[Illustration: JOHN CLAYTON. THOMAS BROUGHTON.

JAMES HERVEY.

BENJAMIN INGHAM. JOHN GAMBOLD.

HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK.]




                                   THE
                            OXFORD METHODISTS:

                              MEMOIRS OF THE
                  REV. MESSRS. CLAYTON, INGHAM, GAMBOLD,
                          HERVEY, AND BROUGHTON,
                   WITH BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES OF OTHERS.

                                  BY THE
                             REV. L. TYERMAN,
       AUTHOR OF “THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, M.A.,
                       FOUNDER OF THE METHODISTS.”

                              [Illustration]

                                NEW YORK:
                      HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
                             FRANKLIN SQUARE.
                                  1873.




PREFACE.


The present book is intended to serve as a companion volume to “The Life
and Times of Wesley;” and to assist in showing the wide and gracious
results of a revival of religion.

In compiling the work just mentioned, I was compelled, by want of space,
to lay aside a large amount of biographical material, some portions of
which are embodied in the work now submitted to the reader; and other
portions of which may be published at a future time.

Memoirs of the two Wesleys and of Whitefield have been designedly
omitted, on the ground, that, their Memoirs, _in extenso_, are
already in existence. Still, those illustrious men are often noticed
in the following pages; and, I hope, the facts concerning them will
be both interesting and instructive. Of the other Oxford Methodists,
no biographies have been previously written, with the exception of
Hervey; and it is not censorious to say, that the two principal ones of
him,—Ryland’s and Brown’s—are far from satisfactory.

The information concerning some of the Oxford Brotherhood is meagre. I
have used all the diligence I could in obtaining materials; but brief
notices, and scraps, and a few letters are all that I have to give.
Fragmentary, however, though they are, I trust, they will not be regarded
as useless and irrelevant. The biographical sketches of Clayton, Ingham,
Gambold, Hervey, and Broughton, are more extended. It would have been a
satisfaction to have left Westley Hall in the shades of oblivion; but,
in telling the story of the Oxford Methodists, it was impossible not to
notice him.

A marvellous work was accomplished by the Wesley brothers and by
Whitefield; but it is a great mistake, and not a just acknowledgment
of the grace of God, to regard the results of the revival of religion
in the Oxford University, as confined to Methodism. Contemporaneous
Reformers, raised up by Providence, are seldom all employed in the same
kind of work. At the beginning of the Christian era, God “gave some,
apostles, and some, prophets, and some, evangelists, and some, pastors,
and teachers, for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the
ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ” (Ephesians iv. 11,
12). Luther, Zuinglius, Melancthon, Œcolampadius, Erasmus, Calvin, Knox,
Ridley, Latimer, and Cranmer were all engaged, at the same time, in the
same great and glorious reformation; but the services they rendered
were as various as the dispositions and talents of the men themselves.
So in regard to the movement in the Oxford University. Among the Oxford
Methodists, the Wesleys and Whitefield will always be pre-eminent; but a
great work was also done by their associates. Clayton’s High-Churchism
was objectionable; but it is not unreasonable to indulge the hope, that,
his earnest piety exercised a useful influence upon the clergy among whom
he lived, and especially upon the young gentlemen who were favoured with
the instructions of his school. Ingham, as an evangelist, was exceedingly
successful among the masses in the North. The Moravian Church owes a debt
of incalculable gratitude to Gambold, for checking and correcting its
early religious follies. Broughton was efficiently employed in promoting
the translation of the Bible, in the work of Home and Foreign Missions,
in the distribution of religious tracts, and in the education of the
children of the poor, at a period when the present principal societies
for such objects did not exist. Hutchins, though retaining, at least,
a few of his High-Church doctrines, was a spiritually-minded, earnest
Christian; and, in the important office which, for so many years, he held
in Lincoln College, could hardly fail in moulding the minds and hearts
of some of the young students there. And Hervey was one of the first
clergymen of the Church of England, in the last century, who turned the
attention of the upper classes of society to religious matters. These
were not trifling services. Do they not deserve to be recorded?

The Oxford revival of religion was pregnant with the most momentous
issues. And so are most revivals. How often in the history of Methodism,
though on a smaller scale, have its revivals of the work of God resulted
in consequences bearing some analogy to those of the Oxford movement
of a hundred and forty years ago? Who will not pray, that such “Divine
visitations” may be continued and multiplied, not only in Methodism, but,
in all the Churches of the Great Redeemer?

The Oxford Methodists, up to the time of their general dispersion from
that seat of learning, were all (excepting, perhaps, Whitefield) Church
of England _Ritualists_. Their moral conduct was most exemplary. They
were studious, devout, self-denying, charitable. Their study of the Bible
gained them the nicknames of “Bible-bigots,” and “Bible-moths.” Every
morning and every evening, they spent an hour in private prayer; and,
throughout the day, habituated themselves to the use of ejaculations, for
humility, faith, hope, and love. They communicated at Christ Church once
a week, and persuaded all they could to attend public prayers, sermons,
and sacraments. They were constant visitors of the inmates of the parish
workhouse, and of the prisoners in the Castle; and it was the practice
of all of them to dispense in charity all they had, after providing
for their own necessities. They also observed the discipline of the
Church of England to the minutest points; and were scrupulously strict
in practising the rubrics and canons. Every Wednesday and Friday, they
fasted, tasting no food whatever, till three o’clock in the afternoon.
Though, perhaps, they never held the doctrine of the human nature of the
Divine Redeemer being present in the elements of the holy sacrament,
they held something approaching this, and spoke of “an outward sacrifice
offered therein.” They more than approved of the mixture of water with
the sacramental wine; and religiously observed saint days, holidays,
and Saturdays. They maintained the doctrine of apostolical succession,
and believed no one had authority to administer the sacraments who was
not _episcopally_ ordained. Even in Georgia, Wesley excluded Dissenters
from the holy communion, on the ground, that they had not been properly
baptized, and would himself baptize only by immersion, unless the child,
or person, was in a weak state of health. He also enforced confession,
penance, and mortification; and, as far as possible, carried into
execution the Apostolic Constitutions. In short, with the exception of
sacerdotal millinery, the burning of incense, the worship of the Virgin,
prayers for the dead, and two or three other kindred superstitions, the
Oxford Methodists were the predecessors of the present _ritualistic_
party in the Church of England.

The Oxford Methodists, however, had no desire to aggrandize themselves.
They had not the slightest wish to be considered superior to their fellow
mortals. They were sincere, and earnest inquirers after truth, and, in
the study of the Holy Bible, in prayer to God, and in other devotional
exercises, were an example worthy of imitation. God rarely leaves such
inquirers in the dark. Wesley, and most of his Oxford friends were
brought to a knowledge of “the truth as it is in _Jesus_;” and, being
so, their faith, their energy, their prayers, their toils, and their
cheerfully endured sufferings resulted in one of the most glorious
revivals of the work of God, recorded in the history of the Christian
Church.

May we not indulge the hope, that, what God did for the Oxford
Methodists, He will do for those at the present day, who, in most
respects, resemble them? Ought we not to pray for this? Indeed, has
it not, to some extent, been realized? Though the _leaders_ of the
Oxford Tractarian movement have unquestionably served the interests of
the Church of Rome, far more than the interests of the Church which
nurtured them; yet, is it not a fact, that some of the hard-working
evangelical clergy of the Church of England, now so successfully
employed in the spread of truth, began their Christian life as the
Oxford Methodists began theirs? And is it wrong to prayerfully cherish
the expectation, that, in mercy to mankind, others will be brought to
the same convictions? The Church, the Nation, and the World need their
energy, earnestness, diligence, self-denial, and devotion. Let them lay
aside their popish follies and proud pretensions and embrace the truth of
Christ in its simplicity and its purity, and, at least, some of them may,
under God, accomplish a work as great and as blessed as was accomplished
by Wesley and his “Holy Club.”

I have nothing more to add, except to express my obligations to the
descendants of the Oxford Methodists, for their courteous kindness in
responding to my requests for information; and to other clergymen and
gentlemen with whom I have been in correspondence.

The book is not a series of written portraits. I make no pretensions to
artistic skill. I have simply done my best in collecting facts, from
every source within my reach; and have narrated them as truly and as
lucidly as I could.

                                                               L. TYERMAN.

STANHOPE HOUSE, CLAPHAM PARK, _April 2nd, 1873_.




THE OXFORD METHODISTS.




THE FIRST OF THE OXFORD METHODISTS.


ROBERT KIRKHAM.

Wesley writes:—“In November, 1729, four young gentlemen of Oxford,—Mr.
John Wesley, Fellow of Lincoln College; Mr. Charles Wesley, Student of
Christ Church; Mr. Morgan, Commoner of Christ Church; and Mr. Kirkham,
of Merton College,—began to spend some evenings in a week together in
reading, chiefly, the Greek Testament.”[1]

These were the first Oxford Methodists; and, though there is little to
be said of Morgan, and still less of Kirkham, they must not be passed
in silence. Methodism may be traced to their associating with the two
Wesleys, to read the Greek Testament, in 1729.

Robert Kirkham was the son of the Rev. Lionel Kirkham, a clergyman
resident at Stanton, in Gloucestershire. The family consisted of Robert
and at least two sisters, Sarah and Betty.

Sarah was the intimate friend of Mary Granville, afterwards Mrs. Delany,
a woman of great accomplishments, who moved in the highest society
and, for more than fifty years, was honoured with the friendship and
confidence of King George III. and his Queen Charlotte. Sarah Kirkham was
born in 1699; and, in 1725, was married to the Rev. John Capon, or, as
the name is sometimes spelt, Chapone. She was a woman of great intellect
and of an intensely warm and generous nature. “Sally,” wrote Mary
Granville, in 1737, then Mrs. Pendarves, “would shine in an assembly
composed of Tullys, Homers, and Miltons: at Gloucester, she is like a
diamond set in jet,—their dulness makes her brightness brighter.”[2] Mrs.
Chapone died in 1764.

Her sister Betsy was probably the first of Wesley’s sweethearts. As early
as February 2, 1726, Robert Kirkham, writing, from home, to his “Dear
Jacke,” at “Lincoln College, Oxford, by the Worcester carrier,” says,—

    “Your most deserving, queer character, your personal
    accomplishments, your noble endowments of mind, your little
    and handsome person, and your most obliging and desirable
    conversation,—have often been the pleasing subject of our
    discourse. Often have you been in the thoughts of M. B.” [Miss
    Betsy?] “which I have curiously observed, when with her alone,
    by her inward smiles and sighs, and by her abrupt expressions
    concerning you. Shall this suffice? I caught her this morning
    in an humble and devout posture on her knees. I must conclude;
    and subscribe myself your most affectionate friend, and
    _brother I wish I might write_,

                                                   “ROBERT KIRKHAM.”

Twelve months after this, Wesley’s sister Martha wrote to him as follows:—

    “When I knew that you were just returned from Worcestershire,
    where, I suppose, you saw your Varenese” [the pet name of Betsy
    Kirkham], “I then ceased to wonder at your silence; for the
    sight of such a woman might well make you forget me. I really
    have myself a vast respect for her, as I must necessarily have
    for one that is so dear to you.”

For more than three years subsequent to this, Wesley kept up a
correspondence with Kirkham’s sister, and spoke of her in the tenderest
terms. In 1731, their friendship was interrupted. Why? Did the young
lady’s father interfere? Or did she herself prefer another? These
are questions which it is almost impossible to answer; but it is a
significant fact that, though the Kirkham family seems to have consisted
of only one son and two daughters, one of those daughters died about
twelve months afterwards; she, at the time of her death, bearing the name
of Mrs. Wilson. Hence the following extract from a letter, written by
Mrs. Pendarves, and dated “Killala, June 28th, 1732.”

    “Poor Mrs. Wilson! I am sorry for the shock her death must
    have given Sally” [Mrs. Chapone] “whose tenderness must
    sometimes take place of her wisdom; but I hope when she
    considers the great advantage her sister, in all probability,
    will receive by the exchange she has lately made, that she will
    be reconciled to the loss of a sister that has given her more
    woe than happiness. Pray, has Mrs. Wilson left any children?”

Was Mrs. Wilson the quondam Betsy Kirkham? It is probable she was; for,
though Mrs. Pendarves and Mrs. Chapone continued to be the warmest
friends for thirty-two years after this, there is not, in the voluminous
correspondence of the former, the least allusion to Betsy.

Perhaps these notices of Robert Kirkham’s sisters are hardly relevant;
but it must be borne in mind that Kirkham was one of Wesley’s warmest
friends, and that he wished to have Wesley for a brother.

As already intimated, of Robert Kirkham himself next to nothing has been
published. In a letter to his mother, dated February 28, 1730, three
months after the first Methodist meeting in Oxford, Wesley wrote:—

    “I have another piece of news to acquaint you with, which,
    as it is more strange, will, I hope, be equally agreeable.
    A little while ago, Bob Kirkham took a fancy into his head,
    that he would lose no more time and waste no more money; in
    pursuance of which, he first resolved to breakfast no longer
    on tea; next, to drink no more ale in an evening, or, however,
    but to quench his thirst; then to read Greek or Latin from
    prayers in the morning till noon, and from dinner till five
    at night. And how much may one imagine he executed of these
    resolutions? Why, he has left off tea, struck off his drinking
    acquaintances to a man, given the hours above specified to the
    Greek Testament and Hugo Grotius, and spent the evenings either
    by himself or with my brother and me.”

This was a brave act. For a frank, frivolous, jovial young fellow like
Robert Kirkham, who, in a letter to Wesley, four years before, had told
his friend of his revelling over a dish of calves’ head and bacon, and
a newly-tapped barrel of excellent cider, now to resolve to live a life
like that which Wesley mentions, and to have firmness enough to fulfil
his resolution, was no ordinary fact, and indicated a great change in the
light-hearted young collegian. Was not this the very commencement of the
Methodist organization?

In 1731, Kirkham took his leave of the Oxford brotherhood, to become
his uncle’s curate. Where did he live after this? How did he live? When
did he die? These are questions which we cannot answer. We have tried to
obtain information concerning his subsequent career, but have failed.


WILLIAM MORGAN.

William Morgan was not only one of the first Oxford Methodists, but the
first of them to enter heaven. The Wesleys and Kirkham were the sons of
English clergymen. Morgan was the son of an Irish gentleman, resident
in Dublin. As already stated, he was a Commoner of Christ Church; and
Samuel Wesley, junior, who was well acquainted with him, speaks of him in
the highest terms. From his childhood, he had been devout and diligent;
he revered and loved his father; was a warm-hearted, faithful friend; a
welcome visitor of orphans, widows, and prisoners; neither a formalist
nor an enthusiast; but a man whose life was a beautiful gospel sermon, in
a practical, embodied form. A short extract from Samuel Wesley’s poem, on
Mr. Morgan’s death, will not be out of place.

    “Wise in his prime, he waited not till noon,
    Convinced that mortals ‘never lived too soon.’
    As if foreboding then his little stay,
    He made his morning bear the heat of day.
    Fixed, while unfading glory he pursues,
    No ill to hazard, and no good to lose;
    No fair occasion glides unheeded by;
    Snatching the golden moments as they fly,
    He, by fleeting hours, ensures eternity.
    Friendship’s warm beams his artless breast inspire,
    And tenderest reverence to a much-loved sire.
    He dared, for heaven, this flattering world forego;
    Ardent to teach, as diligent to know;
    Unwarped by sensual ends, or vulgar aims,
    By idle riches, or by idler names;
    Fearful of sin in every close disguise;
    Unmoved by threatening or by glozing lies;
    Gladdening the poor where’er his steps he turned,
    Where pined the orphan, or the widow mourned;
    Where prisoners sighed beneath guilt’s horrid stain,
    The worst confinement and the heaviest chain;
    Where death’s sad shade the uninstructed sight
    Veil’d with thick darkness in the land of light
    Nor yet the priestly function he invades:
    ’Tis not his sermon, but his life, persuades.
    Humble and teachable, to church he flies,
    Prepared to practise, not to criticise.
    Then only angry, when a wretch conveys
    The Deist’s poison in the Gospel phrase.
    To means of grace the last respect he showed,
    Nor sought new paths, as wiser than his God;
    Their sacred strength preserved him from extremes
    Of empty outside, or enthusiast dreams;
    Whims of Molinos, lost in rapture’s mist,
    Or Quaker, late-reforming Quietist.”[3]

It was in November, 1729, that the first four of the Oxford Methodists
began their sacred meetings. Two months later, William Morgan wrote to
Wesley the following, which contains a reference to the interest that the
Methodists already took in prisoners, and which, being one of the very
few of Morgan’s letters still existing, may not be unacceptable.

                                                “_February 5, 1730._

    “DEAR SIR,—About seven last night I reached Oxford, and, after
    having long rested my wearied limbs, went this morning to
    Bo-Cro, who have exceeded our best wishes. I have just finished
    my rounds, and perceive it was not for nothing that I came
    hither before you. Stewart’s papers will not be in London till
    Monday. He desires you to get the rule of court for him, and
    let him have it as soon as possible. Coster begs you would
    call at Mrs. Hannah Ebbins’, upholsterer, in Shadwell Street,
    near Tower Hill, at the sign of the Flag, and let her know his
    present condition. She is very rich, he says, and has often
    told him she would at any time do him whatever service she
    could.

    “Fisher desires you to look into the _Gazette_, and see whether
    the estate of John Davies, of Goldington and Ravensden,[4] is
    to be sold.

    “You would do well to buy a few cheap spelling-books if you can
    meet with any, for they are wanted much at the Castle.

    “Comb’s goods were seized last week, and ’tis thought he is
    gone to London. If he should call on you for what you owe him,
    put him in mind of paying you, for me, the twelve shillings he
    owes me. I forgot to tell you that I neglected to call at Mrs.
    Baxter’s landlord’s. I wish you would bring my picture of Queen
    Elizabeth to Oxford, as carefully as you can; it is in a large
    book in your sister’s closet. There is a plan of mine in the
    box with your linen, which I likewise desire you would bring
    with you. Pray give my love to Charles, best respects to your
    brother and sister, and service to Mrs. Berry[5] and Miss Nancy.

    “I am, dear sir,

         “Your sincere friend, and affectionate humble servant,

                                                    “WILLIAM MORGAN.

    “Pray don’t forget to inquire for my pocket-book.”

This curious letter of small commissions is not devoid of interest,
inasmuch as it plainly shows,—1. The close intimacy between Morgan and
the Wesley brothers. 2. Morgan’s keenness in looking after his pecuniary
rights. And 3. That some, at least, of the Oxford Methodists were not, as
yet, so intensely religious as they soon afterwards became.

It was not long before the young collegians evinced more earnestness.
Wesley writes:—

    “In the summer of 1730, Mr. Morgan told me he had called at the
    gaol, to see a man who was condemned for killing his wife; and
    that, from the talk he had with one of the debtors, he verily
    believed it would do much good, if any one would be at the
    pains of now and then speaking with them. This he so frequently
    repeated, that, on the 24th of August, 1730, my brother and I
    walked with him to the Castle. We were so well satisfied with
    our conversation there, that we agreed to go thither once or
    twice a week; which we had not done long, before he desired me
    to go with him to see a poor woman in the town, who was sick.
    In this employment, too, when we came to reflect upon it, we
    believed it would be worth while to spend an hour or two in a
    week; provided the minister of the parish, in which any such
    person was, were not against it. But that we might not depend
    wholly on our own judgments, I wrote an account to my father of
    our whole design; withal begging that he, who had lived seventy
    years in the world, and seen as much of it as most private men
    have ever done, would advise us whether we had yet gone too
    far, and whether we should now stand still, or go forward.”

Wesley’s father highly approved of the project of the young Methodists,
and wrote,—

    “You have reason to bless God, as I do, that you have so fast
    a friend as Mr. Morgan, 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. Morgan 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 ashamed when they speak
    with their enemies in the gate.”

The venerable Rector of Epworth then proceeds to advise them to consult
with the chaplain of the prisoners, and to obtain the direction and
approbation of the bishop.

This was done. Wesley writes:—

    “In pursuance of these directions, I immediately went to Mr.
    Gerard, the Bishop of Oxford’s chaplain, who was likewise the
    person that took care of the prisoners when any were condemned
    to die (at other times they were left to their own care).
    I proposed to him our design of serving them as far as we
    could, and my own intention to preach there once a month, if
    the bishop approved of it. He much commended our design, and
    said he would answer for the bishop’s approbation, to whom he
    would take the first opportunity of mentioning it. It was not
    long before he informed me that he had done so, and that his
    lordship not only gave his permission, but was greatly pleased
    with the undertaking, and hoped it would have the desired
    success.”[6]

Methodism, in its beneficence, was now fairly started. Its first object
was a condemned felon; its first visitor, William Morgan; its first
approver, Wesley’s father; and its next the Bishop of Oxford, with his
chaplain, Mr. Gerard.

The small band of godly collegians soon became the butt of ridicule.
Robert Kirkham especially was stigmatized as a member of _The Holy Club_;
and his college (Merton) became immensely merry at the expense of him and
his companions. On December 1st, 1730, Wesley’s father addressed to them
a letter to inspire them with confidence and hope:—

    “Upon this encouragement,” writes Wesley, “we still continued
    to meet together as usual; and to confirm one another, as well
    as we could, in our resolutions to communicate as often as we
    had opportunity (which is here once a week); and to do what
    service we could to our acquaintance, the prisoners, and two or
    three poor families in the town.”

To the reading of the Greek Testament, and the visiting of prisoners and
the poor, we here have weekly communion added to the programme of Oxford
Methodism. What was the result?

Wesley continues:—

    “The outcry daily increasing, that we might show what ground
    there was for it, we proposed to our friends or opponents, as
    we had opportunity, these or the like questions:—

    “I. Whether it does not concern all men of all conditions to
    imitate Him, as much as they can, ‘Who went about doing good’?

    “Whether all Christians are not concerned in that command,
    ‘While we have time, let us do good unto all men’?

    “Whether we shall not be more happy hereafter, the more good we
    do now?

    “Whether we can be happy at all hereafter, unless we have,
    according to our power, ‘fed the hungry, clothed the naked,
    visited those that are sick, and in prison;’ and made all these
    actions subservient to a higher purpose, even the saving of
    souls from death?

    “Whether it be not our bounden duty always to remember, that
    He did more for us than we can do for Him, who assures us,
    ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my
    brethren, ye have done it unto Me’?

    “II. Whether, upon these considerations, we may not try to do
    good to our acquaintance? Particularly, whether we may not try
    to convince them of the necessity of being Christians?

    “Whether of the consequent necessity of being scholars?

    “Whether of the necessity of method and industry, in order to
    either learning or virtue?

    “Whether we may not try to persuade them to confirm and
    increase their industry, by communicating as often as they can?

    “Whether we may not mention to them the authors whom we
    conceive to have wrote the best on those subjects?

    “Whether we may not assist them, as we are able, from time to
    time, to form resolutions upon what they read in those authors,
    and to execute them with steadiness and perseverance?

    “III. Whether, upon the considerations above-mentioned, we may
    not try to do good to those that are hungry, naked, or sick? In
    particular, whether, if we know any necessitous family, we may
    not give them a little food, clothes, or physic, as they want?

    “Whether we may not give them, if they can read, a Bible,
    Common Prayer Book, or ‘Whole Duty of Man’?

    “Whether, we may not, now and then, inquire how they have used
    them, explain what they do not understand, and enforce what
    they do?

    “Whether we may not enforce upon them, more especially, the
    necessity of private prayer, and of frequenting the church and
    sacrament?

    “Whether we may not contribute, what little we are able, toward
    having their children clothed and taught to read?

    “Whether we may not take care that they be taught their
    catechism, and short prayers for morning and evening?

    “IV. Lastly: whether, upon the considerations above-mentioned,
    we may not try to do good to those that are in prison? In
    particular, whether we may not release such well-disposed
    persons as remain in prison for small sums?

    “Whether we may not lend smaller sums to those that are of any
    trade, that they may procure themselves tools and materials to
    work with?

    “Whether we may not give to them who appear to want it most, a
    little money, or clothes, or physic?

    “Whether we may not supply as many as are serious enough to
    read, with a Bible and a Whole Duty of Man?

    “Whether we may not, as we have opportunity, explain and
    enforce these upon them, especially with respect to public and
    private prayer, and the blessed sacrament?”[7]

Such, at the end of 1730, was the plan of benevolent action drawn up by
the Oxford Methodists. Who can find fault with it? Wesley tells us, that
they met with none who answered these questions in the negative, and that
several helped them with quarterly subscriptions.[8]

Thus encouraged, the two Wesleys, Kirkham, and Morgan, cheerily pursued
their way, “in spite of the ridicule which increased fast upon them
during the winter.” The men of wit, in Christ Church, called them
Sacramentarians. Their allies, at Merton, styled them The Holy Club.
Others stigmatized them as The Godly Club; and others the Enthusiasts,
or the Reforming Club; but ridicule, though far from pleasant, failed to
check them in their laborious career.

In the summer of 1731, Mr. Morgan was disabled, by an attack of sickness,
and retired to Holt; but under the date of June 11th, Wesley writes:—

    “The poor at the Castle, however, have still the Gospel
    preached to them, and some of their temporal wants supplied,
    our little fund rather increasing than diminishing. Nor have
    we yet been forced to discharge any of the children which Mr.
    Morgan left to our care: though I wish they too do not find the
    want of him; I am sure some of their parents will.”[9]

Mr. Morgan’s affliction excited great interest in the Wesley family.
Matthew Wesley, an eminent physician in London, was on a visit to
his brother Samuel, the Rector of Epworth, and from thence went to
Scarborough. In a letter to her son John, dated, “Epworth, July 12,
1731,” Susannah Wesley wrote:—

    “Before your uncle went to Scarborough, I informed him of what
    I knew of Mr. Morgan’s case. When he came back, he told me he
    had tried the spa at Scarborough, and could assure me that it
    far exceeded all the other spas in Europe, for he had been at
    them all, both in Germany and elsewhere; that, at Scarborough,
    there were two springs, as he was informed, close together,
    which flowed into one basin, the one a chalybeate, the other a
    purgative water; and he did not believe there was the like in
    any other part of the world. He said, ‘If that gentleman, you
    told me of, could by any means be got thither, though his age
    is the most dangerous time in life for his distemper, yet I am
    of opinion those waters would cure him.’ I thought good to tell
    you this, that you might, if you please, inform Mr. Morgan of
    it.”

Poor Morgan’s work was ended.

    “For more than twelve months,” writes Mr. Moore, “he was so
    greatly reduced, that he became a burden to himself, and
    totally useless to others. In this stage of his disease, his
    understanding sometimes appeared deranged; he became more
    changeable in his temper than usual, and inconsistent in his
    conversation. But this was purely the effect of his disease;
    not the least symptom of the kind having ever appeared till
    long after his health had declined.”

In the month of March, 1732, his father informed him that he should no
longer be limited to a fixed allowance, but should have all the money
that was necessary for his state of health; at the same time, however,
strongly insisting that no part of his remittances should be spent in
charity; and adding,—

    “You cannot conceive what a noise that ridiculous society in
    which you are engaged has made here. Besides the particulars of
    the great follies of it at Oxford (which to my great concern
    I have often heard repeated), it gave me sensible trouble to
    hear that you were noted for going into the villages about
    Holt; calling their children together, and teaching them their
    prayers and catechism, and giving them a shilling at your
    departure. I could not but advise with a wise, pious, and
    learned clergyman. He told me that he has known the worst of
    consequences follow from such blind zeal; and plainly satisfied
    me that it was a thorough mistake of true piety and religion.
    I proposed writing to some prudent and good man at Oxford to
    reason with you on these points, and to convince you that you
    were in a wrong way. He said, in a generous mind, as he took
    yours to be, the admonition and advice of a father would make
    a deeper impression than all the exhortations of others. He
    concluded, that you were young as yet, and that your judgment
    was not come to its maturity; but as soon as your judgment
    improved, and on the advice of a true friend, you would see
    the error of your way, and think, as he does, that you may
    walk uprightly and safely, without endeavouring to outdo all
    the good bishops, clergy, and other pious and good men of the
    present and past ages: which God Almighty give you grace and
    sense to understand aright!”[10]

Thus had the young Methodists to encounter, not only the ridicule of the
outside world, but the rebuke of their own relatives and friends. The
Epworth rector encouraged them; the Dublin gentleman pronounced upon them
censure.

A month after the date of Mr. Morgan’s letter to his sick son, Samuel
Wesley, junior, paid a visit to the Oxford Methodists, and, on his return
to London, wrote a poetical epistle to his brother Charles, dated April
20, 1732. The following are some of the concluding lines:—

    “One or two questions more, before I end,
    That much concern a brother and a friend:—
    Does John beyond his strength presume to go,
    To his frail carcase literally a foe?
    Lavish of health, as if in haste to die,
    And shorten time to insure eternity?
    Does Morgan weakly think his time misspent?
    Of his best actions can he now repent?
    Others, their sins with reason just deplore,
    The guilt remaining when the pleasure’s o’er;
    Shall he for virtue, first, himself upbraid,
    Since the foundation of the world was laid?
    Shall he (what most men to their sins deny)
    Show pain for alms, remorse for piety?
    Can he the sacred Eucharist decline?
    What Clement poisons here the bread and wine?
    Or does his sad disease possess him whole,
    And taint alike the body and the soul?
    If to renounce his graces he decree,
    O that he could transfer the stroke to me!
    Does earth grow fairer to his parting eye?
    Is heaven less lovely, as it seems more nigh?
    O, wondrous preparation this—to die!”

Two months subsequent to Samuel Wesley’s visit, poor Morgan took his
final departure from his friends at Oxford. He was sick in body and in
mind. His end was near, though he knew it not. Leaving Oxford on the 5th
of June, 1732, he proceeded to his father’s house in Dublin. Here he
spent six weeks, and again set out for Oxford. The following letter,
addressed to Wesley by his father, will tell the brief remainder of his
short history. The letter was written fifteen months after Morgan’s
untimely death; and, during this melancholy interval, his only surviving
brother had been placed under Wesley’s tuition.

                                          “DUBLIN, _November, 1733_.

    “My concern about my only son brings the misfortunes of my
    other son fresh into my mind, and obliges me now to impart to
    you, and only to you, what I have hitherto concealed from all
    men, as far as it could be kept secret. After he had spent
    about six weeks with me in Dublin, the physicians agreed that
    the air at Oxford was better for his health than the Irish air.
    I myself was obliged to take a journey with my Lord Primate
    into his diocese, and on the same day my dear son set out on
    his journey to England. He rode an easy pad, and was to make
    easy stages through part of this kingdom, to see some relations
    in the way, and to take shipping at Cork, from which there
    is a short passage to Bristol, and from thence the journey
    is not great to Oxford. He travelled twelve miles the first
    day, attended by that careful servant who was with him at
    Oxford. The servant observed him to act and talk lightly and
    incoherently that day. He slept little or none at night; but
    often cried out that the house was on fire, and used other wild
    expressions. The second day he grew worse; threw his bridle
    over the horse’s head, and would neither guide him himself nor
    let the man guide him, but charged him to stay behind him,
    saying God would be his guide. The horse turned about, went in
    side roads, and then to a disused quarry filled with water,
    where my poor child fell off, and had then like to be lost,
    the servant not daring to do but as he bid him. The servant,
    finding him deprived of all understanding and also outrageous,
    by great art and management, brought him back to Dublin. Two
    of our most eminent physicians and the surgeon-general were
    brought to attend him. An express was sent for me, with whom I
    hastened back to town. He was put in a room two pairs of stairs
    high, yet he found an opportunity to run to one of the windows,
    tore it down though the sashes were nailed, and was more than
    half out before he could be caught. He was raging mad, and
    three men were set over him to watch him. By the diction of
    the physicians, he was threatened with ropes and chains, which
    were produced to him, and were rattled. In his madness, he used
    to say, that enthusiasm was his madness; and repeated often,
    ‘O religious madness.’ He said, they had ‘hindered him being
    now with God,’ because they had hindered him from throwing
    himself out of the window. But, in his greatest rage, he never
    cursed or swore or used any profane expressions. In seven days,
    God was pleased to take him to Himself; which, no doubt, the
    blisterings and severities used by the physicians and surgeon
    for his recovery precipitated.”

This, in all respects, is a mournful story. No useful end would be
answered by asking, whether much religion, or much unkindness, or “much
learning,” made poor Morgan mad. His father’s letter, written in March,
1732, was, to say the least, injudicious; and the treatment of the Dublin
doctors, in August following, was preposterously cruel. The man himself
was a lovely character. Gambold, who seems to have made the fifth Oxford
Methodist, observes concerning Morgan:—

    “He was a young man of an excellent disposition, and took
    all opportunities to make his companions in love with a good
    life; to create in them a reverence for public worship; and
    to tell them of their faults with a sweetness and simplicity
    that disarmed the worst tempers. He delighted much in works
    of charity. He kept several children at school; and when he
    found beggars in the street, he would bring them into his
    chambers, and talk to them. Many such things he did; and,
    being acquainted with Messrs. John and Charles Wesley, he
    invited them to join with him; and proposed that they should
    meet frequently to encourage one another, and have some scheme
    to proceed by in their daily employments. About half a year
    after I got among them, Mr. Morgan died. His calm and resigned
    behaviour, hardly curbing in a confident joy in God, wrought
    very much upon me; though, when I had an opportunity to observe
    him, he was under a lingering distemper. Some were displeased
    because he did not make some direct preparation for death; but
    to a man who has overcome the world, and feels God within him,
    death is no new thing.”

Poor Morgan’s decease occurred in Dublin, on August 26, 1732; and no
sooner was the event known, than it was wickedly and cruelly alleged,
that his Methodist associates had killed him. Hence the following, which
Wesley addressed to Morgan’s father within two months after the former’s
death.

                                          “OXON, _October 18, 1732_.

    “On Sunday last, I was informed that my brother and I had
    killed your son; that the rigorous fasting which he had imposed
    upon himself, by our advice, had increased his illness and
    hastened his death. Now though, considering it in itself, ‘it
    is a very small thing with me to be judged by man’s judgment;’
    yet as the being thought guilty of so mischievous an imprudence
    might make me the less able to do the work I came into the
    world for, I am obliged to clear myself of it, by observing to
    you, as I have done to others, that your son left off fasting
    about a year and a half since; and that it is not yet half a
    year since I began to practise it.”[11]

Apart from amply refuting the slanderous charge already mentioned,
this extract from Wesley’s letter is of considerable importance, as it
clearly shows that fasting was not a part of the primary programme of the
Methodists; and that, if fasting is to be taken as a proof of religious
earnestness, Morgan, in the first instance, was the most religious
of the brotherhood. Whether Morgan was in the habit of observing
the ecclesiastical fasts when the Methodist meetings were commenced
in November, 1729, is not apparent; but it is quite clear that his
discontinuance of fasting was occasioned by his declining health. It was
about the month of May, 1731, when fasting was relinquished; and, as we
have already seen, it was then that the illness commenced which issued in
his death. Whether fasting induced that illness is a point which must be
left undecided; but, even admitting that it did, Wesley was not to blame,
for Wesley himself did not begin to fast until a year after Morgan had
laid aside the practice.

Whatever others did, Morgan’s father fully exonerated the two Wesleys;
and, though he had censured his son for what he conceived to be excessive
piety only five months before the young man’s death, that piety was now
a source of consolation. Replying to Wesley’s letter, dated October 18,
1732, Mr. Morgan writes:—

                                               “_November 25, 1732._

    “REV. SIR,—I give entire credit to everything and every fact
    you relate. It was ill-judged of my poor son to take to
    fasting, with regard to his health, of which I knew nothing,
    or I should have advised him against it. He was inclined to
    piety and virtue from his infancy. I must own I was much
    concerned at the strange accounts which were spread here, of
    some extraordinary practices of a religious society in which he
    had engaged at Oxford, lest, through his youth and immaturity
    of judgment, he might be hurried into zeal and enthusiastic
    notions that would prove pernicious. But now, indeed, the piety
    and holiness of life which he practised afford me some comfort
    in the midst of my affliction for the loss of him, having full
    assurance of his being for ever happy. The good account you are
    pleased to give of your own and your friends’ conduct, in point
    of duty and religious offices, and the zealous approbation
    of them by the good old gentleman your father, reconcile and
    recommend that method of life to me, and make me almost wish
    that I were one amongst you.

    “I am, with respects to your brother, sir, your most obliged
    and most obedient humble servant,

                                                   “RICHARD MORGAN.”

Here the chapter on “The First of the Oxford Methodists” ought to
end; but, perhaps, this is the most fitting place for the following
correspondence respecting William Morgan’s brother; especially as it
casts further light upon the principles and mode of life of Wesley and
his friends. Chronologically it is out of order, for Richard Morgan did
not belong to the quaternion brotherhood who were first branded with
the name of “Methodists;” but, still, the ensuing letters serve as a
continuation of those already given, and, viewed in such a light, may be
acceptable.


WILLIAM MORGAN’S BROTHER.

In a letter, dated “Feb. 17, 1733,” Mr. Morgan, senior, states that he is
wishful that the books of his deceased son, William, should belong to his
only surviving son; and then adds:—

    “I assure you, sir, without any dissimulation or flattery, I
    rejoice sincerely at the recovery of the good old gentleman,
    your father.[12] And I really am concerned that the scorners
    of your university continue so malevolent. I could wish they
    would rather meet you at least half way in imitation of piety
    and goodness. I must say that these censures have, in a great
    measure, ceased here; and I am comforted by my acquaintance
    telling me that I should [not?] grieve the loss, from the
    assurance we have of my dear son’s happiness with God, after
    such a course of piety and godliness as he had engaged in.
    I pray God to conduct us all to meet together in happiness
    hereafter. Be assured that you shall never want an advocate in
    me to defend you against any calumny that I hear you or your
    friends aspersed with. Pray give my salutations to your good
    father when you write to him, and to your brother of Christ
    Church; for I am, with great sincerity, theirs, and, sir, your
    very affectionate humble servant,

                                                   “RICHARD MORGAN.”

The Oxford Methodists were still slandered; but the father of the dead
Morgan, so far from blaming them, was now their faithful friend and
defender. This was shown, not in words only, but in deeds; for, during
this same year, 1733, he sent his surviving son to Oxford, and placed
him under the tuition of Wesley, one of the men who had been accused of
hastening the death of William. Hence the following, extracted from a
letter addressed to Wesley:—

                                     “DUBLIN, _November 22nd, 1733_.

    “REV. SIR,—I had the favour of yours, and am very thankful
    for your care and concern about my son, who, I am sure, will
    observe your advice and directions in everything. I would have
    him live a sober, virtuous, and religious life, and to go to
    church and sacrament, according to the statutes and customs of
    his college; but for young people to pretend to be more pure
    and holy than the rest of mankind is a dangerous experiment
    As to charitable subscriptions and contributions, I wholly
    debar him from making any; because he has not one shilling of
    his own, but what I give him; and this I appropriate wholly
    to his maintenance, education, and moderate and inoffensive
    recreations and pleasures. And, I believe, as a casuist, you
    will agree with me that it is injustice, and, consequently,
    sinful, rather than virtuous, to apply my money any other
    way than as I appropriate it. He must leave me to measure
    out my own charities, and to distribute them in such manner
    and proportion as I shall think proper. I hope you will not
    suspect, from anything I have said, that I intend the least
    reflection or disrespect to you; for if I did not think very
    well of you, and had not a great opinion of your conduct and
    abilities, I should not put my only son under your tuition,
    which, I think, is the best proof a man can give of his good
    esteem and opinion of another. I hope I may be excused for
    being solicitous to prevent my present son’s falling into
    extremes, which, it is thought, were so prejudicial to my other.

    “I sent a bill of £50, by the last post, to Mr. James Huey,
    merchant, in Aldermanbury, London, with directions to transmit
    the value to you, which I hope is done. I shall begrudge no
    money that is for my son’s benefit and advantage. I would have
    him live as decently as other gentlemen of his station. I am
    very desirous that he should keep a regular account, that he
    may attain to a habit of it, knowing the great use and benefit
    of accounts to all men. I shall depend upon your letting me
    know when a further supply will be wanting. Pay my respects to
    your brother, and believe me to be your very affectionate and
    most humble servant,

                                                   “RICHARD MORGAN.”

    “To the Rev. John Wesley, Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford.”

No one can find fault with Mr. Morgan’s letter. It was economical, and
yet generous. For want of judicious restraint like his, hundreds of young
Oxonians have been ruined. Too much money in a young man’s pocket is a
terrible temptation and danger. Besides, Morgan, though only nineteen
years of age, had hitherto evinced none of the sobriety of his elder
brother; but, on the contrary, had been a brisk, showy, gay young fellow.
Hence, his father’s description of him to Charles Wesley. After stating
that though he had left school at the age of sixteen, he was even then
“fit for the university, and at least as good a scholar as his brother
was when he went to Oxford;” Mr. Morgan adds,—

    “Three years ago, I purchased an office for him in the law;
    but, I fear, he has read very little of Greek or Latin since,
    and that he has forgotten a great deal of what he had learned
    at school; but I don’t think his parts very bad. He was
    nineteen years of age last July, and is very lusty for his age.
    I believe he is five feet ten inches high. He has been somewhat
    gay, and gone to plays and balls; but addicted to no vice. He
    has often wished rather to be put forward in his learning, than
    to stick to an office; and I am now inclined to indulge him. If
    it be advisable to put him in this new way of life, you may be
    sure I can think of no other for his tutor but yourself.”

Charles Wesley, however, thought that the young man would be safer with
his brother than with himself; and, indeed, Morgan himself desired that
he might be entered a Gentleman Commoner of Lincoln College, and be
Wesley’s pupil. His father complied with this request; but the youth
soon became dissatisfied. Being under Wesley’s care, he was branded
with the name of Methodist; and, in a fit of mortified vanity, wrote
to his father, saying, he would rather return to his office in Dublin,
than suffer the sneers of his gay companions, in Oxford. Wesley became
acquainted with this, and immediately addressed to Mr. Morgan a letter,
which, though long, is too interesting and important to be omitted.
We have here a glimpse of the daily life of the Oxford Methodists, a
specimen of the contumely cast upon them, and a description of the
collegiate wickedness surrounding them. It will be seen that Wesley’s
letter was written within two months after the date of Mr. Morgan’s
letter just given.

                                              “_January 14th, 1734._

    “SIR,—Going yesterday into your son’s room, I providentially
    cast my eyes upon a paper that lay upon the table, and,
    contrary to my custom, read a line or two of it, which soon
    determined me to read the rest. It was a copy of his last
    letter to you; whereby, by the signal blessing of God, I came
    to the knowledge of his real sentiments, both with regard to
    myself and to several other points of the highest importance.

    “In the account he gives of me, and those friends who are as my
    own soul, are some things _true_:—as, that we imagine it is our
    bounden duty to spend our whole lives in the service of Him
    that gave them; or in other words, ‘_Whether we eat or drink,
    or whatever we do, to do all to the glory of God_;’ that we
    endeavour, as we are able, to relieve the poor, by buying books
    and other necessaries for them; that some of us read prayers at
    the prison once a day; that I administer the Sacrament once a
    month, and preach there as often as I am not engaged elsewhere;
    that we sit together five evenings in a week; and that we
    observe, as far as our health will permit, the fasts of the
    Church.

    “Some things are _false_, but taken upon trust, so that I
    hope Mr. Morgan believed them true:—as that we almost starve
    ourselves; that one of us had like lately to have lost his
    life, by too great abstinence; that we endeavour to reform
    notorious whores, and to lay spirits in haunted houses; that we
    rise every day at five o’clock; and that I am president of the
    Society.

    “As strange as it may appear that one present upon the
    spot should so far vary from the truth in his relation, I
    can easily account, not only for his mistake, but for his
    designed misrepresentation too. The company he is almost daily
    with (from whom indeed I should have divided him, had not
    your letters, coming in the article of time, tied my hands)
    abundantly accounts for the former; as his desire to lessen
    your regard for me, and thereby obviate the force of any future
    complaint, which he foresaw I might some time hence have
    occasion to make to you, does for the latter.

    “And, indeed, I am not without apprehension that some
    such occasion may shortly come. I need not describe that
    apprehension to you. Is there not a cause? Is he not
    surrounded, even in this recess, with those who are often more
    pernicious than open libertines? Men who retain something of
    outward decency, and nothing else; who seriously idle away
    the whole day, and repeatedly revel till midnight, and if
    not drunken themselves, yet encouraging and applauding those
    that are so; who have no more of the form than of the power
    of godliness, and though they do pretty often drop in at the
    public prayers, coming after the most solemn part of them is
    over, yet expressly disown any obligation to attend them. It
    is true they have not yet laughed your son out of all his
    diligence; but how long it will be before they have, God knows.
    They zealously endeavour it at all convenient opportunities;
    and temporal views are as unable to support him under such an
    attack, as his slender notions of religion are; of which, he
    often says, he thinks he shall have enough, if he constantly
    says his prayers at home and in the chapel. As to my advice
    on this or any other head, they had secured him pretty well
    before; and your authority added to theirs; has supplied him
    with armour of proof against it.

    “I now beg to know what you would have me to do? Shall I sit
    still, and let him swim down the stream? Or shall I plunge in,
    bound as I am hand and foot, and oppose myself to his company,
    his inclinations, and his father?

    “Why, you say, I am to incite him to live a sober, virtuous,
    and religious life. Nay, but let me first tell you what
    religion is. I take religion to be, not the bare saying over
    so many prayers, morning and evening, in public or in private;
    not anything superadded now and then to a careless or worldly
    life; but a constant ruling habit of the soul; a renewal of our
    minds in the image of God; a recovery of the Divine likeness; a
    still increasing conformity of heart and life to the pattern of
    our most Holy Redeemer.

    “But if this be religion, if this be the way to life, which our
    blessed Lord hath marked out for us, how can any one, while he
    keeps close to this way, be charged with running into extremes?
    It is true, there is no going out of it, either to the right
    hand or to the left, without running into an extreme; and,
    to prevent this, the wisdom of the Church has, in all ages,
    appointed guides for the unexperienced, lest they should wander
    into bye-paths and seek death in the error of their life. But
    while he is in the right way, what fear is there of your son’s
    going too fast in it?

    “I appeal to your experience. Have you observed any such
    disposition in him, as gives you ground to suspect he will love
    God too well, or keep himself too ‘_unspotted from the world_’?
    Or has his past life been such, as that you have just reason to
    apprehend the remainder of it should too much resemble that of
    our blessed Master? I will go further. Have you remarked in the
    various scenes you have gone through, that youth in general is
    apt to run into the extreme of piety? Is it to _this_ excess
    that the fervour of their blood and the impetuosity of their
    passions hurry them?

    “But we may not stop here. Is there any fear, is there any
    possibility that any son of Adam, of whatever age or degree,
    should too faithfully do the will of his Creator, or too
    exactly tread in the steps of his Redeemer? Suppose the time
    now come when you feel within yourself, that the silver cord of
    life is loosed, that the dust is returning to the earth as it
    was, and the spirit unto God who gave it. The snares of death
    overtake you. Nothing but pain is on the one hand, eternity
    on the other. The tears of the friends that surround your bed
    bear witness with the pangs of your own heart, that it has few
    pulses more to beat before you launch out into the sea without
    a shore; before the soul shall part from the quivering lips
    and stand naked before the judgment-seat of God. Will you then
    be content with having served God according to the custom of
    the place you were in? Will you regret your having been, even
    from your youth, more pure and holy than the rest of mankind?
    Will you complain to the ministering spirits who receive your
    new-born soul, that you have been over zealous in the love of
    your Master? Ask not me, a poor, fallible, sinful mortal, never
    safe either from the snares of ill example or the treachery of
    my own heart; but ask _them_,—ask _Him_ who died to make you
    and me and your son zealous of good works,—whether you may be
    excused from your solicitude, your too successful solicitude,
    to prevent his falling into this extreme? How needless has he
    made that solicitude already! But, I spare you. The good Lord
    be merciful to us both!

    “Think not, sir, that interest occasions the concern I show. I
    abhor the thought. From the moment my brother told me, ‘_Mr.
    Morgan will be safer with you than me; I have desired him to
    be sent to you_,’ I determined (though I never mentioned
    it to him) to restore to him whatsoever is paid me upon Mr.
    Morgan’s account. It is, with regard to me, an accursed thing.
    There shall no such cleave unto me. I have sufficient motives,
    without this, to assist your son, so long as he will accept my
    assistance. He is the brother of my dear friend, the son of
    one that was my friend till great names warped him from his
    purpose, and, what is infinitely more, the creature of my God,
    and the redeemed and fellow-heir of my Saviour.

    “That neither the cares of the world nor the fair speeches and
    venerable titles of any who set up their rest therein, may
    prevent our attaining our better inheritance, is the earnest
    prayer of, sir, your most obliged and most obedient servant,

                                                      “JOHN WESLEY.”

    “Richard Morgan, Esq.”[13]

This is a noble letter, though, perhaps, somewhat hard upon Mr. Morgan,
senior. The picture of collegiate life at Oxford shows the need there was
for Oxford Methodism; while the definitions of real religion demonstrate
that the leader of the Oxford Methodists was not the fanatic which his
enemies said he was.

Unfortunately, we soon lose sight of the gay young Gentleman Commoner of
Lincoln College; but Wesley’s interest in his welfare was not without
results. For a considerable time, no impression could be made on the airy
and thoughtless youth. Wesley did his best, but failed; and, at length,
he desired Hervey to undertake the task. Hervey succeeded. John Gambold
writes:—

    “Mr. Hervey, by his easy and engaging conversation, by letting
    him see a mind thoroughly serious and happy, where so many of
    the fine qualities he most esteemed were all gone over into
    the service of religion, gained Mr. Morgan’s heart to the best
    purposes.” Gambold adds, “Since Mr. Morgan became that meek,
    sincere Christian which he now is,” [written about 1736] “he
    has had a singular affection toward Mr. Wesley, and has run
    some hazard to be in his company,—a sign that those counsels
    and wishes, which seemed once to be given in vain, do now take
    place in him.”

About two years after this change in the young Irishman, Wesley, and
his brother, accompanied by Benjamin Ingham, set sail for Georgia; and
Morgan, so far from being ashamed of their acquaintance, went to London
purposely to see them start; and expressed a willingness to go all the
way to Yorkshire to do them service. Ingham writes:—[14]

    “Mr. Morgan, a gentleman of Lincoln College, Oxford, came
    up to London to take leave of Mr. Wesley. He was a zealous
    and sincere Christian and was very earnest with me to go to
    Georgia. He promised himself to make a journey into Yorkshire
    to see my mother, and to do what he could towards settling the
    school. As to having my mother’s consent, he said, If I thought
    it was God’s will, I must obey my Master, and go wherever I
    could do Him service, whether my relations were willing or not.”

This was the fashionable young man who, two years before, entered Lincoln
College, bringing a favourite greyhound with him; choosing men “more
pernicious than open libertines” for his companions; and writing to his
father querulous and false complaints of the Oxford Methodists.

Now he was an Oxford Methodist himself. Hence the following letter, which
was addressed to Wesley, three weeks before the two Wesleys and Ingham
embarked for Georgia.

                                              “_September 25, 1735._

    “DEAR SIR,—I hope this will find you and the rest of our
    friends well. This morning the Rector sent for me. He told me
    he had heard I had returned to my former strict way of life,
    and that he must acquaint my father with it. I desired, he
    would come to particulars, and said, that where I was wrong I
    should be glad to be set right. He said, I looked thin, and
    feared I would hurt myself by rigorous fasting. I told him,
    I dined in the hall on Wednesdays, and that I eat bread and
    butter on Friday mornings. He was pretty well satisfied with
    this account. He advised me to take something else instead of
    tea after fasting, which I promised to do. His next charge was
    not sitting in the common room. I said, I intended to sit there
    three nights every week, which he thought was sufficient. I
    unguardedly told him that, if it were agreeable to him, I would
    dine in the hall even on Fridays. He very much approved of this
    proposal, and said, I might observe any other day as a fast
    instead of it. I believe, if I would go into the hall on fast
    days, all my other actions would be less taken notice of, and
    I should put it out of the Rector’s or Mr. Hutchin’s power to
    make any complaints of me to my father. If I could be sure of
    not injuring religion by my example, I believe I might comply
    with the Rector herein, for, you are very sensible, I might
    notwithstanding observe the same degree of abstinence even
    on those days. I depend on the advice of my friends in this
    affair, and hope God will sanctify it to me. The Gospel tells
    us, that the children of God must suffer persecution from
    the world; but the Rector says, we must endeavour to have our
    persons in esteem, and those things wherein we differ from the
    world we must do privately. We must take care our good be not
    evil spoken of. Though the Church enjoins fasting, yet, because
    the bishops, the pillars of the Church, do not observe it,
    it loses its force. When he finds his blood hot, he says, he
    fasts, but unknown to anybody. He thinks it is a relative duty,
    and not confined to any particular time. He looks upon it only
    as a remedy against unchastity, and, if we are not troubled
    with this passion, I suppose, not obligatory. He advised me
    to read such books as were genteel accomplishments. I have,
    through God’s assistance, in some degree, seen my own weakness,
    by the effects of this anti-Christian doctrine, for it has
    quite discomposed me, though I was enabled to see the fallacy
    of it. I see nothing so well qualified to destroy my soul, to
    make me eternally miserable, as the conversation of temporizing
    Christians, which, I hope, by your advice and other means, God
    will prevent, as I am sure He will, if I am faithful to Him.

    “When I desire your advice in this affair, I only desire you to
    prevent my eternal damnation; for it is in the greatest danger
    from this most subtle, deceitful, and dangerous of all enemies.
    Oh that I could express to you the danger I foresee from this
    enemy! My eyes and my heart alone could; but these you cannot
    see. May God enable you to comprehend it, and to do all that
    is in your power to prevent it! You cannot sufficiently arm
    me against the Rector. I suspect him of insincerity to you. I
    want to know whether you ever did. I believe, and Mr. Horn is
    of the same opinion, that my going to Ireland depends on my
    going into the hall on fast days. The Rector said as much as if
    you frightened others from religion by your example; and that
    you might have done a great deal of good, if you had been less
    strict, which I would be glad to be undeceived in, and to know
    whether the example of a thorough mortified Christian, though
    it would give the greatest offence, would not do more than that
    of a plausible Christian, who would give no offence at all.
    This is a point of great importance to me.

    “It has pleased God to let me see that I can make no progress
    in religion till I have acquired some sense of the misery and
    nothingness of human nature, and of our entire dependence
    on Him. Though I go into the common room to avoid a greater
    evil,—though I would not live the life of those who spend their
    time there for all the world,—though I am scarcely capable
    of doing anything which is more disagreeable to me,—yet the
    poison is not removed. While I am with them, I love my sense,
    my judgment, my reason. It is true, I am all the time in pain;
    but I cannot say, at that time, they lead an un-Christian,
    dangerous life. I believe it is for want of faith, and for not
    looking upon it as a great blessing, since it is not my own
    choice. I want to know how to remove this delusion, and how to
    make an advantage of that which God no doubt intended for my
    good. If I do not make a use of this cross, I am satisfied it
    will be the ruin of me.

    “Oh lay this to your heart, and make my case your own. Do not
    think you can spend your time better than in answering this
    letter. I hope you will not forget to pray to God to enable
    me to follow you wherever it is His will, and never to omit
    putting me in mind of it when you write to me.

    “Mr. Robson is in a dangerous way. He is convinced of the
    necessity of being a Christian, but cannot leave the world.
    Mr. Carter, I fear, is not steady. Mr. Hervey is gone. Mr.
    Broughton is not yet returned. If he go to Georgia, it is best.”

This is a curious letter,—not remarkable for either intelligence or
scholarship; but it partly unfolds the character of its writer; reveals
some of the difficulties of the collegiate life of the Oxford Methodists;
shows the importance which they attached to fasts; and points to Wesley
as the leader of the religious brotherhood.

The Wesleys had left Oxford; but, for a time at least, Charles Morgan
and Mr. Broughton carried on the work which they and the elder Morgan
had commenced. Charles Morgan undertook the care of Bocardo, which he
visited three days every week. He read an hour every other day, at the
house of Mr. Fox, in the Catechism of the Bishop of the Isle of Man; and,
in the same place, held a meeting every Sunday night with “a cheerful
number of Christians.” “The Lord’s kingdom,” he writes, November 27,
1735, “increaseth apace; and I find-more and more comfort in the holy
Scriptures every day.”

Our information concerning Robert Kirkham, William Morgan, and his
younger brother Charles, is exhausted. As Oxford Methodists, they deserve
notice; but, so far as is ascertained, they were of comparatively
little use either to the Church or to the world. William Morgan had no
opportunity for _public_ usefulness; and Robert Kirkham and Charles
Morgan drift away into the great ocean of existence, and leave no track
behind them.




THE REV. JOHN CLAYTON, M.A., THE JACOBITE CHURCHMAN.


God has wisely and graciously hidden the future from us. We may form
guesses concerning it; but we have not the slightest certainty that
our guesses will be realised. Who, in 1732, could have foretold the
future career of the Oxford Methodists? If the members of the Methodist
fraternity could have seen beforehand the events of the next fifty
years, what would have been the issue? Would the fellowship of the
Hanoverian and Jacobite, the Methodist and Moravian, the Churchman and
Dissenter, the Arminian and Calvinist, the itinerant Evangelist and the
parish Priest, have been continued? That fellowship was of incalculable
importance; but its maintenance depended upon the shortsightedness of
those who were united in it. The drawing aside of the veil of futurity
would, in all likelihood, have converted the loving brotherhood into an
Ishmaelitish band, endangering, not only its future usefulness, but its
present existence, by its own internecine fights. As it was, there went
forth a number of brave-hearted men, all of them the better for their
godly meetings in Wesley’s comfortable room in Lincoln College; and,
though their courses were divergent, yet, in the main, they continued
faithful to the cause of truth, and, with few exceptions, were always
loyal to their great Master, Christ. In a qualified sense, we may apply
to Oxford Methodism the words of the sacred text: “A river went out of
Eden to water the garden; and from thence it was parted, and became into
four heads” (Gen. ii 10). Let us follow one of the out-flowings:—

John Clayton was the son of William Clayton, a bookseller in
Manchester;[15] was born in 1709, and was educated by the Rev. John
Richards, M.A., at the Grammar School in that important town. He entered
Brazenose College in 1726, and became Hulme’s exhibitioner in 1729.[16]
He was introduced to Wesley in 1732; and, by his recommendation, the
Oxford Methodists took another important step, that of fasting twice a
week. Wesley writes,—

    “On April 20, 1732, Mr. Clayton meeting me in the street, and
    giving Mr. Rivington’s[17] service, I desired his company to
    my room, and then commenced our acquaintance. At the first
    opportunity, I acquainted him with our whole design, which he
    immediately and heartily closed with; and, not long after,
    (Mr. Morgan having then left Oxford,) we fixed two evenings
    in a week to meet on, partly to talk on that subject, and
    partly to read something in practical divinity. The two points
    whereunto, by the blessing of God, we had before attained,
    we endeavoured to hold fast: I mean, the doing what good we
    can; and, in order thereto, communicating as often as we have
    opportunity. To these, by the advice of Mr. Clayton, we added
    a third,—the observing the fasts of the Church; the general
    neglect of which we can by no means apprehend to be a lawful
    excuse for neglecting them. And in the resolution to adhere to
    these and all things else, which we are convinced God requires
    at our hands, we trust we shall persevere till He calls us
    to give an account of our stewardship. As for the names of
    Methodists, Supererogation-men, and so on, with which some of
    our neighbours are pleased to compliment us, we do not conceive
    ourselves to be under any obligation to regard them, much less
    to take them for arguments. ‘To the law and to the testimony’
    we appeal, whereby we ought to be judged. If by these it can be
    proved we are in error, we will immediately and gladly retract
    it: if not, we ‘have not so learned Christ,’ as to renounce
    any part of His service, though men should ‘say all manner
    of evil against us,’ with more judgment and as little truth
    as hitherto. We do, indeed, use all the lawful means we know
    to prevent ‘the good which is in us’ from being ‘evil spoken
    of:’ but if the neglect of known duties be the one condition
    of securing our reputation, why, fare it well; we know whom
    we have believed, and what we thus lay out He will pay us
    again.”[18]

These were brave Christian words; the noble utterance of an earnest,
conscientious, godly man. The Methodist brotherhood, thus portrayed,
present an example which all who are right-minded cannot but admire.
There is no taking for “doctrines the commandments of men;” no ridiculous
toying with ecclesiastical or superstitious trifles; but a stout-hearted
adherence to great, scripture principles. Wesley and his friends were
not pious for the purpose of being singular, but because they felt it to
be a duty. To be laughed at was far from being pleasant; but they were
quite prepared to sacrifice even their reputation, rather than dishonour
the religion of their great Master. Men might brand them with opprobrious
epithets; but that with them was of trifling importance, if only at the
day of judgment, Christ acknowledged them as friends. They knew they were
not following “cunningly devised fables;” they were not flippant dabblers
in “doubtful disputations;” but earnest men who knew that what they held
was truth, and who, at all hazards, were resolved to practise it.

Clayton had spent six years at Oxford, and was now a college tutor.[19]
The following letter was addressed to Wesley about three months after he
and Clayton became acquainted. It is long, but is full of interest, and
casts considerable light on the doings and difficulties of the Oxford
Methodists. Wesley, at the time, seems to have been in London; where he
was now made a member of “The Society for the Propagation of Christian
Knowledge,” and also formed a friendship with William Law.

                                            “OXON, _August 1, 1732_.

    “REV. AND DEAR SIR,—Excuse me for not interrupting you from
    attending to the noble work you have taken in hand, whilst I
    give you an account of the present state of our affairs at
    Oxford.

    “I cannot but think it an extraordinary piece of Providence
    that, when we had lost our best advocate and patron, all
    opposition against us should immediately cease; for, since you
    left us, nobody has thought it worth while to attack either
    Mr. Smith or me,[20] or to endeavour to remove us from those
    principles wherein you, by the grace of God, have fixed us. I
    have gone every day to Lincoln, big with expectation to hear
    of some mighty attack made upon Mr. Smith; but, I thank God,
    I have always been disappointed; for not one of the Fellows
    has once so much as tried to shake him, or to convert him from
    the right way, wherein, I hope, he at present walks. Indeed,
    on Sunday, he met with a rub from Mr. Veesy, who refused to
    read Prayers for him in your chapel, for fear of contributing
    anything to his going to Christ Church. But Mr. Smith had the
    heart to desire that favour of the Rector which Mr. Veesy
    had denied him, who immediately promised to read for him,
    and encouraged him to proceed in the way he was in, and, if
    possible, to make further progress in virtue and holiness. He
    goes out of town to-morrow morning, and so will be entirely
    out of danger from the Fellows of Lincoln. We had conversation
    this morning, whilst we were at breakfast together, concerning
    the temptations which may arise from strange company and
    travelling; and Mr. Smith seems to be fore-armed against, and
    determined to oppose them to the utmost of his power. He joins
    with me in best respects to your brother and you, and desires
    you won’t forget to send the bands and the poems you promised
    him.

    “Poor Mr. Clements[21] is still recovering. He was with me last
    night two hours, but I doubt to no purpose.

    “My little flock[22] at Brazenose are, God be praised, true to
    their principles, and I hope to themselves too.

    “_Bocardo_,[23] I fear, grows worse upon my hands. They have
    done nothing but quarrel ever since you left us; and they
    carried matters so high on Saturday, that the bailiffs were
    sent for, who ordered Tomlyns to be fettered and put in the
    dungeon, where he lay some hours, and then, upon promise of
    his good behaviour, was released again. He has been much
    better ever since that time, and I hope will be better for
    it all his lifetime. Wisdom has never been to hear me read,
    notwithstanding his promise. I sent for him yesterday, but
    he would not come down; and when I had done reading, I went
    upstairs to him, and upbraided him with breaking his promise,
    upon which he very easily replied, that he had thought better
    of it since he had seen me, and was determined never to come
    near Blair, lest his indignation should rise at the sight of
    him.

    “The _Castle_ is, I thank God, in much better condition. All
    the felons were acquitted, except Salmon, who is referred to
    be tried at Warwick, to our great disappointment,—and the
    sheep-stealer, who is burnt in the hand, and who, I verily
    believe, is a great penitent. I got Mrs. Jopping a copy of her
    son’s indictment at the assizes, which has made her mighty easy
    ever since; and she is now endeavouring to bring her mind into
    a due frame for the devout participation of the holy communion
    on Sunday next. Jempro is discharged, and I have appointed
    Harris to read to the prisoners in his stead. Two of the
    felons likewise have paid their fees, and are gone out, both
    of them able to read mighty well. There are only two in the
    jail who want this accomplishment,—John Clanvills, who reads
    but moderately, and the horse-stealer, who cannot read at all.
    He knows all his letters, however, and can spell most of the
    common monosyllables. I hear them both read three times a week,
    and I believe Salmon hears them so many times a day.

    “One of my college scholars has left me, but the others go
    on mighty well. The woman, who was a perfect novice, spells
    tolerably, and so does one of the boys, and the others make
    shift to read with spelling every word that is longer than
    ordinary. The boys can both say their Catechism as far as the
    end of the Commandments, and can likewise repeat the morning
    and evening prayers for children in ‘Ken’s Manual.’

    “Mrs. Tireby has been very ill this last week, so that she has
    made no great proficiency. I am to go down at six o’clock to
    hear the determination of a meeting of St. Thomas’s parish,
    respecting separating Bossum and his wife. When I had promised
    to give a crown towards clothing the woman, and the overseer
    had determined to take her in upon that condition, the
    churchwarden would needs have him try to put the man upon me
    too, to get a crown towards clothing him; but, as he is able
    to work for his living, I don’t think him a proper object for
    charity; nor can I at this time afford to do anything for him,
    because I am apprehensive that I must be forced to contribute
    to Salmon’s relief, who will want near twenty shillings to
    subpœna proper witnesses to Warwick at his trial; and I cannot
    but think it a much greater act of charity to relieve a
    suffering innocent than to relieve an idle beggar.

    “I have been twice at the school,—namely on Tuesday and
    Saturday last, and intend to go again as soon as I have
    finished this letter. The children all go on pretty well,
    except Jervaise’s boy, who, I find, truants till eleven
    o’clock in a morning. I threatened the boy what we would do
    to him if ever he truanted any more, and he has promised (as
    all children do) that he will do so no more; nay, his mother
    assures me that she will take care for the future that he shall
    not. I got a shilling for her from our Vice Principal, and
    gave her sixpence myself, to preserve the gown that is in pawn
    from being sold; and the woman who has it promised not to sell
    it, provided Jervaise will bring her sixpence a week towards
    redeeming it.

    “I have obtained leave to go to St. Thomas’s workhouse twice a
    week; and, indeed, I cannot but hope it will be a noble field
    of improvement. I am sure the people stand much in need of
    instruction, for there is hardly a soul that can read in the
    whole house, and those that can, don’t understand one word of
    what they read.

    “I think I have nothing further to add about our affairs; only
    I must beg the favour of you, if you can conveniently, to pay
    Mr. Rivington thirty shillings for my use, and I will repay it
    when you come to Oxford. Pray don’t forget a few Common Prayer
    Books for the Castle.

    “You cannot imagine the pleasure it is to me to know that you
    are engaged every morning in prayer for me. I wish for nine
    o’clock more eagerly than ever I did before, and I think I
    begin to perceive what is meant by that union of souls which
    is so much talked of in Père Malebranche and Madam Bourignon,
    which I never understood before. Good sir, continue your
    prayers for me, for I feel that I am benefited by them.

    “I do not envy you the happiness, which I know you will have
    from the conversation of so many pious men as you will meet
    with in London, because I assure myself that I shall have the
    benefit of it when I have the pleasure to see you again at
    Oxford.

    “Mr. Hall is not yet come home, so that I am pretty much taken
    up amongst the poor people and the prisoners, and have not yet
    had time to consider of any improvements or additions to be
    made to the list of books for our pupils.

    “I thank God that I have fully conquered my affection for a
    morning’s nap, and rise constantly by five o’clock at the
    farthest, and have the pleasure to see myself imitated by the
    greatest part of my pupils. I have talked with Mr. Clements,
    and I hope have made him a proselyte to early rising, though I
    cannot to constant communion.

    “Pray God prosper all those designs you have undertaken of
    doing good at London, and send you a good journey to Oxford.

    “I am, rev. and dear sir, your most affectionate friend, and
    most obliged humble servant,

                                                       “J. CLAYTON.”

    “I hope you will not forget to pay my due compliments to Sir
    John Philips, Mr. Wogan, and all my other good friends.

    “To the Rev. Mr. John Wesley. To be left with Mr. Rivington,
    bookseller, in St Paul’s Churchyard, London.”

This long epistle, besides unfolding Clayton’s character, helps us to
a better understanding of the position and practices of the Oxford
Methodists. The debtors in Bocardo, the prisoners in the Castle, and
paupers in the streets were objects of their beneficent compassion. They
had their schools for the children of the poor; and, in their mission
of mercy, were about to visit the workhouse of St. Thomas’s. Early
rising was a habit, and prayer for each other a daily practice. Constant
communion was enforced; though the dogma of the _real presence_ of the
body and blood of Christ was, as yet at least, no article of their faith.

Wesley being absent, there was a lull in the storm of Methodist
persecution; but this was of short duration. Within a month after the
date of Clayton’s letter, poor William Morgan died; an event which
furnished an occasion for a violent attack upon the Oxford brotherhood,
in what was then one of the most literary and respectable papers
published,—_Fogg’s Weekly Journal_. They were accused of mopishness,
hypocrisy, censoriousness, enthusiasm, madness, and superstitious
scruples. “Among their own party,” says the writer, “they pass for
religious persons and men of extraordinary parts; but they have the
misfortune to be taken by all who have ever been in their company, for
madmen and fools.”

Hardly any evil is without a good. The virulence of _Fogg’s Weekly
Journal_ excited the curiosity of a gentleman who had no acquaintance
with the Methodists, but who now sought an interview with them,
and shortly after published an octavo pamphlet of thirty pages,
entitled,—“The Oxford Methodists: Being some account of a Society of
young Gentlemen, in that City, so denominated: setting forth their Rise,
Views, and Designs.” In this first defence of Methodism ever published,
the slanderous accusations cast upon Wesley and his friends were refuted;
and the Methodists were described as follows:—

    “There are three points to which these gentlemen think
    themselves obliged to adhere:—1. That of visiting and relieving
    the prisoners and the sick, and giving away Bibles, Common
    Prayer Books, and the ‘Whole Duty of Man’; and of explaining
    the Catechism to the children of poor families, and of dropping
    a shilling or so to such families where they deem it needful.
    2. That of weekly communion. 3. That of observing strictly
    the fasts of the Church, which has caused some to call them
    ‘Supererogation Men.’”

To return to Clayton. About the time of the publication of this pamphlet
(the beginning of 1733), Clayton removed to Manchester; where, during
the ensuing summer, he was visited by Wesley, who, on Sunday, June 3rd,
preached thrice in three different churches, namely, the Cathedral, and
Salford, and St Anne’s churches. Whether these pulpits were obtained
through Clayton’s influence, there is no evidence to show; but,
remembering the odium connected with the name, it certainly is a curious
fact, that in the populous and thriving town of Manchester, the Oxford
Arch-Methodist was allowed to occupy so prominent a position.

When Clayton left Oxford, Clayton’s pupils left Methodism. Ten days after
his visit to Manchester, Wesley wrote,—

                                                 “_1733, June 13th._

    “The effects of my last journey, I believe, will make me more
    cautious of staying any time from Oxford for the future.
    One of my pupils told me at my return, that he was more and
    more afraid of singularity; and another, that he had read an
    excellent piece of Mr. Locke’s, which had convinced him of
    the mischief of regarding authority. Our seven and twenty
    communicants at St. Mary’s were on Monday shrunk to five; and
    the day before, the last of Mr. Clayton’s pupils who continued
    with us, informed me that he did not design to meet us any
    more.”[24]

This was somewhat discouraging. Meanwhile, besides keeping two fast days
every week, Clayton, and also Wesley, began to evince other High Church
proclivities. Hence the following, sent to Wesley only a month after his
visit to Manchester:—

                                                      “_July, 1733._

    “REV. AND DEAR SIR,—I have been thinking upon the two points
    which you proposed to my consideration in your last, and must
    acknowledge myself to be utterly unable to form any judgment
    upon them which will be serviceable to you.

    “My own rule is to spend an hour every Friday in looking over
    my diary,[25] and observing the difference between it and the
    preceding week; after which, I examine the resolutions set
    down in the account of my last weekly examination, and inquire
    how I have kept them, and then see what others are necessary
    to be formed, which I write down at the end of my diary for
    every week, that so they may be materials for my subsequent
    examination.

    “As to your question about Saturday,[26] can only answer
    it by giving an account how I spend it. I do not look upon
    it as a preparation for Sunday, but as a festival itself;
    and, therefore, I have continued festival prayer for the
    three primitive hours, and for morning and evening, from the
    Apostolical Constitutions, which, I think, I communicated to
    you whilst at Oxford. I look upon Friday as my preparation for
    the celebration of both the Sabbath and the Lord’s-day; the
    first of which I observe much like a common saint’s day, or
    as one of the inferior holidays of the Church. I bless God, I
    have generally contrived to have the Eucharist celebrated on
    Saturdays as well as other holidays, for the use of myself and
    the sick people whom I visit.

    “Dr. Deacon[27] gives his humble service to you, and lets
    you know that the worship and discipline of the primitive
    Christians have taken up so much of his time, that he has
    never read the Fathers with a particular view to their
    moral doctrines, and therefore cannot furnish you with the
    testimonies you want out of his collection. However, if you
    will give me a month’s time, I will try what I can do for
    you. I have made some progress in the earliest authors, and
    should have made more had I not been interrupted; first, with
    the public ceremony of the bishop’s triennial visitation;
    and, secondly, with the blessing of a visit which the truly
    primitive Bishop of Man made to our town; with both which
    affairs the clergy have been almost wholly taken up for a week.

    “I was at Dr. Deacon’s when your letter came to hand; and we
    had a deal of talk about your scheme of avowing yourselves a
    society, and fixing upon a set of rules. The doctor seemed
    to think you had better let it alone; for to what end would
    it serve? It would be an additional tie upon yourselves, and
    perhaps a snare for the consciences of those weak brethren that
    might chance to come among you. Observing the Stations[28] and
    weekly communion are duties which stand upon a much higher
    footing than a rule of a Society; and they, who can set aside
    the command of God and the authority of His Church, will
    hardly, I doubt, be tied by the rules of a private Society.

    “As to the mixture, Mr. Colly told me he would assure me it
    was constantly used at Christ Church. However, if you have
    reason to doubt it, I would have you to inquire; but I cannot
    think the want of it a reason for not communicating. If I could
    receive where the mixture was used, I would; and, therefore,
    I used to prefer the Castle to Christ Church; but, if not, I
    should not think myself any further concerned in the matter
    than as it might be some way or other in my power to get it
    restored.[29]

    “Pray be so kind as to call on Mr. Hollins, head of our
    college, for four pictures of mine, namely, ‘Whitechapel
    Altar-piece,’ ‘Mary Magdalene,’ and our two founders; and get
    them sent up, by any convenient opportunity, to Mr. Rivington,
    who will send them down to me.

    “My best respects attend your brother. I must beg the favour
    of him to give himself the trouble of writing out the hymns to
    ‘God the Father and God the Son,’ for me. A person of quality,
    Lady Catherine Gray, borrowed mine, and has lost them.

      “I am, dear sir, your most affectionate friend and servant,

                                                       “J. CLAYTON.”

This is an important letter, not only as exhibiting the religious
earnestness, but also the high churchism of the Oxford Methodists. The
following, which was written two months later, is likewise full of
interest. It was addressed, like the former one, “to the Rev. Mr. Wesley,
Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxon.”

                                  “MANCHESTER, _September 10, 1733_.

    “REV. AND DEAR SIR,—I was last week at Dr. Lever’s, where I
    but narrowly missed of seeing Mr. Brooke, of our college, who
    came the evening after I left Alkrington. I saw Dr. Lever
    to-day, who joins with me in sincere respects to your brother
    and yourself. His new dignity and his being put in Commission
    of the Peace, have, at present, quite unfitted him for serious
    talk; and, therefore, I must wait for a more favourable
    opportunity of pressing those virtues, which you first
    convinced him of the necessity of.

    “Dr. Deacon tells me, that, he had no view in fixing the
    Psalms for common days; but, after reading your letter, is
    convinced of the expediency of serving any of those three
    ends you mention. The feasts and the fasts were the days he
    principally regarded; but he would take it as a favour from
    you if you would communicate to me any improvements you may
    possibly make in it. He thinks your third rule would be most
    expedient,—namely, to put together such psalms as best explain
    and illustrate each other. And he knows not but that on this
    scheme the proper psalms for festivals and fasts may be more
    advantageously fixed, by transposing some from the first,
    second, and other Sundays, etc., to those which have psalms
    which better answer them. He will consider this point as soon
    as he has leisure, but desires, in the meantime, that you would
    let us know your thoughts upon the matter, because his order
    for reading the Psalter is likely soon to see the light, being
    to be published with a collection of Primitive Devotions, both
    public and private, which is even now in the press.[30]

    “Poor Miss Potter![31] I wonder not that she is fallen. Where
    humility is not the foundation, the superstructure cannot
    be good. And, yet, I am sorry to hear the tidings of her,
    especially that she has a great man for her confessor, who
    dissuades her from constant communion. I am sure, she has
    great occasion to use all the means of grace, which Providence
    provides for her, and hope that God will in time open her eyes
    to see the great need she has of help from above. I would not
    persuade you to leave off reading with her. Who knows whether
    you may not raise her again to the eminence from which she has
    fallen? At least, though she neglect the weightier matters of
    the law, yet keep up in her that reverend respect she bears it,
    even by the tithing of ‘mint, anise, and cummin.’

    “As to reading the ancients, I fancy ‘Cotelerii[32] Biblioth.
    Patrum Apostol.’ would be the best book to begin with; for,
    though I will not say, that, all the works there contained
    are genuine, yet I dare avow them to be very ancient, and
    to contain the primitive doctrine and discipline of the
    Church, though published under feigned names. You will find
    a dissertation upon every work, which contains the several
    testimonies of Fathers and Councils, whereby the authority is
    confirmed; and, according to the evidence produced, you must
    judge of the authenticity of the several pieces. The Epistles
    of St. Clement are universally owned to be his; and so are
    the smaller Epistles of St. Ignatius; and, indeed, I think,
    Whiston, in his ‘Primitive Christianity,’ has urged such
    arguments in defence of the larger as can never be answered.
    St. Barnabas’s Epistle, and Hermas’s Pastor are works of the
    Apostolic age, as may be proved by the internal characters
    both of language and doctrine, whether they be the works
    of the venerable authors they are ascribed to or not. The
    Apostolical Canons are learnedly defended by Bishop Beveridge,
    and they sufficiently vindicate the Constitutions.[33] The
    Recognitions[34] of Clement are generally reckoned the most
    modern piece in these two volumes, but they are really a most
    admirable work.

    “And now for the last page of your letter. I would answer it;
    and, yet, for my unworthiness, I dare not,—for my ignorance,
    I cannot. How shall I direct my instructor in the school of
    Christ? Or teach you, who am but a babe in religion? However,
    I must be free to tell you my sentiments of what you inquire
    about. On Wednesday and Friday, I have, for some time, used the
    Office for Passion week out of ‘Spinckes’[35] Devotions,’ and
    bless God for it. I found it very useful to excite in me that
    love of God, and sorrow for having offended Him, which makes up
    the first great branch of repentance. You know it consists of
    meditations on our Saviour’s life, all the meditations being
    joined with proper devotions. I could only wish, I was provided
    with two such Offices, one for Wednesday, and the other for
    Friday.

    “Refer your last question to Mr. Law. I dare not give
    directions for spending that time which I consume in bed, nor
    teach you, who rise at four, when I indulge myself in sleep
    till five.

    “Dear Sir, pray for me that I may press forward in the paths
    of perfection, and, at length, attain the land of everlasting
    life. Adieu!

                                                     “JOHN CLAYTON.”

    “I believe you will see a young gentleman of my acquaintance,
    who is a very pious man, but who greatly stands in need of
    Christian prudence to direct him. In particular, with regard to
    his conduct towards his parents, his religion sometimes seems
    to savour of self. Will you instruct and save him?”

These letters are long, perhaps also dry and tedious; but they are
useful in casting considerable light on Oxford Methodism. We learn,
that the godly brotherhood, though unevangelical, were, in the highest
degree, conscientious and devout. In this respect, they put to shame,
not only the great bulk of professing Christians, but, many who, at the
present day, are known by the name of Methodists. Doubtless, they sought
salvation by the practice of piety and good works; but the piety and good
works themselves are not to be censured, but commended. Self-examination,
prayer, sacramental attendance, fasting, diligence, kindness to the poor,
deep concern for the conversion of sinners, and early rising, are not
things of slight importance; but deserve far more practical recognition
than what they get.

As to the special religious observance of saint days and of the Jewish
Sabbath; and the sacred adoption of ecclesiastical canons and decretals,
opinions will differ; but most Methodists will concur in the Methodist
Preachers’ opinions, as stated by Wesley himself, in 1755:

    “They think the Decretals are the very dregs of Popery; and
    that the Canons of 1603, are as grossly wicked as absurd. They
    think—1. That, the spirit which they breathe is, throughout,
    truly Popish and anti-Christian. 2. That, nothing can be more
    diabolical than the _ipso facto_ excommunication so often
    denounced therein. 3. That, the whole method of executing these
    Canons, the process used in our Spiritual Courts, is too bad to
    be tolerated (not in a Christian, but) in a Mahometan or Pagan
    nation.”[36]

Dr. Deacon, the non-juring clergyman, was Clayton’s bosom friend, and
Wesley’s chosen counsellor. William Law, another non-juror, was consulted
as their guide. Mr. Spinckes’ volume, made up of extracts from the
works of the most eminent of the high-church party, was one of their
books of devotion. Under such circumstances, it is not surprising to
find them plunging into the authentic and unauthentic writings of the
Christian Fathers; listening to Apostolical and other Canons as to the
voice of oracles; displaying ridiculous anxiety about sacramental wine
being mixed with water; and assuming an arrogant willingness to become
auricular confessors. Up to the time of Clayton’s admission among the
Oxford Methodists, we find none of these proclivities. The Bible had been
their sole supreme authority in faith and morals; and, hence, though
their views of evangelical truth were unquestionably defective, their
lives were free from the practice of popish follies. Now it began to be
otherwise. Some of the young men were priests; and priests, according to
the Canons of the Church, were invested with the terrible prerogatives of
enforcing auricular confession, of pronouncing divine absolution, and of
administering the body and blood of the blessed Jesus! “Poor Miss Potter”
had a confessor, who, though a great man, was, evidently in Clayton’s
estimation, heretical. Emily Wesley indignantly and righteously refused
all confessors, her brother not excepted. Well would it be if the priests
of the present day, who “creep into houses, and lead captive silly
women,” were answered, as this noble-minded young lady answered Wesley,
the Arch-Methodist. She writes:—

    “To open the state of my soul to you, or any of our clergy, is
    what I have no inclination to at present; and, I believe, I
    never shall. I shall not put my conscience under the direction
    of mortal man, frail as myself. To my own Master I stand or
    fall. Nay, I scruple not to say, that all such desire in you,
    or any other ecclesiastic, seems to me like church tyranny, and
    assuming to yourselves a dominion over your fellow-creatures,
    which was never designed you by God.... I farther own, that, I
    do not hold frequent communion necessary to salvation, nor a
    means of Christian perfection. But do not mistake my meaning: I
    only think communing every Sunday, or very frequently, lessens
    our veneration for that sacred ordinance; and, consequently,
    our profiting by it.”

This was a sensible rebuke of priestly pretensions.

Clayton was young, only twenty-four; but, besides his scholarship, he was
evidently a man of extensive reading. As the son of a bookseller, he had
had the opportunity of gratifying literary cravings from his earliest
days. He was a man of energy; and, though he reproaches himself for his
sluggishness in not rising earlier than at five o’clock, he was exemplary
for his diligence. All this had already made him a man of mark. In this
very year, 1733, he was appointed to preach the ordination sermon in
Manchester cathedral; and was so ardent in the enforcement of the rubrics
of the Church, and so successful in his ministerial and pastoral office
as to bring seventy old people, all of them above sixty years of age, to
be confirmed by the bishop in Salford church.[37]

Three years later, he was selected to occupy another important post.
Darcy Lever, Esq., LL.D., has been already mentioned as one of the
friends of Clayton and of the two Wesleys. This gentleman, being
appointed, in 1736, to fill the distinguished office of High Sheriff
of Lancashire, made Clayton his chaplain. In such a capacity, Clayton
had to preach at the Lancaster assizes; and chose for his text, the
words,—“He beareth not the sword in vain; for he is the minister of
God, a revenger, to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil” (Rom. xiii.
4). This was a ticklish subject for so young a man; but the chaplain
was not without courage; and gave utterance to sentiments, which, at
the present day, would scarcely be popular. The discourse was printed,
and the title will suggest an idea of the preacher’s faithfulness. “The
Necessity of duly executing the Laws against Immorality and Profaneness:
Set forth in a Sermon, preached at the Assizes held at Lancaster, before
the Honourable Sir Lawrence Carter, one of the Barons of his Majesty’s
Court of Exchequer. By John Clayton, A.M. late of Brazenose College,
Oxon. Published at the request of the High Sheriff, and the Gentlemen of
the Grand Jury. London. 1736.” 8vo, 29 pp. Two or three extracts may be
useful, as serving to illustrate Clayton’s views and style, and also the
alarming wickedness of the nation.

    “If drunkards, swearers, and debauchers were constantly brought
    to justice, it would doubtless lessen the number of criminals,
    and abate the commonness of the vices. Many a poor family would
    be rescued from beggary and starving, were the drunken, idle
    master of it properly corrected. Besides, this strict execution
    of the penal laws against these lesser crimes, would be a most
    probable means of preserving us from those more dreadful vices
    of perjury, robbery, and murder; and would make sanguinary
    laws less needful, and capital punishments less frequent; for
    experience teaches us that vice, as well as virtue, is of a
    progressive nature” (p. 15).

Again,—

    “The fountain from which the Magistrate draws his power, for
    the punishment of wickedness and vice, is none other but
    God himself. All power, whether spiritual or temporal, is
    originally derived from the Supreme Monarch of the world, who
    is King of kings, and Lord of lords. Since, therefore, _every
    Power_, whether it be supreme or subordinate, does primarily
    and originally derive all its authority from above, surely the
    gift of God ought to be used to His honour and glory. Authority
    is a sacred thing, of divine original, and, therefore, as it
    may not be resisted by subjects without danger of damnation, so
    neither may it be lightly neglected, nor wantonly misapplied by
    those entrusted with it; lest they provoke that God to anger,
    _who putteth down one Ruler_, and setteth up another” (p. 17).

Again,—

    “Wickedness is grown to such a head in the world,—immorality
    and profaneness are become so epidemical among us, that, it is
    much to be feared, nothing but discipline and wholesome rigour
    can prove a cure for it. The infection of vice is extended so
    far and wide, and the contagion of sin spreads so prodigiously
    fast, that it seems necessary to use severe methods towards the
    corrupted parts, if we hope either to recover them, or to save
    those that are as yet untouched with the disease. God knows,
    the flagrant impiety of our days, the excessive corruption of
    these dregs of time,—this rust of the iron age, into which
    we are fallen,—is such as every good man must complain of,
    and for which charity itself can find no sufficient excuse or
    extenuation” (p. 7).

Advocates of political expediency may object to these high-toned
sentiments; but there are still a few who have old-fashioned hardihood
enough to exclaim with the Psalmist, “Who will rise up for me against the
evildoers? or who will stand up for me against the workers of iniquity?”
(Psalm xciv. 16).

The friendship between Clayton and the Wesley brothers was unbroken until
the latter departed from Church usages, and became out-door evangelists.
In 1735, when urged by Oglethorpe and others to go to Georgia, Wesley,
not only sought advice from his brother Samuel and William Law, but
went to Manchester to consult with Clayton and others whose judgment he
respected; and, six weeks after his return from the Georgian colony, we
find him spending several days with his old Oxford friend. He writes:—

    “1738. March 15. I set out” (from Oxford) “for Manchester,
    with Mr. Kinchin, Fellow of Corpus Christi, and Mr. Fox, late
    a prisoner in the city prison. _Friday_, the 17th, we spent
    entirely with Mr. Clayton, by whom, and the rest of our friends
    here, we were much refreshed and strengthened. Mr. Hoole, the
    Rector of St. Ann’s church, being taken ill the next day, on
    Sunday, 19th, Mr. Kinchin and I officiated at Salford chapel
    in the morning, by which means Mr. Clayton was at liberty to
    perform the service of St. Ann’s; and, in the afternoon, I
    preached there on those words of St Paul, ‘If any man be in
    Christ, he is a new creature.’”[38]

Two months after the date of this extract from his journal, Wesley,
ceasing to rely on the merit of his own good works, and trusting solely
for salvation in the infinitely meritorious sacrifice of Christ,
experienced an amazing change. His own words must be quoted. After
relating that, for “above ten years,” he had “dragged on heavily,”
“trusting to his own works and his own righteousness,” “in a refined way,
zealously inculcated by the mystic writers,”[39] he remarks:—

    “1738. May 24. In the evening I went very unwillingly to a
    society in Aldersgate Street, where one was reading Luther’s
    preface to the Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter before
    nine, while he was describing the change which God works in
    the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely
    warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for
    salvation; and an assurance was given me, that He had taken
    away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and
    death.”[40]

This was the turning point in Wesley’s history. Hitherto, like his friend
Clayton, he had hoped to be saved by works; now he was saved by faith.
This new experience confirmed his new conceptions of gospel truth, and he
began to preach accordingly. He insisted upon good works as much as ever;
but he henceforth taught, that man is saved, not by these, but by faith
in Christ only. His new doctrine was the means of his being shut out of
churches; and this led to his preaching in the open air; and the whole
resulted in a rupture of the friendship between him and Clayton, who, so
far as there is evidence to show, went on to the end of life, as he and
Wesley had begun at Oxford,—a sincere, earnest, self-denying, devout,
and laborious Pharisee, trusting in his own righteousness, instead of
trusting solely in Christ Jesus.

After the date of Wesley’s conversion, we hear of no further friendly
meetings. Clayton’s death did not occur till 1773, but, during this long
interval of thirty-five years, though Wesley’s visits to Manchester were
numerous, there is no mention made of any interview between the two
Oxford Methodists. No proof exists, that Clayton ever ranked himself
among Wesley’s opponents and slanderers; but, from this period, he ceased
to be one of Wesley’s friends. Coldness sprang up, and separation. In
1756, Charles Wesley spent nearly a fortnight among the Manchester
Methodists, the object of his visit being to prevent their seceding from
the Established Church. He himself attended the Church services, and took
with him as many of the Methodists as he could. He heard Clayton preach
“a good sermon on constant prayer,” and, at the same service, by the
senior chaplain’s invitation, went “with the other clergy” present to
the communion table, and received the sacrament; but even this was not
enough to regain Clayton’s favour; and, hence, the following entries in
Charles’s journal:—

    “1756. Tuesday, October 26. My _former_ friend, Mr. Clayton,
    read the prayers at the Old Church, with great solemnity.”
    “Saturday, October 30. I dined with my candid friend and
    censor, Dr. Byrom. I stood close to Mr. Clayton in church (as
    all the week past), but not a look would he cast towards me;

        “So stiff was his parochial pride,”

    and so faithfully did he keep his covenant with his eyes, not
    to look upon an old friend when called a Methodist.”

It has been already shown, that Clayton was an intimate friend of Dr.
Deacon, the non-juror; and there can be no doubt that, substantially, the
ecclesiastical and political opinions of both were identical. Hence, it
is not surprising that both were implicated in the rebellious proceedings
of 1745.

Charles Edward Stuart, a young man of twenty-five, with a few attendants,
five or six hundred broad-swords, about two thousand muskets, and rather
less than £4,000 in cash, set out from France, to overturn the government
of Great Britain, and, on behalf of his father, to demand its throne.
Such was his success, that, on September 16th, he entered Edinburgh.
Three days afterwards, the battle of Preston Pans was fought; and,
immediately, the handsome Young Pretender began, as prince regent, to
exercise various acts of sovereign authority. He appointed a council;
ordered regiments to be levied for his service; and held drawing-rooms,
which were, for the most part, brilliantly attended, and generally ended
in a public supper and a ball. On the last day of October, Charles Edward
quitted Edinburgh, at the head of six thousand men; and, in a fortnight,
took Carlisle. On November 29th, he and his troops reached Manchester;
and then proceeded, by regular marches, to Derby, where they arrived on
December 4th. This was their nearest approach to London. Before the year
was ended, they were hastily retreating to Carlisle, Glasgow, Stirling,
and the Highlands.

There we leave them, and return to Manchester. A local authority[41]
has stated, that, previous to the rebellion of 1745, Charles Edward had
passed several weeks at Ancoats Hall, the seat of Sir Oswald Moseley;
and, that, the leading inhabitants, the clergy of the Collegiate Church,
together with Dr. Deacon and his followers, were all warm adherents of
the cause of the exiled Stuarts, and recognised, as their political
leaders, Colonel Townley, Dr. Byrom, Mr. Dickenson, and others; who were
accustomed to hold their meetings in a public-house, contiguous to
Jackson’s Ferry, near Didsbury.

To what extent Clayton was associated with these sympathising and
plotting Jacobites, it is impossible to determine; but, when the prince
marched through Salford, in 1745, this high churchman, with more
hardihood than prudence, fell upon his knees before him, and prayed for
the blessing of God on the adventurous Chevalier.[42] Charles Edward made
the “Palace” hostelry, in Market Street Lane, his residence; and hither
Jacobites of both sexes flocked to welcome him. Three sons of Dr. Deacon,
true to their father’s principles, enlisted beneath the Pretender’s
banner; Charles Deacon being placed at the head of the recruiting
department, and Thomas and Robert Deacon being made Lieutenants.

The results were disastrous. Charles, Thomas, and Robert Deacon fell
into the hands of the Royalists, at Carlisle; were tried, condemned,
and executed in London, in July, 1746; the head of the eldest, together
with that of Adjutant Siddal, being sent to Manchester, and fixed on the
Exchange. Townley, the colonel of the Manchester Jacobinical regiment,
was hanged on Kennington Common, had his bowels torn out, and his heart
cast into a fire; and eight of his officers and men were treated in the
same barbarous manner.[43]

Great excitement followed. People on both sides were roused. Whitworth’s
_Manchester Magazine_, the only newspaper published in the town, took
the part of the Government; Dr. Deacon, Dr. Byrom, Clayton, and others,
were obliged to send all their attacks, replies, and other Jacobite
outpourings to the city of Chester, where they obtained insertion in
the _Chester Courant_. For two years, this paper warfare was continued;
and, in 1749, the whole of what had been printed, both in Manchester and
Chester, was collected and published, in a 12mo volume of 324 pages,
entitled, “Manchester Vindicated; being a complete Collection of the
Papers lately published in Defence of that Town in the _Chester Courant_,
together with all those on the other Side of the Question, printed in
the _Manchester Magazine_, or elsewhere, which are answered in the said
_Chester Courant_, Chester, 1749.”

In _Whitworth’s Magazine_ of September 23rd, 1746, we find the following:—

    “Last Thursday, about five in the morning, the heads of Thomas
    Siddal and Thomas Deacon were fixed upon the Exchange. Great
    numbers have been to view them; and yesterday, betwixt eight
    and nine, Dr. Deacon, a non-juring priest, and father to one
    of them, made a full stop near the Exchange, pulled off his
    hat, and made a bow to them with great reverence. He afterwards
    stood some time looking at them. A gentleman of the town was
    with him, and a considerable number of spectators were present.
    He and some of his flock have been seen to do so before several
    times.”

This act, innocent and natural enough in itself, was regarded as popery—a
worshipping of saints—and gave birth to not a few squibbs and verses. The
following was by a Quaker:—

    “Doffing the hat I hold no sign of grace,
    Saving in prayer, which was perhaps the case;
    But yet, my friend, I hope it may be said,
    I’d rather see a hat off than a head.”

Another letter, dated October 11, 1746, says:—

    “The two rebel heads are revered, and almost adored, as
    trophies of martyrdom. The father of one of them (who is a
    non-juring bishop), as he passes by, frequently pulls off
    his hat, and looks at them above a minute, with a solemn,
    complacential silence. Some suppose, he offers up a prayer for
    them; others, to them. His church daily increases, and he is in
    the highest credit and intimacy with the most of our clergy.”

This was replied to in a somewhat long article. The writer says, Dr.
Deacon has told him that he “never passed by his son’s head but once; and
then, indeed, he did pull off his hat.” In reference to Deacon’s large
and growing church, it is added:—

    “I cannot find above a score, and those of no great figure
    or substance, who are partakers with him in his religious
    singularity. Besides, what connection is there between politics
    and the Doctor’s restoring primitive ecclesiastical usages?
    What has the mixt-cup, infant communion, trine-immersion, etc.,
    to do with King George and the Pretender?”

The writer continues:—

    “The Doctor, I own, is respected by most of the clergy; and, I
    will add, by most of the laity too; but what then? I could name
    in turn several rigid Dissenters in the _highest credit and
    intimacy_ with _some_ of our clergy; and, if it be wrong (which
    is indeed a new doctrine to me) for the clergy to respect and
    converse with persons of different opinions in religion, I
    think the character of a clergyman of the Church of England in
    much less danger from his acquaintance with a non-juring bishop
    than with a Calvinistical Dissenter.”

In a letter, dated December 9, 1746, Dr. Deacon writes:—

    “I have not adopted the political principles of indefeasible
    and hereditary right into my religion, and make these an
    essential part of it; and that none can become members of the
    Church to which I belong, that are not enemies to the present
    government. I do hereby declare that the same is utterly false.
    I adopt no political principles into my religion but what are
    expressed in our own Common Prayer Book, entitled, “A Compleat
    Collection of Devotions.”

Much recrimination followed. It was broadly stated in _Whitworth’s
Magazine_, and absolutely denied in the _Chester Courant_, that, whilst
the Rebels were at Manchester, Dr. Deacon “had the very distinguished
honour paid him of being escorted by a file of musqueteers to the
Pretender’s lodgings;” and one of Whitworth’s poetasters favoured the
public with the following:—

    “The de’il has set these heads to view,
      And put them upon poles;
    Poor de’il, ’twas all that he could do,
      When God had ta’en their souls.”

Further quotations would be useless and wearisome. Many of the poetical
scraps strongly resemble the poetry of Dr. Byrom, an undoubted Jacobite
and a friend of Clayton. His three poems,—“A Dialogue, occasioned by the
March of the Highlanders into Lancashire, in the Year 1745”; “A Dialogue
about compelling a Person to take the Oaths to the Government”; and “A
Genuine Dialogue, between a Gentlewoman at Derby and her Maid, in the
beginning of December, 1745,” are ample proofs of his sympathy with the
non-jurors, and of his ardent attachment to the Stuarts; and, though
it might be rash to assert with positiveness that he was actually the
author of the Jacobite versicles in the _Chester Courant_, it is not
unwarrantable to affirm that they bear a striking similitude to his
well-known lines:—

    “God bless the King, and bless the Faith’s Defender!
    God bless—no harm in blessing—the Pretender!
    But who Pretender is, and who is King,
    Why, bless us all, that’s quite another thing.”

Of Clayton’s participation in this Jacobinical controversy there can
be little doubt. In fact, he is said to have assisted in procuring
a printing press for Joseph Harrop, who had been one of Whitworth’s
apprentices. Harrop began the publication of a paper, in opposition to
that of his late master, and to that paper Clayton was an important
contributor.[44] Clayton’s Jacobite leanings were notorious. In
_Whitworth’s Magazine_, for November 20, 1746, he was publicly rebuked,
because one of his senior scholars had recently affronted a lady at the
close of public service in the church by shouting, “Down with the Rump;”
an affront, however, which was “very pardonable in the scholar, since
that was a health at the master’s table.”

Clayton’s praying for the Pretender, in the public streets of Salford,
has been already mentioned. It is also said, by one who knew him
personally,[45] that he visited Prince Charles at the Palace Inn, paid
him profound respect, and was regarded as a sort of royal chaplain.
Wheeler, in his “History of Manchester,” asserts that when the government
sent to Manchester to search for those who had shown disloyalty to
the House of Brunswick, Clayton absconded. Be that as it may, he was
placed under suspension by his bishop, and was subjected to the painful
penalty of a long-continued silence in the church.[46] On resuming
his ministerial duties, after his inhibition was ended, he displayed
considerable keenness, and, perhaps, some degree of irreverence in the
selection of his text. The Bishop of Chester, having commanded him to
preach before him, the bold Jacobite, who had so long been silent, but
was now again allowed to speak, somewhat startled both the bishop and the
congregation by reading as his text, “I became dumb, and opened not my
mouth, for Thou didst it.”[47]

There can be no question of the purity of Clayton’s motives, but his
openly avowed adherence to the cause of the Pretender involved him in
serious troubles. To say nothing of his ministerial suspension, he was,
for years afterwards, the target of his townsmen’s malice. Some hated
him, but others loved him; and the two united turned his life into a
turmoil. Hence the following, taken from a work entitled, “Jacobite and
Non-Juring Principles freely examined,” and published, in Manchester,
against Dr. Deacon, by J. Owen, in 1748. Speaking of Clayton, Owen asks:—

    “If you are the loyal people you represent yourselves to be,
    whence happens it that there has been such a flush of joy,
    discovered by your friends, for a _little, seditious priest_,
    by virtue of the Act of Indemnity, escaping that justice which
    was upon the _wing_ to pursue him? Whence was it that the bells
    rang on the occasion for days together? Was it not by way of
    grateful _Te Deum_, for the great and undeserved deliverance?
    Whence was it that this,—shall I call him _Reverend_ Teacher of
    _Babes_,—has such numbers of his young _fry_, as I am informed
    he has, clad in the livery of rebellion? Is it not to convince
    the world that there is no heresy in Scotch plaid, when wore
    only as a badge of Romish superstition? It must be so, unless
    you can believe,—and believe it who can!—that plaid, politics,
    and popery are this gentleman’s aversion.”

Clayton’s school has just been mentioned,—a school, perhaps, commenced
in consequence of his clerical suspension.[48] His residence was in
Greengate, Salford, and the present well-known Methodist Chapel, in
Gravel Lane, stands on what was once his garden. Here he ably conducted
his classical academy, not a few of his pupils becoming graduates at the
Oxford University. Here he kept a favourite monkey which came to a cruel
and untimely end; for his pupils, either in wanton mischief or temporary
spite, seized poor Pug, and fastened him to a stake in the vicinity of
a hive of bees; and then so exasperated the apiarian insects, that the
excited and miserable monkey was literally stung to death. At Kersall
Cell, the seat of the Byrom family at Manchester, there is a large
original oil-painting representing the interior of Clayton’s School in
Salford, and a full-length portrait of Clayton himself, dressed in a blue
velvet gown, and surrounded by his scholars.

Little more remains to be said of this sincere and earnest high
church clergyman. He was stiff in his churchmanship, but was greatly
respected. His Jacobite inclinations might be foolish, but they were
not wicked, and were not peculiar to himself. Many of the most learned
and pious and useful men then existing entertained the same sentiments
and feelings. They were doubtless mistaken; but they were honest, and
merited forbearance more than punishment. It is said that, in after
years, Mr. Clayton’s opinions were greatly modified; and that, in fact,
he became a Hanoverian. Perhaps there is no absolute proof of such a
politico-religious change; but a caricature (now extremely scarce) was
published, in which he was represented as standing on a pedestal, with
two faces looking in opposite directions; on his breast was inscribed,
“The art of trimming;” in his left hand was a scroll with “God bless King
James III.” upon it; and in his right another, bearing the inscription
of “Charles III.” The remainder of the picture consisted of a view of
Manchester Old Church, the initials of Prince Charles, sundry portraits,
a box and dice, a schoolmaster’s birchen rod, a broken punch-bowl, a dog
snatching at a shadow, and finally two fighting cats. At the foot of the
engraving was written:—

    “Lye on! while my revenge shall be
    To speak the very truth of thee.”

For twenty years, Clayton was chaplain of the Collegiate Church of
Manchester; and, in 1760, was elected a fellow thereof, in the place
of Mr. Crouchley, deceased.[49] Nine years afterwards, in 1769, he
preached the sermon at the consecration of St. John’s Church, Manchester,
founded by Edward Byrom, Esq., the son of his warmly attached friend,
Dr. Byrom. He died September 25, 1773. His funeral sermon was preached
by his intimate friend, the Rev. Thomas Aynscough, M.A., from the words,
“We took sweet counsel together, and walked unto the house of God in
company.” His old pupils erected a monument to his memory, in the
Collegiate Church, bearing the following inscription:—

          “Sacred to the Memory of the Rev. John Clayton, M.A.,
             Successively Chaplain and Fellow of this Church,
              Who died September 25th, 1773, Aged 64 Years.
                This Monument is erected by his Scholars,
             A grateful Token of their Affection and Esteem.
                     He had endeared himself to them
             by his manly Cheerfulness, and strict Integrity,
                  diffusive Charity, heroic Forgiveness,
              and Serenity of Temper under Disappointments;
                 his judicious Fidelity to guard against
              the Dangers of Vice, and Follies of Ignorance,
           by forming the Man, the Scholar, and the Christian,
               in every Mind submitted to his Cultivation;
                    his ardent Zeal for true Religion;
                warm Attachment to the Church of England;
                and unwearied Discharge of all the Labours
                    of a conscientious Parish Priest;
              by the uncommon Lustre of his declining Years,
                   wherein he bore the sharpest Agonies
                  of a painful and humiliating Disease,
          with the Fortitude of Faith, the Resignation of Hope,
            and the strong Consolation of a well-spent Life.”

This is high praise, but not unmerited,—given not by strangers, who
never saw him, but by those who knew him best. Old Manchester Methodists
used to describe him as being about five feet eight inches in stature,
somewhat portly, dignified in gait, wearing an enormous wig, always
deeply serious, a rigid disciplinarian among his scholars and choristers,
a pattern of canonical regularity in the performance of his ministerial
duties, and very venerable in appearance at the close of life.

Though a scholar and a man of considerable mental power, he seems to have
published nothing, except the Sermon already mentioned, his Jacobinical
strictures in the _Chester Courant_, and a sixpenny pamphlet, with the
following title, “Friendly Advice to the Poor; Written and Published, at
the Request of the late and present Officers of the Town of Manchester,
by John Clayton, M.A. Manchester: Printed by Joseph Harrop, opposite the
Clock End of the Exchange; for Messrs. Newton’s, Booksellers, 1755.” 47
pp.

Clayton was a faithful and fearless friend. He had no notion of using
lollipops when bitters were required. His “advice” was “friendly”; but
the opposite of fulsome. In his municipal publication, he delivers
himself in no measured terms. He writes:—

    “If in any passage of the following Address, the Poor may
    seem to be treated with rigour, let it not be censured as
    proceeding from sourness and severity of temper; but be
    considered as a proof, that the author is in earnest, and
    desirous of recommending this Tract to the serious unprejudiced
    consideration of his readers. He has upon all proper occasions
    shown himself ready to plead the cause of the poor and needy;
    and, therefore, hopes he may be considered as still walking
    charitably, though he does, with all plainness of speech and
    befitting Christian liberty, rebuke that spirit of laziness,
    luxury, and mismanagement, which is gone out into the world,
    and which particularly reigns amongst the poor of this town,
    and to which, in a great measure, all their miseries are owing.”

After this exordium, follows his castigation. He reminds his readers of
the numerous charitable institutions of the town, for “lodging, clothing,
and feeding the poor; for breeding up their children in useful Christian
knowledge, and putting them out to proper trades; for helping young
people at their first setting out in the world; for maintaining and
relieving the sick and maimed; and, lastly, for succouring and supporting
the impotent and aged.” He tells them, that, the town abounds

    “With such variety of manufactures, as, one would think,
    might furnish every one, that is able and willing to work,
    with employment and sustenance. Nay, there are many branches
    of business that require so little skill or labour, as that
    neither children nor old people need to be totally excluded
    from their share of them; so that a numerous family,—that
    common occasion of distress,—far from being a burden here,
    seems rather to be a blessing to its master; for most of the
    members of it, if properly managed, are able to get their
    livelihood; and, by the overplus of their gains, may contribute
    to maintain the impotent part of the household.”

    “Many of the poor, however, refuse or neglect to help
    themselves, and thereby disable their betters from effectually
    helping them. They have an abject mind, which entails their
    miseries upon them; a mean, sordid spirit, which prevents all
    attempts of bettering their condition. They are so familiarized
    to filth and rags, as renders them in a manner natural; and
    have so little sense of decency, as hardly to allow a wish for
    it a place in their hearts.”

Clayton acknowledges, that, there are many exceptions of “edifying
examples of industry, frugality, and good economy;” but he maintains,
that, generally speaking, his description is painfully correct. The
town swarmed with “loiterers”; and “common custom had established so
many holidays, that few of the manufacturing work-folks were closely
and regularly employed above two thirds of their time;” the result
being “that every little accident, that prevented a single week’s work,
reduced them absolutely to the state of paupers.” Besides this, “it
frequently happened, that, the week’s labour of an industrious family,
were swallowed up in a day’s debauch of the extravagant master.” Vice
is contagious, and the pestilent example of masters filled the streets
of Manchester “with idle, ragged children; who were not only losing
their time, but learning habits of gaming; which constantly produced
lying, quarrelling, profane swearing and cursing; and frequently, led to
pilfering and stealing, and every degree of wickedness and enormity.”
Added to this, while “the husband wasted his time and squandered his
substance at the alehouse, the wife was as often wasteful at the
tea-table, as the other was prodigal over his cups; for, strange as it
might appear, it was a truth that even this wretched piece of luxury,
this shameful devourer of time and money, had found its way into the
houses of the poor; and it was no unusual thing to find a miserable
family, with hardly rags to cover their nakedness, in a wretched garret,
or more loathsome cellar, fooling away a precious hour, and spending more
money over this confessedly hurtful food,” (beverage) “than would have
furnished a good meal or two of wholesome diet.” In fact, “ale, gin, and
tea mainly swallowed up that slender income, which might have been turned
to much better account, had it been laid out with the baker and the
butcher.”

Clayton adds mismanagement to his charges of idleness and luxury. There
was a want of “good housewifry,” of “frugal cookery,” and of domestic
cleanliness.

Another extract must suffice:—

    “We cannot walk the streets without being annoyed with such
    filth as is a public nuisance; as well as seeing such objects
    as provoke resentment and aversion. We are grown infamous for
    a general want of good manners in our populace; and no wonder,
    because they are bred up in such habits of nastiness, as, in
    a manner, break through the ties of natural modesty, and set
    them beyond all sense of shame. The streets are no better than
    a common dunghill; and more sacred places are most shamefully
    polluted. Our very church-yards are profaned with such filth
    as was once intended to create a detestation and abhorrence
    even of idol temples;—I mean they are rendered no better than
    errant draught-houses. Common decency will not allow me to be
    more particular upon so loathsome a subject; and, if enough
    is said to be understood, it is to be hoped it will effect a
    reformation.”

Clayton, besides being an able instructor of the young, and an
indefatigable parish priest, wished to be a social reformer; and,
certainly, his services, in this respect, were greatly needed. His
picture of Manchester, a little more than a hundred years ago, is far
from savoury; but there can be little doubt of its being true. Clayton’s
plain speaking would hardly be tolerated at the present day; but,
notwithstanding that, perhaps, it might be useful. At all events, one
cannot but admire the stern fidelity of this really kind and exemplary
visitor of the poor and friendless, in dealing so faithfully with his
fellow-townsmen, who, by their idleness and extravagance, systematically
reduced themselves to rags and ruin; and, if the above extracts answer
no other purpose, they will not be useless in helping to illustrate the
character and principles of this Oxford Methodist.[50]

Clayton’s life was not mis-spent; but it might have been much more useful
if his friendship with the Wesleys had not been broken. John Wesley,
between the years 1738 and 1773, visited Manchester more than twenty
times; and some of these visits were so memorable, that, Clayton must
have heard of them; and, yet, there is not the slightest evidence of
any renewal of that fraternal intercourse which was interrupted when
Wesley began to preach salvation by faith only, and, in consequence, was
excluded from the pulpits of the Established Church. This was heresy too
great for a high churchman to overlook. To be saved by faith in Christ,
instead of by sacraments, fasts, penances, ritualism, and good works was
an unpardonable novelty, deserving of Clayton’s life-long censure; and
hence, after 1738, the two old Oxford friends seem to have been separated
till they met in heaven. It is rather remarkable, that, Wesley’s first
visit to Manchester, subsequent to his conversion, was at the very time
when the Jacobite controversy, already mentioned, was at its height; and
that Wesley preached at Salford Cross, immediately adjoining Clayton’s
residence. He writes:—

    “1747, May 7.—We came to Manchester between one and two. I had
    no thought of preaching here, till I was informed, John Nelson
    had given public notice, that I would preach at one o’clock.
    Their house would not contain a tenth part of the people;
    and how the unbroken spirits of so large a town would endure
    preaching in the street, I knew not. But after considering,
    that, I was not going a warfare at my own cost, I walked
    strait to Salford Cross. A numberless crowd of people partly
    ran before, partly followed after me. I thought it best not
    to sing, but, looking round; asked abruptly, ‘Why do you look
    as if you had never seen me before? Many of you have seen me
    in the neighbouring church, both preaching and administering
    the sacrament.’ I then began, ‘Seek ye the Lord while He may
    be found; call upon Him while He is near.’ None interrupted
    at all or made any disturbance, till, as I was drawing to a
    conclusion, a big man thrust in, with three or four more,
    and bade them bring out the engine. Our friends desired me
    to remove into a yard just by, which I did, and concluded in
    peace.”

Clayton at the time was suspended from exercising ministerial functions
by his bishop; but he was probably in Manchester, and in a neighbouring
house; but there was no recognition of his quondam friend. Wesley might
have called upon him; but perhaps Clayton’s dubious position, as a
clergyman suspended for his Jacobinical leanings, prevented this. Wesley
himself had been falsely accused of being a friend of the Pretender, and
common prudence dictated the inexpediency of seeking the company of one
who had shown Charles Edward such marks of sympathy and respect.

At his next visit but one, Wesley writes:—

    “1752, March 27.—Being Good Friday, I went to the Old Church,
    where Mr. Clayton read Prayers; I think the most distinctly,
    solemnly, and gracefully of any man I ever heard; and the
    behaviour of the whole congregation was serious and solemn in
    every part of the service. But I was surprised to see such a
    change in the greater part of them, as soon as the sacrament
    was over. They were then bowing, courtesying, and talking to
    each other, just as if they were going from a play.”

Did Wesley join in this sacramental service? Was Clayton one of the
administrators? Was there any intercourse between the two?

Another of Wesley’s visits was in 1755, the year in which Clayton
published his “Friendly Advice to the Poor”; and Wesley’s entry in
his journal shows that reformation was needed not only among the
working-classes, but their superiors.

    “1755, April 9.—In the evening I preached at Manchester.
    The mob was tolerably quiet as long as I was speaking, but
    immediately after raged horribly. This, I find, has been their
    manner for some time. No wonder; since the good justices
    encourage them.”

It was a year after this, when Charles Wesley attended the Collegiate
church every day for a whole week, and every day stood close to Clayton,
and yet the latter would not even look at him.

Here we must leave the Jacobite Churchman. Of his sincerity, and of
his earnest purpose faithfully to fulfil his office as a minister of
the Church of England, there can be no question; but, remembering the
sacred associations and Methodist meetings of Oxford, this priestly
superciliousness was not to be commended, even though his two former
friends were now excluded from Church of England pulpits, and were so
ecclesiastically irregular as to preach in the open air.




REV. BENJAMIN INGHAM, THE YORKSHIRE EVANGELIST.


Benjamin Ingham was born at Osset, in Yorkshire, June 11th, 1712. Like
the Wesleys, he was a descendant of one of the ministers ejected from
the Church of England by the black Bartholomew Act of 1662.[51] Having
received a liberal education at the grammar-school, Batley, he was sent,
when about eighteen years of age, to Queen’s College, Oxford. Two years
afterwards, he joined the Methodists. None of that godly brotherhood
were more diligent and devout than this young Yorkshireman. Hence, the
following letter addressed to his friend Wesley:—

                                      “OSSET, _February 27th, 1734_.

    “HONOURED SIR,—I meet with many cases of conscience in the
    country, though I can find no casuist to solve them. I did
    not altogether know the advantage of living at Oxford so well
    before as I do now. They that have it in their power to reside
    there, are wise if they do so. To act well in the country,
    requires more knowledge, prudence, and a great deal more zeal.
    It is scarce possible to imagine how wicked the world is.
    The generality are dead in trespasses and sins. Even those
    who would pass for good Christians, are sunk deep in a dead
    indifference. Sincerity is as rare as a black swan. Since I
    left your good brother, I have only met with one person that is
    in good earnest for heaven, except that poor rug-maker. God,
    indeed, is chief in his heart. The most wholesome discipline
    and best discourses have no effect upon most people. They are
    no more moved and concerned than a stone. Reflecting frequently
    on this, has confirmed my belief of an election of grace.
    I should be glad to know your thoughts on the subject at a
    convenient opportunity.

    “Since my coming into the country, I have frequently been much
    affected with lively meetings; which has compensated me much,
    and made me easy and cheerful. What dejects me most is when I
    lie long, or am idle, or in company where I can do no good. I
    desire to know how I ought to act when I am in company with
    superiors, who talk only about trifles. Alas! Sir, I am vastly
    deficient in this singularity, which is a material point;
    though, blessed be God! I have now a footman to call me, who
    visits me early, so that I hope to mend.

    “I have methodized my time according to the following scheme.
    Suppose I rise at five, or sooner, I spend till six in
    devotion,—repeating a hymn, and chanting a psalm, then praying
    and reading the Holy Scriptures. At six, Christian treatises.
    At seven, we breakfast. I then get a lesson out of the New
    Testament, then a Collect, and most of the Common Prayer.
    Then forty-two poor children come to me to read. I propose to
    observe the three ancient hours of prayer when at home. From
    nine to eleven, I read in the Greek Testament, according to
    Frank’s. At eleven, I go to teach the rug-maker’s children
    to read. Twelve, dine; read Morris’s ‘Shorthand.’ Two, Greek
    Testament. Four, walk. Five, devotion. Six, Monday, I choose
    the subject beforehand. Seven, supper; and read Milton and
    other religious books with the family. Nine, pray for myself
    and friends. On Wednesday and Friday, from eight to nine,
    meditate on my sins; twelve to one, on Christ’s sufferings; two
    to three, read Morris. On Sunday, spend two hours in reading
    with the family or some poor neighbours.

    “I shall readily submit to your better directions. Supposing a
    friend to visit me on a stationary day,[52] how must I behave
    myself? In eating and drinking, should I confine myself to such
    a quantity, when with strangers? Your directions in these cases
    will be very useful.

    “My hearty love to your brother, and all friends. I have
    received a letter from Mr. Smith. He says he will acquaint his
    tutor with all his concerns. I design shortly to write to Mr.
    Ford and Watson. I earnestly desire the hearty prayers of all
    friends.

    “From your most obliged and affectionate friend and servant,

                                                        “B. INGHAM.”

Here we have another glimpse of Oxford Methodism,—intense
conscientiousness, concern on account of surrounding wickedness, early
rising, religious employment of every hour, devout study, care for
neglected children, and observance of the weekly fasts; but not a word
respecting the great truth, that sinners are saved by the alone merits of
Jesus Christ, and by a penitential trust in His all-sufficient sacrifice.
These were truths which the Oxford Methodists had yet to learn. Ingham,
like Kirkham, the Morgans, and Clayton, looked to Wesley for guidance;
but, in this respect, Wesley as yet was an incompetent instructor.

Ingham mentions his teaching forty-two children how to read, and his
Sunday meetings among the poor people at Osset. Such efforts to improve
his neighbours deserve to be commended; and it is a pleasant duty to
relate, that, his benevolent endeavours were attended with great success.
Numbers of persons were convinced of their lost condition as sinners: and
thus was commenced a religious movement akin to that, which, eight years
afterwards, seemed to upheave a large portion of the West Riding of the
county of York.

Notwithstanding his prayers, fasts, scripture reading, and diligence,
Ingham was not happy; and no wonder. He was a conscientious, earnest
Pharisee, seeking to be saved by works of righteousness, rather than
by penitential faith in Christ. The following letter, also addressed
to Wesley, and written nine months after the former one, shows how
dissatisfied he was with his present religious state; and reveals a
scrupulousness of conscience in reference to shooting and Quakers, which
is somewhat amusing:—

                                        “OSSET, _November 30, 1734_.

    “REV. SIR,—Such is the wretchedness of my station at present,
    that, if I durst, shame would persuade me to conceal it from my
    best friends. God, of His great goodness, has been pleased to
    chastise me, for my sins, with an ague. I am afraid, I shall
    make but a very indifferent use of this Fatherly correction. It
    may justly be expected that I should be more dead to the world,
    and filled with more fervent longings and thirstings after God;
    that my diligence would have been quickened, and my devotion
    inflamed. But, alas! sir, I am become more sensual, more
    indulgent, and more subject to vanity. To early prayer I am now
    a stranger. I think it well to rise at seven. In my sickness,
    my thoughts, for the most part, were monstrous and trifling. I
    would fain make my distemper an excuse; and, though it weakened
    my body, it is strange that it should disorder my soul. To
    give you one instance of my weakness: When I was pretty well
    recovered, I could not deny myself so much as to walk out for
    my health; and yet, with but little persuasion, I went several
    times a shooting. Nay, I thought it necessary, though I had
    renounced it. But it pleased God graciously to let my distemper
    relapse, which took away the power, though not the desire of
    going.

    “At present, I keep altogether at home, scarcely stirring
    out of doors. My eyes are weak; yet I am in a fair way of
    recovering my bodily health. The only thing in which I have
    not been much deficient, is in teaching the children, and
    conversing at night with the neighbours, when able to do it.
    And, indeed, this has been a means of saving myself from
    utterly sinking. God hath been pleased to bless my weak
    endeavours with pretty good success; and, I find, that, He
    manifests the effects when we least expect it, hereby telling
    us that not our endeavours, but His Almighty arm doth the work.

    “The honest rugmaker makes very slow advances in learning. I
    think to dissuade him from it, unless you advise me to the
    contrary.

    “My sister proceeds excellently, and, by her example, provokes
    me to what otherwise I should not do.

    “I desire you to resolve me: Will it be lawful to sell a thing
    above its worth, purely because the buyer hath a desire of
    it? Also, whether it be convenient or lawful for a Christian
    to dwell with a Quaker when under no necessity? Also, whether
    persons ought to eat, or openly declare they fast, when no
    necessity puts them upon it?

    “Dear Sir, let me beg your earnest prayers for your unworthy,
    most obliged Friend and Servant,

                                                         “B. INGHAM.

    “My love to your good brother, etc.

    “I have heard from Mr. Burton. Mr. Wogan joins with him in
    service to you and your brother. He expects to return by
    Oxford about Christmas. They were indifferently in health. If
    I recover my health perfectly, would you advise me to visit
    Mr. Clayton before I return to Oxford? Our family send their
    service.

    “For the Rev. Mr. John Wesley,

                                  “Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxon.”

From the above, it is quite evident that the Oxford Methodists regarded
the Quakers as not Christians; yea, as people, in whose houses, it was
doubtful whether Christians, except in cases of necessity, ought to
dwell. This was not surprising. Sacraments, fasts, and feast days were
essentials among the Oxford Methodists; among the Quakers they were
utterly neglected. The religion of the Methodists, to a great extent,
consisted in the observance of outward forms; the religion of the
Quakers, to an equal extent, in the neglect of them.

Ingham returned to Oxford in February, 1735; and was ordained in Christ
Church, by Bishop Potter, on the 1st of June following. On the day of his
ordination, he preached his first sermon, his congregation consisting
of the prisoners in Oxford Castle. On the 4th of the same month, he
proceeded, with Mr. Gambold, to London, where he was engaged as the
“reader of public prayers at Christ Church, and at St. Sepulchre’s,”
Newgate Street. Ingham’s zeal was too fervent to be pent up in the
reading-desks of these city churches. His age was only twenty-three; he
was full of youthful buoyancy, and longed for a wider sphere of action.
In Yorkshire, he had held conversational meetings in his mother’s house;
but now, for the first time, he was allowed to mount the pulpit, and to
preach. Christ Church and St. Sepulchre’s had other, probably older, men
than himself as preachers; but, rather than be silent, away he went, on
a sort of ecclesiastical itinerancy, far beyond the precincts of London
proper, and preached in many of the surrounding villages, and with such
singular success, that great numbers of the people were powerfully
impressed, and had eternal cause to be grateful for his youthful and
fervid ministry.[53]

The Oxford Methodists were already scattered. In consequence of his
father’s death, on April 25, 1735, Wesley had gone to Epworth. His
brother Charles, ordained about the same time as Ingham, had also taken
his departure from Oxford. Clayton was in Manchester; Hervey at home;
Gambold in London. The following letter, addressed to Wesley, and written
a fortnight after Ingham’s ordination, contains interesting references to
this religious brotherhood.

     “MR. LISSON’S, GEORGE YARD, SNOW HILL, LONDON, _June 17, 1735_.

    “REV. SIR,—The chief intent of this is to express my respect
    and gratitude to you, and dear Mr. Charles, as at your
    departure from Oxford there might seem to be some indifference
    between us; but, according to the old saying, _Amantium irae
    amoris redintegratio est_; my affections have the more inflamed
    since that, and I have often thought of writing to inform you
    of it, but hitherto have delayed. I have reason to believe
    you have met with a variety of trials at Epworth, and I have
    heard you evil spoken of abroad; and, for these reasons, I do
    assure you I love you the more, and pray the more earnestly
    for you. You have heard of the fluctuating condition of some
    acquaintance at Oxford. London friends have much the same
    esteem for you: ‘You are a good man, but you are too rigid,’
    etc. ‘Master, in so saying, thou reproachest us also.’

    “But to give you some good news. Mr. Salmon[54] is a sincere
    friend. Mr. Whitefield is well known to you. I contracted
    great intimacy with him since your departure. He is zealous
    in a good cause. All friends at Queen’s College I left in
    a hopeful condition. Their number is increased, and, I
    verily believe, will increase. Mr. Hervey fights manfully in
    Northamptonshire. Mr. Broughton is really a holy man. Mr.
    Morgan (I suppose you have heard his case, how he is forbid
    all conversation with you or your friends, etc.), I hope, will
    make a good Christian. Our friends at Osset go on very well.
    I baptized Piggot, and preached at the Castle the day I was
    ordained. I think there were thirty, save one, at the sacrament
    at St Mary’s the day before I came to London. Piggot and some
    of our friends were confirmed on Sunday. Mr. Gambold came with
    me to London, and is with me at Mr. Lissons’s. He returns to
    Oxford with Mr. Hall, who has been here a considerable time,
    on Saturday. On Friday, I shall set forward for Matching.[55]
    I cannot tell how long I shall stay there. I have thoughts
    of visiting my friends in Yorkshire; and, if you continue at
    Epworth, I think to come and see you. I have also a desire to
    see Mr. Clayton, at Manchester. I have been with Mr. Gambold
    and Hall to see Mr. Law.[56] We asked him some questions; but
    he talked only about man’s fall, and the one thing necessary.
    He is a divine man.

    “I like several of the religious people in London pretty
    well; but I must confess they are not over zealous. I have
    had a great many turns and changes since I saw you. I believe
    I must be perfected through sufferings. Notwithstanding, by
    the blessing of God, I hope to press on, and persevere in the
    constant use of all the means of grace. I intend, at present,
    to read the Scriptures in English, together with Mr. Law’s
    books.

    “My hearty respects to your brother and mother. Mrs. Lissons
    sends her service. Pray let me hear from you shortly. When I
    shall have the happiness of seeing you, or your brother, I
    shall acquaint you with many particulars which I cannot now
    mention. In the meantime, I rest, dear Sir, your sincere and
    affectionate friend, and brother in Christ,

                                                        “B. INGHAM.”

    “For the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, at Epworth, to be left at the
    Post Office in Gainsborough, Lincolnshire.”

“A man’s heart deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his steps.”
Within three months after this, Wesley wrote to Ingham, in substance, as
follows:—“Fast and pray; and then send me word whether you dare go with
me to the Indians.” Ingham’s answer will be found in the following long
letter, or journal, dated “Savannah, May 1st, 1736;” and which is now,
for the first time, published at _full length_. The substance of it was
given in the “Wesley Banner” for 1852; but it is here printed verbatim,
and without abridgment. Perhaps, and indeed, probably, the letter was an
extract from a longer journal; but if so, the journal is unknown. The
document is long, and somewhat loosely written; but, besides illustrating
Ingham’s character, it contains a considerable amount of interesting
information, and will serve to confirm the journals of Wesley and his
brother, and to fill up gaps in them:—

                                         “SAVANNAH, _May 1st, 1736_.

    “To my much-honoured Mother, my dearly beloved Brethren and
    Sisters, and all my Christian Friends:—Grace, mercy and peace
    be multiplied from Almighty God, the Father, and from our Lord
    Jesus Christ, with the Holy Ghost; to whom be glory, honour,
    and praise for ever and ever. Amen.

    “Blessed, for ever blessed be the God and Father of our Lord
    Jesus Christ, the Father of all mercy, and the God of all
    consolation, who, of His great goodness, has been graciously
    pleased to conduct us safe through the terrors of the great
    deep! ‘They that go down to the sea in ships, and occupy
    their business in great waters, these men see the works of
    the Lord, and His wonders in the deep, for, at His word, the
    stormy wind ariseth, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They
    are carried up to the heavens, and down again to the deep.
    Their soul melteth away because of the trouble. They reel to
    and fro, and are tossed up and down, so that they are at their
    wit’s end. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and
    He delivereth them out of their distress. For He maketh the
    storm to cease, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are
    they glad, because they are at rest; and so He bringeth them
    unto the haven where they would be! O! that men would therefore
    praise the Lord for His goodness, and declare the wonders that
    He doeth to the children of men!’

    “I can now inform you that we are all arrived in safety
    in Georgia. But, because I believe that a relation of our
    voyage will not be unacceptable to you, I shall, with God’s
    assistance, set down both the chief occurrences thereof, and
    also the reasons which moved me to undertake it. But, lest
    you should think of me, or my designs, more highly than you
    ought to think, I do assure you that I am a very grievous and
    abominable sinner, proud, sensual, and self-willed. And, oh!
    that I was truly sensible, and heartily sorry of being so! Oh!
    that it would please Almighty God, of His great grace, to make
    me thoroughly humble and contrite! Oh! that my sins were done
    away; that my nature was changed; that I was a new creature in
    Christ Jesus! Then, perhaps, God would make me an instrument to
    His glory. Oh! my dear friends, I beg of you, I entreat you, I
    beseech you, pray mightily to God in my behalf, that I may not
    be a castaway.

    “About six weeks before we took shipping for Georgia, I
    received a letter from the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, Fellow of
    Lincoln College, Oxford, the substance whereof was as follows:
    ‘Fast and pray; and then send me word whether you dare go with
    me to the Indians,’ Having observed his directions, about
    three days after the receipt of this, I answered him to this
    effect: ‘I am satisfied that God’s providence has placed me in
    my present station. Whether He would have me go to the Indians
    or not, I am not as yet informed. I dare not go without being
    called,’ I kept his letter secret for some days. I was utterly
    averse from going. I thought we had heathens anew at home.
    However, I continued to pray that God would be pleased to
    direct me, whether He would have me go, or not.

    “About a fortnight after this, Mr. John Wesley came to London,
    as also his brother Charles, and Mr. Salmon, a gentleman of
    Brazen-Nose College, Oxon. The first time I was with them, I
    desired to know the reasons which moved them to leave England.
    They answered, they thought they could be better Christians,
    alleging particular advantages which they might reasonably
    expect would further their spiritual progress, by going amongst
    the Indians. Some of their reasons I approved of; to others
    I objected, alleging that a man might be a Christian in any
    place, but chiefly insisting upon this, that no one ought to
    go without being called of God. They told me, if I required a
    voice or sign from heaven, that was not now to be expected;
    and that a man had no other way of knowing God’s will, but by
    consulting his own reason, and his friends, and by observing
    the order of God’s providence. They, therefore, thought it
    a sufficient call to choose that way of life which they had
    reason to believe would most promote their Christian welfare.
    Our conversation being ended, they lent me several letters,
    written by Mr. Oglethorpe, relating to the Indians, their
    manner of living, their customs, and their great expectation
    of having a white man come amongst them to teach them wisdom.
    All this moved me a little, but I had no mind to leave England.
    However, I now began to pray more frequently and fervently that
    God would be pleased to direct me to do His will.

    “Besides the three gentlemen aforementioned, there was also one
    Mr. Hall, brother-in-law to Mr. Wesley, resolutely determined
    to go. When they had been in London about ten days, in which
    time I frequently conversed with them, I found my heart so
    moved one night, by being with Mr. John Wesley, that, almost
    without thinking it, I said to him, ‘If neither Mr. Hall nor
    Mr. Salmon go along with you, I will go.’ At that time, there
    seemed no probability that either of them would draw back. They
    were both of them ordained by the Bishop of London in order to
    go: Mr. Salmon, deacon; Mr. Hall, both deacon and priest.

    “But, lo! Mr. Salmon was immediately seized upon by his
    relations in town, and was sent down, post haste, to his
    parents in Cheshire. Upon his arrival, his father left the
    house, furious and distracted, protesting he would not return
    unless his son would stay. His mother, also, was labouring
    under a fever. In this distress, he knew not what to do; but he
    promised his parents to stay, and wrote Mr. Wesley word that he
    hoped to follow him next spring, though since then he has writ
    to him, telling him he doth not think himself as yet at liberty
    to leave father and mother.

    “However, Mr. Hall still continued steady. Neither his wife,
    nor mother, nor brother, nor uncle, nor all his friends, either
    by prayers, tears, threats, or entreaties, could, in the least,
    turn him aside from his purpose.

    “A few days after this, Mr. Wesley began to be more importunate
    with me, urging me with my promise, telling me he had now
    little hope of Mr. Salmon; and, as for Mr. Hall, he could
    not properly be said to go with him, for his design was to
    go amongst the Indians, whereas Mr. Hall was only to go to
    Savannah, and be minister there; and as for his brother
    Charles, he went over only as secretary to the trustees for the
    colony of Georgia.

    “I still refused, telling him, ‘If Mr. Hall went, I would not
    go.’ Nevertheless, I prayed very earnestly, almost night and
    day revolving upon it. My heart began to be now more and more
    affected. It pleased God to let me see I might be a better
    Christian by going with Mr. Wesley. I thought, by living
    with him and having his example always before mine eyes, I
    should be enabled to rise regularly and early, and to spend
    all my time carefully, which are great and necessary points
    in Christianity, and wherein I grew very deficient by living
    in London. Besides these, there were three other reasons
    which moved me. I thought, I should not meet with so many
    temptations, to sensuality and indulgence, among the Indians
    as in England. Hereby, likewise, I saw I should be freed from
    the slavery of worldly interests, and the danger and drudgery
    of hunting for preferment, which hinders so many from being
    Christians, making them to betray the Church to serve the
    State, and to deny Jesus Christ to please worldly-minded men.
    The last and chief reason was the goodness of the work, and the
    great and glorious promises that are made to those who forsake
    all for the sake of the gospel.[57]

    “Notwithstanding all these reasons, I was not yet fully
    determined to go; but, what is very remarkable, the Psalms, the
    Lessons, and all that I then read suggested to me that I should
    go. So that, being at Morning Prayers in Westminster Abbey,
    on Tuesday, October 7th, 1735, the tenth chapter of St. Mark,
    which was then read, made so strong and vigorous an impression
    upon me, that, at the hearing of these words, ‘And Jesus
    answered and said, Verily, I say unto you, there is no man that
    hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother,
    or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel’s,
    but he shall receive an hundred-fold now in this time, houses,
    and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and
    lands, with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal
    life,’—I determined in my heart that I would go. I may likewise
    observe that, without any intention or design, I read the same
    chapter the next day at St. Sepulchre’s Church, which did not a
    little strengthen my resolution.

    “Though I was thus determined in my own mind, yet I did not
    make known my purpose to Mr. Wesley; but told him there were
    three objections against my going. My mother and Mr. Nicolson
    knew nothing of the matter; whereas I ought to have acquainted
    them both and obtained their consent. To these Mr. Wesley
    answered, he did not doubt but God would provide better for
    the school in my absence than if I stayed, especially if
    I recommended it to His care in my prayers, which I have
    constantly done. Mr. Morgan, likewise, a gentleman of Lincoln
    College, Oxford, who came up to London to take leave of Mr.
    Wesley, a zealous and sincere Christian, being very earnest
    with me to go, promised himself to make a journey into
    Yorkshire to see my mother, and to do what he could towards
    settling the school. As to having my mother’s consent, he
    said, if I thought it was God’s will, I must obey my Master,
    and go wherever I could do Him service, whether my relations
    were willing or not. But, however, I could not go without Mr.
    Nicolson’s knowledge and consent, because that would be leaving
    the parish unprovided, which would be unlawful. We therefore
    put the matter upon this issue,—if Mr. Nicolson consented, I
    might go; if not, then there was a reasonable hindrance against
    my going at this time. Mr. Nicolson had been some weeks at his
    parish of Matching, in Essex, whereof I was curate. He usually
    came to town on Saturdays, but, by a wonderful Providence, he
    was now brought to town on Monday night. His intent was to have
    returned the next day, but he was strangely detained, by one
    thing or other, till Wednesday. I would gladly have met with
    him on Tuesday, but could not find him at home. However, I writ
    a letter, and ordered it to be given him as soon as he came.
    Next morning, he came to my lodgings at Mr. Lissons’s. He told
    me he had received my letter, which had acquainted him with my
    designs. He was sorry to part with me; my warning was short;
    my departure was sudden; yet, as I was going about a good
    work, he would not oppose me; and, provided I could preach the
    Sunday following, he would give me his consent. I went to Mr.
    Oglethorpe to know if I could stay so long. He said, I might. I
    returned, acquainted Mr. Nicolson, and so parted with him very
    friendly, he going directly into the country.

    “After this, I made known my designs, and got things in
    readiness as fast as I could. My friends in town endeavoured to
    persuade me; but I did not consult them, but God.

    “On _Friday_, October 10, 1735, I made my will, which I sent
    inclosed in a letter to you at Osset.

    “_Sunday_, October 12, I preached at St. Mary Somerset[58] in
    the morning, and at St. Sepulchre’s in the afternoon. Service
    being ended, I took leave of my good old friend, Mrs. Lissons,
    and her family, who wept much—my cousin, Robert Harrap, and
    some other friends. Thence I went to Sir John Philips’, a very
    worthy gentleman, and a devout Christian, who showed me a great
    deal of respect, and did me many favours when I was in London,
    where, having exhorted one another, we kneeled down to pray,
    and so parted. Thence I went with Mr. Morgan to Mr. Hutton’s,
    a good family in Westminster, where we spent the next day
    with Messrs. Wesley, chiefly in private. But there happened
    such a remarkable circumstance on it, as I cannot pass over
    in silence. Mr. Hall, who had made great preparations for the
    voyage, and had now got all things ready for his departure,
    having this very morning hired a coach to carry himself and
    wife down to Gravesend, where the ship lay, at the very hour
    wherein they should have gone, drew back. He came unexpectedly,
    and told Mr. Oglethorpe, his uncle and mother would get him a
    living, and, therefore, he would not go. So he, whom all his
    friends could not dissuade before, lost himself, and dropped
    all his resolutions in the very last moments.

    “This strange occurrence, which was so much beyond all
    expectation, was a strong and fresh demonstration to me, that
    it was God’s will I should go. Because, as I observed, I had
    said to Mr. Wesley some time ago, ‘If neither Mr. Hall nor Mr.
    Salmon go along with you, I will go.’—And again, ‘If Mr. Hall
    goes, I will not go.’

    “Having now no further doubt, but, that, I was intended by
    Providence to accompany Mr. Wesley, on _Tuesday_, October 14,
    he, his brother, Mr. Charles, myself, and Mr. Delamotte, son
    of a merchant in London, who had a mind to leave the world,
    and give himself up entirely to God, being accompanied by
    Mr. Morgan, Mr. Burton, (one of the trustees), and Mr. James
    Hutton, took boat at Westminster, for Gravesend. We arrived
    there about four in the afternoon, and immediately went on
    board the ship, called the _Symmonds_.

    “We had two cabins allotted us in the forecastle; I and Mr.
    Delamotte having the first, and Messrs. Wesley the other.
    Theirs was made pretty large, so that we could all meet
    together to read or pray in it. This part of the ship was
    assigned to us by Mr. Oglethorpe, as being most convenient for
    privacy.

    “_Wednesday_ and _Thursday_ we spent chiefly with Mr. Morgan
    and Mr. Hutton, exhorting and encouraging one another. We also
    received the Lord’s Supper with them each day, thereby to
    strengthen our spiritual strength and resolutions. They were
    both sorry to part with us; and, I believe, Mr. Morgan would
    have been very glad to have gone along with us.

    “_Friday_, October 17, Mr. John Wesley, began to learn the
    German tongue, in order to converse with the Moravians, a
    good, devout, peaceable, and heavenly-minded people, who
    were persecuted by the Papists, and driven from their native
    country, upon the account of their religion. They were
    graciously received and protected by Count Zinzendorf, of
    Hernhuth, a very holy man, who sent them over into Georgia,
    where lands will be given them. There are twenty-six of them
    in our ship; and almost the only time that you could know they
    were in the ship, was when they were harmoniously singing the
    praises of the Great Creator, which they constantly do in
    public twice a day, wherever they are. Their example was very
    edifying. They are more like the Primitive Christians than
    any other church now in the world; for they retain both the
    faith, practice, and discipline delivered by the Apostles.
    They have regularly ordained bishops, priests, and deacons.
    Baptism, confirmation, and the eucharist are duly administered.
    Discipline is strictly exercised without respect of persons.
    They all submit themselves to their pastors, being guided by
    them in everything. They live together in perfect love and
    peace, having, for the present, all things in common. They
    are more ready to serve their neighbours than themselves. In
    their business, they are diligent and industrious; in all their
    dealings, strictly just and conscientious. In everything, they
    behave themselves with great meekness, sweetness, and humility.

    “_Saturday_, October 18. This morning, Mr. John Wesley and
    I began to read the Old Testament, which we finished during
    our voyage. Mr. Wesley likewise baptised a man of thirty, who
    before only had received lay baptism.[59] I was witness.

    “_Sunday_, October 19. Mr. John Wesley began to preach without
    notes, expounding a portion of Scripture extempore, according
    to the ancient usage. During our passage, he went over our
    Saviour’s Sermon on the Mount. He also constantly explained
    the Second Lesson, except when he catechized the children;
    whereby, all that heard, with sincere hearts, were much
    edified. To-day, being the first time we celebrated the Lord’s
    Supper publicly, (which we did constantly every Lord’s-day
    afterwards,) we had but three communicants besides ourselves;—a
    small number, yet God has been graciously pleased to add to
    them. All love, all glory, be to Thee, O Lord!

    “_Monday_, October 20 I began to teach and catechize the
    children on board our ship, being in number about twelve. I
    likewise helped two or three of the Moravians[60] to learn
    English. This I continued to do several weeks, till we came out
    to sea, and then I could but do it seldom, by reason of the
    rolling of the ship. O that we were all like little children,
    willing to be instructed and guided by our Heavenly Father! O
    that we were truly sensible of our own ignorance, and how very
    little the wisest of us knows that is worth knowing! It is God
    that teacheth man knowledge.

    “_Tuesday_, October 21. We left Gravesend, and went down the
    river, though but very slowly, the wind not being favourable to
    us.

    “We now began to be more in earnest. We resolved to rise early,
    and to spend our time regularly and carefully. The first
    hour, we allotted ourselves, was to pray for ourselves and
    absent friends. The next, we read the Scriptures; and, from
    six to breakfast, we generally read something relating to the
    Primitive Church. At eight, we had public prayers. The forenoon
    _I_ spent either in teaching and instructing the children,
    or reading antiquity; _Mr. John Wesley_, in learning German;
    _Mr. Charles Wesley_, mostly in writing; _Mr. Delamotte_, in
    learning Greek, or Navigation. At twelve, we all met together,
    to join in prayer, and to exhort one another, consulting both
    how to profit our neighbours and ourselves. After dinner, I
    taught the children, or conversed religiously with some of the
    passengers, as also Mr. Wesley constantly did. At four, we had
    public prayer. From five to six, we spent in private; then we
    supped. At seven, I read to as many of the passengers as were
    willing to hear, and instructed them in Christianity. Mr. John
    Wesley joined with the Moravians in their public devotions. At
    eight, we all met together again, to give an account of what we
    had done, whom we had conversed with, deliberating on the best
    method of proceeding with such and such persons; what advice,
    direction, exhortation, or reproof was necessary for them;
    and sometimes we read a little, concluding with prayer; and
    so we went to bed about nine, sleeping soundly upon mats and
    blankets, regarding neither the noise of the sea or sailors.
    “The angels of the Lord are round about them that fear Him.”

    “_Monday_, October 27. We sailed from Margate Road to the
    Downs. A gentleman passenger strongly opposed our having
    prayers in the great cabin; and, indeed, he half carried his
    point, so that we were forced to submit to the inconvenience of
    having them between decks in the afternoons, till it pleased
    God to remove him out of the ship.

    “_Sunday_, November 2. We passed the fleet at Spithead, and
    came into Cowes Road, off the Isle of Wight, where we lay
    till the 10th of December. During our stay here, we had an
    excellent opportunity of promoting the work of God among our
    fellow passengers. We met with both opposition and success,
    passing through evil report and good report. May it please
    the Almighty to give us all an abundant measure of His grace,
    to persevere zealously in His service to the end of our days!
    Every Christian must be perfected through sufferings, either
    inward or outward, for even the Captain of our salvation was
    made perfect through suffering; and we are to be like Him.

    “Mr. Charles Wesley, being known to the minister at Cowes,
    preached several times in the island, and read at a poor
    woman’s house to a good number of the people there assembled.
    Before we came away, he left a few books among them. The poor
    people were very glad, expressed much thankfulness, and, I
    believe, were not a little edified by his admonition and
    exhortation.

    “_Monday_, November 3. We took a walk into the Isle, where we
    agreed upon the following resolutions:—

        “‘In the name of God, Amen.

        “‘We whose names are here underwritten, being fully
        convinced, that, it is impossible, either to promote
        the work of God among the heathen without an entire
        union amongst ourselves; or, that, such an union
        should subsist unless each one will give up his
        single judgment to that of the majority, do agree, by
        the help of God:—

        “‘_First._ That none of us will undertake anything of
        importance without first proposing it to the other
        three.

        “‘_Second_. That, whenever our judgments or
        inclinations differ, any one shall give up his single
        judgment or inclination to the others.

        “‘_Third_. That, in case of an equality, after
        begging God’s direction, the matter shall be decided
        by lot,

                                                “‘John Wesley,
                                                C. Wesley,
                                                B. Ingham,
                                                C. Delamotte.’

    “The wind was now fair, but the man-of-war, that was to convey
    us over, was not yet ready. The passengers grew impatient of
    delay; but our Heavenly Father intended it for our good. Known
    unto God are all His works from everlasting. Unsearchable are
    Thy ways, O Lord God of hosts. Blessed art Thou for ever.

    “_Saturday_, November 8. I went upon quarter-deck, after
    dinner, to teach the children; but, because some gentlemen were
    there who laughed at me for it, I was ashamed to proceed. O!
    what a dreadful thing is the fear of man! How does it defeat
    our best purposes, and stagger our stoutest courage! O! how
    deceitful is my heart! If Thou, O Lord, shouldest withdraw Thy
    grace from me but one day, I should utterly renounce Thee, and
    commit the most enormous crimes!

    “_Sunday_, November 16. Mr. John Wesley baptized Thomas
    Herd and Grace, his wife, Mark, his son, and Phœbe, his
    daughter, both adults, having prepared them for it by private
    instruction. To this, I was a witness. They were brought up
    Quakers; but are now serious people and constant communicants.
    Praised be the Lord! who has turned their hearts from error,
    and put them in the right way.

    “_Thursday_, November 20. The man-of-war being come, we left
    Cowes and got down to Yarmouth, where they cast anchor. But
    next morning, the wind being contrary, we were forced back
    again into Cowes Road. During this our latter stay here, there
    were several storms, in one of which, two ships, that ventured
    out, were stranded upon the island. Notwithstanding this,
    several of our people murmured at the delay. If God should deal
    with us according to our deservings, we should be consumed in a
    moment.

    “_Sunday_, November 23. We had, besides ourselves, eight
    communicants. The Tuesday following, I got a boy well whipped,
    by Mr. Oglethorpe’s orders, for swearing and blaspheming.
    Private admonition had no effect upon him, so that I was forced
    to have recourse to public correction.

    “_Sunday_, November 30. I preached on board the other ships,
    and read prayers, which I did several times while we lay
    at Cowes. We now again had prayers in the great cabin, the
    gentleman afore-mentioned having yesterday left the ship.
    Blessed be God! who delivered us from him, for he very much
    opposed us. I did think, and I told it my friends, that, we
    could not sail while he was in the ship. This, perhaps, might
    be one reason why we were kept so long from sailing.

    “_Monday_, December 1. We agreed upon the following
    resolution,—‘If any one upon being reproved, or upon any other
    occasion, shall feel any sort or degree of anger or resentment,
    he shall immediately, or at the next meeting, frankly and fully
    confess it.’

    “_Saturday_, December 6. The second mate, a very insolent and
    ill-natured fellow, who had abused many of the passengers and
    also Mr. Wesley, at last affronted even Mr. Oglethorpe to his
    face. The next day, he was sent on board the man-of-war. The
    people rejoiced at this; and praised be God! who delivered
    them from his power. ‘The fierceness of man shall turn to Thy
    praise; and the fierceness of them shalt Thou restrain.’ This,
    I think, was another reason why we were kept still at Cowes.

    “_Sunday_, December 7. We were fifteen communicants. This
    evening, we resolved to leave off eating suppers, till we found
    some inconvenience from it; which none of us did to the end of
    the voyage. Since our settling in America, Messrs. Wesley and
    Mr. Delamotte have resumed them. As yet, it agrees perfectly
    with my health, and I still continue it.

    “_Monday_, December 8. A young man, very providentially, was
    taken into our ship. I, perceiving that he was a stranger,
    began to converse with him. He gave me an account of himself,
    and the reason of his coming. He had left his parents, he said,
    who were rich, (though he was their only son,) because they
    would not let him serve God as he had a mind. He used to spend
    a good part of the night in prayer, not having opportunity
    to do it by day. When he left home, he did not know where he
    should go, having no clothes with him; but he did not seek for
    money or worldly enjoyments; he desired only to save his soul.
    When he was travelling, he prayed that he might go to some
    place where he could have the advantage of public prayers and
    the Holy Sacrament. Several times he had thoughts of turning
    hermit; but Providence had brought him to us; and he was glad
    to meet with ministers with whom he could freely converse about
    spiritual things; and, indeed, I was glad to meet with him.
    This, I think, was another reason for our delay. All love, all
    glory be to Thee, O Lord!

    “_Wednesday_, December 10. Now, at length, it pleased our
    Heavenly Father to send us a fair wind. We left Cowes about
    nine in the morning. Two gentlemen passengers of the other ship
    were left behind, having, the night before, gone to Portsmouth.
    We waited for them near two hours; but, they not coming, we
    made the best of our way, running between seven and eight miles
    an hour. Friday, in the forenoon, we left the man-of-war,
    he not being able to sail as fast as our ships. Most of the
    passengers were now sick; I was so for about half an hour; Mr.
    John Wesley scarce at all.

    “_Friday_, December 19. Messrs. Wesley and I, with Mr.
    Oglethorpe’s approbation, undertook to visit, each of us, a
    part of the ship, and daily to provide the sick people with
    water-gruel, and such other things as were necessary for them.
    At first, we met with some difficulties; but God enabled us
    to persevere in the constant performance to the end of the
    journey. Mr. Oglethorpe himself went several times about the
    ship to comfort and encourage the people; and, indeed, he
    has never been wanting in this respect. He is a pattern of
    fatherly care and tender compassion, being always ready, night
    and day, to give up his own ease and conveniences to serve the
    poorest body among the people. He seldom eats above once a
    day, and then he usually chooses salt provisions, (though not
    so agreeable to his health,) that, he might give the fresh to
    the sick. But more will appear from the following instance.
    One Mrs. Welch, who was believed to be at the point of death,
    being big with child, in a high fever, attended with a violent
    cough, was, by Mr. Oglethorpe’s order, removed into his own
    cabin, which was the best in the ship, he himself lying several
    nights in a hammock, till another cabin was got ready for him.
    He also constantly supplied her with all the best things in
    the ship. Some of the gentlemen seemed disgusted at this; but
    that made him only the more resolute. Yet, notwithstanding all
    possible care was taken of her, human means failed; the doctor
    gave her up; everybody thought she would die; Mr. Oglethorpe
    only continued in hope. Nay, he said, he was sure God would
    raise her up to manifest His glory in her. She had a desire to
    receive the Lord’s Supper before she died; and, lo! from the
    moment she received, she began to recover, and is now safely
    delivered of a daughter, and in perfect health. ‘Gracious is
    the Lord, and merciful, long-suffering, and of great goodness;
    the Lord is loving to every man, and His mercy is over all His
    works.’

    “_Sunday_, December 21. We were twenty-one communicants. This,
    as well as yesterday, was an exceedingly calm and pleasant
    day. The sky appeared to me more beautiful than ever I had
    observed it in England. We were likewise got so far to the
    southward, that, the weather was as warm now as it is in the
    spring at home. This being Mr. Oglethorpe’s birthday, he gave a
    sheep and wine to the people, which, with the smoothness of the
    sea, and the serenity of the sky, so enlivened them, that, they
    perfectly recovered from their sea sickness. On Christmas-day,
    also, Mr. Oglethorpe gave a hog, and wine to the people.

    “_Monday_, December 29. We are now past the latitude of
    twenty-five degrees, and are got into what they call the Trade
    winds, which blow much the same way all the year round. The air
    is balmy, soft, and sweet. The ship glides smoothly and quietly
    along. The clouds are finely variegated with numbers of pretty
    colours. The nights are mild and pleasant, being beautifully
    adorned with the shining hosts of stars. ‘The heavens declare
    the glory of God, and the firmament showeth His handywork. One
    day telleth another; and one night certifies another.’

        “What, though, in solemn silence, all
        Move round this dark, terrestrial ball;
        What, though nor real voice nor sound
        Amidst their radiant orbs is found;
        In reason’s ear they all rejoice,
        And utter forth a glorious voice,
        For ever singing as they shine,
        ‘The Hand that made us is divine.’

    “1736, _Sunday_, January 4. A gentleman was very angry with me
    for accusing his servant, of swearing, before Mr. Oglethorpe.

    “The next day, Mr. John Wesley began to catechise the children
    publicly, after the Second Lesson evening service, which he
    continued to do every day for about three weeks.

    “_Monday_, January 12. I began to write out the English
    Dictionary, in order to learn the Indian tongue. O! ‘who is
    sufficient for these things?’

    “When the ship rolled so that we could not well go about
    to visit the people, we generally spent the evening in
    conversation with Mr. Oglethorpe, from whom we learnt many
    particulars concerning the Indians.

    “_Saturday_, January 17. The wind was very strong. About half
    an hour after ten at night, we encountered such a wave as we
    did not meet with in all our passage besides. It shook the
    whole frame of the ship, from stem to stern. The water sprung
    through the sides of the ship, which before were tight, and,
    also, above the main-yard. Falling down, it covered the decks,
    broke into the great cabin, and filled Mrs. Welch’s bed. Mr.
    Oglethorpe was gone to bed, and resigned his own dry cabin to
    the sick, betaking himself once more to his hammock. Hitherto,
    we had had a very fine passage; but now, approaching near land,
    we met with contrary winds, which kept us above a fortnight
    longer at sea than otherwise we should have been.

    “_Tuesday_, January 20. I baptized a child, which was thought
    to be at the point of death; nay, some thought it was dead;
    but, from the moment it was baptized, it began to recover.

    “_Wednesday_, January 21. This evening, Mr. Oglethorpe called
    together the heads of families, as he also did at some other
    times, and gave them several excellent and useful instructions
    relating to their living in Georgia, exhorting them likewise to
    love God and one another.

    “_Sunday_, January 25. We were twenty communicants. Towards
    evening, we had a terrible storm, which lasted several hours.
    I observed it well; and, truly, I never saw anything hitherto
    so solemn and majestic. The sea sparkled and smoked, as if it
    had been on fire. The air darted forth lightning; and the wind
    blew so fierce, that, you could scarcely look it in the face,
    and draw your breath. The waves did not swell so high as at
    some other times, being pressed down by the impetuosity of the
    blast; neither did the ship roll much; but it quivered, jarred,
    and shook. About half an hour past seven, a great sea broke in
    upon us, which split the main-sail, carried away the companion,
    filled between decks, and rushed into the great cabin. This
    made most of the people tremble; and, I believe, they would
    then have been glad to have been Christians, how light soever
    they made of religion before. I myself was made sensible, that,
    nothing will enable us to smile in the face of death, but a
    life of extraordinary holiness. I was under some fear for a
    little while; but I recollected myself again, by reflecting
    that every thing came by the will of God; and that whatever He
    willed was the best for me. If, therefore, He was pleased to
    take me off at this very time, so much the better:—I should be
    delivered from many evils, and prevented from committing many
    sins to come. Betwixt eleven and twelve, I recommended myself
    to God, and went to bed, resting satisfied with whatever should
    befal me. Towards three, the wind abated. In the morning, we
    returned public thanks for our deliverance; and, before night,
    most of the people had forgotten, that, they were ever in a
    storm. ‘If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will
    they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.’[61]

    “_Wednesday_, January 28. Being a calm day, I went on board the
    other ship, read prayers, and visited the people. At my return,
    I acquainted Mr. Oglethorpe with their state; and he sent them
    such things as they needed.

    “_Sunday_, February 1. Three sail appearing, we made up towards
    them, and got what letters we could write, in hopes some of
    them might be bound for England. I writ a short one to you at
    Osset. One of them, that was bound for London, made towards us,
    and we put our letters on board her.

    “On Tuesday, we found ground; on Wednesday, we saw land; and,
    on Thursday afternoon, 5th of February, we got safe into
    Tybee-road, in the mouth of the river Savannah, in the province
    of Georgia, in America. Messrs. Wesley, Mr. Delamotte, and
    I had some discourse about our manner of living in this new
    country. I was struck with a deep, religious awe, considering
    the greatness and importance of the work I came upon, but was
    comforted with these words in the Psalms:—‘O! tarry thou the
    Lord’s leisure; be strong, and He shall comfort thy heart; and
    put thou thy trust in the Lord.’ From the whole service, I was
    moved to think, that, the Gospel would be propagated over the
    whole world. May God, of His great mercy, graciously be pleased
    to grant it!

    “_February 6._ We went on shore, and had prayers, where we were
    comforted by the Second Lesson. Next day, I received a letter
    from my brother William, one from my sister Hannah, and another
    from Mr. H. Washington, whereby I was very much comforted. I
    called to mind several things past; reflected upon the sweet
    happiness of true friendship; and prayed earnestly for my dear
    friends in England, with tears.

    “_Saturday_, February 14. This morning, as well as yesterday,
    we met with several remarkable passages, in our course of
    reading the prophets, relating to the propagation of the
    Gospel, which not a little comforted and encouraged us. I was
    also strongly affected by the Second Lesson, Mark xiii.

    “A little after noon, some Indians came to make us a visit.
    We put on our gowns and cassocks; spent some time in prayer;
    and then went into the great cabin to receive them. At our
    entrance, they all rose up; and both men and women shook hands
    with us. When we were all seated, Toma-Chache, their king,
    spoke to us to this effect. (His interpreter was one Mrs.
    Musgrove, who lives about five miles above Savannah. She is
    descended of a white man by an Indian woman. She understands
    both languages, being educated amongst the English. She can
    read and write, and is a well-civilized woman. She is likewise
    to teach us the Indian tongue.)

    “‘Ye are welcome. I am glad to see you here. I have a desire
    to hear the Great Word, for I am ignorant. When I was in
    England, I desired that some might speak the Great Word to me.
    Our nation was then willing to hear. Since that time, we have
    been in trouble. The French on one hand, the Spaniards on the
    other, and the Traders that are amongst us, have caused great
    confusion, and have set our people against hearing the Great
    Word. Their tongues are useless; some say one thing, and some
    another. But I am glad that ye are come. I will assemble the
    great men of our nation, and I hope, by degrees, to compose
    our differences; for, without their consent, I cannot hear
    the Great Word. However, in the meantime, I shall be glad to
    see you at my town; and I would have you teach our children.
    But we would not have them made Christians as the Spaniards
    make Christians; for they baptize without instruction; but we
    would hear and be well instructed, and then be baptized when we
    understood.’

    “All this he spoke with much earnestness, and much action,
    both of his head and hands. Mr. John Wesley made him a short
    answer,—‘God only can teach you wisdom, and, if you be sincere,
    perhaps, He will do it by us.’ We then shook hands with them
    again, and withdrew.

    “The Queen made us a present of a jar of milk, and another of
    honey; that we might feed them, she said, with milk; for they
    were but children; and that we might be sweet to them.

    “About three next day, in the afternoon, just before they went
    away, we put on our surplices, at Mr. Oglethorpe’s desire, and
    went to take leave of them.

    “_Monday_, February 16. About seven this evening, I set forward
    with Mr. Oglethorpe, and some others, in a ten-oared boat,
    for the Alatamahaw river, the southernmost part of Georgia.
    At eleven, we arrived at a place called Skiddowa, where we
    went ashore into the woods, and kindled a fire under a lofty
    pine-tree. Having written some letters, and eaten something, we
    lay down to sleep upon the ground, without either bed or board,
    having no covering, besides our clothes, but a single blanket
    each, and the canopy of heaven. About eight next day, we set
    forward again, passing several marshes, beset on both sides
    with trees of various sorts, whose leaves, being gilded with
    the glorious rays of the sun, yielded a beautiful prospect.
    About twelve, the wind blew so high, that, we were driven upon
    an oyster bank, where we could not get a stick to make a fire.
    Here we dined very comfortably. Near two, we set forward again,
    and, with great difficulty, crossed over the mouth of the river
    Ogechee. The wind was exceeding high, and the water very rough.
    Almost every wave drove over the side of the boat; so that
    every moment we were in jeopardy of our lives; and, truly, if
    Mr. Oglethorpe had not roused up himself, and struck life into
    the rowers, I do not know but most of us might here have made
    our exit. Towards six, we got to a little place, called Boar’s
    Island, where we encamped all right, round a roaring fire, in
    a bed of canes, where the wind could not reach us. Here also
    we came up with a large boat, called a Pettiangur,[62] loaded
    with people for the Alatamahaw, who had set out before us. Next
    morning, after prayers, Mr. Oglethorpe, considering, that, our
    own boat was overladen, and also that I might probably be of
    some service to the people, asked me if I was willing to go
    on board the Pettiangur, whereto I readily consented. Here,
    during the remainder of our passage, I read to the people, and
    instructed them as I had opportunity. This evening, we lay upon
    St. Catherine’s, a very pleasant island, where we met with two
    Indians a-hunting. I took one of them on board the Pettiangur,
    and gave him some biscuit and wine, and he, in return, sent us
    the greatest part of a deer.

    “On _Sunday_ morning, February 22, we arrived at the island of
    St. Simons, upon the river Alatamahaw, a pleasant and fertile
    place, which Mr. Oglethorpe had reached the Thursday night
    before. Several of the people were firing guns, but, upon my
    landing, I asked Mr. Oglethorpe if Sunday was a proper day for
    sporting. He immediately put a stop to it. Having breakfasted,
    we joined in the Litany, and then he returned to Savannah,
    having already put the people in a method of proceeding.

    “Next day in the forenoon, we were alarmed by a sail appearing
    in the river. We called all the people together; and, after
    consultation, we threw up a trench, strengthening it with
    barrels of beef and pork, which we had here in abundance. We
    also sent a canoe down the river, and several men into the
    woods for scouts, to bring us intelligence. In the meantime, we
    got all our arms in readiness, providing for the worst. About
    half an hour past twelve, the canoe returned, and brought us
    word, it was the sloop which brought the provisions, that had
    returned to take in ballast.

    “Two or three of the first days, the people spent in building
    palmetto bowers. We enclosed a little round place with myrtles,
    bays, and laurels, in the midst whereof we nightly kept a great
    fire, round which I lay several weeks in the open air, my whole
    bed consisting of two blankets; and I never had health better
    in my life. Now we had short prayers early in the morning,
    before they began; and at night, after they had done working.
    My chief business was daily to visit the people, to take care
    of those that were sick, and to supply them with the best
    things we had. For a few days at the first, I had everybody’s
    good word; but, when they found I watched narrowly over them,
    and reproved them sharply for their faults, immediately the
    scene changed. Instead of blessing, came cursing, and my love
    and kindness were repaid with hatred and ill-will.

    “_Sunday_, February 29. After morning prayers, which we had
    pretty early, I told the people that, it was the Lord’s day,
    and, therefore, ought to be spent in His service; that, they
    ought not to go a-shooting, or walking up and down in the
    woods; and that, I would take notice of all those who did.
    One man answered, that, these were new laws in America! This
    man, as well as several others went out; but he, I think, was
    two days before he could find his way back again. I reproved
    most of them afterwards, in a friendly manner, laying before
    them the heinousness of the sin, and the dreadful consequences
    that would necessarily follow. One or two took my advice
    well; but the rest were hardened, and, instead of reforming,
    raised heavy complaints and accusations to the gentleman, that
    was left chief in commission, that, I had made a black list;
    and that, I intended to ruin them. This caused a very sharp
    contest between that gentleman and me; wherein God enabled
    me, boldly and courageously, to vindicate the honour of His
    day and worship, without regarding the favour of any man.
    So soon as I was retired, I prayed earnestly from my heart,
    that, God would forgive him, and also give him a new mind;
    which prayer God heard (blessed be His goodness!) for, since
    I came away, he frankly confessed, that, he was in the wrong;
    that, his passions carried him to too great a height; that,
    I was certainly in the right, and had only done what was my
    duty. I mention this to show the great use of praying for our
    enemies. Who knows how much such prayer will avail before God?
    Certainly, it purifies our own heart, and is the only sure
    enemy to keep out hatred, malice, and revenge.

    “_Tuesday_, March 2. This morning, I prayed that God would be
    pleased to send home the lost man, and also make him sensible
    of his sin. About breakfast time, he came looking very ghastly,
    sadly affrighted, telling me he was resolved never more to
    profane the Sabbath. God grant he may keep his word! This
    example would not make others take warning. Next Sunday, three
    more went a-shooting, who were all lost till next day. Nothing
    but the almighty grace of God is sufficient to turn a sinner
    from the error of his ways.

    “_Monday_, March 8. Mr. Oglethorpe arrived, with four
    Pettiangurs; and, next day, my dear friend, Mr. C. Wesley,
    with another, wherein were all the married men and women, and
    children, that came over in our two ships. Mr. Oglethorpe
    immediately laid out the new town, Frederica, in a neat and
    regular method; and kept the people to strict work in building
    themselves palmetto houses. During the three weeks longer,
    which I spent here, there happened such a variety of incidents,
    that, it would be too tedious to relate them. Only I will add,
    that, Mr. C. Wesley and I had the happiness of undergoing,
    for the truth’s sake, the most glorious trial of our whole
    lives, wherein God enabled us exceedingly to rejoice, and also
    to behave ourselves throughout with undaunted courage and
    constancy; for which may we ever love and adore Him! The book
    of God was our support, wherein, as our necessities required,
    we always met with direction, exhortation, and comfort—‘Thy
    Word is a lantern to my feet, and a light unto my paths. In
    God’s Word will I comfort me.’[63]

    “_Sunday_, March 28. About seven in the evening, I left
    Frederica, and took boat for Savannah. We had a fair wind;
    and, if we had not run twice aground, I believe we should have
    got thither in twenty-four hours. Towards four on Tuesday
    morning, it began to thunder, and lighten, and rain in the
    most dreadful manner I ever beheld since I was born. Ours was
    a little open boat, without any cover. The rest of the people
    wrapped themselves up, head and ears, in blankets and sails,
    whatever they could get, and laid down in the bottom of it. I
    plucked up a good heart, threw my cloak over me, and stood up,
    as stiff as I could, in the midst of it, that I might behold
    the majesty of God in thunder; and, truly, so glorious a scene
    I never saw. I dare not attempt to describe. However, I passed
    the time very comfortably in praising God; and, whereas, all
    the rest were well wet, I was pure and dry all over, excepting
    only my cloak and shoes. Betwixt seven and eight, we arrived
    at Savannah, where I was kindly received by Mr. John Wesley
    and Mr. Delamotte. The latter had began to teach a few little
    orphans; and the former had brought the people to short prayers
    morning and night I now again entered upon a manner of life
    more agreeable to me than what I spent at Frederica, having
    both time and convenience for regular retirement.

    “_Sunday_, April 4. This afternoon, Mr. Wesley and Mr.
    Delamotte, took boat for Frederica. In their absence, I took
    care both of the church and school.

    “_Monday_, April 5. After evening prayers, I begun to
    catechize, at our own house, all young persons that were
    willing to come, as well children as servants, and apprentices,
    who would not come in the day time. I have continued to do this
    every night since. On Sundays, I do it after dinner, and also
    publicly in the church after the Second Lesson.

    “_Sunday_, April 11. After evening service, I made a visit to a
    few people, who had formed themselves into a Society,—meeting
    together on Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday nights. I found their
    design was good. They read, prayed, and sung psalms together.
    Accordingly, I exhorted them to go on, promising myself to meet
    with them sometimes, and to give them such helps and directions
    as I could. I have joined them every Sunday since; and I hope
    it will be a means of some good. God grant it!

    “_Sunday_, April 18. This afternoon, there was an alarm made
    in time of Divine service, whereupon, several people went out
    of church. The cause of it was a young lad that had run away
    from his master. He had broken into our house, under which,
    he said, he had laid a fortnight, and stolen provisions when
    I was at prayers. He had taken down a pistol, and loaded it,
    with a design, I suppose, to shoot in the woods; for he had
    gotten the powder flask, and, as he was getting out of the
    window, somehow, he slipped, and fired off the pistol, which
    broke his arm to shivers. He then called out aloud for help;
    whereupon, some people that heard, went to see what was the
    matter. He begged of them to drag him out at the window, which
    they did, and found him in a bad condition. They carried him to
    a surgeon, who cut off his arm. In the night, not having due
    attendance, he loosed it, whereby, he lost so much blood, that,
    he died next morning. I was very sorry for the unfortunate
    wretch, for he came to be catechized the night before he run
    away, and I, being informed that he had done so several times
    before, talked to him a good while, to behave himself well,
    and to obey his master. But, not having grace, he did the very
    reverse to what I exhorted him. A sad example, whereby others
    ought to take warning.

    “This being the great and holy week, I dedicated it to
    devotion, observing the discipline of the Primitive Church.

    “On Tuesday evening, Mr. John Wesley and Mr. Delamotte arrived
    from Frederica. Next day, Mr. Wesley gave me an account of what
    had passed there since my departure. O what secrets will come
    to pass in the last day!

    “_Easter Sunday_, April 25. We were thirty-four communicants.
    Our constant number is about a dozen. Next day, Mr. Wesley and
    I went up to Cowpen, in a boat, bought for our use, to converse
    with Mrs. Musgrave about learning the Indian language. I
    agreed to teach her children to read, and to make her whatever
    recompence she would require more for her trouble. I am to
    spend three or four days a week with her, and the rest at
    Savannah, in communicating what I have learned to Mr. Wesley;
    because he intends, as yet, wholly to reside there.

    “The Moravians, being informed of our design, desired me to
    teach one of the brethren along with Mr. Wesley. To this I
    consented at once, with my whole heart. And who, think ye, is
    the person intended to learn? Their lawful bishop.[64] ‘The
    right hand of the Lord hath the pre-eminence; the right hand of
    the Lord bringeth mighty things to pass.’

    “_Friday_, April 30. Mr. Wesley and I went up again to Cowpen,
    taking along with us, Toma-Cache and his Queen. Their town is
    about four miles above Savannah, in the way to Mrs. Musgrave’s.
    We told them we were about to learn their language. I asked
    them, if they were willing I should teach the young prince.
    They consented, desiring me to check and keep him in; but not
    to strike him. The Indians never strike their children; neither
    will they suffer any one to do it. I told them, I would do
    my best, as far as gentleness and good advice would go. How
    I shall manage, God alone can direct me. The youth is sadly
    corrupted, and addicted to drunkenness, which he has learnt
    of our Christian heathen. Nay, the whole Creek nation is now
    generally given to this brutal sin, whereto they were utter
    strangers before Christians came among them.

    “Oh! what a work have we before us! Who is sufficient for these
    things? I am nothing. I have nothing. I can do nothing. O! my
    dearest friends, pray for us. Pray earnestly for us; and more
    especially for me, your very weak, though most dutiful son, and
    affectionate brother,

                                                  “BENJAMIN INGHAM.”

This lengthened document needs no apology. It exhibits Ingham as a
sincere, earnest, self-denying, zealous servant of the Divine Redeemer.
It helps to justify the suddenness of his departure from his native
country, without obtaining the consent of his family and friends, and
even without consulting them. It shows, that, he was a firm believer in
the sacred text—“In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct
thy paths.” Who can doubt that Ingham was divinely guided in embarking
for America? The service that he rendered there, might be comparatively
small; but, at that period, it required no ordinary courage, for a young
man of three and twenty, to encounter the storms of the Atlantic, and to
live with wild Indians in the woods of Georgia. The results of Ingham’s
ministerial labours in the new colony might be few; but the mission there
brought him into the society of a set of simple-minded, earnest, godly
men, by whom the current of the whole of his subsequent life was changed;
and the rough experience of the few months spent among colonial settlers
and untutored savages, was a useful training for the hard labours and
hard treatment awaiting him in his native country. If Ingham had not
embarked for Georgia, the probability is, he would not have been brought
into fellowship with Moravians; and, therefore, would not have become
a Moravian Evangelist among the masses of the north of England. The
Providence, which sent him to Georgia, separated him from the Established
Church; but, as in the case of Wesley, it made him the Founder of a large
number of religious societies, which exercised a mighty influence on the
people of Yorkshire, and of the neighbouring counties.

As yet, Ingham, like the Wesleys, was seeking to be saved by works,
rather than by penitent faith in Christ Jesus; but the very fact that
he hoped to be saved thus, served as an incentive to the practice of
self-denial and other austerities, and to the use of diligence and
faithfulness in his ministerial office which have seldom been surpassed.
The man had a large heart, brim-full of benevolent feeling; and regarded
it as the highest honour and happiness of his life to be of service to
the cause of God, and to the welfare of his fellow-creatures. Without
doubt, he was what would be called a high churchman when he set sail for
Georgia; but his sympathies were too large to be ice bound with high
church bigotry. His description of the twenty-six psalm-singing Moravians
is just and generous. He was willing to admit the fact, and to rejoice
in it, that there were as good Christians without the pale of his own
Church, as there were within it. Like all men of noble mind, he was
not too much a man to bend to a little child. Teaching and catechizing
children was a self-imposed, but happy task, while on the waves of
the Atlantic Ocean; and it was equally one of his pleasant toils in
Georgia. Idleness and he were strangers to each other. Early rising,
abstemious diet, and constant working, were, with him, not accidents,
but principles. They were part and parcel of his religion. The Bible was
his daily study; and prayer, for himself, and for others, his highest
privilege and duty. The two combined inspired him with a confidence
in God, which never faltered; and which kept him calm in the greatest
dangers. Let us follow him.

Ingham landed in Georgia, on February 5, 1736: he re-embarked for England
on February 26, 1737. Nearly three of the thirteen months he spent in
Georgia, are comprehended in the Journal already given. The details of
the other ten are few and scanty.

Both he and Wesley intended and wished to be, not chaplains among the
English colonists, but, missionaries among the wild Indians; and,
accordingly, at the end of the first three months of their Georgian
residence, we find Ingham arranging to spend three days a week in
learning the Indian language from a half-caste woman; and the other three
in teaching what he learnt to Wesley, and to Nitschmann, the Moravian
bishop. Their design was Christian and heroic; but it was not realised.

On May 16, 1736, Charles Wesley, unexpectedly, came to his brother,
and Ingham, and Delamotte, at Savannah; and, for want of better
accommodation, each of the four “retired to his respective corner of the
room, where, without the help of a bed, they all slept soundly till the
morning.”[65] Charles had now left Frederica for ever; and, ten weeks
later, he embarked for England.

Frederica was left without a minister; and it was agreed, that, Wesley
and Ingham should take Charles’s place in turns. Wesley went off at
once; and remained at Frederica till June 23rd. He and Ingham now hoped
to obtain permission to live among the Choctaw Indians; but Oglethorpe
objected; first, on the ground, that, they would be in danger of being
intercepted or killed by the French; and, secondly, because it was
inexpedient to leave Savannah without a pastor. This induced them to
remain where they were; but, in the meantime, they had a most interesting
interview with a number of Chicasaw Indians, the details of which,
Wesley has related in his Journal.

On August 4, Wesley again went to Frederica, leaving Savannah to the care
of Ingham and Delamotte; and thus things continued till February, 1737;
Wesley and Ingham ardently wishing to proceed as missionaries among the
Indians; but not able to fulfil their wish, because there was no minister
to occupy their places at Savannah and Frederica.

Ingham had been an apt and diligent pupil of Mrs. Musgrave’s; and
had formed a vocabulary of about one half of the words in the Indian
language; but, unless Savannah and Frederica could be supplied by other
ministers, all his fagging to acquire this barbarous language was likely
to be useless. What was done? The following is an extract from a letter,
addressed to Mr. ⸺, in Lincoln College, Oxon.

                                     “SAVANNAH, _February 16, 1737_.

    “DEAR SIR,—Mr. Ingham has left Savannah for some months; and
    lives at a house built for him a few miles off, near the
    Indian town.[66] So that I have now no fellow-labourer but Mr.
    Delamotte, who has taken charge of between thirty and forty
    children. There is, therefore, great need, that God should put
    it into the hearts of some, to come over to us and labour with
    us in His harvest. But I should not desire any to come unless
    on the same views and conditions with us,—without any temporal
    wages, other than food and raiment, the plain conveniences of
    life. And for one or more in whom was this mind, there would
    be full employment in the province; either in assisting Mr.
    Delamotte or me, while we were present here; or in supplying
    our places when abroad; or in visiting the poor people, in the
    smaller settlements, as well as at Frederica; all of whom are
    as sheep without a shepherd.

    “By these labours of love, might any, that desired it, be
    trained up for the harder task of preaching the Gospel to the
    heathen. The difficulties he must then encounter God only
    knows; probably martyrdom would conclude them. But those we
    have hitherto met with have been small, and only terrible at
    a distance. Persecution, you know, is the portion of every
    follower of Christ, wherever his lot is cast. But it has
    hitherto extended no farther than words with regard to us,
    unless in one or two inconsiderable instances. Yet, it is
    sure, every man ought, if he would come hither, be willing and
    ready to embrace (if God should see them good) the severer
    kinds of it He ought to be determined, not only to leave
    parents, sisters, friends, houses, and lands, for his Master’s
    sake, but to take up his cross too; cheerfully submit to the
    fatigue and danger of (it may be) a long voyage, and patiently
    to endure the continual contradiction of sinners and all the
    inconveniences which it often occasions.

    “Would any one have a trial of himself, how he can bear this?
    If he has felt what reproach is, and can bear that but a few
    weeks, as he ought, I shall believe he need fear nothing.
    Other trials will afterwards be no heavier than that little
    one was at first; so that he may then have a well-grounded
    hope, that he will be enabled to do all things through Christ
    strengthening him.

    “May the God of peace Himself direct you to all things
    conducive to His glory, whether it be by fitter instruments, or
    even by your own friend and servant in Christ,

                                                  “JOHN WESLEY.”[67]

Wesley’s standard of a Christian missionary was enough to appal ordinary
men; but who will say that the standard was too high? He himself and
also his friend Ingham answered to this description; but it was doubtful
whether others could be found, among their old associates, who were
like-minded. Accordingly, ten days after the date of the above letter,
another step was taken. Wesley writes:—

    “1737. February 24. It was agreed Mr. Ingham should go for
    England, and endeavour to bring over, if it should please God,
    some of our friends, to strengthen our hands in this work.
    February 26. He left Savannah.”

The Oxford Methodists were scattered when Ingham arrived in England;
but they were still a loving and confiding brotherhood. In July,
1737, Charles Wesley and James Hutton spent some days at Oxford; and,
accompanied by Mr. Morgan and Mr. Kinchin, set out, on the 29th of that
month, for London, where, at the house of Hutton’s father, in College
Street, Westminster, they found their “old, hearty friend, Benjamin
Ingham.”[68] The last mentioned also visited the Delamotte family at
Blendon. Hence, under the date of September 10, 1737, C. Wesley writes:—

    “I took coach for Blendon. My friend, Benjamin, had been there
    before me, and met with such a reception as encouraged me to
    follow. He had preached to them with power, and still more
    powerfully by his life and conversation. The eldest sister,
    and the Cambridge scholar,[69] were struck to the heart.
    The first evening passed in discourse of my namesake[70] in
    America.”

Immediately after this, Ingham was at his own home, in Yorkshire. No
more faithful and honest friend existed; but, like many Yorkshiremen, he
was sometimes almost blunt. The following letter, addressed to Wesley,
in Georgia, supplies evidence of this, and also contains references to
Wesley and the Oxford Methodists, of considerable interest:—

                                     “OSSET, _October 19, 1737_.[71]

    “DEAR BROTHER,—By your silence, one would suspect that you were
    offended at my last letter. Am I your enemy because I tell you
    the truth? But perhaps I was too severe. Forgive me then. Be
    lowly in your own eyes. Humble yourself before the Lord, and
    He will lift you up. I do assure you, it is out of pure love,
    and with concern that I write. I earnestly wish your soul’s
    welfare. O pray for mine also. The Lord preserve you!

    “Could you, think you, live upon the income of your fellowship?
    If you can, do. The trustees are, indeed, very willing to
    support you, and they would take it ill should anybody say
    that you have been too expensive. But the Bishop of London,
    as I have heard, and some others, have been offended at the
    expenses, and not altogether without reason, because you
    declared, at your leaving England, you should want scarce
    anything. I just give you these hints. Pray for direction, and
    then act as you judge best.[72]

    “Charles is so reserved; I know little about him. He neither
    writes to me, nor comes to see me. What he intends is best
    known to himself. Mr. Hutton’s family go on exceedingly well.
    Your friend Mr. Morgan, I hear, either has, or, is about
    publishing a book, to prove that every one baptized with
    water is regenerate. All friends at Oxford go on well. Mr.
    Kinchin, Mr. Hutchins, Mr. Washington, Bell, Hervey, Watson,
    are all zealous. Mr. Atkinson labours under severe trials in
    Westmoreland, but is steady and sincere, and an excellent
    Christian. Dick Smith is weak, but not utterly gone. Mr. Robson
    and Grieves are but indifferent. The latter is married to a
    widow, and teaching a school at Northampton. Mr. Thompson, of
    Queen’s, has declared his resolution of following Christ.

    “Remember me to Mr. Wallis, Mark Hird, and the Davison family,
    Mrs. Gilbert Mears, Mr. Campbell, Mr. and Mrs. Burnside, Mr.
    and Mrs. Williamson.

                           “Yours in Christ,

                                                        “B. INGHAM.”

Ingham still purposed to return to Georgia. He longed to preach the
gospel of his Saviour to the heathen, and was busily employed in
mastering their language. He sought spiritual fellowship among his
Christian friends in Yorkshire; and, as opportunity offered, occupied the
pulpit of the Established Church. His preaching created great sensation;
and his private labours, among his neighbours, were not without results.
A man with a soul like his,—burning with a zeal which would have led him
gladly to sacrifice his life among the wild Indians of America,—could
scarcely fail to be an earnest, successful evangelist in his own country.
As already stated, his intention to return to Georgia was not fulfilled.
Perhaps Wesley’s departure from that colony, about six weeks after the
date of the above letter, was one of the things which prevented it. Be
that as it might, he was quite prepared for hard work, and for rough
usage, in other places.

In the letter just given, he complains of the silence and reserve of
Charles Wesley. At the very time, however, Charles was writing to him;
and, three days afterwards, Ingham addressed to him the following reply,
full of the Christian fire of the first Methodists:—

                         “OSSET, NEAR WAKEFIELD, _October 22, 1737_.

    “MY DEAR BROTHER,—Your letter is just come to my hands. I
    rejoiced over it, because it came from you. I was afraid you
    had been almost lost; but, since I see you are desirous to make
    full proof of your ministry, I greatly rejoice. Blessed be the
    Lord, who, by His grace, preserves me from falling, amidst the
    deceitful and alluring, bewildering temptations of worldly
    preferment. May He still continue His loving-kindness towards
    you! May He thoroughly settle and establish you! May you have
    power to overcome the world, the flesh, and the devil, and,
    like a brave soldier, manfully to fight under Christ’s banner!
    May your one desire of living be for Christ’s sake, and the
    gospel!

    “I have no other thoughts but of returning to America. When the
    time comes, I trust the Lord will show me. My heart’s desire
    is, that the Indians may hear the gospel. For this I pray both
    night and day.

    “I will transcribe the Indian words as fast as I can. I writ to
    Mr. William Delamotte three weeks ago. If he did not receive
    the letter, it miscarried. I wish you could inform me, that I
    might write again.

    “I have just now been talking to Mr. Godly, curate of Osset.
    (You know, I believe, that he is misnamed.) I was all on a
    tremble while I talked to him, and for a good while after. He
    took my reproof very uneasily. But, however, he trembled as
    well as me. I have lent him ‘The Country Parson’ to read; and,
    since he went away, I have been praying for him in agony. I
    seem to be full of hope, as if God would turn his heart; and O
    that He may! One of the wickedest women in all Osset is turned
    since I came down; and, I believe, she will make a thorough
    convert. She says, she is sure God sent me to turn her heart.
    To His holy name be all the glory! There is another poor soul
    too here, that is under the most severe agonies of repentance.
    Cease not to pray for these, and the rest of your Christian
    friends at Osset, who pray constantly for you.

    “Last Sunday, I preached such a sermon at Wakefield church as
    has set almost all about us in a uproar. Some say, the devil is
    in me; others, that I am mad. Others say, no man can live up to
    such doctrine; and they never heard such before. Others, again,
    extol me to the sky. They say, it was the best sermon they ever
    heard in all their life; and that I ought to be a bishop.

    “I believe, indeed, it went to the hearts of several persons;
    for I was enabled to speak with great authority and power;
    and I preached almost the whole sermon without book. There
    was a vast large congregation, and tears fell from many eyes.
    To-morrow, I preach there again.

    “Every day, I undergo several changes within me. Now I am
    under sufferings, sometimes just ready to sink; then again
    I am filled with joy. Indeed, I receive so much pleasure in
    conversing with some Christians here, that I have need of
    sufferings to counterbalance it. Last Saturday night, we were
    sixteen that sat up till after twelve. We have to meet again
    to-night, after the rest are gone; and we shall pray for you,
    and the rest of our Christian friends everywhere. You would
    think yourself happy to be but one night with us.

    “Give my sincere love to Mr. Hutton’s family, whom I never
    forget. Are they all well? The Lord bless them all! Greet
    brother Whitefield. My heart will be with you on the seas, and
    everywhere. Never be discouraged.

                  “Yours sincerely and affectionately,

                                                    “B. INGHAM.”[73]

On May 24, 1738, Wesley, by simple “trust in Christ alone for salvation,”
received “an assurance that Christ had taken away his sins.” This,
to him, was a new experience; but, perhaps, not to Ingham. It is a
well-known fact, that, Peter Böhler, who was now on his way to the
Moravians in Georgia, was of the utmost service to Wesley in teaching
him the doctrine of justification by faith only. Besides this, both
Wesley and Ingham had been brought into close communion with the Moravian
bishop, David Nitschmann, and his Christian fraternity, during their
voyage across the Atlantic. In Georgia, also, they had met with the
Moravian elder, the Rev. August Gottlieb Spangenberg, a man of high
position among the Brethren. The result of the whole was, that Wesley
and Ingham, on June 13, 1738, embarked for Germany, principally for the
purpose of becoming better acquainted with the Moravian churches in that
country.

They were accompanied by John Toltschig,[74] one of the fugitives, who
fled to Hernhuth, from the fierce persecution in Moravia, in 1724; who
became one of Ingham’s co-evangelists in the county of York; and was a
man of great influence among the English Moravians. At Ysselstein, they
had an interview with Baron Watteville, who had been a fellow student of
Count Zinzendorf, and became a Moravian bishop. On the 4th July, they
reached Marienborn, the residence of Zinzendorf, where they remained a
fortnight. Whilst here, Ingham, in a letter to Sir John Thorold,[75]
London, observed:—

    “The worthy count is occupied day and night in the work of the
    Lord; and, I must confess, that the Lord is really among the
    Brethren. Yesterday, a boy of eleven or twelve years of age
    was baptized; and such a movement of the Holy Spirit pervaded
    the whole assembly, as I have never seen at any baptism. I
    felt that my heart burned within me, and I could not refrain
    from tears. I saw that others felt as I did, and the whole
    congregation was moved. The Brethren have shown me much
    affection; they have taken me to their conferences, and have
    not left me in ignorance of anything concerning their Church. I
    am much pleased with my journey.”

Ingham was pleased with the Moravians; and the Moravians were pleased
with him. In fact, Ingham was preferred to Wesley, and was admitted to
partake of the holy communion, while Wesley was rejected. The reasons
assigned for admitting Ingham were, (1) that he had already shown an
inclination to leave the English Established Church, and to join the
Brethren; and (2), “that his heart was better than his head.” The reasons
for rejecting Wesley were, (1) he was “_homo perturbatus_; (2) his head
had gained an ascendency over his heart; (3) he claimed to be a zealous
English Churchman, and they were not desirous to interfere with his plan
of effecting good as a clergyman of the English Church.”[76]

Ingham, as well as Wesley, visited Hernhuth, where he spent a fortnight,
and was “exceedingly strengthened and comforted by the services and
conversation of the Brethren. Towards the end of the year, he returned to
England.”

It is a curious fact that Wesley and Ingham were not the only Oxford
Methodists who began to associate with the Moravians. On the first
day of the year 1739, we find not fewer than seven of the Oxford
brotherhood—the two Wesleys, Ingham, Whitefield, Westley Hall, Kinchin,
and Hutchins,—present at a Moravian lovefeast in Fetter Lane, respecting
which Wesley writes:—

    “About three in the morning, as we were continuing instant
    in prayer, the power of God came mightily upon us, insomuch
    that many cried out for exceeding joy, and many fell to the
    ground. As soon as we were recovered a little from the awe and
    amazement at the presence of His Majesty, we broke out with one
    voice, ‘We praise Thee, O God; we acknowledge Thee to be the
    Lord.’”[77]

This was a memorable beginning of what will ever be a memorable year in
the history of the Methodistic movement.

Four days afterwards, the same clergymen, joined by Mr. Seward, had a
conference at Islington, and, without effect, tried to prevail on Charles
Wesley to settle at Oxford. Whitefield writes:—

    “We continued in fasting and prayer till three o’clock, and
    then parted, with a full conviction that God was about to do
    great things among us. O that we may be any way instrumental to
    His glory! O that He would make us vessels pure and holy, meet
    for such a dear Master’s use!”[78]

The men evidently were willing to be used in any way which Providence
might appoint; and their conviction of the coming of great events was not
falsified.

On Ingham’s return to Osset, his native place, he renewed his labours,
and preached in most of the churches and chapels about Wakefield, Leeds,
and Halifax. Private religious meetings also were greatly multiplied.
Large numbers of persons were convinced of sin, and were converted.
It was pre-eminently a day of divine visitation. The clergy, however,
instead of rejoicing at an enlargement of the work of God, were envious
and malignant; and, at a Church congress, held at Wakefield, June 6,
1739, Ingham was prohibited from preaching in any of the churches in the
diocese of York; and was thus placed in the same position as Wesley had
been compelled to occupy in London. Both were ordained clergymen, and
both longed to preach the gospel of God their Saviour; but both were
without a church of their own, and both were now uniformly shut out of
the churches of others. What Wesley began to do at Bristol, Kingswood,
and elsewhere, Ingham began to do in Yorkshire. Village greens, the
public streets, fields, barns, cottages, and houses of all descriptions
became his preaching places; and, such was the divine power which
attended his ministry, that not fewer than forty religious societies were
formed.

Ingham was reviled, but he reviled not again. The following letter
illustrates his fine Christian spirit, at the period of which we are
now writing. It probably was addressed to Wesley. At all events, Wesley
published it in the first volume of his _Arminian Magazine_ (p. 181).

                                           “OSSET, _Sept. 14, 1739_.

    “MY DEAR BROTHER,—Wait the Lord’s leisure, and be still. His
    time is the best time. ‘Be strong, and He shall comfort thine
    heart; and put thou thy trust in the Lord.’

    “I shall be very glad to see you, when the Lord pleases that
    we shall meet together. O that we may do and suffer His will
    in all things! It is following our own wills that creates us
    trouble and confusion.

    “All your opposition will work together for good. The more
    the clergy oppose the truth, the more it will prevail. Their
    preaching against us and our doctrines excites a curiosity in
    the people to hear us, and to see if these things be true,
    whereby many have their eyes opened. If this work is of God, it
    cannot be overthrown: if it be of men, I wish it may speedily.
    We have nothing to do but to follow our Leader. O that He may
    direct all our ways aright!

    “I say very little about the clergy in public. I preach the
    truth of the gospel, according to the light the Lord has given
    me into it, and leave it to the Lord to bless it as He pleases.
    I take no notice of lies and calumnies, unless I am asked
    whether or no they are true. It is endless to answer all that
    is said. Our Saviour says, ‘Let them alone.’ He is concerned
    for the welfare of His Church; let us, therefore, depend upon
    Him, and let us mind what He says to us in His holy word. Let
    us love our enemies, and pray for them; and let us love one
    another; and thereby shall all men know that we are His true
    disciples. We must be hated in this world; let us, therefore,
    take great care to secure ourselves an inheritance in the next.

                                                  “BENJAMIN INGHAM.”

While the above exhibits Ingham’s spirit, the subjoined clearly shows
that his ideas on the Methodist doctrines were as yet imperfect. It
is a well-known fact, that Wesley himself was sorely perplexed with
the doctrine of what is called “the witness of the Spirit,” and that
his intercourse with the Moravians rather increased his mistiness
than scattered it. In 1738 he had a lengthened and very important
correspondence with his brother Samuel on the subject; and now he
consulted Ingham, who replied as follows:—

                                        “OSSET, _February 20, 1740_.

    “MY DEAR BROTHER,—The most dangerous time in the Christian
    race, seems to be when a person receives the forgiveness of
    sins, especially if he is filled with great joy, and of long
    continuance. Indeed, all states of great joy are dangerous,
    if not humbly received. If persons have not now a guide, or
    are not guidable, it is ten to one but they run into error
    and by-paths. Many souls miscarry here, and never get further
    in their spiritual progress. They run on till their joy and
    strength are spent, and then they lose themselves, and are all
    in confusion. I have met with several persons with whom it has
    been thus, and how to help them I know not. They do not get
    forward. I believe, indeed, that they will be saved, yet their
    degree in glory will be low. They are but in the first stage of
    the new birth.

    “You ask, What are the marks of a person who is justified, and
    not sealed?[79]

    “I cannot give you any certain, infallible marks; but a person
    to whom the Lord has given the gift of discerning will tell;
    and, without the gift, we shall never be able to know surely.
    However, such persons are meek, simple, and childlike; they
    have doubts and fears within; they are in a wilderness state.
    In this state, they are to be kept still and quiet; to search
    more deeply into their hearts, so that they become more and
    more poor in spirit, or humble. They are likewise now taught
    to depend wholly on Christ. By all means, keep them from
    confusion. If they come into confusion (as they are apt to do),
    they receive inconceivable damage; but, if they continue still
    meek and gentle, searching into their hearts, and depending
    upon Christ, they will find their hearts to be sweetly drawn
    after Christ; they will begin to loathe and abhor sin, and to
    hunger and thirst after righteousness; they will get strength
    daily; Christ will begin to manifest Himself by degrees; the
    darkness will vanish, and the day-star will arise in their
    hearts. Thus they go on from strength to strength, till they
    become strong, and then they will begin to see things clearly,
    and to understand what the Lord has done for them; so, by
    degrees, they will come to have the assurance of faith.

    “You ask whether, in this intermediate state, they are
    ‘children of wrath, or heirs of the promises’?

    “Without doubt, they are children of God; they are in a state
    of salvation. A child may be heir to an estate before it
    can speak, or know what an estate is; so we may be heirs of
    heaven before we know it, or are made sure of it. However, the
    assurance of faith is to be sought after. It may be attained;
    it will be given to all who go forward. We must first be humble
    and poor in spirit. We must be deeply so. We must have a
    constant, fixed, abiding feeling,—a sense of our weakness and
    unworthiness, corruption, sin, and misery. This it is to be a
    _poor sinner_.

    “If I were with you, I would explain things more largely; but
    I am a novice,—I am but a beginner,—a babe in Christ. If you
    go amongst the Brethren, they are good guides; but yet, after
    all, we must be taught of God, and have experience in our own
    hearts; or else it will not do. May the Spirit of truth lead us
    into all truth!

                   “I am your poor, unworthy brother,

                                                        “B. INGHAM.”

The above is given _verbatim_ from the manuscript letter, and is of
great importance as revealing the views, doubts, and difficulties of the
leaders of the Methodist movement.

Before proceeding further, it may be added that Ingham was not forgotten
by his old friend Whitefield, who wrote to him as follows:—

                                        “SAVANNAH, _March 28, 1740_.

    “How glad I should be of a letter from dear brother Ingham.
    When shall my soul be refreshed, with hearing that the work of
    the Lord prospers in his hand? I suppose before now you have
    received my letters and seen my journal. I believe God is yet
    preparing great things for us. Many at Charles-Town lately
    were brought to see their want of Jesus Christ. The Orphan
    House goes on bravely. I have forty children to maintain,
    besides workmen and their assistants. The great Householder
    of the world does, and will, I am persuaded, richly provide
    for us all. The colony itself is in a very declining way; but
    our extremity is God’s opportunity. Our brethren, I trust,
    go forwards in the spiritual life. I have often great inward
    trials. I believe it to be God’s will that I should marry. One,
    who may be looked upon as a superior, is absolutely necessary
    for the due management of affairs. However, I pray God, that I
    may not have a wife, till I can live as though I had none. You
    may communicate this to some of our intimates; for I would call
    Christ and His disciples to the marriage. If I am deluded, pray
    that God would reveal it to your most affectionate brother and
    servant,

                                                “GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

In the midst of all this, a new evangelist sprang up, who, without the
educational advantages of the Oxford Methodists, had a kindred soul.

John Nelson, the brave-hearted Yorkshire stonemason, after hearing almost
all sorts of religionists,—Church of England men, Dissenters, Papists,
and Quakers,—had been brought to a knowledge of the truth by Wesley.
This was under the first sermon preached by Wesley in Moorfields. In
1740, Nelson returned to Yorkshire, and related to his friends his happy
experience. He writes:—

    “They begged I would not tell any one that my sins were
    forgiven, for no one would believe me, and they should be
    ashamed to show their faces in the street. I answered, ‘I shall
    not be ashamed to tell what God has done for my soul, if I
    could speak loud enough for all the men in the world to hear
    me at once.’ My mother said, ‘Your head is turned.’ I replied,
    ‘Yes, and my heart too, I thank the Lord.’”

He went to Adwalton, to hear Ingham preach; and remarked:—

    “As soon as I got into the house, he called me into the
    parlour, and desired the company that was with him to go out,
    for he had something to say to me. When they went, he rose up,
    barred the door, then sat down, and asked me, ‘Do you know
    your own heart, think you?’ I answered, ‘Not rightly; but
    I know Jesus Christ, and He knows and has taken possession
    of it; and though it be deceitful, yet He can subdue it to
    Himself; and I trust He will’. He said, ‘Have you not deceived
    yourself with thinking that your sins are forgiven, and that
    you are in a state of grace? I was three years seeking before
    I found Him.’ I replied, ‘Suppose you were, do you confine
    God to be three years in converting every soul, because you
    were so long? God is able to convert a soul in three days now,
    as He was to convert St. Paul seventeen hundred years ago.’
    I then began to tell him what I had seen at London under Mr.
    Wesley’s preaching. He said he pitied poor Mr. Wesley, for he
    was ignorant of his own state; and he spoke as if he believed
    Mr. Wesley to be an unconverted man; at which words my corrupt
    nature began to stir. But it came to my mind, ‘The wrath of
    man worketh not the righteousness of God’; and I lifted up
    my heart to the Lord, and my mind was calmed in a moment. He
    said, ‘You ought not to tell people that they may know their
    sins forgiven, for the world cannot bear it; and if such a
    thing were preached, it would raise persecution.’ I replied,
    ‘Let them quake that fear. By the grace of God, I love every
    man, but fear no man; and I will tell all I can, that there
    is such a prize to run for. If I hide it, mischief will come
    upon me. There is a famine in the land; and I see myself in
    the case of the lepers that were at the gate of Samaria, who
    found provisions in the enemy’s camp; and, when they had eat
    and drank, and loaded themselves, said, “We do not well; for
    this is a day of glad tidings, let us go and make it known to
    the king’s household.” When I found God’s wrath removed, for
    the sake of His dear Son, I saw provision enough for my poor
    fainting soul, and for all the world if they would come for it.
    I believe it is a sin not to declare to the children of men
    what God has done for my soul, that they may seek for the same
    mercy.’ He told me, I had nothing to do with the Old Testament,
    or to make comparisons from anything in it. I answered, ‘I have
    as much to do with it as with the New Testament.’ He replied,
    ‘I would not have you speak any more to the people till you are
    better acquainted with your own heart.’ I told him, I would
    not in his societies, unless I was desired; but what I did in
    my own house, or any other person’s that requested me, he had
    no business with. I added, ‘I do not belong to you; and though
    I have heard you several times, it is no benefit to me; for I
    have experienced more of the grace of God than ever I heard you
    preach of it, or any one else since I left London.’”

Nelson here obviously refers to his enjoyment of the Holy Spirit’s
witness to the fact that his sins were pardoned; and hence he continues,—

    “Soon after Mr. Ingham came out and began to preach; when I
    was greatly surprised; for what he had forbidden me to do, he
    himself did directly; for he told the people, that night, they
    must know their sins forgiven in this world or go to hell.”[80]

Soon after this, Ingham went to London, where the Wesleys were in
painful conflict with the Moravians. Philip Henry Molther, who had been
the private tutor of Zinzendorf’s only son, was preaching, to large
congregations, four times every week, and was much more popular than his
talents or his misty doctrines merited. The chief controversy between
him and Wesley was concerning the use of the means of grace. Molther
recommended penitent inquirers to “_be still_;” that is, not to search
the Scriptures, not to pray, not to communicate, not to do good; for it
was impossible to use means, without trusting in them. Wesley, on the
other hand, recommended and enforced just the opposite. The contention
among their partisans was fierce and furious; and the object of Ingham’s
visit to the metropolis seems to have been to reconcile the irritated
disputants. Charles Wesley writes:—

    “1740. May 22.—I found our dear brother Ingham at Mr. West’s.
    The holiday mob were very outrageous at the Foundery. God
    filled my mouth with threatenings and promises; and, at last,
    we got the victory, and the fiercest rioters were overawed into
    silence.

    “May 25.—At the lovefeast, I was overwhelmed with the burden
    of our brethren, with such visible signs of dejection, that
    several, I was since informed, were in great hopes that I
    was now coming down in my pride, or unsettling, and coming
    into confusion. Indeed, my faith did well-nigh fail me; for
    in spite of the seeming reconciliation which brother Ingham
    _forces_ them into, it is impossible we should ever be of one
    mind, unless they are convinced of their abrogating the law of
    _Christian_ ordinances, and taking away the children’s bread.

    “May 27.—I rejoiced to find no difference betwixt my brother
    Ingham and me. He has honestly withstood the deluded brethren;
    contradicted their favourite errors, and constrained them to be
    _still_. That blot he easily hit: ‘You say no man must speak of
    what he has not experienced; you, Oxley and Simpson, say that
    one in the Gospel-liberty can have no stirrings of sin.’ ‘Yes.’
    ‘Are you in Gospel-liberty?’ ‘No.’ ‘Then out of your own mouth
    I judge you: you speak of things which you know not of.’

    “June 2.—I _preached up_ the ordinances, as they call it, from
    Isaiah lviii.; but first, with the prophet, I preached them
    _down_. Telchig” [Toltschig], “Ingham, etc., were present,
    which made me use greater plainness, that they might set me
    right, if I mistook.

    “June 11.—I returned” [from the Delamotte family at Blendon]
    “to be exercised by our _still_ brethren’s contradiction.
    My brother proposed new-modelling the bands, and setting by
    themselves those few who were still for the ordinances. Great
    clamour was raised by this proposal. The noisy _still_ ones
    well knew that they had carried their point by wearying out
    the sincere ones scattered among them; so that a remnant is
    scarcely left. They grudged us even this remnant, which would
    soon be all their own, unless immediately rescued out of their
    hands. Benjamin Ingham seconded us, and obtained that the names
    should be called over, and as many as were aggrieved put into
    new books.

    “We gathered up our wreck,—_raros nantes in gurgite vasto_;
    for nine out of ten are swallowed up in the dead sea of
    _stillness_. O, why was not this done six months ago? How
    fatal was our delay and moderation! ‘Let them alone, and they
    will soon be weary, and come to themselves of course,’ said
    one,—_unus qui nobis cunctando restituet rem!_ I tremble at the
    consequence. Will they submit themselves to every ordinance of
    man, who refuse subjection to the ordinances of God? I told
    them plainly, _I should only continue with them so long as they
    continued in the Church of England._ My every word was grievous
    to them. I am a thorn in their sides, and they cannot bear me.

    “They _modestly_ denied that we had any but hearsay proof
    of their denying the ordinances. I asked them all and every
    one, particularly Bray, Bell, etc., whether they would now
    acknowledge them to be commands or duties; whether they sinned
    in omitting them; whether they did not leave it to every
    man’s fancy to use them or not; whether they did not exclude
    all from the Lord’s table, except those whom _they_ called
    believers. These questions I put too close to be evaded;
    though better dodgers never came out of the school of Loyola.
    Honest Bell and some others spoke out, and insisted upon their
    antichristian liberty. The rest put by their stillness, and
    delivered me over to Satan for a blasphemer, a very Saul (for
    to him they compare me), out of blind zeal persecuting the
    Church of Christ.”[81]

Ingham continued among these angry people a week longer, when John Wesley
wrote:—

    “1740. June 18.—I went to our own society, of Fetter Lane,
    before whom Mr. Ingham (being to leave London on the morrow)
    bore a noble testimony for the ordinances of God, and the
    reality of weak faith.[82] But the short answer was, ‘You are
    blind, and speak of the things you know not.’”[83]

Matters now reached a crisis. For about two years, Wesley had been a sort
of member and minister of the Moravian Society in Fetter Lane. Five weeks
after this, by a vote of the Brethren, Wesley was expelled; and Molther,
his rival, was left in full possession. Those who sympathised with Wesley
were, in number, about twenty-five men and fifty women, all of whom
seceded with him, and, on July 23rd, 1740, met, for the first time, at
the Foundery, instead of at Fetter Lane; and thus the _Methodist_ Society
was founded.

Whitefield was in America; but, in the midst of these wretched squabbles,
wrote to Ingham the following Calvinistic, and not too luminous epistle:—

                                    “BOSTON, _September 26th, 1740_.

    “MY DEAR BROTHER INGHAM,—I thank you for your kind letter. It
    is the first I have received from you since I left England.
    I bless God, that the work goes on in Yorkshire. May our
    glorious, sin-forgiving Lord, bless you and your spiritual
    children more and more!

    “I find our friends are got into disputing one with another.
    O, that the God of peace may put a stop to it! I wish many
    may not be building on a false foundation, and resting in a
    false peace. They own _free justification_, and yet seem to
    think that their continuance in a justified state depends on
    their doings and their wills. This, I think, is establishing
    a righteousness of our own. My dear brother, if we search the
    Scriptures, we shall find that the word _justified_ implies,
    not only pardon of sin, but also all its consequences.
    ‘Thus,’ says St. Paul, ‘those whom He justified, them He also
    glorified;’ so that, if a man was once justified, he remains
    so to all eternity. There lies the anchor of all my hopes,—our
    Lord having once loved me, He will love me to the end. This
    fills me with joy unspeakable and full of glory. I now walk by
    faith. I work not to keep myself in a justified state, (for men
    nor devils can pluck me out of Christ’s hands,) but to express
    my love and gratitude for what Jesus hath done for my soul.
    This, I think, is what the apostle calls, ‘faith working by
    love.’

    “My dear brother, my heart’s desire and prayer to God is,
    that we may all think and speak the same things; for, if we
    are divided among ourselves, what an advantage will Satan get
    over us! Let us love one another, excite all to come to Christ
    without exception, and our Lord will show us who are His.

    “With difficulty, I get time to write this, but I must
    answer dear brother Ingham’s letter. May the Lord Jesus be
    continually with your spirit, and make your soul brimful of
    peace and joy in the Holy Ghost! I love you in the bowels of
    the crucified Lamb. May He unite us more and more intimately
    to His dear self, and to one another! Salute all that love Him
    in sincerity. That you may be kept by God’s power to eternal
    salvation, is the prayer of your most affectionate, though
    unworthy brother and poor weak servant in Christ,

                                                “GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

It is needless to say, that some of the doctrines in the above letter
were not held by Wesley; but let that pass.

Ingham returned to Yorkshire with broader views and sympathies than
he had when he left for London. Sending for John Nelson to one of his
meetings, he said, “John, I believe God has called you to speak His word;
for I have spoken with several since I came back from London, who, I
believe, have received grace since I went; and I see God is working in
a shorter manner than He did with us at the beginning; and I should be
sorry to hinder any one from doing good.” Then, turning to the assembled
brethren and sisters, Ingham continued, “Before you all, I give John
leave to exhort in all my societies;” and, taking the rough hand of the
Yorkshire stonemason, he added, “John, God hath given you great honour,
in that He hath made use of you to call sinners to the blood of our
Saviour; and I desire you to exhort in all my societies as often as you
can.”

Thus, in the employment of lay preachers, Ingham co-operated with his
friend Wesley. Both were clergymen of the Church of England; and both
were willing to have lay helpers. Nelson’s preaching was attended with
great success. “Nine or ten in a week were brought to experience the
love of Jesus.”[84] John was no proselytizer. Those of his converts, who
belonged to the Church of England, he “exhorted to keep close to the
Church and sacrament;” and those who were “Dissenters, to keep to their
own meetings, and to let their light shine before their own community.”

In this respect, he was somewhat in advance of his reverend patron; for
Ingham advised just the contrary, and several acted on his advice, which,
says Nelson, “made me very uneasy.” Nelson firmly adhered to the Church
of England, and wished to avoid a schism. Ingham, on the other hand,
had already virtually seceded, and was at the head of the Moravian sect
in Yorkshire. The priest and the mason found it difficult to work in
harmony. Besides, though always actuated by the best intentions, Ingham
was somewhat fickle, and easily influenced by his Moravian helpers.
Nelson was just the opposite; and, yet, his steadfastness was not
stubbornness. He was firm, because he felt that the ground he occupied
was right. As already stated, Ingham, on his return from London, publicly
authorised, and even requested, Nelson to exhort in all his societies;
but, shortly afterwards, the authorization was withdrawn. Why? Because
Ingham was no longer the commander-in-chief of the Yorkshire converts,
but a merely co-ordinate member of a common-council. He could no longer
act as he liked; but must proceed in harmony with the decisions of those
to whom he had allied himself. Here an explanation is necessary.

In 1740, Ingham wrote:—

    “There are now upwards of fifty societies, where the people
    meet for edification; and of two thousand hearers of the
    gospel, I know, at least, three hundred on whose hearts the
    Spirit of God works powerfully; and one hundred who have found
    grace in the blood and the atonement of Jesus.”

The work begun by Ingham bid fair to exceed that in London. Hitherto the
rendezvous of the English Moravian ministers had been the metropolis;
now it became a farm-house in Yorkshire. About four miles east of Halifax
stood a spacious dwelling, with extensive outbuildings, and a large farm
attached. This the Moravians rented, that it might serve as a place of
residence for those Moravian pastors to whom the spiritual affairs of the
societies were committed, and as a common centre of union. They entered
on the occupancy of the premises in 1741; and, shortly after, Ingham, who
had hitherto had the chief care of the Yorkshire societies, urgently, and
in writing, requested the Brethren to take the entire direction of them
into their own hands, so that he might devote himself wholly to the work
of preaching. To carry out his purpose, a public meeting was convened, on
July 30, 1742, which was attended by about a thousand persons, belonging
to these societies. Ingham’s proposal was submitted to them, and was
heartily accepted. A document was drawn up, which, after referring to
Ingham’s faithful labours, expressed a desire to be served in future by
the ministers of the Brethren’s Church, “whom,” said the twelve hundred
persons who signed it, “we not only desire to preach publicly amongst us,
but also to visit us in private, put us to rights, and make such orders
amongst us as they shall see useful and necessary, according to the grace
the Lord shall give them.”

Smith House, near Halifax, was now the head-quarters of English
Moravianism. Even members in London, elected to fulfil sacred functions
there, were sent all the way to Yorkshire to be solemnly inducted into
their respective offices. The field, hitherto occupied by Ingham, Nelson,
and other co-operators, was divided into six principal districts, namely,
Smith House, Adwalton, Mirfield, Great Horton, Holbeck, and Osset; and to
each of these districts a Moravian minister was appointed.[85]

We now return to Ingham, and his neighbour Nelson. The latter tells us
of a great Moravian meeting at Gomersal Field House, at which Ingham
desired him to be present. Nelson went. The house was filled with five
or six preachers, four exhorters, and about a hundred of the principal
members of the Yorkshire societies. Not being able to gain admittance
to the house, and finding a large number of people outside, the honest
stonemason went into a field and preached. At length, Ingham came
out, and announced the decision of the Brethren: namely, that it was
not prudent to have so much preaching, for fear it should engender
persecution. “I desire, therefore,” said he, “that none of the young
men will expound till they are desired by the Brethren; we shall meet
again this day month, and then we will let you know what we are all
to do.” He next spoke to the young expounders, one by one, and said,
“I hope you will be obedient.” They all replied, “Yes, sir.” He then
turned to Nelson, saying, “John, I hope you will leave off till you
have orders from the Church.” “No, sir,” replied intrepid John; “I will
not leave off—I dare not; for I did not begin by the order of man, nor
by my own will; therefore, I shall not leave off by your order; for,
I tell you plainly, I should have left off without your bidding, but
that I believed, if I did, I should be damned for disobedience.” Ingham
answered, “You see these young men are obedient to the elders, and they
have been blessed in their labours as well as you.” Nelson said, “I
cannot tell how they have been blessed; but, I think, if God had sent
them on His own errand, they would not stop at your bidding.” At this
point, one of the preachers interfered, saying, “The spirit of the
prophets is subject to the prophets; therefore, they are right and you
are wrong, for they are subject.” John failing to be convinced by the
preacher’s logic, boldly answered, “You are not obedient to the prophets
of God that were of old, for God saith by one of them, ‘I have set
watchmen upon the walls of Jerusalem that shall not cease day or night;’
but you can hold your peace for a month together at man’s bidding.”
Then turning to Ingham, Nelson continued, “You know that many have
been converted by my exhorting lately, and a great many more are under
convictions; what a sad thing would it be to leave them as they are.”
Ingham’s lame reply was, “Our Saviour can convert souls without your
preaching.” “Yes,” retorted John, “or yours either; and He can give corn
without ploughing or sowing, but He does not, neither has He promised
that He will.” Ingham rejoined, “Be still one month, and then you will
know more of your own heart.” “With one proviso, I will,” said Nelson:
“if you can persuade the devil to be still for a month; but if he goes
about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour, and God hath put a
sword into my hand, I am determined to attack him wheresoever I meet him;
and wheresoever I meet sin, I meet Satan.” Further conversation followed;
and, at length, Ingham “charged all the people, as they loved him and the
brethren, that they should not let Nelson preach in their houses, nor
encourage him by hearing him elsewhere.”

This, on the part of Ingham, was painful and unworthy conduct. The
preaching of the stonemason had probably been as greatly blessed and as
successful as his own. The man was no irreligious, rash intruder; but a
real evangelist, called and qualified by Him who, in all ages, has been
wont to choose “the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and
the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and
base things of the world, and things which are despised, and things which
are not, to bring to nought things that are; that no flesh should glory
in His presence; and that he that glorieth may glory in the Lord.” Nelson
was as divinely called to preach Christ’s glorious gospel as Ingham was.
His ministry had the seals of divine approbation in the souls it had been
the means of converting; and Ingham’s effort to suspend it, even for a
month only, was a bold, bad act. Besides, the reason assigned for such
an interference with a commission, which Nelson had received from God
Himself, was a piece of cowardice unworthy of the man who had braved the
storms of the Atlantic Ocean, and the hardships and miasmata of Georgia,
solely for the purpose of being useful to the wild Indians and to a
portion of England’s outcast population. For fear of persecution, Nelson,
whom God had used in saving sinners, was to be gagged and silenced. The
change which had come over the naturally brave spirit of the Oxford
Methodist was a painful one; and also puzzling, except on the ground that
he had changed his company.

It is a mournful duty to have to mention another incident. Ingham
interdicted Nelson, though unsuccessfully. He further renounced his
old friend Wesley, and, for a season at least, became intoxicated with
the Moravian vanity, at that time disastrously spreading. Hence, the
following extract from Nelson’s Journal:—

    “I was desired once more to go to Gomersal Field House to speak
    to Mr. Ingham. When I got there, David Taylor was with him, and
    spoke kindly to me. When Mr. Taylor was gone, Mr. Ingham began
    to talk to me about making division among the Brethren. I told
    him, I did not want to make division; I wanted the people to
    be saved. He said, ‘We cannot receive you or Mr. Wesley into
    our community[86] till he publicly declares he has printed
    false doctrine, and you declare you have preached false.’ I
    said, ‘Wherein?’ He then burst out into laughter, and said, ‘In
    telling the people they may live without committing sin.’[87]
    I replied, ‘Do you call that false doctrine?’ He answered, ‘I
    do, I do; and Mr. Wesley has written false doctrine, teaching
    the same errors.’ He quoted some words; then I said, ‘They
    are not Mr. Wesley’s, but St John’s words; it is St. John who
    says, “Let no man deceive you; he that doeth righteousness is
    righteous, and he that committeth sin is of the devil.” So, if
    St. John be right, every one who preacheth contrary to what
    Mr. Wesley has written here, and what I have preached, is a
    deceiver and betrayer of souls.’ ‘If that be your opinion,’
    said Mr. Ingham, ‘we cannot receive you into our Church.’ I
    replied, ‘I don’t want to be one of you, for I am a member of
    the Church of England.’ He answered, ‘The Church of England is
    no Church; we are the Church.’ I said, ‘We! Whom do you mean?’
    He replied, ‘I and the Moravian Brethren.’ I said, ‘I have no
    desire to have any fellowship with you or them; it has been
    better for my soul since I have been wholly separated from you,
    and God has blessed my labours more since I was told, they
    had delivered me up to Satan, than ever before; therefore, I
    think it better to have their curse than to have communion with
    them.’ He replied, ’ If you think so, I have no more to say to
    you;’ and then, he turned his back on me.”

Thus did Ingham fully and finally sever himself from the Methodists.
Nelson continued preaching; souls were saved; and, in 1742, Wesley, for
the first time, visited the Birstal stonemason. After giving an account
how Nelson was led to begin to preach, and of his success, Wesley adds:—

    “Mr. Ingham hearing of this, came to Birstal, inquired into
    the facts, talked with John himself, and examined him in the
    closest manner, both touching his knowledge and spiritual
    experience; after which he encouraged him to proceed; and
    pressed him, as often as he had opportunity, to come to any
    of the places where himself had been, and speak to the people
    as God should enable him. But he soon gave offence, both by
    his plainness of speech, and by advising the people to go to
    church and sacrament. Mr. Ingham reproved him: and, finding him
    incorrigible, forbad any that were in his societies to hear
    him. But, being persuaded this is the will of God concerning
    him, he continues to this hour working in the day, that he may
    be burdensome to no man; and, in the evening, ‘testifying the
    truth as it is in Jesus.’”[88]

This is a long account; but not without interest; inasmuch as it
furnishes a glimpse of the way in which Ingham parted with the
Methodists, and of the beginnings of both Moravianism and Methodism in
the north of England. We only add, that, though Ingham passed through
Birstal during Wesley’s visit, there was no interview between them.[89]
Thus was an old and close friendship severed.

It has been already stated, that, the differences between Ingham and
Nelson probably occurred in 1741; and that Wesley’s visit to Birstal took
place in 1742. This, in some respects, was the most important period in
Ingham’s life.

Far away from the miserable strifes of the Moravians in London, we find
him, in 1740, an humble, happy, loving, useful Christian. The following
letter is simple and beautiful:—

                                       “OSSET, _September 20, 1740_.

    “MY DEAR BROTHER,—I have not heard anything of you this long
    time. As to myself, I am exceeding happy.[90] The Lord Jesus,
    my dear Redeemer, is abundantly gracious and bountiful towards
    me. I have, and do daily taste of His goodness. I am ashamed
    before Him; I am so very unworthy, and He is so very kind and
    merciful. My heart melts within me, at the thoughts of Him. He
    is all love. I am a sinful, helpless worm.

    “In Yorkshire, the Lord still keeps carrying on His work. Many
    souls are truly awakened: some have obtained mercy. The enemies
    are engaged against us; but the Lord is our helper. We have
    great peace, and love, and unity amongst ourselves. We have
    no differences, no divisions, no disputings. May He, who is
    the giver of every good and perfect gift, grant us always to
    be like-minded; and may we and our friends grow in grace, and
    increase in love towards one another, that, by this mark, all
    men may know that we belong to Christ!

         “I remain your affectionate, though unworthy brother,

                                                    “B. INGHAM.”[91]

If Ingham and John Nelson had been left to themselves, Ingham’s prayer
for continued unity might have been answered; but Ingham wished for
Toltschig, one of the ministerial chiefs among the London Moravians; and
Toltschig doubtless went.

    “We, in London,” writes James Hutton, “cannot spare Toltschig
    until Spangenberg comes to us. We here all think he will
    be useful to Ingham and the souls there. They must seize
    the opportunity presented. The souls in Yorkshire are more
    simple-hearted than those in London, where they are more
    knowing; and they do not, like those in town, quibble at
    every word. Toltschig is known in Yorkshire, where the souls
    love him, and he can speak to them with confidence. We want
    a thorough brother, fundamentally correct, and of large
    experience, for the souls in London, able to attend our bands
    and conferences, and to address our meetings. Toltschig is very
    well in bands and conferences, but he cannot preach.”[92]

Did Toltschig carry the cantankerous contagion of the London Moravians
with him? We cannot tell; but there can be no question, that, the
“simple-hearted” Yorkshire brethren caught it; and, that, in Yorkshire,
as in London, a schism among the Moravians led to the formation of the
society of Methodists.

Indeed, it is a curious fact, that, for a season, the spirit of discord,
among nearly the whole of the new religionists, seemed rampant. No man
ever lived who sighed for peace more ardently than Whitefield. His
large and loving heart had room enough for every man. The language of
the Psalmist’s pen was pre-eminently the language of Whitefield’s life:
“Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: they shall prosper that love thee.
Peace be within thy walls, and prosperity within thy palaces. For my
brethren and companions’ sake, I will now say, Peace be within thee.”
And, yet, at this very time, as if to make bad things worse, the
quarrel, between the London Moravians and Methodists, was followed by
the quarrel between Wesley and Whitefield, respecting Wesley’s sermon on
“Free Grace;” and, to complete the whole, and to make the confusion more
confounded, the Yorkshire converts, so far away from the strifeful scene,
began disputing; and the frank, warm-hearted Ingham began to regard his
old friend Wesley with a suspicious eye, and presumptuously tried to
annul John Nelson’s divine commission to act as an evangelist among his
neighbours!

Ingham’s objection to Wesley’s doctrine of entire sanctification has
been already mentioned; but, besides this, there were other points of
difference. Wesley writes:—

    “1741. August 1.—I had a long conversation with Mr. Ingham. We
    both agreed,—1. That none shall finally be saved, who have not,
    as they had opportunity, done all good works; and, 2. That if
    a justified person does not do good, as he has opportunity, he
    will lose the grace he has received; and, if he ‘repent’ not,
    ‘and do the former works,’ will perish eternally. But with
    regard to the unjustified (if I understand him), we wholly
    disagreed. He believed, it is not the will of God, that, we
    should wait for faith in doing good. I believe, this is the
    will of God; and that, they will never find Him, unless they
    seek Him in this way.”

Again:—

    “1742, August 3.—I preached at Mirfield, where I found Mr.
    Ingham had been an hour before. Great part of the day, I spent
    in speaking with those who have tasted the powers of the world
    to come; by whose concurrent testimony I find, that, Mr.
    Ingham’s method to this day is,—1. To endeavour to persuade
    them, that they are in a delusion, and have indeed no faith
    at all: if this cannot be done, then, 2. To make them keep it
    to themselves; and, 3. To prevent them going to the church or
    sacrament; at least to guard them from having any reverence, or
    expecting to find any blessing in those ordinances of God. In
    the evening, I preached at Adwalton, a mile from Birstal. After
    preaching, and the next day, I spoke with more, who had, or
    sought for, redemption through Christ; all of whom I perceived
    had been advised also, to put their light under a bushel; or to
    forsake the ordinances of God, in order to find Christ.”[93]

Ingham’s wish to prevent persecution has been noticed. On this ground,
he requested Nelson and other exhorters to desist from preaching for a
month. What led to this? Perhaps, the publication, in 1740, of a furious
pamphlet of eighty-four pages, with the following title: “The Imposture
of Methodism displayed; in a Letter to the Inhabitants of the Parish
of Dewsbury and Occasioned by the Rise of a certain Modern Sect of
Enthusiasts, (among them,) called Methodists. By William Bowman, M.A.,
Vicar of Dewsbury and Aldborough in Yorkshire, and Chaplain to the Right
Honourable Charles Earl of Hoptoun.”

This pastorly letter was avowedly written against the Methodists; but the
reverend author, like many others at the time, employed an inappropriate
word; for, at that period, there were no Methodists at all, either in
Yorkshire or any other part of the north of England. His letter is
dated, “Aldbrough, August 15, 1740”; whereas, John Nelson, the beginner
of northern Methodism, did not commence preaching to his neighbours for
several months after this.[94] The Vicar of Dewsbury _meant_ Moravians;
but, for reasons of his own, he preferred to use the word Methodists.

Terrible was the anger which Ingham and his coadjutors had excited in the
Christian breast of their reverend neighbour. The pamphlet is a rarity,
and, perhaps, a condensed account of it may be welcome.

It is a curious fact, that, the writer, while professing so much interest
in the spiritual welfare of his flock, acknowledges, that, “for the
greatest part of his time,” he is “absent and remote from them.” He is,
however, notwithstanding this, greatly distressed on account of “the
impious spirit of enthusiasm and superstition, which has of late crept in
among” them, “and which sadly threatens a total ruin and destruction of
all religion and virtue.” Indeed, he had himself been, “in some measure,
an eye-witness of this monstrous madness, and religious frenzy, which
introduced nothing but a confused and ridiculous medley of nonsense and
inconsistency.” It was true, that, “at present, the contagion was pretty
much confined to the dregs and refuse of the people,—the weak, unsteady
mob;” but, then, the mob was so numerous in the west of Yorkshire, that,
the danger was greater than was apprehended. He next proceeds to review
“some of the chief doctrines” of “these modern visionaries,” which he
will not now determine whether, “like the Quakers,” they “are a sect
hatched and fashioned in a seminary of Jesuits; or whether, like the
German Anabaptists, they are a set of crazy, distempered fanatics.” “The
first and chief principle they inculcated was, that _they are divinely
and supernaturally inspired by the Holy Ghost, to declare the will of
God to mankind_.” Mr. Bowman attempts to demolish this “high and awful
claim,” and to demonstrate, that, its assertors are “a set of idiots
or madmen,” “only worthy of a dark corner in Bedlam, or the wholesome
correction of Bridewell.” “Another principle doctrine of these pretended
pietists was, that, _for the sake of a further Reformation, it was not
only lawful, but incumbent on the people, to separate from their proper
ministers, and adhere to them_.” In refuting this barefaced heresy,
the Dewsbury vicar, quotes, at considerable length, in the Greek and
Latin languages, (which probably not half-a-dozen of his parishioners
understood), the testimonies of Clemens Romanus, St. Ignatius, St
Cyprian, St. Austin, and Irenæus,—on “the necessity of Church unity.”
He admits, “that, all the clergymen of reputation in the neighbourhood”
of Dewsbury, had “refused these Methodists the use of their pulpits;”
but he was glad of this; and says “this was not done till, by their
extravagant flights and buffooneries, they had made the church more like
a bear-garden than the house of God; and the rostrum nothing else but
the trumpet of sedition, heresy, blasphemy, and everything destructive
to religion and good manners.” “A third mark of imposture propagated
by these mad devotionalists was, _that it was lawful and expedient for
mere laymen, for women, and the meanest and most ignorant mechanics,
to minister in the Church of Christ, to preach and expound the word
of God, and to offer up the prayers of the congregation in public
assemblies_.” To refute this, Mr. Bowman favours his parishioners with
a lengthy dissertation on the three orders, bishops, presbyters, and
deacons; and comes to the charitable conclusion, that, the Methodists are
“the most impious cheats and impostors.” “_A fourth doctrine of these
enthusiasts was, that, it is possible for a man to live without sin;
that themselves actually do so; and that regeneration, or the new birth,
necessary to salvation, consists in an absolute and entire freedom from
all kind of sin whatsoever._” Mr. Bowman asserts, that, “intolerable
pride and presumption is the foundation of this unhappy delusion.” “A
fifth mark of imposture was, that cruel, uncharitable, and consequently
unchristian doctrine, _which denounces eternal death and damnation on
all_, who cannot conform to the ridiculous sentiments of these mad
devotionalists.” And a sixth was, “_that, in order to be true Christians,
we are absolutely to abandon and renounce all worldly enjoyments and
possessions whatsoever; to have all things in common amongst one another;
and entirely neglect everything in this life, but prayer and meditation;
to be always upon our knees, and at our devotions._”

Such were the six charges of the Vicar of Dewsbury. They consist of a
little truth enveloped in a large amount of scurrilous mendacity. After
discussing them, Mr. Bowman proposes to conclude with “some general
reflections;” one of which is, that, “the religion of the Methodists
inculcates violence, wrath, uncharitableness, fierceness, arbitrariness,
and affectation of dominion; and teaches men to hate, reproach, and
ill-treat one another.” Was this a dream of Mr. Bowman’s? or was it a
wicked invention? The reverend writer finishes with a personal attack on
Ingham, which must have separate attention.

In the year 1740, bread was scarce, and prices were high. Riots occurred
in various parts of England; the military were called out, and several
persons killed. Yorkshire was the scene of one of these disturbances.
On April 26, a mob of about five hundred people assembled at Dewsbury,
broke into a mill, and took away all the meal they found. On the next
day, which was Sunday, the rioters again appeared, and sacked a second
mill. Sir Samuel Armitage, who filled the office of high-sheriff, and
Sir John Kaye a magistrate, read the proclamation, and endeavoured to
disperse them; but the mob threw stones; and, proceeding to another mill
in the parish of Thornhill, captured all the meal and corn, partly pulled
down the building, and stole all the miller’s beef and bacon. Things
were becoming desperate; and the two gentlemen, already named, desired
the rioters to assemble at the house of Sir John Kaye, on Monday,
April 28th, where the neighbouring magistrates would listen to their
complaints. About a thousand came, beating drums, and carrying colours.
Nothing good resulted. The mob retired, shouting; they neither cared
for the magistrates nor the high-sheriff. They hurried to three more
mills, and decamped with all the edibles the mills contained. They next
proceeded to Criggleston, and broke into the barn of Joseph Pollard, and
carried away a quantity of flour. Pollard fired at them; and captured
several prisoners. On Tuesday, the 29th, Pollard took his captives to
Wakefield, to have them tried. The rioters assembled to release their
friends; and threatened to pull down Pollard’s house; to “hang himself;
and to skin him like a cat.” Captain Burton,[95] however, boldly advanced
to meet them; “knocked down three or four of them with his stick; took
six or seven prisoners;” and marched them off to the house of correction.
On the same day, a detachment of soldiers were brought from York; and,
though great murmurings continued; outward quiet was restored.[96]

Strangely enough, Ingham was accused as the chief promoter of this
disgraceful tumult. In the _Weekly Miscellany_ for June 8, 1740, the
following anonymous communication, from “Yorkshire,” was inserted. It was
addressed to Mr. Hooker, the editor.

    “You have no doubt seen an account, in the public prints, of
    the riot we had in this county. It took place at Dewsbury,
    where Mr. Ingham has propagated Methodism. Some will have him
    to be the author of this insurrection, by preaching up, as he
    certainly did, a _community of goods_, as was practised by
    the _Primitive Christians_. How much he may have contributed
    towards raising the mob, I will not pretend to say; but what I
    am going to tell you of this clergyman, is matter of fact. I
    can prove it, and you may make what use of it you think proper.
    A gentleman of Leeds, who was one of Mr. Ingham’s followers,
    asked him what difference there was between the Church of
    England and his way of worship? To which Mr. Ingham replied,
    ‘The Church of England is the scarlet whore, prophesied of in
    the Revelation; and there will be no true Christianity as long
    as that Church subsists.’

                                          “Your humble Servant.”[97]

In the then excited state of the country, and especially of Yorkshire, it
would have been unwise for Ingham to have allowed such a publication to
pass in silence. Hence, he waited upon Hooker, the editor of the _Weekly
Miscellany_, who, says he, “received me in a genteel manner, and gave me
proof that the letter of June 8th was from Yorkshire.” This is something
to Mr. Hooker’s credit, especially when it is borne in mind that, at that
period, he was one of Methodism’s bitterest opponents. The result of the
interview was, Ingham wrote, and Hooker published the following lengthy
letter:—

                                           “LONDON, _June 14, 1740_.

    “MR. HOOKER,—In your paper of June 8, you inserted a
    letter from Yorkshire concerning me. Had I followed my own
    inclination, I should have taken no more notice of this than of
    another falsity that was printed some time ago in the _News_,
    that the woollen manufacture in Yorkshire was likely to be
    ruined, implying, by me; and of many more, spread up and down,
    by common report, which often contradict one another. But the
    advice of friends has prevailed with me to write this, in
    answer to what the author of that letter charges me with.

    “The author of the letter charges me with two things: directly
    and indirectly:—

    “As to the riot that was lately in Yorkshire, he does not
    say directly that I was the cause of it; but he insinuates
    something like it, as being the consequence of my doctrine.
    But if this person was not sure that I was the cause of this
    insurrection, it is very unbecoming, either of a Christian or
    a gentleman, to hint at such a thing. When the riot happened,
    I was absent from Dewsbury parish, at the time and several
    days after. I neither knew nor heard anything of it till it
    was over. As soon as I heard of it, I spoke against it as a
    very wicked thing, and of dangerous consequence. I inquired
    particularly whether any persons that frequented the societies
    were in it. I heard of three. But one of them had been turned
    out some weeks before for misbehaviour. The other two, I
    ordered to be turned out directly, and publicly disowned;
    though, I believe, they, as many more, were drawn to run among
    the rabble, through weakness and curiosity. The gentleman says,
    some will have me to be the author of the insurrection. It is
    true, _they say so_. And, indeed, everything that comes amiss
    is laid to my charge. _They said_ I was the occasion of the wet
    season last summer; of the long frost in winter; of the present
    war; and, if it blows a storm, some or other _say_ I am the
    cause of it. But this is the talk of the vulgar; men of sense
    know better. Does not every one know that, _they say_, a common
    report is generally false?

    “But, further, to the _second_ charge. Supposing I had preached
    up a community of goods, as this gentleman positively asserts
    (which I never did), would it thence follow, that people have
    a liberty to plunder; that they may take away their neighbour’s
    goods by force? If the one was a necessary consequence of
    the other, then the apostles and first Christians were much
    to blame in what they did. If all were real Christians, yet
    it would not be necessary to have a community of goods. None
    were obliged to it in the apostles’ days. They entered into
    it willingly. But in the present state of things, it would be
    both absurd and impracticable to attempt such a thing. What
    might make some people think that I maintained this doctrine,
    perhaps, was this. I once preached a charity sermon at Leeds,
    I think, from these words: ‘And the multitude of them that
    believed were of one heart and soul; neither said any of
    them that ought of the things which he possessed were his
    own; but they had all things common.’ But I nowhere asserted
    therein, that we were now obliged to do as they then did. I
    only exhorted my hearers to imitate the good examples of the
    primitive Christians, and to contribute generously to the wants
    of their poor brethren, according to their ability. Now, if
    this gentleman’s mistake arose from this sermon, if he thinks
    it worth his while to come over to Osset, after my return into
    Yorkshire,—I promise to let him see the sermon, as I preached
    it (for it is not altered), that he may be fully satisfied; for
    I neither _did_, nor _do_ preach up a community of goods.

    “The _third_ thing which the author of the letter lays to my
    charge, and which he says is matter of fact, and which he
    can prove, is this: A gentleman of Leeds, who was one of my
    followers, asked what difference there was between the Church
    of England and my way of worship? To which, he says, I replied,
    ‘The Church of England is the scarlet whore, prophesied of in
    the Revelation; and there will be no true Christianity as long
    as that Church subsists.’ Now, supposing any gentleman should
    have asked me such a question (which I do not remember), do
    these words look like a pertinent answer to such a question?
    I never pretended to set up a new way of worship. I still
    live in the communion of the Church of England. My neighbours
    can testify that I go to church constantly, and receive the
    sacrament. But, further, I am sure that I never _did_, nor
    _could_ say these words; for _they are contrary to my settled
    judgment_. I may have said words like these, yet quite
    different in their meaning.

    “It has been a very common thing for people to misrepresent my
    sense, and to run away with half a sentence. When I have been
    preaching the doctrine of universal redemption, and asserting
    that God made no man purposely to be damned, but that He would
    have all to be saved, some have reported that I maintained,
    nobody would be damned. When I have been declaring the riches
    of God’s love and mercy, in receiving the greatest sinners,
    coming to Him through Christ, some have said that I gave people
    liberty to live as they list. And, again, when I have been
    speaking of that purity of heart and holiness of life which the
    gospel requires, some have said (and it is the general outcry),
    according to my doctrine, nobody can be saved. I scarce ever
    preach a sermon but somebody or other misrepresents it. But, I
    am afraid, I have deviated too much in mentioning these things.

    “To return then. I have said that Babylon and the whore,
    mentioned in the Revelation, relate to more Churches than one;
    and that the Church of England is concerned therein as well
    as other Churches; but I never said that she was _the scarlet
    whore_. I believe, indeed, that, by Babylon and the whore, the
    Church of Rome is chiefly and principally meant; but, yet, the
    Scripture saith, she sitteth upon many waters; _i.e._, people
    and multitudes, and nations and tongues, all sects and parties
    (Rev. xvii. 15). For Babylon signifies confusion; and by the
    scarlet whore is meant corruption, or departing from the truth
    either in principle or practice (Hos. i. 2; ii. 5). Babylon,
    therefore, or the whore is in, and may be applied to, every
    Church and person, where there is not a perfect self-denial
    and entire resignation to God. And are there not multitudes of
    persons in every Church in Christendom, and consequently in the
    Church of England, who greatly depart from the truth as it is
    in Jesus?

    “As to the latter part of this accusation,—‘There will be no
    true Christianity as long as that Church exists,’—I absolutely
    deny that I could say so; because I believe there always was,
    always will be, and now is, a true Church of Christ, against
    which the gates of hell cannot prevail. I believe, likewise,
    that many of the Church of England, and some out of every sect
    and party, are members of this true Church of Christ. I have,
    indeed, often said that there is a glorious state of the Church
    to come, when the partition wall of bigotry, sect, religion,
    and party zeal will be broken down; and the Jews will be
    called; and the fulness of the Gentiles shall come in; and the
    whole earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord, as
    the waters cover the sea. I do not pretend to know when this
    time will be; but whenever it commences there will be another
    face of things in Christendom. The outward pomp and grandeur
    of the Church will be diminished, and the inward beauty will
    appear the brighter. The spirit of primitive Christianity will
    be revived; and, probably, the last state of the Church will
    be more glorious than the first. It will be happy for them
    who live in those days; but yet, in the meantime, I believe
    and hope many will be saved out of all Churches or societies
    of Christians, and meet together in that blessed place, where
    there will be no difference or disputing, but all will be love
    and joy and peace.

                    “I am, sir, your humble Servant,

                                                    “B. INGHAM.”[98]

Mr. Hooker, the editor, inserted Ingham’s letter; but he did so with
reluctance. He snarled even while pretending to be just and generous.
Hence he appended an ill-tempered article of his own, from which the
following is an extract. Having told his readers, that, “at Mr. Ingham’s
request, he had published his letter,” he proceeds,—

    “If I recollect the many instances of the great want of
    _simplicity_, _sincerity_, and regard to _truth_, which some
    other _teachers_ among the Methodists have discovered, I
    should naturally _suspect_ that Mr. Ingham may not have given
    a fair account of his case. Or, if I judge of his probity in
    _this_ instance by his conduct in _others_, the presumption
    of insincerity must lie against him. Nay, I think, there
    are some grounds of suspicion in his _defence_. But what I
    insist upon is this,—that his _public conduct is insincere
    and dishonest_. While he owns that he communicates with the
    Church of England, and by communicating with her, he _subjects_
    himself to her _authority_, he sets up separate meetings in
    _opposition to it_, in _defiance_ of it, nay, in _defiance_
    of _all_ authority, both _civil and ecclesiastical_. By this
    _illegal_, _disobedient_ behaviour to the laws of that _Church_
    and of that _civil society_, of which he is a member, he has
    given just and great scandal to all good _Christians_. In
    cases of _public scandal_, the laws of _Christianity_ and
    of _common charity_ require the person who gives it to ask
    _public pardon_, to _alter his public conduct_, or _publicly to
    vindicate it_.”

This was hard measure. Poor Ingham had been most unjustly accused of
being the author of the Yorkshire riot, and had defended himself; and
now the editor of the _Weekly Miscellany_ charges him with insincerity,
dishonesty, and causing public scandal; and officiously prescribes
that he should ask public pardon. Hooker was too much of a partisan to
discharge his editorial duties with even-handed justice. Ingham made no
reply to the Editor’s unwarrantable attack; but the latter printed two
other letters, in which the same hostility was rampant. The first was
dated, “Wakefield, July 16, 1740,” and fills an entire folio page, and
nearly one third of another. In reply to Ingham’s statement, that he was
not in the parish of Dewsbury when the riot commenced, nor for several
days afterwards, the anonymous letter-writer calls this “an equivocating
way of talking,” for three men of veracity had declared that he was
all the while at Osset, a township in the parish. Can this be true? We
cannot but disbelieve it. Ingham was incapable of such equivocation. The
following extracts also are too manifestly malignant to be altogether
truthful:—

    “There were more of Mr. Ingham’s followers concerned in the
    riot than he would have the world to believe. For one fellow,
    who had lived with him several months under the same roof,
    was one of the ring-leaders of the rioters,—a very busy man
    in breaking the miller’s utensils, and a kind of helper of
    those to wheat flour who had no right to it. This godly man
    fled from justice, and has not since been heard of. Another of
    Mr. Ingham’s admirers at Osset very carefully helped himself
    at the mill; and he also absconded, till, as he thought, the
    danger was over, and now he appears again. A third of the
    Methodists concerned in this riot, was taken up by some of his
    Majesty’s justices of the peace, and was sent to York among
    other criminals, where he awaits his trial at the next assizes.
    If Mr. Ingham had inquired as particularly as he pretends,
    he would have ascertained that when these outrageous men
    gathered from several towns to seize upon Mr. Pollard’s corn at
    Crigglestone, there were not only two, but two hundred, perhaps
    many more, of his followers mixed with others in the same
    wicked design.

    “This gentleman denies that he ever preached up a community of
    goods; and yet one of his former hearers at Osset, who is now
    returned to the Church, assured me that Mr. Ingham had often
    done that, and had told his auditors, ‘That none of them need
    to labour, for God would provide for them; and that they must
    throw themselves upon Jesus Christ, their whole life being
    spent in religious exercises being no more than sufficient
    to save their souls; for they who were rich ought to supply
    the wants of the poor.’ ‘So,’ says he, ‘had I followed Mr.
    Ingham’s advice, I should not have been worth a groat.’ And
    even Mr. Ingham’s brother declared, ‘If I mind our Ben, he will
    preach me out of all I have.’ This information I had from Mr.
    Glover, of Osset. I am far from thinking Mr. Ingham persuaded
    any to rise in this tumultuous manner, and charitably hope he
    did not approve of the riot; yet, when all circumstances are
    laid together, it is a great presumption that his preaching
    up a community of goods to men of low condition, was an
    encouragement to them in this dear season to make bold with
    more than their own.”

    “As to the charge about ‘the scarlet whore,’ the writer
    acknowledges that when the gentleman in Leeds, who had given
    the information, was cross-examined, ‘he quibbled, gave
    ambiguous answers, and, in short, could be fixed to nothing.’”

In reference to Mr. Ingham’s “new way of worship,” all that the
correspondent of the _Weekly Miscellany_ can allege, is the following:—

    “Mr. Ingham has preached in a croft at Osset to a confused
    number of people, drawn together from several parishes, which
    more resembled a bear-baiting than an orderly congregation
    for the worship of God. When Mr. Rogers,[99] one of his
    fellow-itinerants, came into these parts, he accompanied him
    to Westgate-Moor, adjoining to Wakefield, and stood by him,
    while the other harangued the mob from a stool or table. Mr.
    Rogers, in preaching from ‘Beware of dogs,’ advised his hearers
    to beware of the ministers of the present age; for all the
    ministers now-a-days preach false doctrine to tickle their
    carnal ears, that they may fill their coffers with money,
    and preach their souls to the devil. Another of Mr. Ingham’s
    associates, Mr. Delamotte, who is still a laic, being asked by
    a clergyman why he did not proceed regularly for a degree, and
    then for orders, answered, ‘If you mean episcopal ordination,
    I assure you I think the gospel of Jesus Christ has nothing
    to do with it.’ Rogers also told the same clergyman, that he
    was ‘as much inspired as St. Paul was, except the working of
    miracles; and that he could not commit actual sin.’ Besides
    all this, Mr. Ingham keeps his meetings, unauthorized by law,
    at Dewsbury, Osset, Mirfield, and other places, particularly
    at Horbury, in this parish, where he prays, sings, expounds,
    preaches, and visits the sick, without the consent or knowledge
    of the minister who resides there, though he is always ready to
    discharge his duty, and is much superior to Mr. Ingham in every
    respect for the discharge of it. As to the services he uses, it
    is a medley of his own; for though he makes use of the Common
    Prayer, he disguises and spoils it by his own additions. Much
    more might be said about his disorderly meetings, particularly
    locking himself up with a select number of his hearers till
    midnight, or after.”

The writer thus concludes:—

    “Let this intruder, who pretends to act as a minister of the
    Established Church, say by what Canon in any General Council,
    by what Constitution in any National Church, he takes upon
    himself to wander from place to place, sometimes preaching in
    the fields, and sometimes creeping into private houses, to
    the great disturbance and disquiet of the lawfully appointed
    ministers, and raising schisms and distractions in a Church
    established upon primitive antiquity.”[100]

The other letter was not dissimilar to the one already quoted. It was
dated, “Dewsbury, August 18, 1740,” and signed “A Layman;” and was
published in the _Weekly Miscellany_, on August 30th. This charitably
alarmed “Layman” brands the Methodists as “hot-headed enthusiasts;”
speaks of Ingham and Delamotte as “those high pretenders to purity and
holiness;” and stigmatises the latter as an “enthusiastic babbler,”
pouring out “effusions of nonsense.” The following is the concluding
paragraph:—

    “Whatever sorry evasions Mr. Ingham may make to extenuate his
    wickedness in being instrumental to the riot at Dewsbury;
    yet, it is certain that he is highly culpable, and was, if
    not at the bottom, the sole cause of it. The principles he
    instils into his adherents are such as, when known, no better
    consequences could be expected than those that have followed:
    and what further mischief may ensue, if he be not restrained,
    is shocking to consider:—no less than the introducing of
    Popery, or, at least, some measures of his own destructive to
    the tranquillity and happiness of the community.”

In the same month in which this layman’s letter was published, Mr.
Bowman, the reverend vicar of Dewsbury, finished his furious pamphlet on
“The Imposture of Methodism Displayed;” and, of course, was too zealously
honest to be silent respecting the riot. Mr. Hooker’s correspondents were
meekness itself compared with this pamphleteering pugilist. He declares,
he “never met with so much downright falsehood, such trifling evasions,
and matter so foreign to the purpose” as he had met with in Ingham’s
letter in the _Weekly Miscellany_. He asserts, that, during the riot,
Ingham “had a constant communication with several of the inhabitants,
by means of his nocturnal assemblies; and, that, he had rashly given
out, some little time before the riot happened, that, _in a few hours’
warning, he could have ten thousand men ready for any emergency_.” Mr.
Bowman writes:—

    “Ingham’s conduct was, at that time, so much taken notice of
    and suspected, that the magistrates were almost determined to
    apprehend him, as a disturber and incendiary; and, I believe,
    were only deterred from it, in consideration of what might
    happen from the fierceness and fury of his adherents. Were
    it requisite, I could name several of his great favourites
    and abettors, who had no small share in these disturbances.
    I myself heard two of his principal associates, three days
    before the affair happened, insinuate that such a thing was
    shortly to be expected, and that the people might be justified
    in what they did. Whence we may reasonably presume, that this
    horrid villany could nowhere be hatched but in these infernal
    assemblies.”... “I can prove by the incontestable evidence of
    great numbers, both of his constant and accidental hearers,
    that a _community of goods_ is a common topic of discourse
    with him, in his sermons, in his expositions, and in his
    private conversation also. I know, that, he has endeavoured to
    persuade several of his followers to sell their estates and
    possessions, as the first Christians did, for the relief of
    their poor brethren; and that he has declared over and over,
    _That private property was inconsistent with Christianity; and
    that as long as any one had anything of his own, he could not
    enter into the kingdom of heaven._”... “It is surprising to the
    last degree that a set of incorrigible wretches should be thus
    suffered to trample with impunity on all laws, ecclesiastical
    and civil; to spread doctrines subversive both to religion
    and the state; to form secret assemblies and cabals, in order
    to disturb the repose of society, and throw everything into
    confusion and disorder. No one in the world is a heartier
    friend to toleration, or would make more favourable allowances
    to tender consciences, than myself; but, God forbid! that,
    under the notion of toleration, we should give opportunity
    to cheats and impostors to sow their hemlock and nightshade
    among us; to extirpate all traces of true religion and virtue;
    or to traitors and rebels to sap the foundation of our civil
    constitution; to deliver up our king and our country to ruin.”

Thus, _nolens volens_, was Ingham branded as a _Communist_, and the
author of the Yorkshire riots. It was far from pleasant to be pelted
with such paper pellets; but there was no help for it. In every age, the
inspired text has been literally fulfilled, “All that will live godly in
Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.” We are not prepared to justify
everything which Ingham said and did; but we are prepared to deny, with
righteous indignation, that he was a _communist_ and a _rioter_. His
enemies were too bitter to be truthful. His utterances respecting the
members of the primitive Church were perverted to serve a malignant
purpose. They might, on some occasions, be unguarded; but they were not
intended to sanction communistic politics. He himself repudiated such
intention; but his adversaries persisted in their unrighteous accusation,
and made it worse by charging him with mendacity. It was hard usage;
but not uncommon among the Moravians and Methodists. The newspaper
controversy respecting Ingham was ended; but, for ten months afterwards,
Mr. Hooker employed almost every number of his _Weekly Miscellany_ in
abusing the Methodists, and Wesley and Whitefield in particular.

This is a long account of what some may deem a comparatively unimportant
chapter in Ingham’s life; but, we trust, it may not be altogether
uninteresting and useless; first, because, we believe, this was the
only newspaper warfare that fell to Ingham’s lot; and, secondly, and
especially, because it shows the unfavourable circumstances under which
John Nelson began to preach, and the difficulty there must have been in
instituting Yorkshire Methodism only a few months afterwards.

Ingham’s ministerial labours were not confined to his native county.
John Bennett brought him into Derbyshire.[101] We have also seen, that,
he paid frequent visits to the metropolis. Bedford, likewise, and the
vicinity were favoured with his preaching. His Christian sympathy was
world-wide. Six years before, he had crossed the Atlantic to convert
the Indians. He was an active member of the Moravian “Society for the
Furtherance of the Gospel”; and having, by some means, become acquainted
with the great Dissenter of the day, the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, proposed him
as one of its corresponding members. Hence the following letter sent to
Doddridge:—

                                        “LONDON, _August 6th, 1741_.

    “DEAR SIR,—I have here sent you the letters I promised
    you. I am also to inform you, that you are chosen to be a
    corresponding member of the ‘Society for the Furtherance of
    the Gospel.’ Before you expressed your desire to me, I had
    already proposed you to the committee, who all approved of
    you; and, after the meeting was over, when I mentioned you to
    the society, they all unanimously chose you without balloting;
    so that, when you are in London, you will not only have the
    liberty to hear the letters and accounts read, but also to meet
    with the members about business,—and, further, to be in the
    committee. The brethren will be glad to hear from you as often
    as you please, and they, from time to time, will send you some
    accounts of the transactions of the Society. I gave what you
    entrusted me with to the box. Mr. Moody gave a guinea. Brother
    Spangenberg and all the brethren salute you.

            “Your affectionate friend and brother in Christ,

                                                        “B. INGHAM.”

Doddridge’s answer was as follows:—

                                   “NORTHAMPTON, _August 8th, 1741_.

    “REV. AND DEAR BROTHER,—I am thankful to the ‘Society for the
    Furtherance of the Gospel’ for their readiness to admit so
    unworthy a member, and hope, as the Lord shall enable me, to
    approve myself cordially affectionate, though incapable of
    giving much assistance.

    “I did this day, in our Church meeting, publicly report some
    important facts from Brother Hutton and others, as to the
    success of our dear Moravian Brethren and their associates.
    We rejoiced in the Lord at the joyful tidings, and joined in
    recommending them to the grace of God. I hope Providence will
    enable me to be a little serviceable to this good design. I
    shall gladly continue to correspond with the Society, and
    gladly hope to have some good news from these parts ere long.
    In the mean time, I humbly commend myself to your prayers and
    theirs.

    “The conversation at Mr. Moody’s, on Monday morning, has
    left a deep impression on my heart. Salute my dear brethren,
    Messrs. Spangenberg and Kinchin, with Mr. Hutton, etc. I shall
    hope to hear when that blessed herald of our Redeemer, Count
    Zinzendorf, arrives. We long to see you. God brought me home
    in peace, and I found all well here. My wife and other friends
    salute you in the Lord.

    “I am, dear sir, your unworthy but affectionate friend in our
    gracious Lord,

                                                  “PHILIP DODDRIDGE.

    “P.S.—I have looked over several of the letters with great
    pleasure, and heartily thank you for sending them. Glory be to
    Him, who causes His gospel to triumph, and magnifies the riches
    of His grace in getting Himself the victory, by soldiers, who,
    out of weakness, are made strong. If Christ raise to Himself
    a seed among the Negroes and Hottentots, I will honour them
    beyond all the politest nations upon earth that obey not His
    glorious gospel.”[102]

This Missionary Society, of which Ingham was one of the chief members,
though still in its infancy, had already accomplished a most marvellous
and blessed work. Its origin was remarkable. In 1731, Count Zinzendorf
visited Copenhagen, for the purpose of being present at the coronation
of Christian VI., king of Denmark. Whilst there, some of the count’s
servants became acquainted with a negro, from the island of St. Thomas,
in the West Indies. The negro told them of the ardent desire of many
of the slaves in that island to be taught the way of salvation; but
added, that their labours were so incessant that they had no leisure for
religious instruction; and that the only way to reach them was for the
missionary himself to become a slave, and to teach them during their
daily toils. This was related to the Brethren of Herrnhut; and the result
was, two young men, Leonard Dover and Tobias Leupold publicly offered
to go to St. Thomas’s, and even to _sell themselves as slaves_, if they
could find no other way of preaching to the negroes. Thus began the
Moravian missions to the heathen; and, within ten years, at the time
when Ingham proposed Doddridge as a corresponding member of the Society
for the Furtherance of the Gospel, missionaries had been sent to St.
Thomas’s, to St. Croix, to Greenland, to Surinam, to the Rio de Berbice,
to several Indian tribes in North America, to the negroes in South
Carolina, to Lapland, to Tartary, to Algiers, to Guinea, to the Cape of
Good Hope, and to Ceylon.

Among others greatly benefited by Ingham’s ministry, were the four
daughters of the Earl of Huntingdon, Lady Anne, Lady Frances, Lady
Catherine, and Lady Margaret Hastings. While on a visit at Ledstone
Hall, in Yorkshire, they were induced, by motives of curiosity, to hear
him preach in a neighbouring parish. He was then invited to preach in
Ledsham Church; and became a frequent visitor at the Hall. When in
London, the Ladies Hastings attended the preaching of the Moravians
and first Methodists. Under this ministry, they were given to see the
insufficiency of their own righteousness and the method of salvation on
which they had been resting, and were made willing to receive the Lord
Jesus Christ as the foundation of their hope and trust. Lady Margaret
was the first who received the truth; and the change effected, by the
Holy Spirit, on her heart soon became visible to all. Considering the
obligations she was under to the grace of God, she felt herself called
upon to seek the salvation of her fellow-creatures, and the promotion of
their best and eternal interests. Next to her own soul, the salvation of
her own family and friends became her care. She exhorted them faithfully
and affectionately, one by one, to “flee from the wrath to come;” and the
Lord was pleased to make her the honoured instrument of the conversion of
not a few of them. Her brother, the ninth Earl of Huntingdon, had been
married to Lady Selina Shirley, second daughter of Earl Ferrers; and it
is a fact too interesting to be omitted, that, the conversion of this
remarkable woman was, under God, the result of a casual remark which
fell from Lady Margaret. The two conversing one day, on the subject of
religion, Lady Margaret observed, “That since she had known and believed
in the Lord Jesus Christ for life and salvation, she had been as happy
as an angel.” This scrap of Methodist lovefeast-experience was “a word
spoken in due season.” It led to self-examination, and to scriptural
inquiry; and Selina, Countess of Huntingdon, never rested until she also
had found peace with God through faith in Christ.

Lady Margaret Hastings was united in marriage to Mr. Ingham, on November
12th, 1741, at the residence of her brother, the Earl of Huntingdon,
in London. The union was a happy one. To the last moments of his life,
Ingham expressed the highest veneration and affection for his wife,
and was honoured with the intimate friendship of several of her noble
relatives. The marriage, in some aristocratic circles, was considered a
_mésalliance_, and furnished food for scandal in the fashionable world.
“The Methodists,” said the Countess of Hertford, “have had the honour
to convert my Lord and Lady Huntingdon, both to their doctrine and
practice; and the town now says, that Lady Margaret Hastings is certainly
to marry one of their teachers, whose name is Ingham.” “The news I hear
from London,” wrote Lady Mary Wortley Montague, from Rome, “is that Lady
Margaret Hastings has disposed of herself to a poor, wandering Methodist
preacher.” The higher classes of society indulged in ridicule; the poor
Moravians gave thanks to God, and prayed for the newly-wedded couple.
Ingham wrote to inform the Brethren of his marriage, and the Brethren
sang for him the hymn beginning—

    “Take their poor hearts, and let them be,
    For ever closed to all but Thee,” etc.

Ingham had enemies, some of them, as already shown extremely bitter; but
one of them, at least, was doubtless well pleased with Ingham’s marriage.
By this event, the Vicar of Dewsbury got rid of a neighbour who had
greatly troubled him; for Ingham now removed from Osset, the place of his
nativity, to Aberford, a village about five miles from Tadcaster, and
sixteen miles south-west of York; and here he continued to reside until
his death.

It has been already stated that, on July 30th, 1742, nine months after
his marriage, Ingham formally transferred his Yorkshire and Lancashire
societies, above fifty in number, to the Moravians; and, henceforward,
these societies were placed under the control of the Moravian ministerial
conclave at Smith House, near Halifax.

Besides these societies, however, Ingham was connected with others. A
great work had been wrought in the midland counties. The Rev. Jacob
Rogers, a clergyman of the Established Church, had preached with much
power and success at Bedford. Mr. Francis Okeley had assisted him; and
thither Ingham repaired, and preached several times in St. Paul’s
Church, to vast multitudes, who listened to him with profound attention.
The number of converts increased daily, and were formed into societies,
like those in Yorkshire. Being formed, the next point was how to manage
them. Ingham was consulted; and, by his advice they, also, were placed
under the care of Moravian ministers. This prepared the way for the
settlement of the United Brethren at Bedford, in 1745; and for the
erection of their chapel there in 1751.

By these arrangements, Ingham freed himself from an immense amount of
personal responsibility. His old friend, Wesley, was not only forming
societies, but ruling them. On the contrary, Ingham formed societies,
and left them to be ruled by others. By this means, Moravianism found
admission to the midland counties, and instituted a flourishing and
permanent Church in Yorkshire and the neighbourhood round about. Ingham
was left at liberty to be what he evidently liked,—an evangelist at
large. He was also helped by earnest co-adjutors. There were the Batty
Brothers,—Lawrence, William, and Christopher, of Catherine Hall,
Cambridge, sons of Mr. Giles Batty, a man of considerable respectability,
who resided at Newby Cote, near Settle. The three brothers were all
eloquent and popular preachers. Then there was John Nelson, the sturdy
Methodist, whom Ingham left behind at Birstal. Also David Taylor,
formerly footman to Lady Ingham,—a man who had been converted under
Ingham’s ministry, and who, notwithstanding certain vacillations, was
a great and successful preacher, and raised societies in Derbyshire,
Leicestershire, and in some parts of Lancashire and Yorkshire. Others
might be mentioned, if space permitted.

Ingham had no warmer friend than Whitefield, who watched the steps taken
by his old acquaintance with the utmost interest. The following letter
will not be considered out of place:—

                                           “LONDON, _May 6th, 1743_.

    “MY DEAR BROTHER,—Your very kind letter I had not the pleasure
    of receiving till yesterday. It was very acceptable, and knits
    my heart closer to you than ever. I love your honest soul,
    and long for that time when the disciples, of Christ, of
    different sects, shall be joined in far closer fellowship one
    with another. Our divisions have grieved my heart. I heartily
    approve of the meeting of the chief labourers together.

    “I am just returned from a circuit of about four hundred miles.
    I have been as far as Haverfordwest, and was enabled to preach
    with great power. Thousands and tens of thousands flocked
    to hear the word, and the souls of God’s children were much
    refreshed.

    “I am glad the Lord hath opened fresh doors for you, my dear
    brother. The rams’ horns are sounding about Jericho; surely
    the towering walls will at length fall down. But we must have
    patience. He that believeth doth not make haste. The rams’
    horns must go round seven times. Our divisions in England have
    the worst aspect, while they are now united in Wales; but even
    this shall work for good, and cause the Redeemer’s glory to
    shine more conspicuously. This is my comfort,—‘The government
    is upon His shoulders,’ and He is a ‘wonderful counsellor.’

    “But where am I running? Pardon me. I am writing to my dear Mr.
    Ingham. I rejoice in the expectation of seeing you in town. I
    hope to be in town at the time, and to enjoy some of our former
    happy seasons. In the mean while, I salute you from my inmost
    soul; and desire, as often as opportunity offers, a close
    correspondence may be kept up between you and, my dear brother,
    your most affectionate unworthy brother and servant,

                                                “GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Ingham was now one of the most influential members of the Moravian
Church, in England; and, accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. James Hutton, and
the Sisters, Esther Kinchin, Mary Bowes, and Martha Ireland, set out on
May 20th, 1743, to attend a Moravian Synod, to be held at Hirschberg, in
Germany, from the first to the twelfth of July inclusive. This important
Synod seems to have supervised the Moravian operations generally;
including not only the affairs of the English Churches, but those of the
Continent and Livonia, where fourteen hundred labourers of the Brethren
were employed in endeavouring to bring men to a knowledge of the truth as
it is in Jesus.

So far as the English community was concerned, it was determined:

    “That, the London Church should be regarded as a choir of
    labourers (distinct from the Society and its general meetings,
    etc.); each member of which was to consider him or herself as
    in preparation, by the Lord, for future service in any station,
    post, or office, to which He might call them.

    “That this Church, as a body of labourers, consisting of only a
    few souls who were wholly devoted to our Saviour, might enjoy
    all the privileges and discipline of a Church elsewhere, which
    the mere members of Society, by reason of their not dwelling
    together, could not enjoy.

    “That this Church should be in stillness, none knowing of it
    but such as were in it. (See Rev. ii. 17.) This London Church,
    also, should cleave to the Pilgrim Church, as the body to its
    soul.

    “The Pilgrim Church was described as a congregation of
    labourers who go hither and thither; whom no one knows but he
    to whom it is revealed.[103] Every one who has a whole mind to
    our Saviour, is a member of it. It is composed of persons who
    indissolubly cleave together, as a testimony in the Saviour’s
    wounds, against all who are unfaithful; witnesses whom the Lord
    will preserve in the hour of trial; souls who neither have nor
    desire any abiding city in this life, and who labour for the
    good of others among all religions, but never form themselves
    into a sect.

    “This Church is not the Moravian Church, but its servants,
    sojourning so long in it as the children and servants of God,
    or rather the spiritual Church of God, has freedom of action
    and is acknowledged. This relationship to the Moravian Church
    remains only so long as she herself abides faithful.

    “The connection between London and Yorkshire was thus defined:
    That London, as a choir of labourers (a small flock hidden
    as yet and acting quietly), should provide labourers for
    Yorkshire, and train up souls which were to be sent from
    Yorkshire for the purpose; Yorkshire being the county where
    our Saviour exhibited His Church openly, and where, for the
    present, the congregation of the Brethren should be settled.
    The London Church being private, was to have a particular
    connection with Yorkshire, and be, in a measure, dependent upon
    it, inasmuch as the chief elders were at this time there.”

The above are extracts from the Memoirs of James Hutton, at that period,
the chief of the London Moravians. It is difficult for an outsider to
understand and rightly interpret some of the expressions; but, upon the
whole, it appears, 1. That the chief settlement of the Moravians was
in Yorkshire; and, 2. That London was the training college of their
ministers.

It is a well-known fact, that 1744 was a year of great anxiety. England
was threatened with a French invasion, and with the unwelcome presence of
the Jacobite Pretender. A large number of loyal addresses were presented
to the king. Wesley wrote one on behalf of the Methodists, but his
brother Charles successfully objected to its presentation, because its
being sent, in the _name of the Methodists_, would constitute them a
sect, at least would _seem to allow_ that they were a body distinct from
the Church of England. The same difficulty was felt by the Moravians;
and, on April 23, a Conference of six persons met in London, respecting
the Address. Ingham went all the way from Yorkshire, to be present; and
seems to have been the presiding spirit. The Conference perceived that,
when so many addresses were being presented to the king, the Moravians
might be regarded with suspicion, unless they also presented one; but
the perplexity was how to designate the Moravian community. The Wesleys
were unwilling for the Methodists to be regarded as Dissenters from the
Church of England, and so were the Moravians. Brother Neisser, one of
the Conference, attempted to solve the difficulty by observing, that
“the English brethren, who had joined the Moravian Church, were not,
on that account, Dissenters from the English Church.” They had taken
such a step merely “to enjoy the blessed discipline of the Apostolic
Churches, which was wanting in the English Church.” This was a solution
scarcely sufficient to relieve the mind from doubt; but an address was
written; and, on April 27, Ingham Hutton, and Bell went to Court, and,
being admitted to the chamber of audience, Ingham delivered into the hand
of the king the document which had been prepared. His Majesty, smiling
graciously, accepted the same, and Ingham kissed his hand. The following
is an extract:—

    TO THE KING’S MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY.—The humble Address of his
    Majesty’s Protestant subjects, the United Brethren in England,
    in union with the ancient Protestant Episcopal Bohemian and
    Moravian Church:—

    “Presented to his Majesty by the Rev. Mr. Ingham, Mr. Hutton,
    Mr. Bell, Registrar of the said Congregation in London.

    “MOST GRACIOUS SOVEREIGN,—May it please your sacred Majesty
    graciously to accept this Address, which, with all humility, is
    presented by your Majesty’s most dutiful and loyal subjects,
    the United Brethren in England, in union with the Bohemian and
    Moravian Church.

    “We are, though despised and hated, and few in number, a
    happy people, consisting of persons out of several sects and
    parties of Protestants, who, from an earnest concern for our
    own salvation, and a zeal for the good of others, are united
    together; and, for the sake of her excellent discipline, are
    in union with the ancient Protestant Episcopal Bohemian and
    Moravian Church, one of the earliest witnesses against, and
    sufferers by, the Papists; a sister of the Church of England;
    their doctrines also, in the fundamental points, being the
    same.”

Having thus defined themselves, they then declare affectionate loyalty
to his “Majesty’s sacred person, family, and government;” and their
“abhorrence for Popery and Popish pretenders,”—and conclude thus:—

    “We, therefore, shall stand by your Majesty to the utmost of
    our power, and especially by our prayers, which are our only
    weapons.

    “May the Lord of hosts direct all your Majesty’s councils and
    undertakings, and turn the design of all your enemies into
    foolishness! The Lord our God be with you. Amen.

    “Presented in behalf of all the United Brethren in England,
    in union with the Bohemian and Moravian Church. April 27,
    1744.”[104]

This Address will help to define the position in which Ingham stood, with
reference to the Moravian Church and the Church of England.

There is another important fact belonging to the year 1744. For some
reason,—probably the disturbed state of the country,—the Brethren were
prohibited preaching in the open air; and, from this period, Ingham
relinquished all out-door services. In this, also, he differed from his
quondam friend Wesley, who, for forty-seven years afterwards, persisted
in “field-preaching.”

It has been already stated that Smith House, near Halifax, had been
made the head-quarters of the Moravian community in Yorkshire. This
took place about the year 1741. In 1743, Mr. Holmes, the proprietor of
the place, died; and, on account of his widow not being well-disposed
towards her peculiar tenants, the Brethren found it necessary to look
out for another and more permanent establishment. Just at this juncture,
Zinzendorf visited Yorkshire; and, one day, when climbing a mountain on
which Bank House, near Pudsey, stood, he had such a sweet feeling and
deep impression of the place, that he called it “_Lamb’s Hill_,” fully
believing, that, it would become the site of a Moravian settlement.
Strangely enough, the Hill soon afterwards was advertised for sale; in
1744, Ingham, at the request of a Moravian synod, bought it; and, on
the 10th of May, 1746, the foundation stone of “Grace Hall, at Lamb’s
Hill,” was laid amid great rejoicing. At six in the afternoon, the whole
congregation came together, and sang a hymn, after which, Toltschig
delivered an address. A letter was read from Lady Ingham, expressing
her great satisfaction in regard to the building of the Hall; the stone
was to have been laid by Ingham, but, being unexpectedly detained in
Lancashire, the office was performed by Toltschig, and the ceremonial
was concluded with singing songs of praise. The building was completed
in 1748; choir houses and schools were added; private dwellings were
erected; and a Moravian settlement was established, which, in 1763,
was called Fulneck, Ingham all the while being the proprietor of the
soil.[105] Wesley visited the place in 1747, and wrote:—

    “We walked to the new house of the Germans. It stands on the
    side of a hill, commanding all the vale beneath, and the
    opposite hill The front is exceeding grand, though plain,
    being faced with fine, smooth, white stone. The Germans
    suppose it will cost, by the time it is finished, about three
    thousand pounds: it is well if it be not nearer ten. But that
    is no concern to the English Brethren; for they are told (and
    potently believe), that ‘all the money will come from beyond
    the sea.’”

Thirty-three years after this, Wesley paid another visit. The following
extract, from his Journal, will show how Fulneck had increased:—

    “_1780. April 17._—I walked to Fulneck, the German settlement.
    Mr. Moore showed us the house, chapel, hall, lodging-rooms, the
    apartments of the widows, the single men, and single women.
    He showed us likewise the workshops of various kinds, with
    the shops for grocery, drapery, mercery, hardware, etc., with
    which, as well as with bread from their bakehouse, they furnish
    the adjacent country. I see not what but the mighty power of
    God can hinder them from acquiring millions; as they, 1. Buy
    all materials with ready money at the best hand; 2. Have above
    a hundred young men, above fifty young women, many widows, and
    above a hundred married persons; all of whom are employed from
    morning to night, without any intermission, in various kinds of
    manufactures, not for journeymen’s wages, but for no wages at
    all, save a little very plain food and raiment; as they have,
    3. A quick sale for all their goods, and sell them all for
    ready money. But can they lay up treasure on earth, and, at the
    same time, lay up treasure in heaven?”

This is not the place to write a history of Fulneck; but merely to show
Ingham’s connection with it.

It was about this period (1746), that Ingham and Grimshaw, of Haworth,
became acquainted; and once, and sometimes twice, a year, Grimshaw
preached throughout Ingham’s circuit. The Societies increased rapidly,
and spread, not only in Yorkshire, but also in Westmoreland, Cumberland,
Lancashire, Lincolnshire, Derbyshire, and Cheshire. General meetings of
the preachers and exhorters were held with frequency, several of which
were attended by the Countess of Huntingdon and Lady Margaret Ingham.
Grimshaw invariably attended these meetings, and always preached, never
troubling himself to ask the consent of the minister, or caring whether
he liked it or not. Sometimes the two itinerant clergymen met with
treatment far from pleasant.

As a specimen, the following may be given. Ingham, and Mr. Batty, one
of his preachers, had been several times to Colne, and had succeeded
in establishing a small society. Occasionally they were accompanied by
Grimshaw; and, in this instance, the three commenced a meeting by the
singing of a hymn. As soon as they begun, the Rev. George White, the
notorious vicar of Colne and Marsden, rushed into the house, staff in
hand, attended by the constable and a mob collected from the lowest and
most depraved people of the town. White sprang towards Batty with intent
to strike him. Ingham, perceiving the danger of his friend, instantly
pulled him out of the reach of his clerical assailant, and retired into
an adjoining room. The vicar and the constable threatened to put the
master of the house into the parochial stocks, and attempted to take
him away by force. The man demanded the constable’s authority; and the
official, finding that he had none, was obliged to release his prisoner.
White and his officer of the peace then insisted, that, Ingham and
Grimshaw should sign a paper, promising not to preach in the parish of
Colne during the next twelve months, under a penalty of fifty pounds.
The demand was met by a firm refusal; and now the “Captain-General,” as
White was designated, ordered the mob to lead away their captives. This
was done, and, on the way, every friend who attempted to speak to them
was abused and beaten. New proposals were made, that, Grimshaw and Ingham
should give a written promise not to preach at Colne for six months,
and then two; but without success. Magnanimously giving up the written
document, the mob asked a promise _upon their word and honour_; but this
proposal also was rejected. Finding it impossible to coerce the three
evangelists, the rioters let loose their vengeance. Ingham, Grimshaw, and
Batty were violently dragged along the road, with clubs brandished about
their heads. They were pelted with mud and dirt; and, with Ingham’s coat
torn and hanging on the ground, were conducted to the Swan Inn, there to
receive magisterial justice at the hands of the Rev. Mr. White.[106]

In 1747, the chief labourers, Ingham, Gambold, Hutton, and Okeley,
attended a Synod at Herrnhaag, in Germany. Many English affairs were
carefully considered, especially the history of the English congregations
since 1737, and the gradual separation of the Brethren’s labours from
those of the Methodists. The peculiar choir regulations were gradually
introduced into England. The Discourses of Zinzendorf, the Church Litany,
the Liturgies, the Common Prayers of the Brethren, and the Hymns of the
Day, were translated into English; and the more intimate the acquaintance
of the English Brethren became with German formularies, the more the
Methodistic element was banished from among them. The Brethren and
Methodists moved _alongside_ of each other; and, not unfrequently, there
was considerable flank-firing.

In July, 1748, Whitefield arrived in England, after an absence of nearly
four years. Ingham wrote to his old friend, who sent the following
affectionate reply:—

                                         “LONDON, _August 11, 1748_.

    “MY VERY DEAR MR. INGHAM,—Your kind letter, which I received
    but yesterday, having been taken a little tour in the country,
    both grieved and pleased me. Glad was I to find, that, my dear
    old friend had not forgotten me; and yet sorry, at it were,
    that, I had not written to him first. I was just going to put
    pen to paper, when yours was brought to my hands. I read it
    with joy; and now embrace the first opportunity of answering
    it with the greatest pleasure. These words concerning our Lord
    have always been weighty on my heart: ‘Having loved His own,
    He loved them unto the end.’ They, therefore, that are most
    like Him, will be most steady in their friendship, and not very
    readily given to change. O my dear sir, what has the Redeemer
    done for us since we used to take such sweet counsel together
    at Oxford! Blessed be His name for giving you a heart still to
    preach among poor sinners the unsearchable riches of Christ!
    May you go on and prosper, and, maugre all opposition, see
    Dagon fall everywhere before the ark! As for me, I am a poor
    worthless pilgrim, and thought long ere now to be with Him,
    who has loved and given Himself for me. But it seems, I am not
    yet to die, but live. Oh that it may be to declare the work
    of the Lord! I think, this is the thirteenth province I have
    been in within this twelve-month, in each of which our Lord has
    been pleased to set His seal to my unworthy ministry. I came
    from _Bermudas_ last, where I left many souls seeking after
    Jesus of Nazareth. In London, Bristol, Gloucester, and Wales,
    the glorious Emmanuel, since my arrival, has appeared to His
    people. In about a fortnight, I purpose leaving town again, in
    order to go a circuit of about five hundred miles. I need not
    desire you to pray for me: I need not tell you how glad I shall
    be, whenever opportunity offers, to see you face to face. In
    the meantime, let us correspond by letter. May Jesus bless it
    to us both! I return cordial respects to Lady Margaret. I pray
    the Lord to bless her and her little nursery. For the present,
    Adieu!

                 “I am, my dear Mr. Ingham, ever yours,

                                                “GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

In course of time, Whitefield came to Yorkshire; and Ingham and Batty
accompanied him throughout the county, and occasionally preached with
him. They were also his companions into Lancashire and Cheshire. He
preached four times at Aberford, the place of Ingham’s residence; and
everywhere immense crowds attended him. The tour was a triumphal one;
and, moreover, the two old Oxford friends were reunited. In one place,
Whitefield mounted a temporary scaffold to address the thousands who
stood before him; and, with a solemnity peculiarly his own, announced
his text,—“It is appointed unto men once to die; but after this the
judgment.” No sooner had the words escaped his lips, than a terrifying
shriek issued from the centre of the congregation. Grimshaw hurried to
the place where Whitefield stood, and shouted,—“Brother Whitefield, you
stand among the dead and dying,—an immortal soul has been called into
eternity,—the destroying angel is passing over the congregation,—cry
aloud and spare not.” A few moments elapsed, and Whitefield re-announced
his text; when another loud shriek was heard; a shriek which, in this
instance, came from the spot where the Countess of Huntingdon and Lady
Margaret Ingham were standing. A _second_ person had dropped down dead.
Consternation was general; but Whitefield proceeded with the service,
and, in a strain of tremendous eloquence, warned the wicked to flee from
the wrath to come.[107] Who can adequately conceive, and paint the scene
just mentioned? Whitefield on a platform,—thousands assembled before
him,—two in the midst of them, in an instant, struck with death,—the
Incumbent of Haworth rushing to the preacher with his irrepressible
exclamation,—and two noble ladies, with Ingham at their side, gazing at
the awful spectacle, their souls thrilled with feelings which no language
can describe. And yet, if not in regard to the death occurrences, in
point of solemn sublimity and religious grandeur, Whitefield’s life was
full of such scenic facts.

Mention has been made of Ingham and Whitefield becoming reunited.
During this same evangelistic tour, efforts were used to reunite Ingham
and his old friend Wesley. Seven years before, they had separated.
Both were intensely conscientious, and were actuated by the purest
religious motives; but their course of action was different. Ingham was
a Moravian: Wesley was a Methodist. The two designations were often
used synonymously; and yet their meanings were widely different. By
order of Zinzendorf, an advertisement had been published, in the _Daily
Advertiser_, declaring, that, the Moravians had no connection with the
Wesleys. Angry pamphlets, on both sides, had been issued; and angry
feelings, both among Moravians and Methodists, had been kindled. It
was hardly possible for Ingham and Wesley to live on the same terms of
intimate friendship as they had done at Oxford and in Georgia. There is
no evidence, that, they ever _quarrelled_; but they were undoubtedly
_estranged_. This was painful both to themselves and to a certain circle
of their friends; and, as above stated, means were used to reunite them.
Hence the following, extracted from a letter, addressed to Wesley, by the
Rev. Mr. Milner, Incumbent of Chipping, in Lancashire, who accompanied
Whitefield, Ingham, and Grimshaw in their glorious visits to Manchester,
Stockport, and other places:—

                                      “CHIPPING, _January 11, 1750_.

    “MY MOST DEAR AND REV. BROTHER, WHOM I LOVE IN THE TRUTH,—I
    have had twice the pleasure of seeing Mr. Ingham; and must
    say, there is a great deal of amiable sweetness in his whole
    behaviour. I have often and earnestly wished that he was
    disentangled from the Moravians, and cordially _one_ with you
    in promoting the interests of the gospel. The last time I saw
    him, he was employed in reconciling two of the Brethren, who
    had run great hazards and suffered much hardship in the service
    of the gospel. He allows you incomparably the preference for
    prudence; but says, you have not done the count” (Zinzendorf)
    “justice. He adds, that, he endeavoured to prevail with you not
    to publish the Difference;[108] and thought he had prevailed,
    till he heard that it was published;—and that he would
    gladly have been reconciled, and got Mr. W⸺d” (Whitefield)
    “to go from his house to N⸺e” (Newcastle), “to bring about a
    reconciliation; but you were not inclined to it,—‘the time
    being not yet come.’ At first, I looked upon the difference, as
    that betwixt Paul and Barnabas, which was a furtherance of the
    gospel of Christ; but since I knew more of the doctrine of the
    _still Brethren_, I have not had the same favourable opinion
    of them. Yet, I cannot help thinking, Mr. Ingham is happy. May
    some good Providence bring you speedily together! For, surely,
    such souls must glow with love at meeting, and all unkindness
    fly at first sight!”[109]

So far as it concerned Ingham, things were now coming to a crisis. For
about a dozen years, he had been a Moravian; but Moravianism, always
eccentric, was now becoming arrogant. Everything was carried on upon a
higher scale, both in diet and clothing, with a view to the benevolent
but impracticable design of abolishing the distinction between the
different stations in life. This, however, only tended to make persons
of low degree exalt themselves above their station in society, which,
in more respects than one, was really injurious. Then there was also a
season of trial, which is known in the Brethren’s Church, under the name
of ‘_the great sifting_,’—especially from 1745 to 1749. The Yorkshire
Diary of the Brethren, 1747-1749, speaks of “the _light and trifling
spirit_, which had crept into almost all the congregations, both in
doctrine and practice;” and joins “in thanksgiving to the Head of the
Church, who had caused a deep shame and contrition to take place in the
hearts of the true Brethren and Sisters.” In June, 1749, Zinzendorf
addressed a pompous letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, giving him
a catalogue of the Moravian Bishops, Administrators of Tropuses, and
Evangelics. He spoke of himself as, “Lewis, by Divine Providence, Bishop,
Liturgus, and Ordinary of the Churches known by the name of the Brethren;
and, under the auspices of the same, Advocate during life, with full
power over the hierarchy of the Slavonic Unity, Custos rotulorum, and
Prolocutor both of the general Synod, and of the Tropus of Instruction.”
In a postscript, he made a characteristic attack on Sherlock, Bishop of
London, as follows:—

    “P.S. The Bishop of London has acted wrongfully and most
    injudiciously for the interest of his own Church; inasmuch, as
    he has not only declined intercourse with the Brethren, but
    likewise communicated a private decision to a certain Deacon
    of our Church. He has sinned against the first principles of
    uprightness, equity, and prudence; and, by doing so, has done
    dishonour to the ecclesiastical order. It is not your part
    to threaten and to act insolently, but cautiously; for your
    interest, and not ours, is concerned.

                                 “LEWIS, Bishop, with his own hand.”

To say the least, this was hardly modest, on the part of a foreigner,
when addressed to the highest dignitary of the English Church. It is also
noticeable, that, in the list of Bishops, Administrators of Tropuses,
Evangelics, and Primary Ministers, sent to his Grace of Canterbury, the
name of Ingham is not included. Why was this?

Further,—a new “Church Litany,” of great length, and curious
construction, had been published, and was now in use in the Congregations
of the Brethren. Lindsey House, in Chelsea, was bought of Sir Hans
Sloane; and, at a great expense, was converted into the head-quarters of
English Moravianism. Zinzendorf was the pope of the English Brotherhood.
All bishops and elders were subordinate to him; and, under the name
“Papa,” he was exclusively the ruler of their Church. He caused to be
published a Hymn-book, in two volumes; the second of which was filled
with doggerel of the worst description. He had had the effrontery to ask
the English Parliament to pass an Act, not only recognising the _Unitas
Fratrum_ as an ancient Protestant Episcopal Church; but also exempting
them from taking oaths; from being summoned as jurymen; and, in the
American colonies, from being called upon to engage in military service.
Marvellous to relate, all this was granted; but one demand of the
Moravian “Papa” was rejected. He asked for power to be vested in himself,
to enjoin upon the bishops and ministers of the Church of England to give
certificates, that, the parties holding them, were members of the _Unitas
Fratrum_; and, therefore, entitled to the exemptions specified. The Lord
Chancellor objected to this putting of the prelates and clergy of the
Established Church beneath the power of a foreign count. “Against the
will of the king,” exclaimed this modest man; “I would not like to press
the matter; but a _limitation of the Act_ I will not accept. Everything
or nothing. No modifications.” This was German rodomontade; for, rather
than lose his Bill, he relinquished his claim to be empowered to coerce
the bishops and clergy of the English Church to grant the certificates.
The Act of Parliament was passed on the 12th of May, 1749. A few months
afterwards, Zinzendorf published a folio volume, entitled “Acta Fratrum
in Angliâ,” and containing, besides the Moravian public negotiations in
England, an exposition of the Moravian doctrine, liturgy, etc. The book
was full of repulsive jargon; and the less that is said respecting it the
better.

Besides all this, an enormous debt had been contracted. A crop of
lawsuits sprung up. Zinzendorf and others were in danger of arrest.
Bankruptcy was imminent; disgrace was great; and scandals of all kinds
were rife. Henry Rimius, “Aulic Counsellor to his late Majesty the
King of Prussia,” published an octavo pamphlet of 177 pages, in which
Zinzendorf was accused of flagrant falsehood. Wesley read the pamphlet
as soon as it was printed; and wrote, “I still think several of the
inconsiderable members of that” (Moravian) “community, are upright; but I
fear their governors wax worse and worse,—having their conscience seared
as with a hot iron.”

Whitefield, in 1753, published “An Expostulatory Letter, addressed
to Nicholas Lewis, Count Zinzendorf, and Lord Advocate of the Unitas
Fratrum,” in which he charges Zinzendorf and his friends with “Misguiding
many honest-hearted Christians; with distressing, if not ruining,
numerous families; and with introducing a whole farrago of superstitious,
not to say idolatrous, fopperies into the English nation.”

Another pamphlet was published, at the same time, and created
considerable excitement. Its long title will suggest an idea of its
contents. “A true and authentic Account of Andrew Frey: containing
the occasion of his coming among the Hernhutters, or Moravians; his
Observations on their Conferences, Casting Lots, Marriages, Festivals,
Merriments, Celebrations of Birth-Days, impious Doctrines, and
fantastical Practices, Abuse of charitable Contributions, linen Images,
ostentatious Profuseness, and Rancour against any who in the least differ
from them; and the Reasons for which he left them; together with the
Motives for publishing this Account. Faithfully transcribed from the
German.”

Wesley writes,—

    “_1753, November 3rd._ I read over Andrew Frey’s reasons for
    leaving the Brethren. Most of what he says, I knew before; yet,
    I cannot speak of them in the manner in which he does; I pity
    them too much to be bitter against them.”

It would not be pleasant to enter into further details. Enough has been
said to show that, Ingham had sufficient reasons to sever his connections
with the Moravians. He had found the money for the purchase of the land
about Grace Hall (Fulneck); and, in 1753, asked for the repayment; but
money was not forthcoming, and he agreed to receive a yearly rental of
£30 instead of it.[110]

The particulars of Ingham’s separation from the Moravian community have
not been published; but he now formed a circuit of his own of about five
hundred miles, and had several thousand followers. Members were received
by laying on of hands; they had elders; and the feast of charity; and the
Lord’s Supper once a month.

Ingham was the chief of the new sect in Yorkshire and the neighbouring
counties. One of his principal co-workers was Mr. J. Allen; who, in 1752,
and when only eighteen years of age, became a preacher in the Inghamite
connexion. Allen was the eldest son of Oswald Allen, Esq., of Gayle,
in the county of York. His father intended him for the ministry in the
Established Church, and placed him under the care of a clergyman, whose
inconsistency of conduct seems to have shocked his pupil, and to have
made him doubt the propriety of entering into holy orders. In 1748, he
was sent to Scorton School, near Richmond, in Yorkshire, conducted by
the Rev. Mr. Noble. In the year following, he had the opportunity of
hearing Ingham preach, and was converted. In 1751, he was admitted into
St. John’s College, Cambridge; and, a year afterwards, as already stated,
began himself to preach. For many years, he was one of the most useful
and popular preachers in Ingham’s connexion; and his conduct throughout
life was becoming a minister of Christ.[111]

Besides Allen, the three Battys, already mentioned, Lawrence, William,
and Christopher,—Ingham’s other coadjutors were Hunter and Brogden, both
of whom had been in the British army; also James Hartley, Richard Smith,
and James Crossley, all of whom had been awakened under the thundering
preaching of Grimshaw, the Incumbent of Haworth; and the first and second
of whom ultimately became pastors of Baptist congregations; and the
third, a minister of an Independent Church at Bradford. Mr. Molesworth,
likewise, of Thornhill, and Mr. Fleetwood Churchill, gentlemen descended
from families of rank, and moving in the upper ranks of life, were
faithful fellow-labourers. All these were earnest evangelists, and
most of them suffered serious persecution for the Word of God, and the
testimony which they held.[112]

Ingham’s separation from the Moravians altered his relationship to the
Methodists; and, at Wesley’s Conference, held in 1753, it was asked,
“Can we unite, if it be desired, with Mr. Ingham?—_Answer_: We may now
behave to him with all tenderness and love, and unite with him when he
returns to the Old Methodist doctrine.”[113] Two years after this, Wesley
held his yearly Conference at Leeds; and Ingham summoned several of his
preachers to meet him there for the purpose of attending the Conferential
sittings. Wesley admitted Ingham; but his coadjutors were excluded. Was
it Ingham’s wish to amalgamate his Societies and preachers with the
Methodists? This is a question, we cannot answer. One matter, however,
was discussed in which Ingham, as an ordained Clergyman of the Church of
England, must have felt interest. Wesley writes:—

    “The point on which we desired all the preachers to speak their
    minds at large was, ‘Whether we ought to separate from the
    Church?’ Whatever was advanced, on one side or the other, was
    seriously and calmly considered; and, on the third day, we were
    all fully agreed in that general conclusion,—that, whether it
    was lawful or not, it was not expedient.”[114]

Supposing that Ingham wished for an amalgamation, this was a decisive
answer to his proposal, for already Ingham had separated from the
Church, not only by the formation of societies and the employment of
lay preachers, but also, and especially, by the institution of separate
sacramental services.

Some time after the Conference at Leeds, Ingham went to Derbyshire
and Lincolnshire, and thence to Ashby, on a visit to Lady Huntingdon.
During his stay, he preached frequently, at her ladyship’s and in the
neighbourhood, to large congregations. On his return to Yorkshire, the
Countess accompanied him, and visited most of his northern societies.

Whilst she was in Yorkshire, a conference of his preachers was held at
Winewall, when, as at Wesley’s first Conference, in 1744, doctrine and
discipline were discussed.

In reference to _Doctrine_, it was agreed:—1. That Justification consists
in the forgiveness of sins, and an imputation of Christ’s righteousness;
and, that, the instrumental cause of this is faith in Christ. 2. That,
sanctification consists, not in holy actions, but, in the divine
life, new heart and spirit, which are given by Jesus Christ at our
justification; and love, joy, and peace, and all the graces or fruits of
the Spirit. 3. That, all good works spring from this, as fruit from a
tree.

With regard to _Church Government_, it was resolved, That, there should
be a _general overseer_, chosen and appointed by the Trustees and by the
consent of the Societies.

As was natural, Ingham was set apart to this office; and he proceeded to
elect one of the Batty brothers and Mr. Allen, as fellow-helpers; who,
after giving an account of their conversion and call to the ministry,
and, being examined respecting the doctrines they had preached, and
intended to preach in future, were then and there solemnly ordained, by
the laying on of Ingham’s hands, and prayer.

In this respect, Ingham was far ahead of his old friend Wesley; for it
was not till twenty-eight years after this, that Wesley assumed episcopal
functions, by ordaining two of his preachers for America.

From this period, Lady Huntingdon used to call Ingham a _Bishop_; and,
in doing so, her ladyship was not seriously wrong. There can be little
doubt, that, Ingham, like Wesley, held the opinion, that, “bishops and
presbyters are the same order, and consequently have the same right to
ordain”; and, assuming this to be correct, there can be no question,
that, he, being an acknowledged Presbyter of the Church of England, was
also a Bishop.

But to let that pass. Lady Huntingdon, though on the most friendly terms
with Ingham, was very far from being satisfied with several of the rules
of the Inghamite Societies; and, hence, whilst a visitor at Ingham’s
house at Aberford, she conferred with him respecting an amalgamation with
the Methodists. Whitefield proceeded to Newcastle-on-Tyne, where, it is
said, he met the two Wesleys, and was commissioned by Ingham to offer
them his house at Aberford, for the purpose of discussing the subject.
Charles Wesley readily assented; but his brother as decidedly objected;
and, from that time forth, no further steps were taken to effect a union
with the Methodists.

Charles Wesley became an ardent friend and advocate of Ingham. Hence the
following extracts from his journal:—

    “_1756, October 1st._—I had an opportunity of vindicating my
    old friend, Benjamin Ingham. It is hard a man should be hanged
    for his looks,—for the _appearance_ of Moravianism. Their
    spirit and practices he has as utterly renounced as we have:
    their manner and phrase cannot as soon be shaken off.”

Again:—

    “_1756, October 7th._—I rode on to Aberford. My old friend, Mr.
    Ingham, was labouring in the vineyard; but I had the happiness
    to find Lady Margaret at home, and their son Ignatius. She
    informed me, that, his round takes in about four hundred
    miles; that, he has six fellow-labourers, and one thousand
    souls in his Societies, most of them, converted. I sincerely
    rejoiced in his success. Ignatius was hardly pacified at my not
    preaching. We passed an hour and a half very profitably, and
    set out again.”

The Rev. William Romaine, also, became one of Ingham’s frequent visitors,
and was received by him and Lady Margaret with every mark of respect and
affectionate attention. Indeed, at a period when Romaine’s stipend was
quite inadequate to provide sustenance for his family, his necessities
were often liberally met by Lady Ingham’s bounty. Ingham sometimes
accompanied him in his preaching excursions into several parts of the
county of Durham; Romaine preaching wherever he obtained a church, and
Ingham in the Methodist Chapels and private houses. Long after this,
Romaine remarked in reference to Ingham’s societies,—

    “If ever there was a Church of Christ upon earth, that was one.
    I paid them a visit, and had a great mind to join them. There
    was a blessed work of God among that people, till that horrid
    blast from the north came upon them and destroyed all.”

This horrid northern blast must be explained. In 1755, Hervey published
his “Theron and Aspasio,” in three octavo volumes. In 1757, Robert
Sandeman issued an elaborate reply, in two volumes octavo, entitled,
“Letters on Theron and Aspasio, addressed to the Author of that Work.”
Very erroneous were some of the views of Sandeman, but, all who have read
his publication must admit that he was a man of considerable ability. His
work, however, was blemished, not only by heterodox expositions of holy
Scripture, but by severe attacks on the chief evangelical preachers and
authors of the day. A furious controversy succeeded; and a large number
of pamphlets and tracts bearing on the subject were printed. Sandeman’s
volumes themselves were in great demand, and, in less than five years,
three editions of them were published. His principal doctrine, from which
all his other erroneous teachings sprang, was his doctrine of Christian
faith. Hervey, Whitefield, Erskine, and others, substantially acquiesced
in Wesley’s definition, namely, “Christian faith is not only an assent
to the whole gospel of Christ, but also a full reliance on the blood
of Christ; a trust in the merits of His life, death, and resurrection;
a recumbency on Him as our atonement and our life, _as given for us,
and living in us_.” Perhaps it would sound less sectarian to say, that
the whole of these distinguished men held the doctrine of the Homilies
of the Church of England: “The right and true Christian faith is, not
only to believe, that holy Scripture and the articles of our faith are
true, but also, to have a sure trust and confidence, to be saved from
everlasting damnation by Christ; whereof doth follow a loving heart to
obey His commandments.” Or, again; a man’s “sure trust and confidence
in God, that, by the merits of Christ, his sins are forgiven, and he
reconciled to the favour of God.” “Three things must go together in
our justification. Upon God’s part, His great mercy and grace; upon
Christ’s part, the satisfaction of God’s justice, by the offering His
body and shedding His blood, with fulfilling the law perfectly and
thoroughly; and upon our part, true and lively faith in the merits of
Jesus Christ. So that, in our justification, there is not only God’s
mercy and grace, but His justice also. And so the grace of God doth
not shut out the righteousness of God in our justification; but only
shutteth out the righteousness of man; that is to say, the righteousness
of our works. And, therefore, St. Paul declareth nothing on the behalf
of man concerning his justification, but only a true and living faith,
which itself is the gift of God. And yet that faith doth not shut out
repentance, hope, love, and the fear of God, to be joined with faith in
every man that is justified. But it shutteth them out from the office of
justifying. So that although they be all present together in him that is
justified; yet they justify not altogether.” (_Homilies of the Church of
England._)

Sandeman’s views were widely different, as a few extracts from his book
will show:—

    “Every doctrine which teaches us to do, or endeavour any thing
    toward our acceptance with God, stands opposed to the doctrine
    of the Apostles; which, instead of directing us what to do,
    sets before us all that the most disquieted conscience can
    require, in order to acceptance with God, as already done and
    finished by Jesus Christ. What Christ has done, is that which
    pleases God; what He hath done, is that which quiets the guilty
    conscience of man as soon as he knows it; so that, whenever
    he hears of it, he has no occasion for any other question but
    this, ‘Is it true or not?’ If he finds it true, he is happy;
    if not, he can reap no comfort by it. If, then, we slight the
    comfort arising from the bare persuasion of this, it must be
    owing, at bottom, to our slighting this bare truth, and to
    our slighting the bare work of Christ, and our considering it
    as too narrow a foundation whereon to rest the whole of our
    acceptance with God.” (Vol. i., p. 17.)

    “Whatever doctrine teaches us to think, that our acceptance
    with God is begun by our own good endeavours, seconded by
    Divine aid, or even first prompted by the Divine influence,
    leads us to look for acceptance with God by our own
    righteousness; for whatever I do, however assisted or prompted,
    is still my own work. Aspasio tells us, ‘Faith is a real
    persuasion that Christ died _for me_.’ This account of faith
    somewhat resembles the arch of a bridge thrown over a river,
    having the one end settled on a rock, and the other on sand or
    mud. That Christ died, is indeed a truth fully ascertained in
    the Scriptures; that Christ died _for me_, is a point not so
    easily settled. This is a point which the Scripture nowhere
    ascertains; so far from it, that it often affirms the final
    perdition of many, not merely hearers of the gospel, but who
    have heard and received it with joy; yea of those who have made
    such progress, that their only deficiency is, that their fruit
    came not to perfection.” (Ibid. p. 20.)

    “Men are justified by the knowledge of a righteousness finished
    in the days of Tiberius; and this knowledge operates upon them,
    and leads them to work righteousness.” (Vol. ii., p. 190.)

    “The change made upon a man by the gospel, is called
    _repentance unto life_,—a change of a man’s mind to love the
    truth, which always carries in it a sense of shame and regret
    at his former opposition to it.” (Ibid. p. 193.)

    “No man can be assured, that his sins are forgiven him, but
    in as far as he is freed from the service of sin, and led to
    work righteousness; for the favour of God can only be enjoyed
    in studying to do those things which are well pleasing in His
    sight.” (Ibid. p. 194.)

    “When once the saving truth is admitted in the conscience of
    any man, it becomes, as it were, a new _instinct_ in him,
    encouraging him to draw near to God, providing him with an
    answer to the condemning voice of the law, which haunted his
    conscience before, and opposing the natural pride of his heart,
    in the exercise of which he formerly lived. By this instinct,
    he is led to desire ‘the sincere milk of the word, that he may
    grow thereby.’ And he arrives at the proper consciousness and
    enjoyment of life, when he comes to full age, and, _by reason
    of use, has his senses exercised to discern both good and
    evil_.” (Ibid. p. 200.)

    “If, notwithstanding our natural bias against the gospel, our
    heart condemn us not, as destitute of love to that truth which
    the world hates, then have we confidence toward God, even as
    much confidence as the testimony of our own conscience can give
    us. Yet this is but one witness, and needs to be supported.
    Here then the Spirit of the truth gives His testimony, as a
    second witness supporting the former. And this He does, by
    shedding abroad in the heart, such an abundant sense of the
    divine love as casts out the anxious fear of coming short of
    life everlasting. Thus, that love to the truth, which formerly
    wrought in the way of painful desire, attended with many fears,
    is perfected, by being crowned with the highest enjoyment it is
    capable of in this mortal state.” (Ibid. p. 203.)

    “Perhaps it may be thought needful, that I should define what I
    mean by the _popular doctrine_; especially as I have considered
    many as preachers thereof, who differ remarkably from each
    other; and particularly as I have ranked amongst them Mr.
    Wesley, who may justly be reckoned one of the most virulent
    reproachers of God that this island has produced. I consider
    all those as teachers of the _popular doctrine_, who seek to
    have credit and influence among the people, by resting our
    acceptance with God, not simply on _what Christ hath done_,
    but more or less on _the use we make of Him_, and the advance
    we make toward Him, or some secret desire, wish, or sigh to
    do so; or on something we feel or do concerning Him, by the
    assistance of some kind of grace or spirit; or, lastly, on
    something we employ Him to do, or suppose He is yet to do for
    us. In sum, all who would have us to be conscious of something
    else than the bare truth of the gospel; all who would have us
    to be conscious of some beginning of a change to the better; or
    some desire, however faint, toward such change, in order to our
    acceptance with God.” (Ibid. p. 300.)

Perhaps, the reader has had enough of the misty dogmas of Robert
Sandeman. The foregoing extracts contain the kernel of his heresy. By
the obedience and sufferings of Christ, a number of persons, the elect,
are accepted or justified of God. The gospel declares this. It is the
sinner’s privilege and duty to believe this general statement;—not to
_believe on_ Christ as _his_ Saviour (for he has no authority to do
that), but simply to become persuaded of the truthfulness of the gospel’s
general declaration, that a select number are accepted of God, solely and
entirely, because of the finished work of Christ. This persuasion, in the
course of time, and in the case of the accepted persons, produces what
Sandeman calls _repentance unto life_. For a season, they have “anxious
fears of coming short of everlasting life.” Their love to the truth works
“in the way of painful desire, attended with many fears.” At length,
however, they attain to such a state, that their conscience testifies,
they are “not destitute of love to that truth which the world hates;” and
now “the Spirit of the truth gives His testimony, as a second witness,
by shedding abroad in the heart such an abundant sense of the divine
love, as perfects their love to the truth, and crowns it with the highest
enjoyment it is capable of in this mortal state.”

This, in brief, was Sandeman’s way of salvation—a huge heresy tagged
to the glorious truth, that man is accepted of God solely through the
meritorious work and sufferings of Christ. This is not the place for its
refutation. Suffice it to remark, that, in 1759, Ingham read Sandeman’s
“Letters on Theron and Aspasio,” and also Glass’s “Testimony of the
King of Martyrs;” and that this was the means of bringing upon Ingham’s
societies the “horrid blast from the north,” so strongly deprecated by
the Rev. William Romaine.

The Rev. John Glass, about the year 1728, had been expelled from the
established Church of Scotland, and had formed a number of Churches
conformable, in their institution and discipline, to what he apprehended
to be the plan of the first Churches of Christianity. Sandeman was
an elder in one of these Churches. The chief practices in which they
differed from others were:—their weekly administration of the Lord’s
Supper; their love feasts, of which every member was not only allowed,
but required to partake, and which consisted in their dining together at
each other’s houses in the interval between the morning and afternoon
services; their kiss of charity, used on this occasion, at the admission
of a new member, and at other times, when they deemed it to be necessary
or proper; their weekly collection before the Lord’s Supper, for the
support of the poor, and defraying other expenses; mutual exhortation;
abstinence from blood and things strangled; washing each other’s feet,
the precept concerning which, as well as other precepts, they understood
literally; community of goods, so far as that every one was to consider
all that he had in his possession and power as liable to the calls of the
poor and the Church; and unlawfulness of laying up treasures on earth, by
setting them apart for any distant future, or uncertain use; the allowing
of public and private diversions so far as they were not connected
with circumstances really sinful; and the employment of a plurality of
elders, pastors, or bishops, in each Church, and the necessity of the
presence of two elders in every act of discipline, but the administration
of the Lord’s Supper. In the choice of these elders, want of learning,
and engagements in trade, were not regarded as disqualifications for
office, but a second marriage was. The elders were ordained by prayer and
fasting, imposition of hands, and giving the right hand of fellowship. In
their discipline, they were strict and severe, and thought themselves
obliged to separate from the communion of all such religious societies
as appeared to them not to profess the simple truth to be their only
ground of hope, and who did not walk in obedience to it. In every Church
transaction, also, they esteemed unanimity to be absolutely necessary.

Such were the Glassites or Sandemanians more than a hundred years
ago. In an evil hour, after reading the publications of Glass and
Sandeman, Ingham sent his fellow-helpers, Mr. Batty and Mr. Allen,
_privately_ to Scotland, for the purpose of acquiring more distinct
and detailed information respecting this Scottish sect. At Edinburgh,
they were introduced to Sandeman; and at Dundee, to Glass; and returned
to Yorkshire thoroughly converted to the Sandemanian theology and
discipline. Warm debates took place in Ingham’s societies respecting the
nature of a _true_ Church, and respecting their former views of religious
experience. Many became jealous of the authority which Ingham exercised;
but he steadfastly adhered to the validity of his commission as general
overseer, and wished the dissatisfied to withdraw. Frequent attempts
were made to reconcile the two contending parties: the Countess of
Huntingdon wrote letters; Romaine paid a personal visit; and Whitefield
prayed and wept; but all was ineffectual. Disputes without end arose;
excommunications followed; and thus the great work over which Ingham had
most religiously watched, was nearly wrecked. Out of upwards of eighty
flourishing Churches, only thirteen remained under Ingham’s care. This
was probably the severest trial of his life, and was one from the effects
of which he never afterwards recovered.[115] It would be incorrect and
uncharitable to assert, that, all who were excommunicated or seceded,
ceased to be Christians. Dr. Stevens says, “many of them were merged in
the Wesleyan or Dissenting bodies, especially in the class of Scotch
Presbyterians called Daleites.”[116] Mr. Allen formed a number of them
into a separate Church, and officiated as their pastor until his death,
in 1804. The Messrs. Batty also continued to preach; and, in 1761,
published, at Kendal, a Hymn Book of 136 pp., entitled, “A Collection of
Hymns for the Use of those that seek, and those that have, Redemption in
the Blood of Christ.” Many of the hymns are thorough doggerel. Some other
of the seceding preachers also “remained useful men; and the disaster was
much relieved by the consideration that Wesleyan Methodism took general
possession of Yorkshire, and by the fact, that two Methodist orders were
hardly necessary at the time of Ingham’s failure.”

Efforts were not wanting to conserve and perpetuate the work. In
September, 1760, Lady Huntingdon and the Rev. William Romaine joined
Ingham, at a general meeting of his societies, held at Wheatley, when the
choice of Church officers was determined by lot. They also visited, in
company, several of the brotherhoods in Yorkshire and Lancashire, Ingham
and Romaine preaching alternately, almost every day. At Thinoaks, in
Craven, where they remained several days, there was a large assemblage
of people, and two elders were ordained. There, also, it was agreed to
recommend to the different societies in the connexion to make collections
every Sabbath; and the following circular was issued:—

    “DEAR BRETHREN,—Being mindful of the words of the Apostle
    Paul, we have determined to recommend to our Societies to have
    voluntary collections on the first day of the week, to defray
    all expenses relative to the preachers, meetings, etc., etc.
    Farewell!”

Nothing more need be said of this unhappy schism, except quoting a
sentence from Wesley’s sermon, preached at the laying of the foundation
stone of City Road Chapel, in 1777. With an undoubted reference to
Ingham, he remarked:—

    “Nearly twenty years ago, immediately after solemn consultation
    on the subject, a clergyman, who had heard the whole, said,
    with great earnestness, ‘In the name of God, let nothing move
    you to recede from this resolution. God is with you for a
    truth; and so He will be, while you continue in the Church; but
    whenever the Methodists leave the Church, God will leave them.’
    Lord, what is man! In a few months after, Mr. Ingham himself
    left the Church, and turned all the societies under his care
    into congregations of Independents. And what was the event? The
    same that he had foretold! They swiftly mouldered into nothing.”

Unlike his friend Wesley, Ingham made but little use of the
printing-press. In 1748, he published a Hymn Book, of 96 pp., 12mo, with
the title, “A Collection of Hymns for Societies. Leeds: Printed by James
Lister, 1748.” The book, now extremely scarce, contains eighty-eight
hymns; five of which are translations from the German, by John Wesley;
fifteen are by Watts; five by Cennick; and three by Charles Wesley. How
many Ingham himself contributed is not known. The following serves as a
sort of Preface:—

    “In singing, two things ought to be regarded. The one is to
    sing in outward harmony, keeping the tune; and, if we do not
    understand it, ’tis better to be silent and hear others, or
    to sing low and after others, that we may not make a discord,
    which is disagreeable, and causes confusion; and, in general,
    it is not well to sing so very high and loud. But the other and
    more material thing to be regarded is, seriously to mind what
    we are about,—to be present with our thoughts,—to meditate upon
    the matter; and, above all, to sing with grace in the heart to
    the Lord. This makes singing sweet and heavenly; and, without
    this, our singing can neither be edifying to ourselves nor to
    others.”

Ingham’s only other publication was a small volume, entitled, “A
Discourse on the Faith and Hope of the Gospel. Leedes: Printed for the
Author, by Griffith Wright, 1763.” 12mo, 207 pp.

This, though a small, was an important book, for it contained the views
of Ingham, on the chief doctrines of the Christian religion, immediately
after he had read the works of Glass and Sandeman. There can be no
question, that, he substantially embraced the dogmas which they had so
boldly propounded. The following extracts are confirmative of this. The
reader will excuse the length of them, on the ground, that they exhibit
the principal articles of Ingham’s creed towards the close of life. The
book is pervaded by a fine Christian spirit; and, here and there, almost
waxes eloquent.

    “Every true and real minister of Jesus Christ hath a divine
    commission, or is sent of God.” (Preface.)

    “I believe, that the whole counsel of God to the Church is
    faithfully recorded in the holy Scriptures.” (Ibid.)

    “I believe no servant of Christ hath now any new revelation
    to deliver; but, I also believe, that no man can clearly
    comprehend or truly understand the holy Scriptures without
    the illumination of the Holy Ghost. Yet, the Holy Ghost
    neither revealeth, teacheth, impresseth, or applieth anything
    to any person now, but what is either expressly written, or
    is agreeable to the analogy of faith delivered, in the holy
    Scriptures.” (Ibid.)

    “It is my opinion, that, both the doctrine and also the
    very words of Scripture, in the languages wherein they were
    originally written, were inspired by the Holy Ghost. The
    translation of the Holy Scriptures into the modern tongues
    hath been a great blessing, and of very great use to the cause
    of Christianity. Yet, men of learning, who have studied the
    originals, know that some places are falsely translated, and
    others weakly and lamely. It would be well worth the labour of
    all the learned men in every nation to conspire together to
    publish an accurate translation.” (p. 5.)

    “To believe a thing meaneth to assent to, and credit it as
    true. To believe _in_ a thing meaneth to confide or trust in
    it, to rely or depend on it.” (p. 6.)

    “The faith of the Gospel is the believing of God’s testimony
    concerning Christ and His righteousness, and believing in Jesus
    Christ and His most perfect and Divine righteousness, as the
    only sure ground of the hope of eternal life.” (p. 9.)

    “Sinners are neither justified for their own believing, nor
    their own obeying, nor for both together; neither for the
    truth or sincerity of their believing, or any act of faith,
    nor anything they have done, can do, or ever will do. Neither
    are they justified for anything wherein they differ from
    others, or excel others, nor for anything done or wrought in
    them, or received by them; for the whole and sole cause of the
    justification of sinners is the active and passive obedience of
    Jesus Christ, called the righteousness of God, ‘which is unto
    all and upon all them that that believe.’” (p. 13.)

    “This work of Christ,—His most perfect and divine
    righteousness,—His obedience in all things, and even unto
    death, is the whole and sole cause of the salvation of
    sinners. There needeth no other requisite, neither less nor
    more, neither little nor great. This alone is complete and
    all-sufficient.” (p. 35.)

    “Yet, the generality of men lay the greatest stress upon
    something else. And even those who lay some stress upon it more
    or less connect something else with it, whereon they also lay
    some stress, more or less. So that they do not believe that
    God is well and fully pleased with the work of Christ, as alone
    sufficient for salvation without anything else at all; but that
    God is placable, or willing to come to terms with them, upon
    condition that they themselves first perform those other things
    which they think necessary, either in whole or in part, as
    preliminaries to make peace with God.” (p. 39.)

    “If any should object, and say, that the Lord Jesus and the
    apostles connected repentance with faith and remission of sins,
    I allow it. Repentance and faith are duties required by the
    gospel, because God commandeth all men everywhere to repent
    and believe the gospel. It is man’s duty to do whatever God
    commandeth.” (p. 40.)

    “Repentance to life is the change made upon the mind by the
    gospel, when a man is turned from darkness to light, and
    from the power of Satan unto God. His understanding being
    enlightened, he ceases to work for acceptance; he turns to God,
    believing that He is well pleased in His beloved Son. This
    repentance, as well as faith, is the gift of God. And they are
    both given at the same time.” (p. 40.)

    “Some modern divines have defined faith to be _a confidence
    that Christ loved me and gave Himself for me_; but this is not
    the faith of the gospel, though it hath passed current for it
    with many for a long time. It must indeed be granted that, if
    a person can say that Christ hath loved him and given Himself
    for him, upon as good ground as the Apostle Paul said it of
    himself, he is a true believer. Yet it is presumed that many
    believe the gospel and will be saved, who neither can, in
    truth, nor dare say this.” (p. 42.)

    “No one hath the assurance of his eternal salvation upon his
    first believing the gospel, or can have it, till his faith hath
    wrought some time, more or less, by love. No man can be assured
    that he shall be eternally saved without any possibility of
    falling away, but by the sealing, witness, or testimony of the
    Holy Ghost. But that no one is sealed by the Spirit upon his
    first believing the gospel is proved by Ephesians i. 13.” (p.
    43.)

    “Those, who have the faith of the gospel, have not obtained it
    by their own labour, or by any acts exerted by their own minds;
    but it hath been, freely given to them from above, by Him who
    of His own will begetteth His people with the word of truth.
    So that it is as easy to believe in the gospel, when Christ is
    revealed to any person, as it is to see or hear, when a man
    hath eyes and ears.” (p. 60.)

    “The faith of the gospel is a working faith. Justification and
    sanctification are inseparably connected together.” (p. 90.)

    “All true believers are sanctified, but they are not equally
    sanctified; for there are children, young men, and fathers
    in Christ. They are sanctified in all the faculties of their
    souls, but not completely sanctified as yet in any one of
    them.” (p. 138.)

    “Some argue, _that God, in the word of the gospel, maketh an
    offer of Christ and His righteousness, as a free gift, to all
    indefinitely who hear the gospel; and also promiseth remission
    of sins and eternal life; and, further, that God’s word is a
    sufficient warrant to every one to lay claim to the gift, and
    that Faith is a receiving of the gift; but then it must be an
    appropriating and applying faith. For no man is possessed of
    a gift till he receives it; but, in receiving it, he obtains
    a special interest in it, which he had not before._ That God,
    by the word of the gospel, maketh known to all indefinitely
    who hear it, that He is well pleased in His beloved Son, and
    that He giveth His Son and remission of sins and eternal life
    to all who unfeignedly believe the gospel with understanding,
    is as surely true as God’s word is true. And, that no man is
    possessed of a gift till he receives it, and that in receiving
    it he obtains a special interest in it, is also true. It is
    also granted that no man hath Christ, or a special interest
    in Him, but he that receiveth Him. But, then, doth any man
    receive Christ before he believeth the gospel? Coming to
    Christ, receiving or embracing Him, looking to Him, trusting
    or confiding in, relying or depending upon Him and His divine
    righteousness, belong to faith, and always accompany it;
    although they may be deemed immediate consequent effects of it”
    (p. 142.)

    “I cannot approve the doctrine, which some teach, that a man
    may become perfect at once, or assured of his salvation, by
    putting forth some sort of an act of faith.” (p. 155.) “God
    generally worketh gradually both in nature and in grace.” (p.
    156.)

    “Believers, by keeping the Father’s commandment to believe on
    the name of Jesus Christ; and by obeying the new commandment,
    not in word, but in works,—attain the testimony of their own
    heart and conscience, that they are of the truth. Herein, also,
    they have the sure testimony of the word of God, whereby they
    are to try and judge themselves. And the Holy Ghost, as the
    Comforter, will be given to them, by whose testimony they will
    know and be satisfied that they are the children of God.” (p.
    171.)

    “Be it observed that I have limited no time, how long it is, or
    how long it must be, before any man is sealed by the Holy Ghost
    after he believeth the gospel. This dependeth upon the good
    pleasure of Almighty God.” (p. 175.)

    “Those writers and preachers, who maintain that the assurance
    of salvation cometh by a direct act of faith, or by the
    appropriating act of faith, or by any other sort of an act of
    faith, are mistaken; for it cometh by no act of faith, but
    by the testimony of a believer’s own conscience, and by the
    testimony of the word and Spirit of God.” (p. 179.)

    “Some writers and preachers lay down so many steps and stages
    of conviction, and speak of so many different sorts of faith
    that they greatly perplex the minds of serious people. But this
    is not the worst of it. Such doctrine hath a tendency to teach
    people to establish their own righteousness, and to turn away
    their minds from the atonement made by the blood of Christ;
    for, when they hear such doctrine, they are very apt to examine
    whether they have gone through such exercises of soul, and
    whether they have put forth such acts of faith; and, if they
    think that they have not, they are perplexed and distressed to
    no purpose; but, if they think that they have, they are ready
    to build upon such things, which may be nothing but their
    own workings and fancies, and so get into a good conceit of
    themselves to their own loss and damage.” (p. 181.)

    “True believers are too apt to live by other things than by
    Christ alone. It is the duty of every believer to keep the
    faith, and constantly to live by believing in Christ. This
    is a lesson not soon or easily learned. To keep the faith,
    in opposition to the natural propensity which is in us all,
    to live by our own righteousness, or something of our own,
    is the principal part of the Christian warfare. It is like
    the pendulum in a clock, which moves all the wheels. If the
    pendulum stops, then the whole clock stands. All our strength
    to obey flows from believing in Christ.” (p. 185.)

    “All the heavenly frames, sweet sensations, manifestations
    of God’s love, all the joys and comforts, are all and each
    of them valuable blessings, for which God’s people should be
    thankful; but they should not live by them, but by Christ. All
    the works and duties of believers, which are done in faith and
    love, which is in Christ Jesus, are pleasing to God; all the
    doctrines revealed in the book of God ought to be regarded
    and believed; the promises, threatenings, and precepts of the
    word of God should be used as the Lord Jesus used them when
    He was on earth; all the ordinances and means of grace should
    be conscientiously observed; but believers are not to make a
    Christ of any of these things, nor to live by them, but by
    Christ Himself.” (p. 188.)

These extracts are long, but they serve to exhibit Ingham’s views of
the way of a sinner’s salvation. Substantially, they are the same as
Sandeman’s, and were doubtless derived from him. One cannot but regret
that Ingham suffered himself to be led astray by the hazy dogmatisms of
the new Scottish sect, instead of adhering to the Scriptural views of his
friend Wesley.[117] Of his sincerity there cannot be a doubt; but, in
trying to make the salvation of a sinner more simple, he made it vastly
more dubious and difficult. How different were these misty speculations
to the plain, straightforward teachings of the Methodists! Their adoption
by the truly converted and godly societies, raised up by Ingham and his
friends, was a fatal error, and renders it no matter of regret, that,
societies espousing and propagating such principles gradually dwindled,
and nearly became extinct.

Before taking our leave of Ingham’s book, a few lines may be added
concerning its general merits, apart from its doctrinal heresies; and
these shall be given as an extract from a review, written by Samuel
Drew, the able and honest editor of the _Imperial Magazine_, for 1823.
After adverting to Ingham’s doctrinal peculiarities, Mr. Drew proceeds:—

    “Notwithstanding these blemishes, Mr. Ingham’s treatise
    contains innumerable excellencies, fully entitling it to the
    patronage which has carried it through four editions. Though
    Faith and Hope form its distinguishing characteristics, the
    practical part of religion is not forgotten. This the author
    enforces by a variety of motives, and warns his readers
    against the rock of Antinomianism on which thousands have
    struck to rise no more. The language is simple and unadorned;
    it discovers spirit without acrimony, and never degenerates
    into reproaches when he reprehends the sentiments of others.
    On all occasions, he seems far more intent upon what he says,
    than upon the manner in which it is said, invariably paying
    a greater regard to truth, than to any fame which might be
    purchased, by disregarding this jewel, while hunting after the
    flowers of diction.”

Ingham’s active and useful work was now nearly ended. In 1762, on the
re-settlement of affairs, he was chosen elder of the Church at Tadcaster,
which office, in addition to that of general overseer, he sustained to
the end of life; but the labours of himself and his coadjutors resulted
in small success. On July 23rd, 1766, Wesley wrote:—

    “I went to Tadcaster. Here Mr. Ingham had once a far larger
    society than ours; but it has now shrunk into nothing; ours,
    meantime, is continually increasing.”

The state of his societies greatly affected poor Ingham’s mind.
The well-informed author of the “Life and Times of the Countess of
Huntingdon,” remarks, “The almost total dispersion of the Yorkshire
Churches, caused by the introduction of the Sandemanian principles, had a
sad effect on Mr. Ingham’s mind. He was liable to sudden transitions from
the highest flow of spirits to the utmost depression, and the peculiar
character of his temperament was an extreme accessibility to sudden
attacks of melancholy.” The thing which he had “greatly feared had come
upon him.” He was deserted by his spiritual children, and the thought
distressed him. “I am lost! I am lost! was his despairing cry.” It is
true, that, there were gleams of comfort. Lady Huntingdon’s letters were
soothing to his anguished spirit. “A thousand and a thousand times,” he
tells her, “do I bless and praise my God, for the words of comfort and
consolation which your ladyship’s letters conveyed to my mournful heart,
dismayed and overwhelmed as it was by the pressure of my calamities.
‘Righteous art Thou, O Lord, and just are Thy judgments.’”

This was but the beginning of his sorrows. One of his beloved and
faithful friends was the laborious and devoted Grimshaw. In the early
part of the year 1763, Haworth was visited with a malignant putrid fever,
and, among its many victims, Grimshaw was one. At great risk, Ingham
repeatedly visited the Christian veteran in his fatal illness; and,
afterwards, gave to Lady Huntingdon, the following account of his several
interviews:—

    “From the moment he was seized with the fever, he felt the
    sentence of death in himself. When I first saw him, he said,
    ‘My last enemy is come! the signs of death are upon me, but I
    am not afraid. No! No! Blessed be God, my hope is sure, and I
    am in His hands.’ When I was pouring out my soul in prayer to
    the Lord, I mentioned the further prolongation of his life,
    that he might have more opportunities of being useful; and
    when I had concluded, he said, ‘My dear brother Ingham, if
    the Lord should raise me up, I think I could do more for His
    glory than I have hitherto done. Alas! what have my wretched
    services been? and I have now need to cry, at the close of my
    unprofitable course—_God be merciful to me a sinner!_’ At my
    next visit, I found him much worse, and evidently sinking. I
    mentioned having received a letter from your ladyship, and
    delivered your message. He seemed much affected, but, after
    a few moments, revived a little. When I had prayed with him,
    he said, ‘I harbour no desire of life,—my time is come,—and
    I am entirely resigned to God.’ Then, lifting up his hands
    and eyes to heaven, he added, ‘Thy will be done!’ At another
    time, he said, laying his hand upon his breast, ‘I am quite
    exhausted, but I shall soon be at home for ever with the Lord—a
    poor miserable sinner redeemed by His blood.’ Mr. Venn having
    arrived, I shortly after took my leave, but never after saw my
    dear brother Grimshaw alive.”

Not long after this, Ingham had to mourn the death of another and dearer
friend. After twenty-seven years of connubial happiness, his noble and
Christian wife was taken from him. During her fatal sickness,

    “She continued to exercise those Christian graces for which she
    had been long distinguished. Of herself and her efforts, her
    view was ever humble, and every reference to her usefulness she
    met with grateful acknowledgment of the sovereignty of that
    grace, that made her the instrument of good to others. Her
    end, though painful, was triumphant. She welcomed the hour—she
    longed to receive the prize of her high calling. ‘Thanks be
    to God! thanks be to God!’ she exclaimed, ‘The moment’s come!
    the day is dawning!’ and thus, in holy ecstasy, she winged her
    way to glory.” “When she had no longer strength to speak to
    me,” (wrote Ingham), “she looked most sweetly at me and smiled.
    On the Tuesday before she died, when she had opened her heart
    to me, and declared the ground of her hope, her eyes sparkled
    with divine joy, her countenance shone, her cheeks were ruddy:
    I never saw her look so sweet and lively in my life. All about
    her were affected; no one could refrain from tears, and yet it
    was a delight to be with her.”

Lady Margaret Ingham died on the 30th of April, 1768, in the sixty-eighth
year of her age.

Her sorrowing partner did not long survive. He, also, four years
afterwards, in 1772, passed away to that “rest which remains to the
people of God,” leaving behind him a son, who, for a time at least,
united himself with Wesley’s societies, and officiated as a local
preacher.[118]

    “In person, Ingham is said to have been extremely handsome—‘too
    handsome for a man’—and the habitual expression of his
    countenance was most prepossessing. He was a gentleman;
    temperate, and irreproachable in his morals; as a public
    speaker, animated and agreeable rather than eloquent; studious
    of the good conversation of his people, and delicately fearful
    of reproach to the cause of Christ.”[119]

His societies, once so flourishing, gradually dwindled. In 1813, when
they became united to the Daleites, or Scotch Independents, they were
thirteen in number, assembling in the following places—Wheatley, 56
members; Winewall, 41; Kendal, 27; Nottingham, 25; Salterforth, 21;
Bulwel, 17; Tadcaster, 14; Howden, 11; Wibsey, 10; Leeds, 9; Rothwell, 8;
Haslingden, 8; Todmorden, 5. So far as has been ascertained, these, at
the present moment, are reduced to six,—Winewall, (the largest and most
flourishing,) Wheatley, Todmorden, Kendal, Tadcaster, and Leeds.[120]




REV. JOHN GAMBOLD, M.A., THE MORAVIAN BISHOP.


The whole of the Oxford Methodists intended to devote their lives to the
service of the Church of England. This, at Oxford, was their highest wish
and holiest ambition. The future was hidden from them,—fortunately so.
Without this, their brotherhood would not have lasted for a single week;
and many of the results of their godly intercourse would never have been
realized. How different from the course of Clayton was that of Ingham;
and how different again was that of Gambold from that of Whitefield and
the Wesley brothers; and again, how different was that of Hervey and
Broughton from any of the others! Men would have ordered it otherwise;
but who will say that the way of Providence was not infinitely better?
There may be much in the lives of men that is mysterious and perplexing;
but of all the sincerely pious it may be confidently asserted,—“A man’s
heart deviseth his ways, but the Lord directeth his steps.” The subject
of the following memoir is no exception.

John Gambold was born April 10th, 1711, at Puncheston, in Pembrokeshire,
South Wales. His father, a clergyman of the Church of England, lived an
ornament to his profession, and was greatly respected, for his unaffected
piety and purity of manners. The children of this devout minister were
educated with the utmost care and attention, and no pains were spared
to instil into their minds the principles and precepts of the Christian
religion.

Nothing is known of the early life of young Gambold, except, that he was
greatly benefited by his father’s instructions; and, at the early age of
fifteen, went to the University of Oxford, where he entered as servitor
in Christ Church College, and soon became eminent for his diligent
devotion to reading and study. He was naturally of a vivacious and active
spirit; and, besides his attention to his collegiate exercises, employed
himself in an extensive perusal of the most approved dramatists and poets
in the English language.[121]

Two years after he went to Oxford, his father died; and this event,
together with the exhortations and counsels he received from the dying
minister in his last moments, so affected him, that he at once abandoned
poetry and plays, lost his liveliness of disposition, sunk into a state
of melancholy, and made the salvation of his soul the chief business
of life. Painful experience was the inspirer of a short poem of his,
afterwards published in his collected works:—

    “In nature’s ebbs, which lay the soul in chains,
    Beneath weak nerves and ill-sufficing veins,
    Who can support bare being, unendow’d
    With gust voluptuous, or reflection proud?
    No more bright images the brain commands,—
    No great design the glowing heart expands,—
    No longer shines the animated face,—
    Motion and speech forget their conscious grace.
    How can the brave, the witty, and the gay
    Survive, when mirth, wit, courage die away?
    None but the Christian’s all-comprising power
    Subdues each chance, and lives through every hour:
    Watchful, he suffers all, and feels within
    All smart proportion’d to some root of sin;
    He strikes each error with his Maker’s rod,
    And, by self-knowledge, penetrates to God.”

Gambold entered Christ Church College in the same year that Charles
Wesley did, the latter being more than two years older than the former.
John Wesley also was a member of the same college, and twelve months
before, on September 19, 1725, had been ordained a deacon. In 1729, the
society of Oxford Methodists was formed by Charles Wesley; and, a year
afterwards, Gambold, still only in his teens, became one of them. He
shall narrate his own story, written when Wesley was in Georgia. The
account is long; but, containing as it does a full description of the
rise and peculiarities of the “Holy Club,” and a faithful delineation
of the character and influence of their confessed “curator,” it is too
important to be omitted. Gambold writes:—

    “Mr. Wesley, late of Lincoln College, has been the instrument
    of so much good to me, that, I shall never forget him. Could
    I remember him as I ought, it would have very near the same
    effect as if he was still present; for a conversation so
    unreserved as was his, so zealous in engaging his friends to
    every instance of Christian piety, has left nothing now to be
    said, nothing but what occurs to us as often as we are disposed
    to remember him impartially.

    “About the middle of March, 1730, I became acquainted with
    Mr. Charles Wesley, of Christ Church. I was just then come up
    from the country, and had made a resolution to find out some
    pious persons of religion to keep company with, or else to
    instil something of it into those I knew already. I had been,
    for two years before, in deep melancholy: so God was pleased
    to order it, to disappoint and break a proud spirit, and to
    embitter the world to me; as I was inclining to relish its
    vanities. During this time, I had no friend to whom I could
    open my mind, to any purpose. No man did care for my soul; or
    none, at least, understood its paths. They, that were at ease,
    could not guess what my sorrow was for. The learned endeavoured
    to give me right notions, and the friendly to divert me. But
    I had a weight upon my heart, which only prayer could in some
    degree remove. I prepared myself to make trial of the value
    and comfort of society, being a little recovered. One day, an
    old acquaintance entertained me with some reflections on the
    whimsical Mr. Wesley, his preciseness and pious extravagancies.
    Though I had lived with him four years in the same college,
    yet, so unable was I to take notice of anything that passed,
    that I knew nothing of his character; but, upon hearing this,
    I suspected he might be a good Christian. I therefore went to
    his room, and, without any ceremony, desired the benefit of
    his conversation. I had so large a share of it henceforth,
    that hardly a day passed, while I was at college, but we were
    together once, if not oftener.

    “After some time, he introduced me to his brother John, of
    Lincoln College. ‘For,’ said he, ‘he is somewhat older than
    I, and can resolve your doubts better.’ This, as I found
    afterwards, was a thing which he was deeply sensible of; for
    I never observed any person have a more real deference for
    another, than he constantly had for his brother. Indeed, he
    followed his brother entirely. Could I describe one of them,
    I should describe both. And therefore I shall say no more of
    Charles, but that he was a man made for friendship; who, by his
    cheerfulness and vivacity, would refresh his friend’s heart;
    with attentive consideration, would enter into and settle all
    his concerns; so far as he was able, would do anything for him,
    great or small; and, by a habit of openness and freedom, leave
    no room for misunderstanding.

    “The Wesleys were already talked of for some religious
    practices, which were first occasioned by Mr. Morgan, of Christ
    Church. From these combined friends, began a little society;
    for several others, from time to time, fell in; most of them
    only to be improved by their serious and useful discourse; and
    some few espousing all their resolutions and their whole way of
    life.

    “Mr. John Wesley was always the chief manager, for which he
    was very fit; for he not only had more learning and experience
    than the rest, but he was blest with such activity as to be
    always gaining ground, and such steadiness that he lost none.
    What proposals he made to any was sure to charm them, because
    he was so much in earnest; nor could they afterwards slight
    them, because they saw him always the same. What supported this
    uniform vigour, was the care he took to consider well of every
    affair before he engaged in it, making all his decisions in
    the fear of God, without passion, humour, or self-confidence:
    for, though he had naturally a very clear apprehension, yet,
    his exact prudence depended more on humanity and singleness
    of heart. To this I may add, that he had, I think, something
    of authority in his countenance; though, as he did not want
    address, he could soften his manner, and point it as occasion
    required. Yet, he never assumed anything to himself above his
    companions. Any of them might speak their mind, and their words
    were as strictly regarded by him as his were by them.

    “It was their custom to meet most evenings, either at his
    chamber or one of the others, where, after some prayers, (the
    chief subject of which was charity,) they ate their supper
    together, and he read some book. But the chief business was
    to review what each had done that day, in pursuance of their
    common design, and to consult what steps were to be taken the
    next.

    “Their undertaking included these several particulars:—to
    converse with young students; to visit the prisons; to instruct
    some poor families; and to take care of a school, and a parish
    workhouse.

    “They took great pains with the younger members of the
    University, to rescue them from bad company, and encourage them
    in a sober, studious life. If they had some interest with any
    such, they would get them to breakfast; and, over a dish of
    tea, endeavour to fasten some good hint upon them. They would
    bring them acquainted with other well disposed young men. They
    would help them in those parts of learning which they stuck at.
    They would close with their best sentiments, drive on their
    convictions, give them rules of piety, when they would receive
    them, and watch over them with great tenderness.

    “Some or other of them went to the Castle every day; and
    another most commonly to Bocardo. Whoever came to the Castle
    was to read in the chapel to as many prisoners as would attend,
    and to talk to the man or men whom he had taken particularly
    in charge. Before reading, he asked: Whether they had prayers
    yesterday? (For some serious men among the prisoners read
    family prayers with the rest.) Whether they had read over again
    what was read last, and what they remembered of it? Then he
    went over the heads of it to them; and afterwards went on in
    the same book for a quarter of an hour. The books they used
    were the ‘Christian Monitor,’ the ‘Country Parson’s Advice
    to his Parishioners,’ and such-like. When he had done, he
    summed up the several particulars that had been insisted on,
    enforced the advice given, and reduced it at last to two or
    three sentences, which they might easily remember. Then he took
    his man aside, and asked him, Whether he was in the chapel
    yesterday? and other questions concerning his care to serve
    God, and learn his duty.

    “When a new prisoner came, their conversation with him, for
    four or five times, was particularly close and searching.
    Whether he bore no malice towards those that did prosecute him,
    or any others? The first time, after professions of good-will,
    they only inquired of his circumstances in the world. Such
    questions imported friendship, and engaged the man to open
    his heart. Afterwards, they entered upon such enquiries as
    most concern a prisoner. Whether he submitted to this disposal
    of Providence? Whether he repented of his past life? Last
    of all, they asked him, Whether he constantly used private
    prayer, and whether he had ever communicated? Thus, most or
    all of the prisoners were spoken to in their turns. But, if
    any one was either under sentence of death, or appeared to
    have some intentions of a new life, they came every day to
    his assistance; and partook in the conflict and suspense of
    those who should now be found able, or not able, to lay hold
    on salvation. In order to release those who were confined
    for small debts, and were bettered by their affliction, and
    likewise to purchase books, physic, and other necessaries,—they
    raised a small fund, to which many of their acquaintance
    contributed quarterly. They had prayers at the Castle most
    Wednesdays and Fridays, a sermon on Sundays, and the Sacrament
    once a month.

    “When they undertook any poor family, they saw them, at least,
    once a week; sometimes gave them money; admonished them of
    their vices; read to them, and examined their children.

    “The school was, I think, of Mr. Wesley’s own setting up. At
    all events, he paid the mistress, and clothed some, if not all,
    of the children. When they went thither, they enquired how each
    child behaved; saw their work (for some could knit and spin);
    heard them read; heard them their prayers and catechism; and
    explained part of it.

    “In the same manner, they taught the children in the workhouse;
    and read to the old people as they did to the prisoners.

    “Though some practices of Mr. Wesley and his friends were
    much blamed,—as their fasting on Wednesday and Friday, after
    the custom of the Primitive Church,—their coming on those
    Sundays, when there was no sacrament in their own colleges, to
    receive it at Christ Church,—yet nothing was so much disliked
    as these charitable employments. They seldom took any notice
    of the accusations brought against them; but, if they made
    any reply, it was commonly such a plain and simple one, as
    if there was nothing more in the case, but that they had
    heard such doctrines of their Saviour, and believed and done
    accordingly,—‘Shall we be the more happy in another life, the
    more virtuous we are in this? Are we the more virtuous, the
    more intensely we love God and man? Is love, as all habits, the
    more intense, the more we exercise it? Is either helping, or
    trying to help man, for God’s sake, an exercise of love to God
    or man? Particularly, Is the feeding the hungry, the giving
    drink to the thirsty, the clothing the naked, the visiting sick
    persons, or prisoners, an exercise of love to God or man? Is
    the endeavouring to teach the ignorant, to admonish sinners, to
    encourage the good, to comfort the afflicted, to confirm the
    wavering, and to reconcile enemies, an exercise of love to God
    or man? Shall we be the more happy in another life, if we do
    the former of these things, and try to do the latter? Or if we
    do not the one, nor try to do the other?”

In the above extracts, the reader has the practices which principally
distinguished the Oxford Methodists from their fellows. The account is
full of interest, and of great importance, being written by one of the
members of this godly brotherhood, and immediately after that brotherhood
was broken up. The remainder of Gambold’s narrative is chiefly a defence
and eulogy of Wesley, their “Curator;” and only such parts of it will be
given as affect the whole of these earnest students. Gambold continues:—

    “What I would chiefly remark upon, is the manner in which Mr.
    Wesley directed his friends.

    “Because he required such a regulation of our studies, as might
    devote them all to God, he has been cried out upon as one that
    discouraged learning. Far from that;—the first thing he struck
    at in young men, was that indolence which would not submit to
    close thinking. Nor was he against reading much, especially
    at first; because then the mind ought to fill itself with
    materials, and try every thing that looks bright and perfect.

    “He earnestly recommended to them a method and order in all
    their actions. After their morning devotions (which were at
    a fixed and early hour, from five to six being the time,
    morning as well as evening), he advised them to determine with
    themselves what they were to do all the parts of the day. By
    such foresight, they would, at every hour’s end, not be in
    doubt how to dispose of themselves; and, by bringing themselves
    under the necessity of such a plan, they might correct the
    impotence of a mind that had been used to live by humour and
    chance, and prepare it by degrees to bear the other restraints
    of a holy life.

    “The next thing was to put them upon keeping the fasts,
    visiting poor people, and coming to the weekly Sacrament: not
    only to subdue the body, increase charity, and obtain Divine
    grace; but (as he expressed it) to cut off their retreat to
    the world. He judged, that, if they did these things, men
    would cast out their name as evil, and, by the impossibility
    of keeping fair any longer with the world, oblige them to
    take their whole refuge in Christianity. But those, whose
    resolutions he thought would not bear this test, he left to
    gather strength by their secret exercises.

    “It was his earnest care to introduce them to the treasures of
    wisdom and hope in the Holy Scriptures: to teach them not only
    to endure that book, but to form themselves by it, and to fly
    to it as the great antidote against the darkness of this world.
    For some years past, he and his friends read the New Testament
    together at evening. After every portion of it, having heard
    the conjectures the rest had to offer, he made his observations
    on the phrase, design, and difficult places. One or two wrote
    these down from his mouth.

    “He laid much stress upon self-examination. He taught them
    (besides what occurs in his Collection of Prayers) to take
    account of their actions in a very exact manner, by writing a
    constant diary. In this, they noted down in cipher, once if not
    oftener in the day, what chiefly their employments had been
    in the several parts of it, and how they had performed each.
    Mr. Wesley had these records of his life by him for many years
    past. And some I have known, who, to seal their convictions
    and make their repentance more solemn, would write down such
    reflections upon themselves as the anguish of their soul at
    that time suggested, adding any spiritual maxim which some
    experience of their own had confirmed to them.

    “Then, to keep in their minds an awful sense of God’s presence,
    with a constant dependence on His help, he advised them to
    ejaculatory prayers. They had a book of Ejaculations relating
    to the chief virtues, and, lying by them as they stood at their
    studies, they at intervals snatched a short petition out of it.
    But at last, instead of that variety, they contented themselves
    with the following aspirations (containing acts of faith, hope,
    love, and self-resignation at the end of every hour)—‘Consider
    and hear me,’ etc.

    “The last means he recommended was meditation. Their usual time
    for this was the hour next before dinner.

    “After this, he committed them to God. What remained for him to
    do, was to encourage them in the discomforts and temptations
    they might feel, and to guard them against all spiritual
    delusions. In this spiritual care of his acquaintance, Mr.
    Wesley persisted amidst all discouragements. He overlooked
    not only one’s absurd or disagreeable qualities, but even
    his coldness and neglect of him, if he thought it might be
    conquered. He helped one in things out of religion, that he
    might be more welcome to help him in that. His knowledge of the
    world, and his insight into physic, were often of use to us.

    “If any one could have provoked him, I should; for I was slow
    in coming into his measures, and very remiss in doing my part.
    I frequently contradicted his assertions; or, which is much the
    same, distinguished upon them. I hardly ever submitted to his
    advice at the time he gave it, though I relented afterwards.
    One time he was in fear, that, I had taken up notions that were
    not safe, and pursued my spiritual improvement in an erroneous,
    because inactive, way. So he came over and stayed with me near
    a week. He accosted me with the utmost softness, condoled with
    me the incumbrances of my constitution, heard all I had to say,
    endeavoured to pick out my meaning, and yielded to me as far as
    he could. I never saw more humility in him than at this time.
    It was enough to cool the warmest imaginations that swell an
    overweening heart. It was, indeed, his custom to humble himself
    most before the proud,—not to reproach them; but, in a way of
    secret intercession, to procure their pardon.

    “He had not only friends in Oxford to assist, but a great many
    correspondents. He set apart one day at least in the week (and
    he was no slow composer) for writing letters; in which, without
    levity or affectation, but with plainness and fervour, he gave
    his advice in particular cases, and vindicated the strict
    original sense of the Gospel precepts.”[122]

This long account does something more than give a general idea of the
Oxford Methodists and of their distinguished leader. It exhibits the
course of life adopted by Gambold in his twentieth year. Like the rest
of his youthful friends, he became an earnest religionist; but he was
not happy. “He gave way to desponding thoughts; neglected his person and
apparel; confined himself as much as possible to his room; and applied,
in search of information and comfort, to the works of such authors as
he supposed could satisfy his inquiries, namely, the fathers of the
first ages of the Christian Church. Of these, the most abstruse were his
greatest favourites, and particularly those which are called mystics.
Being well versed in the Greek language, he was much pleased with that
energy of expression in which it excels. The deep speculations of these
ancient writers, their beautiful allusions, the richness of style with
which they clothed their ideas, and the strain of piety running through
the whole, suited his taste, and so far influenced his understanding,
that he adopted their sentiments, went the same lengths with them in
the scenes of imagination, and, by degrees, became so much like one of
them, that his cast of mind bore a nearer resemblance to that which was
peculiar in them, than to any that appeared among the modern. By a close
attention to writers of this stamp, he contracted such a turn of mind,
and imbibed such an exalted notion of internal purity, that he could not
be satisfied with himself, unless he became such a refined being as those
philosophical Christians portrayed. This being the state to which his aim
was directed, he spared no pains to model himself according to the idea
which he had formed of it. His exertions were abortive. Disappointment
occasioned great concern;” and it was not until after years of laborious
endeavour to form and establish a righteousness of his own, that he was
led to submit to “the righteousness of God, by faith of Jesus Christ.”

In September, 1733, he was ordained, by Dr. Potter, Bishop of Oxford;
and, as soon as he was capable of holding a living, was instituted
to that of Stanton-Harcourt. In this sequestered village, where his
parochial duties were not numerous, he had more leisure than was
desirable to pursue his philosophical inquiries. He loved retirement,
and seldom went abroad. But whenever he could prevail upon himself to
visit any of his friends, and, among the rest, Lord Harcourt, he was
received with much respect. His abilities, both natural and acquired,
were great, but his unfeigned humility was so apparent to every one with
whom he conversed, that, his superior powers excited no dislike in any.
Indeed, his whole conduct was so inoffensive, that he very rarely, if
ever, made himself an enemy. Still, his philosophical and platonic kind
of religion failed to make him happy, and was of little use to his rustic
parishioners. Four years were spent,—almost wasted,—in those high flights
of imagination, deep speculation, intense reflection, and metaphysical
reasoning, to which his natural disposition inclined him.

Meanwhile, his friendship with the Wesleys was continued. Charles
returned from Georgia in the month of December, 1736; and, in the
following February, speaks of meeting his “good friend Mr. Gambold,” at
Oxford, who was “right glad to see” him. In fact, at this period and more
or less for at least a year and a half afterwards, Kezziah Wesley, the
youngest surviving sister of John and Charles, was domiciled with Gambold
and his sister (who kept his house,) at Stanton-Harcourt. Poor Kezziah,
from childhood, had been delicate, and her health had not been bettered
by her residence at Lincoln, where, at nineteen years of age, she became
a teacher in a boarding-school, and was painfully in want of both clothes
and money. Her life was a wandering one. For a time, she lived in the
house of the Vicar of Bexley, the Rev. Mr. Piers, and, afterwards, she
resided with an aunt at Islington. It was not long that she needed the
kindness of her friends, for, at the age of thirty-one, nearly a year
and a half before the decease of her Christian mother, she peacefully
expired, on the 9th of March, 1741.[123]

John Wesley landed in England on February 1, 1738; and, a week
afterwards, met with Peter Böhler, just arrived from Germany. Within a
fortnight, the two Wesleys, accompanied by Böhler, set out for Oxford,
whence all the first brotherhood of Oxford Methodists were now dispersed.
The elder Wesley writes:—

    “I found not one of those who had formerly joined with me; and
    only three gentlemen who trod in their steps, building up one
    another in the faith.”

The nearest to Oxford was Gambold; and, accordingly, on February 18th,
Wesley says:—

    “We went to Stanton-Harcourt, to Mr. Gambold, and found my
    old friend recovered from his mystic delusion, and convinced
    that St. Paul was a better writer than either Tauler or Jacob
    Behmen.”

Gambold was already returning to gospel simplicity; and his acquaintance
with Böhler rendered him service of the highest importance. Böhler held
meetings in Oxford, attended both by members of the university and
citizens. He delivered discourses in Latin, and Gambold interpreted them
for the benefit of those of his audiences who were unfamiliar with that
language. This friendship with the newly arrived German, proved the
means, not only of the conversion of the two Wesleys, but, ultimately of
Gambold also.

    “After many struggles and conflicting thoughts, arising from
    repeated attempts to combine philosophy with the simplicity
    of the gospel; he, at length, by the grace of God, yielded
    to the power of the latter. He saw and lamented his natural
    depravity and consequent alienation from God, and also the
    insufficiency of his best works to merit heaven. He rejoiced
    in the sufficiency of the atonement of Jesus to sanctify and
    justify every true believer in Him. His former melancholy was
    dissipated; his spirit was made joyful in God his Saviour; and
    he became, in the fullest sense of the term, a new man.”[124]

The following letters will show the change which took place in Gambold’s
views and feelings. The first was addressed to Wesley, and has never
before been published. As will be seen, it was written three days
before Wesley’s return from Georgia, and, consequently, before Wesley
and Gambold became acquainted with Böhler. It is given here without
abridgment, and verbatim.

                                              “_January 27, 1737-8._

    “DEAR SIR,—The point you mention has long been a difficulty to
    me; of which I could find no end, but that general solution of
    all doubt, and cure of all anxieties, resignation to eternal
    Providence. Can I offer a more particular solution now? No; but
    I will let you see, that I, and doubtless many more, labour
    under the same perplexity; which will incline one to believe,
    that, as God has a fire of grace to cleanse us from our common
    pollutions, so he has also a light in reserve, (and the needs
    of so many strongly call for it,) that would give a comfortable
    turn to our common speculations.

    “O, what is regeneration? And what doth baptism? How shall we
    reconcile faith and fact? Is Christianity become effete, and
    sunk again into the bosom of nature? Was the short triumph of
    it over flesh and blood designed as the standing enjoyment,
    or standing humiliation of succeeding ages? Was the Church to
    condemn the world as God does, in order to meet and embrace it
    at last?

    “What advantage would a deist make of the present appearance
    of things? He would say, that, when the gospel, by setting
    up some particular institutions, made a separation from
    natural religion, it was only an economical enmity;—the new
    dispensation did operate upon the old, as plaisters do upon
    the body, which, when they have spent their strength in
    expelling its diseases, drop off, and leave it sound, clean,
    and beautiful. That, the distance it stood in from it, was only
    a means to correct the prejudices, and manage the affections
    of mankind; and, as these ends were served, Christianity and
    natural religion were to come closer. That, the former was to
    lose its name in the latter, when its whole light was kindled
    up,—when the grace of a Redeemer, the inward touches of divine
    power, and the obligations of penance and self-denial, which
    were received for a while as extraneous appendages to natural
    religion, were found to be involved in the very bowels of it.
    That, the restitution of all things is the time when they shall
    fully be reconciled; when nature and grace shall be at their
    height, and the perfection of both be the same thing. That,
    this conclusion seems to be nigh us in the present age, when
    evangelical and moral virtue, which formerly stood in points
    so remote from each other, are so near falling into coincident
    lines, that, men have much ado to make any distinction that
    will hold in fact.

    “But to come to the point. That regeneration is the beginning
    of a life which is not fully enjoyed but in another world, we
    all know. But how much of it may be enjoyed at present? What
    degree of it does the experience of mankind encourage us to
    expect? And by what symptoms shall we know it?

    “Let us consult our observation as to the gradual progress
    of a religious life. At first, men are solicited with strong
    convictions of conscience: the pain of these and the sensible
    pleasure they feel as rewarding their acts of duty, are
    their bias to religion; while an overwhelming admiration of
    divine things, and a view to the issues of eternity, check
    their natural boldness and levity; at once abase and enlarge
    the understanding; and, from the anguish of hope and fear,
    produce zeal. Then, having reformed all crying disorders, and
    being prompt and expert in exercises of devotion, there is
    less matter for vehement remorse or fear; and the peace and
    congratulation of conscience hereupon being comfort sufficient,
    the more transporting flashes of joy are withdrawn; and thus,
    the man, having no religious passions, and being in war with
    corrupt passions, acquaints himself with the measures, motives,
    and fitness of virtues, and acts them in the strength of
    rational consideration.

    “Here he labours long, and seems perhaps to have overcome all
    his vicious inclinations; (unless some one may show itself,
    more to his secret confusion and pain, than guilt,) being
    always in a posture of religious care, severity of thought,
    and habitual regularity of life. But then he complains of
    a general lukewarmness,—his intercourse with God is not
    enlivened with any particular successes, tender affections,
    or noble discoveries. For this he is much afflicted; yet, in
    the multitude of his thoughts within him, there is a good hope
    towards God at the bottom, which becomes more explicit by
    listening to the gospel. The redemption through Christ drops
    like balm into his soul, and he scruples not now to confess
    that his religious actions were but formal and worthless; yet,
    through gratitude to his Saviour and joy in Him, he is more
    ready than ever to continue the practice of them.

    “Yet, he frequently falls into faintings and desolations. He
    is chiefly troubled at the opposition which self-love and
    pride make to the spirit of Christ within him. These make
    him unfaithful in the happy moments of grace, and infest him
    continually in his weaker intervals. Yea, he can trace them
    through every action of his life, and begin to see the depth
    and extent of his depravity. Hereupon, he keeps himself in
    constant recollection, to watch and resist it. He rejoices
    that, upon applying to God, a temptation vanishes; yet, very
    often it dwells so obstinately upon his mind, that his thoughts
    are shut up within the circle of their own folly and baseness,
    and he can only send groanings that cannot be uttered after
    the divine gift he once enjoyed. That gift, however, returns,
    and sometimes so long together, that he is able to form some
    idea of a spiritual life,—of the purity and long-suffering,
    the humility and charity, the magnanimity and singleness of
    heart, that are suitable for one in whom the Holy Spirit
    dwells. His desire insensibly sets him on work to procure those
    dispositions, which follow upon his wish; for the soul no
    sooner conceives the temper it would be in, but the body (being
    taught that obsequiousness by the strong recollection lately
    used, which suspends, clarifies, and determines the animal
    spirit) immediately furnishes the sensation, air, and whole
    energy of that temper.

    “These smooth and ready emotions of virtue, which seem to give
    a man a more real and genuine possession of it than ever, do
    also encourage the mind to launch out in sublime theories;
    wherein it is much assisted by the repose and security it
    enjoys towards God, and by the delicate philosophic joy
    overflowing all the faculties, which raises the imagination
    to greater magnificence and sagacity. Here the grand system
    of Providence and all its various dispensations; the
    correspondencies of heaven and earth, of time and eternity;
    the gaiety and mournings of nature, and the greatness and
    abjectness of man; the saving mystery of human life, and the
    saving mystery of Christianity inserted into it;—all these
    are inquired into, not out of vain curiosity, but at the
    instigation of love, to salute the divine goodness in all its
    works. This is the meridian of the religious man. His notions
    and his virtues are at the height, in their full clearness and
    fervour. The love of holiness shines through him, and unites
    under it all the movements of nature. It commands and pierces
    all that converse with him. All, after this, is, to the eye of
    man, a decline and a fall; but a decline by a regular appointed
    path, and a fall into the arms of secret and infinite mercy.
    I need not explain to you what I mean; so I will shut up the
    description.

    “Now, where in all these stages shall we place our
    regeneration? And what shall we say it is? There is reason to
    think, that, we have no more real goodness (except experience)
    in one of these states than another,—in the last than the
    first; we only fill our minds with new sets of ideas, and, by
    a temporary force, drive our constitution into something that
    seems answerable to them. Let this force cease, and we are
    the same as before; when we are in the most plausible posture
    of virtue, let us but sleep upon it, or otherwise remit the
    contention of the mind, and ’tis no more; affectation gives
    place to nature.

    “But, you will say, the operation of grace is a real thing. It
    is so; but, for all the indications we commonly go by to prove
    the peculiar presence of it, it may be nowhere or everywhere
    to be found. Most people measure it by the relish they have
    for some particular schemes and draughts of religion. Little
    do they think, that, the persons whom they most condemn as
    unspiritual and deluded, abating for what is merely accidental,
    are in the same state of heart as themselves. It may be the
    same complexional turn of the soul, (God also speaking peace
    to it, and to every man in his own language,) that makes the
    mystic happy in his prayer and quietness, the solifidian in his
    imputed righteousness, and the moral man in a good conscience.
    Nay, perhaps, what many a man calls divine love and joy in the
    Holy Ghost, has nothing in it, beyond the alacrity of youth or
    good blood in other people, but a set of phrases and notions
    from the last book he read; which has given a determination
    to that natural vigour and sweetness of temper, that were
    indifferent to any other issue or exercise.

    “I do not doubt but there is goodness in mankind, and a
    goodness of God’s inspiring too; but, I believe it more evenly
    distributed among them, and less annexed to particular ways of
    thinking and behaviour. Nay, that it is not so annexed even to
    Christianity, (though it does essentially depend on Christ,
    the universal Redeemer,) but, that, as it was in being before
    this particular institution, so it might be obtained if the
    initiating rite should happen to be wanting. Yet, this rite
    must always be used, for the same reason as it was at first
    appointed, to be memorial to mankind of what is continually
    done for them in their hearts. Therefore, it was attended
    with such extraordinary effects at first, that, by these
    manifestations of the divine life, the reality of it might be
    firmly believed and depended on in succeeding times, as well as
    sacramentally acknowledged. The same would still continue, if
    we had more faith in, and zeal for, the Christian institution;
    for, according as men believe and expect, God does unto them.
    But, at present, He seems to have let the Church drop into the
    world, and does not so much distinguish some from the rest, in
    righteousness and salvation.

    “Whether this be a right state of things, I cannot tell; but it
    seems unavoidable when every one that is born, is, of course,
    a member of the Church. If the safety and tolerable piety of
    whole nations is thereby better provided for, the exemplariness
    and instruction of an elect city set upon a hill cease. It
    seems to be the order of Providence now, that none should have
    much holiness, that all may have a little.

    “Dear sir, I have given no particular answer to your questions;
    but I have said something hastily, perhaps very wrong; but I
    know to whom Miss Wesley[125] gives her love, and would have
    written, but she is somewhat indisposed.

                “Your affectionate brother and servant,

                                                       “J. GAMBOLD.”

Such was Gambold’s philosophical religion, previous to his acquaintance
with Peter Böhler. He was sincere and in earnest; but he was enveloped in
a mystic fog. His was a grand attempt to save himself, but how the thing
was to be accomplished he hardly knew. It was greatly to his credit, as
it was also to that of Wesley, that he was willing to be taught, even
by a German stranger. Twelve months after the date of the foregoing
letter, Gambold wrote another equally important. In the interval,
both he and the two Wesley’s had been “brought out of” Pharisaic and
Philosophic “darkness into marvellous light.” The two letters have only
to be compared to see the surprising change in the writer’s views. The
following was addressed to Wesley’s brother Charles:—

                                            “_January 23rd, 1738-9._

    “DEAR SIR,—I understand that you have written to me, but the
    letter happened to be lost, and I did not receive it. Your
    brother desired me to reed his sermon for him; which, God
    willing, I shall do next Sunday.

    “I have seen upon this occasion, more than ever I could have
    imagined, how intolerable the doctrine of faith is to the mind
    of man; how peculiarly intolerable, even to most religious
    men. One may say the most unchristian things, even down to
    deism; the most enthusiastic things, so they proceed but upon
    mental raptures, lights, and unions; the most severe things,
    even the whole rigour of ascetic mortification; and all this
    will be forgiven. But if you speak of faith, in such a manner
    as makes Christ a Saviour to the utmost,—a most universal help
    and refuge,—in such a manner as takes away glorying, but adds
    happiness to wretched man; as discovers greater pollution in
    the best of us than we could before acknowledge, but brings a
    greater deliverance from it, than we could before expect. If
    any one offers to talk at this rate, he shall be heard with the
    same abhorrence as if he were going to rob mankind of their
    salvation, their Mediator, and their hopes of forgiveness.

    “I am persuaded that a Montanist, or a Novatian, who, from the
    height of his purity, should look down with contempt upon poor
    sinners, and exclude them from all mercy, would not be thought
    such an overthrower of the Gospel, as he who should learn, from
    the Author of it, to be a friend of publicans and sinners, and
    to sit down upon a level with them as soon as they begin to
    repent. But this is not to be wondered at. For all religious
    people have such a quantity of righteousness acquired by such
    painful exercise, and formed at last into current habits, which
    is their wealth both for this world and the next! Now all other
    schemes of religion are either so complaisant, as to tell them
    they are very rich, and have enough to triumph in; or else,
    only a little rough, but friendly in the main, by telling
    them their riches are not yet sufficient, but by such arts of
    self-denial and mental refinement, they may enlarge the stock.
    But the doctrine of faith is a downright robber. It takes away
    all this wealth, and only tells us it is deposited for us
    with some one else, upon whose bounty we must live like mere
    beggars. Indeed, they who are truly beggars, vile and filthy
    sinners till very lately, may stoop to live in this dependent
    condition; it suits them well enough; but those who have long
    distinguished themselves from the herd of vicious wretches,
    or have even gone beyond moral men,—for them to be told, that
    they are either not so well, or but the same needy, impotent,
    insignificant vessels of mercy with the others,—this is more
    shocking to reason than transubstantiation; for reason had
    rather resign its pretentions to judge what is bread or flesh,
    than have this honour wrested from it, to be the architect of
    virtue and righteousness.

    “But whither am I running? My design was only to give you
    warning, that, wherever you go, this foolishness of preaching
    will alienate hearts from you, and open mouths against you.
    What are you then to do, my dear friend? I will not exhort
    you to courage; we need not talk of that, for nothing that
    is approaching is evil. I will only mention the prejudice we
    shall be under if we seem in the least to lay aside universal
    charity and modesty of expression. Though we love some persons
    more than we did, let us love none less; and the rather,
    because we cannot say any one is bad, or destitute of divine
    grace, for not thinking as we do. He only less apprehends,
    less enjoys that in Christianity, which is the refuge of the
    weak and miserable, and will be his when he finds himself so.
    Indignation at mankind is a temper unsuitable to this cause. If
    we are indeed at peace with God in Christ, let it soften our
    demeanour still more, even towards gainsayers. Let them reject
    us: till then, and (as far as it will be admitted,) afterwards,
    let our friendship with them continue inviolate.

    “Then as to expressions. What has given most offence hitherto,
    is what, perhaps, may be best spared,—as some people’s
    confident and hasty triumphs in the grace of God; not by
    way of humble thankfulness to Him for looking upon them, or
    acknowledgment of some peace and strength unknown before; but
    insisting on the completeness of their justification, the
    completeness of their deliverance already from all sin, and
    taking to them every apostolical boast in the strongest terms.
    I do not deny but power over sin, and every Gospel privilege,
    are bestowed, perhaps, in as large a degree, in the beginning
    of grace, as at any time afterwards; for it depends upon the
    actual operation of the Spirit that moment upon the heart, not
    on a mere federal or habitual union with Him; and his operation
    is particularly strong at the first entrance upon a new life.
    Yet, as such converts must remember, that, as this absolute
    degree of innocence, excluding for the most part even the
    first motions of sin, may soon depart from them, and be given
    them but sometimes; though till they fall from God, they will
    still be free from wilful sins; so while it continues, it is
    the most slippery and dangerous thing, among all the blessings
    they receive, for themselves to reflect much upon, and the most
    exceptionable that they can talk of to other men. Let us speak
    of everything in such a manner, as may convey glory to Christ,
    without letting it glance on ourselves by the way.

                                                “JOHN GAMBOLD.”[126]

Though exception may be taken to some of the expressions, yet the above
is a most admirable letter; and shows that Gambold had embraced the same
faith as Wesley,—sinners are saved solely through the merits of Christ
Jesus; and on the simple exercise of faith in Him. It was not without a
struggle that he was brought to this conviction. Peter Böhler said to
Wesley, “My brother, my brother, that philosophy of yours must be purged
away.” The same might have been said to Gambold. His learning had to give
place to the simple teaching of the Word of God. He had to relinquish
philosophical theories; and submit to the authoritative utterances of
Christ and of His Apostles. Reason had to bend to revelation. In the case
of a sincere and earnest man, like Gambold, this mental transformation
was not a trifle. He himself, in a letter without date, and apparently
addressed to Wesley, refers to the difficulties, and obstacles he
encountered. His very learning was a hindrance in the way of his being
saved; and he was reluctantly convinced, that, when “the aphorisms of
learning pretend to describe and circumscribe the process of salvation,
then the words of any one who has but a good heart and common sense, are
generally more complete than those of a finished divine; and tally better
with the unsearchable divine economy.” He continues:—

    “These obstacles of nature’s education, I have often sighed
    under; and, imagining I knew where the shoe pinched in your
    case also, I advised the most artless, direct, and confident
    laying hold of the Scripture declaration, without the ceremony
    and circuitions of a man of learning, and a man of prudence,
    or a man of decorum, but simply as a _plain man_, who wants
    for his own soul to experience the manifestation of redeeming
    grace. The words of our Saviour and His apostles, which I said
    we are to take quite simply, are such as these,—‘Come unto
    Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give
    you rest.’ ‘Him that cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast
    out.’ ‘He that believeth, shall not come into condemnation;
    but is passed from death unto life.’ ‘If thou canst believe,
    all things are possible to him that believeth.’ ‘My grace is
    sufficient for thee; for My strength is made perfect in thy
    weakness.’ ‘This is a faithful saying, that Jesus Christ came
    into the world to save sinners,’ etc., etc.”

There is another letter, written by Gambold, during his transition state,
which further illustrates his views and feelings at this important
crisis. It was addressed “to a studious young lady,”—probably Kezziah
Wesley,—and concerning it Wesley himself remarks:—“It well deserves the
attention of the serious and sensible reader. Indeed, unless read with a
good deal of attention, it will scarce be understood, the thoughts are so
deep, and so concisely expressed.” The following are brief extracts:—

    “I will no more speak against reading, since, as you say,
    you ‘take pleasure in nothing else in the world.’ For, I
    cannot deny, but I should be glad myself to have some object
    of pleasure in the world; something, whether great or mean,
    I do not care, so it be innocent, that might be a relief to
    my weary mind. In the situation I am in, not yet admitted to
    the glorious comforts of faith, and yet sick of the burden of
    corrupt nature, it seems necessary sometimes to set aside the
    dejecting prospect, by some amusement, however low. The lower
    it is, the fitter for me, till faith in Christ raises me from
    spiritual darkness and death. Then I would hope for such solid
    consolation, as may well supersede the poor amusements and
    delights of the natural man.”

    “There is no such lumber in the world, as our last year’s
    notions, which yet, in their day, were wonderfully fine and
    delightful. The fruit of the Tree of Knowledge will not keep:
    it is pleasant enough when you first pluck it; but, if you
    pretend to lay it up, it will rot. The man who has discovered,
    as far as human thought can go, the manner how the world was
    created, and how it shall be restored, the nature of the human
    soul, and its state after death,—when he has done, what is
    he the better? When the heat of thinking is over, will his
    heart be found in any better or nobler condition, than other
    men’s? Unless some bye-reasons engage him still to his old
    speculations (as the respect paid him upon that account by
    the world and by his juniors), will not he confess, that he
    is now never the happier for them? Will not he prefer plain
    common-sense before all such subtleties? Alas, alas! Under
    the greatest accomplishments of the head, the heart remains
    just the same as it was. This is very true, though it does not
    presently appear to us. I cannot, therefore, agree to that fine
    Platonical insinuation, that, ‘so much as we have of truth, so
    much we have of God.’

    “I heartily condole with you under the troubles of this life:
    I am ready to sink under them myself. You suffered severely,
    while you lived with us, from sickness and pain, bodily
    hardships, etc. It grieves me to think, that ever it should
    be your lot to struggle with these. Yet, while you continue
    in this world, you must expect to bear your cross. Comfort
    yourself under it as well as you can, by applying arguments for
    patience; and if at any time you should not have strength of
    mind to do this, God Himself will either support and comfort
    you, or pity and accept you amidst your weakness.”

    “Now, after all this long talk, the chief thing, that, by my
    calling and my conscience, I ought to have spoken of, and
    recommended to you, I have passed over; and that is faith in
    Christ. This is the thing that I ought to speak of with zeal
    and delight;—that ought to be the brightest in my imagination,
    and nearest to my heart. How little do any other speculations
    or reasonings conduce to this faith; and how insignificant are
    they, if they do not conduce to it! I know, and actually make
    the reflection upon myself, that, whatever I read, or write,
    or speak, upon any other subject but this, I am a miserable
    trifler. Perhaps then I do very ill, to trifle with you. It
    may be, you have felt the great work of faith, cleansing you
    from all sin in the blood of Christ;—that, being righteous
    before God, you have peace therefrom, which passes all
    understanding;—that, all things are become new with you; and
    you have a new judgment and taste, as well as new satisfactions
    and employments suggested to you by the Spirit of wisdom and
    consolation. You seem to hint in the beginning of your letter,
    that, either you are in this state, or the desire of your heart
    is towards it; for you say, you now acquiesce in that, which
    (by the description I could make of it), is the righteousness
    of faith. If so, then you have cause to rejoice; and your joy
    no man taketh from you.”

Some may think, that, in these quotations, the importance of human
learning is unduly lowered; but all will admit that the learned recluse
at Stanton-Harcourt, had embraced the simple method of human salvation,
by a simple and sole reliance on the sacrifice and merits of Christ
Jesus. This is the point which we are wishful to enforce; inasmuch as it,
not only is “the truth as it is in Jesus;” but, was the origin of the
great Methodist movement of the eighteenth century. Without this, England
would have been without its latest religious reformation. On this ground,
some other extracts from the works of Gambold, may be useful.

It is a fact, not generally noticed, that, though Gambold’s Tragedy,—the
Martyrdom of Ignatius, was not published until after the authors
death,[127] it was written as early as the year 1740; and, hence, may be
taken as an exposition of Gambold’s views and feelings, at this early
period of his life.

It certainly seems somewhat strange, that an earnest young clergyman,
twenty-nine years of age, and only recently brought to the enjoyment of
personal salvation, by penitent faith in Christ, should employ his time
and pen upon a dramatical production; but it must be borne in mind,—(1)
that, from his youth, Gambold had had a great fondness for dramatic
pieces, both ancient and modern, (2) that, Gambold’s Tragedy was never
intended for the stage, (3) that, its sentiments are unexceptionably
pure and good; and (4) that, he was not the first who had attempted to
represent the principles and practices of the Christian religion in such
a form.

Gambold’s work may be a defective drama; but it is a thoughtful poem, and
deserves attention. Take the following extracts, all bearing upon faith
in Christ and its immediate results.

    “This is the sum, my brethren! Christ is all:
    If e’er we lean to other things we fall.
    Spirit, and rites, and reason too, are good,
    If planted and if glorying in His blood.
    Faith is so simple, whence all good doth spring,
    Mankind can’t think it is so great a thing;
    Still o’er this pearl steps their ambitious pride,
    Pursuing gladly any form beside.”

    “Come hither, ye, whom from an evil world
    The name of Jesus draws! You count Him sweet,
    And great, and mighty, by that glimm’ring light
    Your novice minds have gained. You venerate
    That full acquaintance, and that vital union
    Whereby the faithful know Him; and to this
    You now aspire. But can you then let go
    Your manly wisdom, and become as babes,
    To learn new maxims and the mind of Christ?
    Can you forsake your former ease and sunshine,
    T’ associate with a poor afflicted people,
    The scorn of all mankind? Can you the weight
    Of your whole souls, with all your hopes of God,
    Rest on a long-past action; and that, such
    As your Lord’s mystic but opprobrious death?”

                            “The friends of Christ
    Don’t strive with sin, but trample under foot
    Its poor, exploded, antiquated strength;
    They don’t rely on some benign event
    From the wide wheel of things; but pierce directly
    Where Jesus now admits them, and ordains
    Their thrones in bliss: hence they in spirit stand
    Free from all spot, amidst the train of heaven,
    And see God’s face, whose full and constant smile
    Doth so attend them through the wilds of life,
    That natural dejection, flitting fears,
    And all vicissitude, are swallowed up
    In one still dawn of that eternal day.”

                            “Are there not here
    Men who can say, in soberness and truth,
    That guilt is done away, and innocence,
    Fearless and free, restored within their breasts?
    That vice, with dark inextricable bands,
    No more detains, nor drives to acts of shame
    The blushing, reasoning, reluctant mind?
    That, for the passions, which by turns inspire
    The worthless life of nature,—anger, sloth,
    And avarice, and pride,—pure love prevails,
    Kindled by heaven, nor by a bad world quenched?
    That, they have inwardly exchanged their climate,
    And passed from death to life; so that their heart,
    Healed and exulting, from its deep recess,
    Returns this answer: That the power of evil,
    The sting of pain, and terrors of the grave,
    Are now no more, or but at distance rage
    In faithless minds; while not a dart can reach
    Their citadel of peace in Jesu’s love?
    That they, in short, to God’s paternal face
    And firm affection can appeal and look,
    Nor earthly griefs dare intercept the prospect;
    But still to every want they feel as men,—
    To every priestly, charitable prayer
    They breathe as saints of God; His ear and power
    Are nigh; till, thus, by constant use and proof
    Of aid celestial, heaven is, more than earth,
    Their home, the country of their heart and commerce?”

More extracts are not needed. John Gambold, the learned, moping, gloomy,
philosophic Mystic, became an humble, happy, trustful believer in Christ
Jesus. He shall tell his own story. Though he was introduced to Böhler
in January, 1738, and became his interpreter when he preached, yet, for
two years after this, his state of mind was very painful. In a letter
dated April 3, 1740, he describes himself as being “mostly pensive and
dejected, surrounded with solitude, sickness, and silence; not gathering
strength, like the heroes, from rich circumstances, but, like vulgar
minds, contracting an abjectness that blunts every finer sentiment, and
damps every nobler ardour of the soul.” The day of his deliverance,
however, was drawing nigh. Speaking of the Moravians, he writes:—

    “I looked upon them as a happy people, and their doctrine as
    fundamentally true, but could not apply the comforts thereof
    to myself, being discouraged from so doing by the deep sense
    I had of my own guilt and depravity, and by being defeated in
    the hopes of being happy in the notions which I had formerly
    imbibed. Therefore, I despaired of being in a condition better
    than the generality of mankind, or different from them. But,
    in December, 1740, my younger brother, having been with the
    Brethren in London, came to see me. The account which he gave
    of the happy course he observed amongst them, struck me with
    such an agreeable surprise, that I could not but return with
    him thither. My design was to see the order established, and
    to feel the spirit which prevailed amongst them where several
    of them dwelt together. The purpose of my visit was answered
    to my great satisfaction, and I could believe, not only that
    they were right both in principle and practice, but that I
    might have a share of the same grace which they enjoyed. After
    having been again in their company, I perceived an impulse
    upon my mind to devote myself entirely to Him who died for me,
    and to live wholly for Him and to His service.”

It is a curious fact, that, in the same year in which Wesley seceded
from the London Moravians, Gambold became enamoured with them. Philip
Henry Molther had created immense confusion and bitterness, by preaching
the unscriptural doctrine, that, “to search the Scriptures, to pray, or
to communicate, before we have faith, is to seek salvation by works;
and such works must be laid aside before faith can be received.”
Strangely enough, Gambold, and also Westley Hall (another of the Oxford
Methodists), adopted this dangerous delusion. Hence the following from
Wesley’s Journal:—

    “1741, January 28. Our old friends, Mr. Gambold and Mr. Hall,
    came to see my brother and me. The conversation turned wholly
    on silent prayer, and quiet waiting for God; which, they said,
    was the only possible way to attain living, saving faith.

    “Sirenum voces, et Circes pocula nosti?

    “Was there ever so pleasing a scheme? But where is it written?
    Not in any of those books which I account the oracles of God. I
    allow, if there is a better way to God than the scriptural way,
    this is it. But the prejudice of education so hangs upon me,
    that I cannot think there is. I must, therefore, still wait in
    the Bible-way, from which this differs as light from darkness.”

The reader has here a characteristic specimen of Wesley’s refined irony,
and determined adherence to the word of God. In the latter, Gambold
sometimes failed. He was still a young man of only thirty; and yet not
a few of the years of his past life had been worse than wasted, by his
indulging in the philosophical speculations of the ancients, instead
of taking the Scriptures for his guide; and now, when he had emerged
from the mists of the early ages of the Christian Church, he suddenly
plunged into the delusive fog of the newly-arrived Philip Henry Molther.
How long he continued there we have no means of knowing; but one thing
is certain, that, the above-named heresy occasioned contentions which
created a partial estrangement between him and his old friend Wesley.
In July, 1741, Wesley had to preach before the Oxford University, in
the church of St Mary’s; and, being in doubt as to the subject of his
sermon, whether it should be from the text, “Almost thou persuadest me to
be a Christian,” or from, “How is the faithful city become an harlot!” he
went to Oxford, a month before the time of its delivery, to advise with
Gambold concerning it, but met with a response far from friendly. Wesley
writes:—

    “He seemed to think it of no moment; ‘For,’ said he, ‘all here
    are so prejudiced, that they will mind nothing you say.’”

Wesley adds:—

    “I know not that. However, I am to deliver my own soul, whether
    they will hear, or whether they will forbear.”

Even this was not all. Only a fortnight later, Wesley wrote:—

    “1741, July 2. I met Mr. Gambold again, who honestly told me he
    was ashamed of my company, and, therefore, must be excused from
    going to the society with me. This is plain dealing at last.”

Such was another of the disastrous results of Molther’s visit to the
London Moravians: Wesley and Gambold, bound together by hundreds of
endearing facts, were parted; and, though not converted into foes, were
no longer friends.

It is a melancholy fact, that this estrangement was not temporary. Twelve
months before, the friendship between Whitefield and Wesley had been
ruptured; but, in 1742, there was a sincere and hearty reunion, which
lasted until death. In the case of Gambold, it was otherwise, but through
no fault of Wesley’s. On December 23, 1745, Charles Wesley wrote as
follows:—

    “I met my old friend, John Gambold, at my printer’s, and
    appointed to meet him to-morrow at Dr. Newton’s. I brought
    my brother with me. I found the Germans had quite estranged
    and stole away his heart, which nevertheless relented, while
    we talked over the passages of our former friendship; but he
    hardened himself against the weakness of gratitude. We could
    not prevail upon him to meet us again.”

Yea, more than this. Eighteen years afterwards, Wesley himself made the
following entries in his journal:—

    “1763, November 5. I spent some time with my old friend, John.
    Gambold. Who but Count Zinzendorf could have separated such
    friends as we were? Shall we never unite again?

    “December 16. I spent an agreeable hour, and not unprofitably,
    with my old friend, John Gambold. O how gladly could I join
    heart and hand again! But, alas! thy heart is not as my heart!”

Gambold would not resume the friendship; but, to the very last, Wesley
held him in high esteem. Only twelve months before Gambold’s death, he
spoke of him as being one of the most “sensible men in England.”[128] But
to return to Oxford, where the breach first occurred.

Wesley’s sermon, before the University, was preached and published; and
it is a curious fact, that, of all the sermons Gambold ever preached,
only two have appeared in print, and, that, one of the two was delivered
in the same year, in the same church, and before the same audience,
as this of Wesley’s was. Gambold’s sermon was founded upon the text,
“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for behold I bring you good
tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people;” and was entitled:
“Christianity Tidings of Joy. A Sermon preached before the University of
Oxford, at St. Mary’s, on Sunday, December 27, 1741. Published at the
request of Mr. Vice-Chancellor.”

The two sermons were widely different. Wesley’s was intensely practical
and faithful; an earnest and comprehensive enforcement of experimental
and practical religion, with a direct, searching, personal application,
which, under the circumstances, was much more likely to be censured than
applauded. Gambold’s was much more than twice the length of Wesley’s;
but not half so simple and useful. Wesley’s was full of the Methodist
doctrine of the day; Gambold’s was a metaphysical disquisition, which
might, with consistency, have been uttered by any of the Oxford divines
opposed to the Methodist movement. It would not be true to say, that,
his remarks were not pertinent; but they were not what such an audience
might have expected from a newly converted Methodist. How to account for
this we know not. His sermon is long, learned, and able; but it fails to
reach the heart and conscience as Wesley’s does. Besides, there is one
sentence in it which, as coming from such a man, is perfectly perplexing.
He expressly asserts that “a man’s sins are forgiven in baptism;” and
that baptism, “the channel of remission, is qualification enough for
heaven, to those who die upon it.” To reconcile the discrepancy between
this and Gambold’s own statements as already quoted, is difficult, if
not impossible. The fact seems to be, that, though he had embraced the
doctrine of salvation by faith only, he was still infected with some of
the High Church principles of the Oxford Methodists; and his evangelical
and able ministry was marred and made misty by the philosophical
speculations and reasonings in which he had so long indulged. That he was
a trustful and saved believer in Jesus Christ, there cannot be a doubt;
but he failed to announce the great doctrines, which he had been taught
by Böhler, with the simplicity, clearness, earnestness, and pathos that
Wesley did. Wesley’s heart was full of them; and, in all his wanderings,
they were almost the only theme of his daily ministry. Gambold held, and
also preached them; but, perhaps, from his metaphysical cast of mind,
they were not so clearly and forcibly presented as by his quondam friend.

Nine months after the delivery of his sermon before the University,
Gambold formally severed himself from the Established Church, and united
with the Moravians. He was the fifth of the Oxford Methodists who had
joined the Brethren. Of these, the two Wesleys had seceded,—or, it might
almost be said,—had been virtually expelled. The third, Benjamin Ingham,
in this very year, 1742, transferred to the Moravians more than fifty
societies, which he had been the instrument of raising in two of the
northern counties. Westley Hall, the fourth, need not here be further
mentioned. Gambold, the fifth, was the only one who died in the Moravian
communion. The step he took was well-considered. He might seem odd; but
he was unquestionably sincere. The Moravians in England were only of a
few years’ standing, and had many faults; but there was one thing in
existence among them, and practised by them, after which Gambold, newly
converted, longed with the utmost earnestness,—Christian fellowship.
Of this, there was none at Stanton-Harcourt; and it was only now, in
1742, that his old friend Wesley thoroughly succeeded in making such a
provision for the Methodists, by dividing their Societies into Classes.
This was the thing for which Gambold pined. It could be enjoyed nowhere
except among either Wesley’s people or the Moravians. Gambold and Wesley
were no longer friends; and, hence, the union of Gambold with the
Brethren. With this view, he applied to them for admission, committing
himself to their direction, and having no choice with regard to any
station or office to be held by him in the future. In the beginning of
October, 1742, he simply writes:—

    “Having had assurance that such a favour might be granted, I
    left my parish with a view to live wholly with the Brethren.”

Of course he had previously communicated his intention to the Bishop of
Oxford, and also to his patron, Lord Harcourt; and both had strongly
urged him to change his purpose: but his resolution was fixed. In due
form he resigned his living, and issued an address to his parishioners,
of which the following is the substance:—

    “It is not in consequence of any resentment, or of any worldly
    motive that I give up my parish. I have not so implicitly
    given up my judgment to others as to be prevailed upon, by
    their persuasion, to take this step. The reason for my so
    doing is well grounded, and to my own satisfaction. It does
    not, I assure you, proceed from any dislike that I have to the
    worship of God in the Church of England. I find no fault with
    any passage or clause in the Common Prayer Book. Nor can I,
    in justice, be considered in the same light with such persons
    as slight and forsake one party of Christians and go over to
    another without sufficient cause. But that which has determined
    the choice I have made, was the earnest desire I found in
    myself of that improvement in the knowledge of the Gospel,
    and in the experience of the grace of Jesus Christ, which I
    stood in need of. The blessings purchased by the blood of the
    Shepherd of our souls, I longed to enjoy in fellowship with a
    little flock of His sheep, who daily feed on the merits of His
    passion, and whose great concern is to build up one another in
    their most holy faith, and to propagate the truth, as it is
    in Jesus, for the good of others. His gracious presence, the
    power of His Word, and the virtue of His blood, I wanted to
    have a more lively sense of, for my own comfort and support
    in the Christian warfare; and I had reason to hope for those
    means of happiness, especially where brethren dwell together in
    unity, for there the Lord commandeth His blessing and life for
    evermore. This is all I aim at in withdrawing myself from you;
    and may this departure give no offence to any one.

    “I now take my last adieu, and earnestly pray for you and for
    myself. For myself, that I may be faithful to the grace of our
    Lord Jesus Christ, and prove His servant, truly devoted to
    Him, where I am going; and may you, where you remain, be as
    obedient to the influence of His Spirit and the dictates of His
    word as I wish to be; so shall we one day rejoice before the
    Great Shepherd of our souls, that merciful and compassionate
    Saviour, in whom there is, in the meantime, life, peace, and
    joy for all believers. I do not go from you because I cannot
    live in the Church of England, as an outward profession, or
    because I prefer any other form of ecclesiastical government
    before that which is by law established in this kingdom; but
    the inducement which leads me to this change, is the great
    concern I have for the attainment of a happy state of mind;
    and, to compass this end, no means, through the blessing of
    God, appear to me so proper as a free intercourse with those
    who are of the same principles with my own, to whom I may
    communicate without reserve; and from whom I can receive that
    assistance of advice and comfort, which is necessary for a
    person encompassed with such infirmities as I am. I heartily
    wish you may derive more benefit from the instructions of my
    successor, than you have, or could have done, from mine; and I
    trust this will be the case.”

Nothing need be added to this, except the remark that, in these days,
when the utility and necessity of meetings for religious fellowship are
so boldly called in question, an argument in their favour may be taken
from the yearning experience of this Oxford Methodist.

Gambold spent twenty-nine years in close and active connection with
the Moravians; but his life, compared with the career of Wesley and of
Whitefield, was uneventful.

At the time of his admission, “the congregation of the Lamb, with its
officers and servants as settled in London,” consisted of twenty-one
married men, thirteen married women, three widowers, five widows, sixteen
single men, and fourteen single women, a total of seventy-two persons.
This was a small affair. The Moravians had the start of Wesley’s society
in London; and yet that Society, in February, 1743, numbered not fewer
than 1950 members.[129] It is also a curious fact, that, nearly one half
of the Moravian Society were office-bearers; that is, “Congregation
Elders, Vice Elders, Eldresses, Waiters, Choristers, Admonitors, Censors,
Servants, and Sick Waiters.” Excepting Gambold and James Hutton, none
seem to have had the advantages of education; and, probably, all the men
were tradesmen, journeymen, or mechanics.[130] This was the society
Gambold joined, for the sake of Christian fellowship.

His stay in London was not long. On the 14th of May, 1743, he married,
and, for eighteen months afterwards, abode in Wales, chiefly at
Haverfordwest, where he kept a school, and preached occasionally.

Gambold returned to London in November, 1744; and here, with trifling
exceptions, he seems to have resided until his death, in 1771. Here,
at Fetter Lane, he preached with power, eloquence, and sacred unction;
and numbers were benefited by his ministry. His views of baptism, and
his mode of administering it, may be gathered from a paragraph in the
“Memoirs of James Hutton,” where, under date of September 13, 1745, it is
said,—

    “Gambold baptized Brother Fell’s little boy. He spoke on
    baptism, and said, ‘it was a delivering a child over into the
    death of our Saviour.’ After prayer, he took the child into
    his arms, and, taking water three times, he baptized him in
    the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost;
    then, singing some verses, he carried the child round to the
    labourers who were present, who blessed him by laying on of
    hands.”

As already stated, the Moravian Society in London was small; but
its meetings were numerous. From a list of the “public and private
opportunities of the Brethren at London, throughout the whole week,” in
February, 1747, we learn that they had four sermons every Sunday, two
in English and two in German; also German preaching every Tuesday, and
English every Tuesday and Thursday. Besides these services, however,
there were twenty-two others on Sunday, six on Monday, five on Tuesday,
thirteen on Wednesday, nine on Thursday, five on Friday, and five on
Saturday, making seventy-two religious services every week, exclusive
of monthly general meetings, prayer days, children’s prayer days, and
sacraments. To what extent Gambold took part in these Moravian meetings,
it is impossible to say; but, numerically considered, there was, beyond a
doubt, sufficient scope to gratify his longings for religious fellowship.

In 1747, Gambold, accompanied by Ingham, Okeley, Hutton, and Cennick,
paid a visit to Hernhaag, where he continued for several months, and
gained the respect and love of all who knew him. His visit was at an
important crisis in the Brethren’s history; and, probably, was occasioned
by the disastrous fanaticism which had broken out in that important
settlement. In 1738, a building was begun at Hernhaag, designed to serve
as an asylum for persons educated in the German Calvinistic Church,
and persecuted on account of their connection with the Brethren. In
1740, a congregation was regularly organized; and, in a few years,
Hernhaag contained a greater number of inhabitants than Herrnhut. Here
boarding-schools were established for the education of the children of
the Moravian ministers, whether employed in the service of the church
at home or in foreign lands; and the place altogether was one of great
importance. In 1746, however, there was the utmost danger of this
Christian settlement being ruined. Here began an evil, which soon became
widespread, and which required vigorous and long-continued efforts to
annihilate. The following is extracted from Holmes’ “History of the
Protestant Church of the United Brethren” (Vol. i., p. 399).

    “In their zeal to root out self-righteousness, the Brethren
    were not sufficiently on their guard against levity of
    expression. The delight they took in speaking of the sufferings
    of Christ, which arose from the penetrating sense they had of
    their infinite value, by degrees degenerated into fanciful
    representations of the various scenes of His passion. Their
    style, in speaking and writing, lost its former plainness
    and simplicity, and became turgid, puerile, and fanatical,
    abounding in playful allusions to Christ as the Lamb, the
    Bridegroom, etc., by which He is described in holy writ,
    and in fanciful representations of the wound in His side.
    In describing the spiritual relation between Christ and His
    Church, the highly figurative language of the Canticles was
    substituted in the place of the dignified simplicity, used by
    our Saviour and His apostles, when speaking on this subject.
    Some less-experienced preachers even seemed to vie with
    each other in introducing, into their discourses, the most
    extravagant, and often wholly unintelligible, expressions.
    This kept the hearers in a state of constant excitement, but
    was not calculated to subject every thought of the heart to
    the obedience of Christ. Religion, instead of enlightening the
    understanding, governing the affections, and regulating the
    general conduct, became a play of the imagination.

    “This species of fanaticism first broke out at Herrnhaag, in
    the year 1746, and, from thence, spread into several other
    congregations. Many were carried away by it, for it seemed to
    promise a certain joyous perfection, representing believers as
    innocent, playful children, who might be quite at their ease
    amidst all the trials and difficulties incident to the present
    life. The effect produced was such as might be expected. The
    more serious members of the church (and these after all formed
    the major part) bitterly lamented an evil, which they could not
    at once eradicate. Others, considering the malady as incurable,
    withdrew from its communion. The behaviour of such as were most
    infected with this error, though not immoral and criminal,
    was yet highly disgraceful to their Christian profession. Had
    not God in mercy averted the impending danger, a spirit of
    religious levity and antinomianism might, by degrees, have
    sapped the very foundation of the Brethren’s Church, and
    completed her ruin.”

What part Gambold took in this affair at Herrnhaag, and with what
results, we have no means of knowing; but certain it is, that, this
pestiferous lusciousness spread to England, and, for many a long year
afterwards, disgraced the Moravian hymns, and justly exposed the
Moravians themselves to the censures and taunts of both friends and
foes. It would be easy to quote instances illustrative of this, from
the English Moravian Hymn Book, “published chiefly for the Use of the
Congregations in Union with the Brethren’s Church,” in 1754; but the
reader would not be edified by such quotations.

The Moravians in England, when compared with the Methodists, could hardly
be considered a prosperous community. From the first, a considerable
number of their members belonged to other churches; and, in 1749,
an effort was made to multiply such extra-ecclesiastical adherents,
by instituting what was called an English Tropus, the object being
to provide a means whereby the members of other communities, and,
notably, of the Church of England, might be enrolled in the Moravian
Brotherhood, without severing themselves from the churches of which
they already formed a part. This was one of the subjects discussed at a
synod held in London in the above-mentioned year; and, to facilitate the
matter, Gambold addressed the following letter “To Papa, _i.e._ Count
Zinzendorf,” the beginning of which, to mention nothing else, shows how
far even Gambold had fallen into the offensive use of the adulatory
language of Moravian sycophants.

    “MOST DEAR AND PATERNAL HEART.—A certain reflection has
    this day arisen in my mind, which, such as it is, I wish to
    communicate to you. I perceive that you and your faithful
    colleagues are earnestly labouring to bring it about, that,
    those, who flee from the fold of the Anglican religion, may
    not be completely cut off from the said religion; but still
    continue in ecclesiastical bond with it; and, therefore, you
    propose to constitute an Anglican tropus among the Brethren,—an
    object most dear to us, and with the greatest propriety
    recommended; inasmuch as it is beginning, as I imagine, to be
    thought desirable by the clergy of this country also. I greatly
    fear, however, that there are, in their hierarchy, certain
    deficiencies which may occasion some obstruction to the consent
    of the majority; moreover, other considerations may oppose the
    arrangement, that one prelate (the others being unconsulted,
    except, perhaps, synodically), should be able to concede this
    privilege.

    “Two special means, or symbols of union, are contained, as I
    understand, under the word Tropus. ONE REQUISITE is, that some
    prelate of the Anglican Church should be invested with the
    office of examining into such matters as the Brethren agitate,
    and, on the part of his Church, and with the seal of the same,
    assisting at their ordinations. The _other requisite_ is,
    that the Liturgy, or Prayers of the Anglican Church should be
    admitted in our assembly. The _former_ involves the appointment
    of prudent political men; the _latter_ provides for the
    security of religious, pious persons sustaining any injury
    from us; tending, moreover, to the abatement of disaffection
    as respects both communities, and to their mutual benefit and
    salvation. I, therefore, earnestly desire the accomplishment of
    the design.

    “What evil, in the mean time, could ensue if the whole Book
    of Prayers of the Anglican Church should occasionally be used
    in public; not at this time as prayers, but as text; and an
    explanation occasionally given as to the passages which, with
    us, may seem to require some explanation? Certain exceedingly
    grand portions of sacred Scripture which are intermingled
    with these may, in this service, be omitted as being beyond
    all dispute; and so, in six or eight prelections, or short
    discourses, the whole may be finished. The service may, with
    propriety, be preceded by some such introduction as the
    following:

    “Inasmuch as we and some other nurslings of the Anglican
    Church, who have embraced the spiritual aid of the Moravian
    Brethren, yet certainly with no design, by so doing, of
    departing from our own proper religion; being, however, in
    such situation, it manifestly follows that we constitute an
    assembly which is extraordinary and extra-parochial, being
    _ecclesiastically_ made up out of various parishes; and that
    we, moreover, have a sacred place of meeting, which certainly
    is not a parish church; consequently many will immediately
    conclude that we are now of a different mind, and that we have
    altogether forsaken the Anglican Church. Such, however, would
    be an erroneous opinion. That we constitute such a society
    or assembly as we have mentioned, arises from our desire to
    exercise that salutary and vigorous discipline which the
    Anglican Church pants for; but, by reason of its exceeding
    magnitude, cannot maintain; that we have a place in which we
    assemble, and a pulpit, arises from our delight in hearing
    the principal doctrine respecting the death and grace of our
    Redeemer more clearly and more fully enunciated there than
    can in these times be expected elsewhere, notwithstanding the
    same doctrine is maintained in the primary article of the
    Anglican Church. There is, therefore, no reason why we should
    be offended with the Church of our fatherland; and let it not
    so tenaciously disallow to us those superadded aids for our
    benefit and edification which we now enjoy, and nothing will
    be more agreeable to us than (provided these be preserved with
    a good conscience) henceforward still to preserve with it
    the bond of unity. For we are able to do so both openly and
    sincerely. In testimony of this, we are prepared to adopt in
    our assemblies the Liturgy or Common Prayers of the Anglican
    Church. But, because, as we are informed, the use of the
    Anglican Liturgy, beyond the ordinary churches, will either be
    unlawful, or, at least, exceedingly offensive; and as a kind of
    secret disaffection, rather than amity, might arise therefrom
    with those whom, from the most sincere respect, we would not
    injure even in the least, we must therefore defer the adoption
    of this Liturgy, in our _proseucha_ or house of prayer, until
    full liberty of using it be granted to us by those who have the
    authority. In the meantime, however, in order to its being made
    manifest that what we have asserted is true, that union with
    the Church of our fatherland is possible, since no violence
    is thereby done to our conscience (providing there be left to
    us discipline and evangelization, neither one nor the other
    of which being opposed to the Anglican Church; nay, perhaps,
    more closely allied to it than some imagine),—let us proceed to
    examine in due order the whole liturgy of the Anglican Church.
    As to what others, who, diverging into sects, have departed
    from the Anglican fold, may have to object to this Liturgy I
    shall take no notice, for they and we are neither affected nor
    aggrieved by the same things. But, throughout this examination
    I shall make it my special care to omit nothing which can, in
    accordance with our light and principles, or indeed ever can,
    occasion any obstacle to any one of us. To such passages I
    shall assign that sense and exposition which I judge to have
    been, and to be, the true meaning; and, unless I am deceived,
    such will be found neither grievous nor unreasonable to the
    mind which is imbued with the dearer knowledge and love of the
    Saviour.’

    “I have run out further than is suitable for an introduction;
    but, as if carefully reviewing the whole matter in question,
    I have been imagining what effect would result from the
    procedure: the same that you also desire through the means of a
    _Tropus_, only more feebly and less constant. But why, in any
    degree, less constant? Because it is sufficiently constant,
    considering the novelty of the measure. Such a declaration
    would sink into the memory, and would be preserved by all as a
    memorial of the true mind and will of the Brethren.

    “Your most respectful son, and desiring to be excused, though
    some should prate beyond their measure,

                                                “JOHN GAMBOLD”.[131]

This long and tiresome letter is not without its use. For eight years,
Gambold had been a Moravian; he was in the vigour of his manhood; but
his mode of thinking and style of writing were not improved; nay, had
become as murky as the religious clouds in which he lived. Besides, he
was only eleven years the junior of Zinzendorf, and was naturally and
scholastically his equal, if not his superior; and, yet, contaminated
by the sycophancy of his associates, Gambold, the Oxford student, the
learned mystic, the dramatic poet, condescends to use the offensive
twaddle then so common, and must needs address the ambitious foreigner as
“Papa,” and “Most dear and paternal Heart.” Think of Wesley, or even of
Ingham, employing such epithets as these! The manliness of the man was
being dwarfed by the fooleries of his friends.

But, apart from this, Gambold’s letter is a curious production, and not
without interest at the present day, as containing a scheme for a kind of
amalgamation of some of the Moravians with the Established Church. The
Moravians differed from the Methodists; for Zinzendorf, at the very Synod
held immediately after the date of Gambold’s letter, formally announced
that the English Moravians were “now openly in the eye of the world
acknowledged to be a Church;” whereas Wesley, to the day of his death,
denied this distinction to the Methodists, affirming, in the strongest
terms, that the Methodists were not a Church, but only _Societies within_
a Church. Thus, the position of the two communities was different. To
be consistent, the Methodists might have claimed, and, indeed, ought to
have claimed, membership with some existing Church, beyond the circle
of the Society enclosure; but, according to Zinzendorf and the London
Synod of 1749, the Moravians were themselves a Church; and, hence, for
any Moravian, like Gambold, to profess himself a member of the Anglican
Church, was, in point of fact, to claim to be a member of two Churches
instead of one. This was a grave inconsistency; but, in accordance with
Gambold’s suggestions, an attempt was made to carry it into effect.

The proposed Synod met in London, in September, 1749; and “the Most
Reverend Thomas Wilson, Bishop of Sodor and Man,” already in the
eighty-sixth year of his age, with great formality, and with a pomp of
language almost startling, was “chosen into the order and number of the
Anetecessors of the General Synod of the Brethren of the Anatolic Unity.”
It was also decreed further, “that, the aforesaid Most Reverend Prelate
ought to be offered the administration of the Reformed tropus in our
hierarchy for life, with full liberty, in case of _emergency_, to employ,
as his substitute, the Rev. Thomas Wilson, Royal Almoner, Doctor of
Theology, and Prebendary of St. Peter’s, Westminster.”

The good old Bishop, with joy and thankfulness, accepted the office
to which the Moravians had elected him;[132] and, thus, Gambold and
Zinzendorf succeeded in securing the patronage of an English Prelate.
Practically, the arrangement was of little use, perhaps of none at all.
Five years afterwards, the venerable and pious Bishop was gathered to his
fathers, at the age of ninety-one.

Moravianism and its illustrious “Papa” had now arrived at the zenith
of their offensive ambition. It would be useless, and also far from
pleasant, to disinter the history of the Moravian Brotherhood at this
important crisis. A few of the facts have been mentioned in Ingham’s
Memoir; and nothing more need now be added, except, that, while
Zinzendorf was almost idolatrously honoured by the Moravians themselves,
he was the subject of severe but just attacks outside the pale of his own
community. Prudently, though perhaps somewhat arrogantly, he generally
declined to defend himself, partly on the ground that royalty always
acted thus; but he found it desirable to do something else which was
almost tantamount to this. In this same year, 1749, he published, in his
own private printing-office, a folio volume of 184 pages, entitled, “Acta
Fratrum Unitatis in Angliâ, 1749;” the whole of which, with the exception
of the sixth section of the second part, was translated or edited by
Gambold. The first part of this curious work consists entirely of Acts
of Parliament and Reports of Parliamentary Committees in reference to
the Brethren, together with original documents adduced as proofs of
the propositions which had been made. The second part embraces:—1. A
paraphrase of the twenty-one Articles of the Confession of Augsburg; 2.
The Brethren’s method of preaching the Gospel according to the Synod of
Berne; 3. The Moravian Litany; 4. Extracts from the Minutes of Moravian
Synods; 5. Zinzendorf’s _Rationale_ of the Brethren’s Liturgies; 6.
Original passages from the writings of the early fathers of the Church,
and of theologians of the middle ages.

This was not the only service which Gambold rendered to Zinzendorf and
the Moravians. On June 4, 1750, he sent to Spangenberg a long letter,
which was afterwards published in a pamphlet, with the title, “An Essay
towards giving some just ideas of the personal character of Count
Zinzendorf, the present Advocate and Ordinary of the Brethren’s Church:
In several Letters wrote by Eye-Witnesses. Published by James Hutton,
late of Westminster, and now of Chelsea. London, 1755.” 8vo. Gambold’s
letter is too long for insertion here; but throughout it is a vindication
of the Count,—the best doubtless that Gambold could supply,—and a few
extracts may be useful:—

    “There are a great number of thinking persons, who, if the
    bear-skin could be taken off from the Brethren, would directly
    be well satisfied with that somewhat extraordinary, but yet
    reasonable, zeal for the fundamentals of Christianity, which,
    after all, is the Brethren’s whole mystery and peculiarity.”

    “The Brethren’s Church has, at present, an illustrious nobleman
    both for her Advocate and Ordinary; and most of the hard
    imputations cast upon her by her antagonists are levelled
    against him, and either arise from or imply a misunderstanding
    of his true character. He is an _extraordinary_ person or
    genius, and, as such, requires to be looked at in a particular
    point of view, if one will avoid error. I will, therefore, do
    nothing else but set down to that end some remarks which occur
    to me, from ten or eleven years’ acquaintance with him.”

    “Count Zinzendorf has in him something unlike other people. But
    what is it? A very tender and deep-rooted _love to our blessed
    Redeemer_, and the highest and most _honourable conceptions of
    His atonement_. He willingly believes, as the New Testament
    supposes, that the bitter sufferings of the Saviour are
    alone able to _enervate_, as well as atone for sin; and the
    contemplation and influence of His tormented person, to effect
    our _sanctification_ in all its branches. And all the hearty
    expressions to the honour of Jesus, that are found in ancient
    Hymns, or Meditations of pious Divines, (which, because mankind
    do not always keep up to the same strain of truth, are unjustly
    looked upon as flights and raptures), are with him serious
    principles.”

    “Some have censured him for introducing, or suffering to be
    introduced, some new _Phrases_, and delivering assertions which
    have the look of _Paradoxes_; but these Phrases and Paradoxes,
    when examined to the bottom, are orthodox; and, if not
    _verbatim_ used in former ages, are, at least, parallel to the
    always received theological language; and, upon some occasions,
    are necessary, and happily effectual, to set people a-thinking,
    and to recover in their minds the full idea belonging to many
    terms and sayings over which they, by frequent repetition, have
    fallen asleep, and forgot the force and import of them. In the
    same view, he also likes very much to translate the Scriptures
    in a free, round manner, and in modern words.”

    “The same jealousy to keep the word of God from being robbed
    of its energy, has led him to oppose another abuse. Many
    pious people, though not sleepy and unmoved by the words they
    repeat, yet amidst their best emotion, have only vague and
    indeterminate ideas, nor can it be known precisely what they
    mean. Now, though a dealer in mere metaphors and allegories may
    be a very good soul, yet, it is not for the honour of God, that
    its doctrine should rest upon such a foundation; but all its
    assertions must rather be literally ascertainable realities,
    in the same manner as physical ones are, upon a nearer
    experience; and this is the motive of his bringing spiritual
    matters to a point, under a clothing and illustration somewhat
    _philosophical_, for a season, until the supposition that those
    matters are only something _shadowy_, and not substance, is
    exploded.”

    “His original design was purely to preach and recommend his
    Saviour to mankind at large, wherever he could find audience.
    It was wholly accidental, and by him unsought, that he has
    been entrusted with the direction of a particular Church.
    However others may look upon the occurrences in the Brethren’s
    congregation, _he_ is always deeply struck with _reverence_
    for our Saviour’s immediate guidance of, and benediction over
    the whole, which occasions his using, sometimes about things
    which others may account small or common, that _magnificence_
    of expression which is observable in him. The same tender
    attention to his Master’s mind and order, renders him
    sometimes, when he apprehends any deviation therefrom, more
    _vehement_ in his manner, than is incident to those who have
    not zeal enough ever to be constrained in spirit. Upon this
    account, he has been thought magisterial; but very unjustly,
    for, abstracting from the fervour, which, in an agony of
    faithfulness, he may at such times discover, he is ready to be
    informed by any one, distrustful of himself, extremely moderate
    towards those against whom he may be expected to be sharp, and
    not at all fond of power.

    “Further, from a long experience in regard to congregations, he
    sometimes delivers his opinion about the method of carrying on
    the Gospel work in a very systematical manner, implying, one
    might think, a great deal of _policy_; but, when his counsels
    are traced to their first idea, they are always an inculcation
    of one or other of the known maxims of our Saviour, with only
    a more direct application to special and present cases than is
    common.

    “He is deeply persuaded of the blessed ends attained by
    gathering some of the children of God together into such
    little _congregations_ as he has the care of; but he is also
    fully convinced, not only that there are many more of God’s
    children remaining scattered in the several _Christian parties_
    and societies; but even that the establishments, confessions,
    forms of worship, etc., in those societies, have a blessed
    effect for the salvation of such. For which reason, if the
    hearts on all sides did but permit things to go according to
    his mind, the souls who are quickened to spiritual life, even
    through the necessity of the Brethren, should, notwithstanding,
    remain generally in the communion and way they had been brought
    up in, without the least affront or infringement offered
    thereto.

    “His _noble_ way of thinking, in several other particulars,
    will not so much recommend him at first sight, as expose him
    to censure; but noble it is, however, and will be found best
    in the end. He is against using any _compulsion_ with hearts,
    who ought to be led by the love of the Saviour, and by a new
    nature; and is endeavouring to bring the discipline of the
    congregation to such a temperature, as that it may assist a
    work of grace where it is, but not mimic it where it is not. In
    pursuance of which principle, he rather tolerates (with secret
    grief and employing only distant hints), several unessential
    faults of those about him, than correct them with detriment to
    the ingenuity of spirit. These faults are charged upon him; as
    for instance, a few ill-judged flights of spiritual joy and
    cheerfulness, which he discerned to be such from the beginning,
    but would not retrench them, because they would not subside
    of themselves; and the _true_ Christian gaiety of spirit is
    too valuable a jewel to hazard the breaking of it, by a rough
    blow in the polishing. So far goes the generosity of his
    conceptions, that he is resolved to drop the whole fabric of
    the congregation, if ever the life and spirit should be found
    to have left it. No wonder, then, that he insists upon adapting
    the outward worship, from time to time, to the inward state of
    the members; so that the Liturgy, from honesty and not from
    fickleness, is capable of many _progressive gradations_, and
    even of _retrogradations_, rather than fall into hypocrisy.

    “In short, the person I have been speaking of is a plain man,
    who proceeds straight forward; and, amidst all the richness
    of his active and extensive genius, will always be serving
    and inculcating one only point, namely, the _meritorious
    sufferings of our Creator_,—a point by which alone Christians
    are distinguished from Deists.”

How far this serves as a vindication or apology, the reader must form
his own opinion; but it exhibits the fidelity of Gambold to his German
leader, and also indicates some of the principles which Gambold himself
entertained at this period of his history.

Gambold did more than this for the censured Zinzendorf. In 1751, a five
shillings volume was published, with the title, “Maxims, Theological
Ideas, and Sentences, out of the present Ordinary of the Brethren’s
Dissertations and Discourses, from the year 1738 to 1747. Extracted by
John Gambold, M.A. 8vo.” In his Preface, Gambold writes:—

    “Every one has heard, in some light or other, this _noble
    person’s_ name mentioned. To judge _impartially_ of him, we are
    to look back at what he has preached in a course of several
    years, especially since the _discourses_, by their nature and
    circumstances, were such a _free out-pouring of his heart_.”

To this there could be no objection; but it may be doubted whether
Gambold’s extracts were as _impartial_ as he wished them to be regarded.

In 1753, Gambold rendered another service to the Count, by the
publication of “The Ordinary’s Remarks upon the manner of his being
treated in Controversy. Translated from the High-Dutch, with a Preface,
by John Gambold, Minister of the Moravian Chapel in Fetter Lane.”

And shortly after this, in 1754, Gambold issued, “A Modest Plea for the
Church of the Brethren,” of which publication, Lavington, Bishop of
Exeter, wrote:—

    “The whole drift of this pamphlet is to commend their sect in
    _general_ terms, without answering any one _accusation_ brought
    against them.”[133]

Lavington was a bitter antagonist, and what he says must be received with
caution; but still, the very title of Gambold’s production indicates that
the Brethren’s Church was hardly perfect.

More than this. In 1754, was published the largest hymn-book in the
English language: “A Collection of Hymns of the Children of God in all
Ages, from the Beginning till now. In two Parts. Designed chiefly for
the Use of the Congregations in Union with the Brethren’s Church.”
Two Volumes, pp. 380, and 390.[134] 8vo. Zinzendorf projected this;
but Gambold was his chief editor.[135] The Preface, which probably
was Gambold’s production, contains the following description of the
Brotherhood:—

    “The Brethren’s grand topic, in their hymns, as every one
    may see, is the Person and Propitiation of Jesus Christ.
    They collect, as in the _focus_ of a burning glass, what
    has descended to them from past ages, or properly from the
    Bible itself, upon this head; and, that it may not be evaded
    under the notion of _dicta ardentia_, they present it in a
    system, and apply that system to practice. They affirm our
    free acceptance with God as sinners, and through pure grace,
    and yet the necessity of, and powerful assistances for, a most
    real holiness of life afterwards, with such a warmth, upon
    each of these subjects successively, that many a reader runs
    away with the supposition of their over-doing on that side he
    happened to take notice of, for want of waiting the balance.
    They cherish, as an hereditary platform from their ancestors,
    a very high persuasion of, and very strict rules concerning,
    a New Testament Church. To mention but one peculiarity more,
    they continually betray a burning propensity to the work of
    propagating the Gospel of peace. If any one finds more things
    uttered in this spirit, than he can make application of in his
    sphere, let him remember that these are a people, very many of
    whose members have such a call. Above a hundred of them have
    already consumed and laid down their mortal tabernacles in
    ministering the Gospel to the heathen.”

The last statement is remarkable, and greatly to the honour of the
Brethren’s Church, especially when it is remembered that only thirty
years had elapsed since the Church was founded at Herrnhuth, in Germany.

From these brief notices of his literary labours, it will be seen, that,
Gambold was a faithful, unflinching friend of the illustrious Count.
The English Moravians were passing through the terrible crisis already
mentioned in the Memoir of Ingham. They were nearly wrecked; and not
undeservedly. Ingham left them; but Gambold did his utmost to defend
them; and, as the chief English member of their community, was ordained
a “_Chor-Episcopus_,” in other words, an Assistant Bishop. The ceremony
took place at a Synod, held at Lindsey House, London, in November,
1754; and was performed by Bishops Watteville, and John and David
Nitschmann.[136]

Little more remains to be told of this sincere and devoted man. For
seventeen years, he wore the honours of his office “with humility and
diffidence.” The writer of the Memoir, prefixed to Gambold’s works,
remarks:—

    “Such a Bishop would have justly been esteemed an honour to
    any Church, whether ancient or modern, if disinterestedness
    of spirit, humility of mind, devotion of heart, a benevolent
    disposition towards all men, and a voluntary submission to the
    service, not only of the Church in general, but of every member
    thereof, though in the most inferior situation, be the proper
    qualifications and distinguished ornaments of the Christian
    Episcopacy.”

It has been already stated, that, of the thousands of sermons which
Gambold preached, during the thirty-eight years of his Christian
ministry, only two were printed. One of these was delivered, before the
University of Oxford, in 1741; the other, in Fetter Lane Chapel, London,
on a National Fast Day, in 1756.

At the latter period, the nation was in a state of great excitement and
alarm. War with France was inevitable. February 6, 1756, was observed as
a day of humiliation and prayer. Such a fast in London had not been seen
since the Restoration. Business was suspended; and churches and chapels
everywhere were crowded. Gambold’s sermon was founded upon the text,
“Tremble, thou Earth, at the presence of the Lord;” and, when published,
was entitled, “The Reasonableness and Extent of Religious Reverence.”
Though somewhat metaphysical in its style, and mode of reasoning, it
displays ability, and is worth perusing.

So far as is known, there are only two other works with the publication
of which Gambold was connected.[137] One was a beautiful and
comprehensive Catechism, of about sixty pages, 12mo, published in the
year 1765, with the title, “A Short Summary of Christian Doctrine, in
the Way of Question and Answer: The Answers being all made in the sound
and venerable Words of the Common Prayer Book of the Church of England.
To which are added, Some Extracts out of the Homilies. Collected for
the Service of a few Persons, Members of the _Established Church_; but
imagined not to be unuseful to others.” Two facts are made manifest by
this publication; namely, that, Gambold’s creed was orthodox; and that,
notwithstanding his Moravian bishopric, he had still a warm affection for
the Church of England.

The other book, referred to above, was Cranz’s History of Greenland. This
was, in the first instance, published in Germany; but the General Synod
of 1765, directed that it should be translated into English; and a great
part of the translation, and the whole of the editing was devolved upon
Gambold. The work was published, in London, in 1767, with the following
title: “The History of Greenland: containing a Description of the Country
and its Inhabitants; and particularly a Relation of the Mission carried
on, for above thirty years, by the Unitas Fratrum at New Herrnhuth and
Lichtenfels, in that Country. By David Cranz. Translated from the High
Dutch; and illustrated with Maps and other Copperplates. London, 1767.
Printed for the Brethren’s Society for the Furtherance of the Gospel
among the Heathen.” 8vo; vol. i., pp. 405; vol. ii., pp. 497.

About eighty copies were distributed among the nobility and gentry, for
the purpose of enlightening them respecting the Moravian Mission; and the
writer of the Memoirs of James Hutton, says:—

    “Although the work, in a pecuniary sense, was by no means
    profitable; yet, the distribution of the copies among the
    higher ranks, produced the happiest effects, by removing the
    prejudice which had been excited in the public mind, through
    the writings of the Bishop of Exeter, and others.”

For ten years after his episcopal ordination, Gambold resided chiefly
in London, employing himself in every branch of service for the
congregation settled there, and in regular correspondence with all his
fellow-labourers of the same communion throughout England.

In 1760, the death of Zinzendorf occurred; and four years later, a
General Synod was held at Marienborn, which Gambold attended. Besides
Himself, there were present, eleven bishops, forty-six presbyters,
deacons, and lay-elders, and thirty-seven deputies from different
congregations. It was opened, with great solemnity, on the 1st of July,
and continued its deliberations, by several adjournments, in forty-four
sessions, till the 29th of August.

Ten years had elapsed since the last General Synod; and, hence, many and
momentous were the questions that had to be considered. Their sphere of
labour had been considerably enlarged, especially in heathen countries.
There had been the long and embittered controversy in England. Some of
their Settlements had been disturbed and injured by the existing war.
Zinzendorf, their chief, had died; and the debt of the Brethren’s Church
amounted to the alarming sum of £150,000.[138] It is unnecessary to
enter into the details of this important Conference. Suffice it to say,
that, from this period, Moravianism became a purer, healthier, and more
scriptural thing than it had been before.

Gambold secured the respect and love of the Brethren composing this
General Synod; and was in a position to be of greater service to his
community than ever. His work, however, was nearly ended. After the
sessions of the Synod were concluded, he returned to London, where he
continued to reside till 1768, when he was seized with “a dropsical
asthma,” from which his sufferings were such, that his friends, who were
about him, apprehended that every day would be his last. Hoping to be
benefited by the change, he removed to his native air; and, for a time,
there were flickering hopes of amended health. Wishing to render himself
useful to the Brethren’s Church at Haverfordwest, he exerted his failing
energies to the utmost. As far as he was able, he visited the sick, and
poor, and tried to comfort them in their distresses. When he could, he
preached; his last text being “Set your affections on things above.” When
not able to preach in public, he explained the Scriptures in private, and
held fellowship with his Christian friends. His work was done; and it
only remains to see how the Oxford Methodist, and Moravian Bishop died.

In a letter dated October 11, 1770, after stating that his asthma was so
relieved that he could now lie down in bed, and obtain a little sleep, he
continued:—

    “I ought to be thankful for every mitigation of pain; but
    it becomes, I think, plainer than ever, that I have a real
    attack of the dropsy, which whether I shall get the better of
    it, or it, by and by, get the better of me, is a question. I
    totter on my legs, and, though I look pretty well, yet there
    are few intervals in the day wherein I have anything like
    strength either of body or mind. However, I set no bounds to
    my Saviour’s power, if He sees it good to continue me here
    a little longer; but it is hardly to be any more expected
    in my case. I really do all I can to support my impaired
    constitution, and walk, most days, a little in the chapel
    or burying-ground, till I am ready to drop down. All that I
    can properly desire of my gracious Lord is, that, He would
    be merciful to me an unworthy sinner, wash me from all my
    unfaithfulness and transgressions in His blood, keep me in
    communion with Himself and His people, help me to behave
    rightly, at least not offensively, in my sickness, and be
    perceptibly near to me in my last hour, whenever it is to be.”

In another letter, dated July 28, 1771, he wrote:—

    “The writing of the few lines before the present, was the work
    of several days, attended with more difficulty and pain than
    any one is able to conceive, who does not feel what I have
    suffered. But to complain is disagreeable to me. The constant
    prayer of my heart, most tenderly united with yours, is for the
    welfare and prosperity of the Church of God, and especially
    that part of it which is the immediate object of our care. May
    our faithful and best Friend, who purchased it with His blood,
    and is the supreme Head thereof, so defend His people amidst
    all opposition, and support His servants who labour in the word
    and doctrine, and have the general charge over His house, that
    the several members of it may increase in faith, hope, and
    love, to their comfort and joy.

    “With respect to myself, if I may judge from what I feel, I
    can think no otherwise than that I am very near the end of my
    course. Therefore, all my prayers are centred in this, that my
    gracious Lord may wash me, a sinner, in His blood, and abide
    always near me, especially in my last extremity.”

The last time that he attended the public celebration of the Lord’s
Supper, was only five days before his death. At the conclusion of it,
weak and wasted as he was, he commenced singing a verse of praise and
thanksgiving, and the impression produced was such, that the whole
congregation began to weep.

From the nature of his disease, it was seldom he could sleep; but he
was always patient and confiding. “All He does is well done,” said he;
“let us only look to Him, and the end will be blessed.” He was deeply
thankful for the kind offices of his friends, and especially for those
of his loving wife, who nursed him, in every stage of his illness, with
the greatest tenderness. Just before the close of all his sufferings, he
was heard to pray: “Dear Saviour! remember my poor name, and come, come
soon!” His prayer was answered. Shortly after these words were uttered,
he peacefully expired, on September 13, 1771, leaving behind him,
besides his widow, two children, a son and a daughter, to lament their
loss.[139]

Gambold, like Wesley, wrote an epitaph on himself; and, as it is a fair
specimen of the better class of his poetical productions, it is here
subjoined:—

    “Ask not, who ended here his span?
    His name, reproach, and praise, was—Man.
    Did no great deeds adorn his course
    No deed of his, but show’d him worse!
    One thing was great, which God supplied,
    He suffered human life,—and died.
    What points of knowledge did he gain?
    That life was sacred all,—and vain;
    Sacred, how high? and vain, how low?
    He knew not here, but died to know.”

Though Bishop Gambold was a man of great learning, and of extensive
reading, especially in the early writings of the Christian Church, he
himself was not a voluminous author. Excepting his translations, and
the works he merely edited, all that he published of his own were two
sermons; his Short Summary of Christian Doctrine; a few Prefaces; and
some brief Hymns and Poems. In this respect, he differed widely from his
old friend Wesley. Then again, though an able and effective preacher,
his pulpit exercises were almost entirely confined to the small village
of Stanton-Harcourt, and the Brethren’s Chapel in Fetter Lane, London.
In this also, he differed, not only from Wesley, but from Whitefield.
Still, it would be incorrect to say, that his life, to a great extent,
was a useless one. Wesley, after publishing one of Gambold’s poetic
pieces, is reported to have said: “And this light was buried _under a
bushel_! How might he have enlightened all Christendom!”[140] We scarcely
concur in this. Gambold, notwithstanding his learning and his piety, was
constitutionally too timorous and retiring to be the man to enlighten
all Christendom; but, at the same time, he was of such service to the
Moravian Church, that, it is an extravagance to say, “his light was
buried under a bushel.” With all its weaknesses, follies, and faults, at
the beginning of its history, the Moravian Brotherhood set a Christian
and heroic example to other Churches, in its missions to the heathen; and
the man who chiefly helped to edify, purify, improve, and perpetuate such
a community, did no mean service to the cause of the Divine Redeemer.
Gambold’s poetry has been over-estimated by Methodist and Moravian
writers; and, perhaps also, his natural ability and learning; but all
must admit, that he was an exceedingly devout and earnest Christian;
and that, though he might, for a season, be somewhat tainted with
the religious lusciousness of the early Moravian society, his moral
character, from first to last, was without a speck.

Perhaps it ought to be added, that, a beautiful portrait of Gambold
was painted by Abraham Louis Brandt, an earnest and laborious Moravian
minister, and that an exquisite engraving from the original picture was
prefixed to Gambold’s works, when first published in 1789.




REV. JAMES HERVEY, M.A., THE LITERARY PARISH-PRIEST.


James Hervey, with great appropriateness, was designated by Charles
Wesley, the “Isocrates” of the Oxford Methodists.[141] The old Greek
rhetorician was not an orator; the weakness of his voice and his
natural timidity prevented that; but the polish of his style in writing
and the harmonious construction of his sentences obtained for him a
fame which seems to be undying. And so in regard to Hervey. He lacked
Whitefield’s eloquence, and Wesley’s constructive faculty; but he had
a peculiar mental quality, which invested his productions with an air
of gracefulness beyond the power of either of his friends to imitate.
Critics, great and small, genuine and pretentious, have condemned
Hervey’s style; and yet, notwithstanding this, few books have passed
through more editions than his have done; and, after the lapse of a
hundred years since their author’s death, few are greater favourites at
the present day. Why is this? Perhaps some of his censors can answer the
question.

James Hervey, like the Wesleys and Gambold, was the son of a country
clergyman. He was born at Hardingstone, near Northampton, on the 26th
of February, 1714; his father holding the two neighbouring livings
of Weston-Favel and Collingtree. His ancestors appear to have been
highly respectable. One of them was a judge; another had been member
of Parliament for the town of Northampton; and the patronage of the
above-mentioned livings had been, for many years, in the possession of
the family.

Until the age of seven, Hervey was under the tuition of his mother. He
then became a day-scholar in the free grammar school at Northampton,
where he displayed great dexterity in the usual gymnastic exercises of
boys like himself; and where, in the course of ten years, he learned
enough of the Latin and Greek languages, to enable him to matriculate at
the Oxford University. His progress, however, would probably have been
greater than what it was, had it not been for the execrable conduct of
his master, who determined that no one in the school should learn faster
than his own stupid son. “Hervey himself told me,” says Mr. Ryland, “that
his master never made but one remark in reading the Greek Testament, and
that was a very foolish one.”

When only a boy, seventeen years of age, Hervey, full of youthful frolic,
left the quietude of his father’s house for the animated scenes, the high
advantages, and peculiar dangers of collegiate life. It was something
infinitely more sacred than an accident which led to his admission into
Lincoln College, where Wesley was a fellow and a tutor, and where,
for the last two years, the Methodists had frequently held their
meetings.[142]

The effects of the idleness enforced upon him at the Northampton free
grammar school, were felt at Oxford. It was difficult for a sprightly
and clever boy, like Hervey, to lay aside, all at once, the unstudious
habits of the last ten years, and to devote himself, with unflagging
earnestness, to the academical pursuits which now demanded his attention.
For two years, from 1731 to 1733, he was idle at Oxford, as he had been
obliged to be idle at Northampton. At the end of that time, he became
acquainted with the Methodists, and distinguished himself, as they also
did, by his devotion to the duties of religion, and to his collegiate
studies. Wesley rendered him considerable assistance, especially by
giving him instructions in the Hebrew language.

    “Oxon, Sept. 2, 1736. I hereby thank you, as for all other
    favours, so especially for teaching me Hebrew.”

Thus wrote Hervey, at the age of twenty-two, when he had taken his degree
of Bachelor of Arts, and was leaving the university to enter upon the
duties of the Christian ministry. Eleven years afterwards, when in the
midst of the fame arising from the recent publication of his “Meditations
among the Tombs,” etc., he wrote to Wesley another letter:—

                     “WESTON, NEAR NORTHAMPTON, _December 30, 1747_.

    “Assure yourself, dear sir, that I can never forget the
    tender-hearted and generous Fellow of Lincoln, who condescended
    to take such compassionate notice of a poor under-graduate,
    whom almost everybody condemned; and when no man cared for my
    soul.”[143]

Here we pause, to take a glance at Hervey during his five years’
residence at Oxford. John Gambold, writing of him, while he was still at
college, says:—

    “He is a man of surprising greatness of soul; and, if you look
    for his virtues, you will not be able to discover them one by
    one, but you will see that he walks before God with a reverence
    and alacrity which includes them all.”[144]

Hervey became one of the Oxford Methodists in 1733, when he was only
nineteen years of age. In the same year, he wrote as follows to his
sister:—

                           “LINCOLN COLLEGE, OXON, _Sept. 16, 1733_.

    “DEAR SISTER,—Was there any occasion to apologize for the
    serious purport of this, it would be sufficient to direct
    you to the date,[145] and the time of its inditing, but I
    promise myself, that, to you anything of this nature will be
    unnecessary; for, though we are in the very prime and spring
    of our years, strongly disposed to admire, and perfectly
    capacitated to relish the gaieties of youth, yet we have been
    inured to moderate the warmth of our appetites, accustomed to
    anticipate in our minds the days of darkness, and incessantly
    disciplined into a remembrance of our Creator. For my part,
    I find no season so proper to address one of the principal
    sharers of my heart, one of my nearest and dearest relations,
    as that I have at present chose and made use of, when either an
    universal silence composes the soul, and calms every turbulent
    emotion, or the voice of joy and gladness, speaking through
    celestial music, invites to adore the wonders of our Redeemer’s
    love, touches upon the strings of the softest passions, and
    inspires the most sweet, most tender sentiments.

    “As I was the other day traversing the fields in quest of
    health, I observed that they had lost that profusion of
    fragrant odours which once perfumed the air, and were disrobed
    of that rich variety of curious dyes which surpassed even
    Solomon in all his glory. Not a single flower appears to
    gladden the sight, to bespangle the ground, or enamel the
    barren landscape. The clouds, that recently distilled in dews
    of honey, or poured themselves forth in showers of fatness,
    now combine in torrents to overflow the lifeless earth, and to
    bury or sweep away all the faint footsteps of ancient beauty.
    The hills, that were crowned with corn the valleys that laughed
    and sung under loads of golden grain, in a word, the whole
    face of nature, that so lately rejoiced for the abundance
    of her plenty, is become bare, naked, and disconsolate. As
    I was continuing my walk, and musing on this joyless scene,
    methought, the sudden change exhibited a lively picture of
    our frail and transitory state; methought, every object that
    occurred seemed silently to forewarn me of my own future
    condition.

    “I dwelt on these considerations till they fermented in my
    fancy, and worked themselves out in such-like expressions:
    ‘What! must we undergo so grievous an alteration? We, whose
    sprightly blood circulates in brightest tides? We, who are the
    favourites of time, on whom youth, and health, and strength,
    shed their selectest influence? We, who are so apt to look upon
    ourselves as exempt from cares, or pains, or troubles, and
    privileged to drink in the sweets of life without restraint,
    without alloy? Must we forego the sunshine of our enjoyments
    for anything resembling this melancholy gloom? Must the
    sparkling eye set in haggard dimness? the lovely features and
    glowing cheeks be obscured by pale deformity? Must soft and
    gay desires be banished from our breasts, or mirth and jollity
    from our conversation? Must the vigour of our age fall away
    like water that runneth apace, and the blissful minutes of the
    prime of our years vanish like a dream? If this be our case, in
    vain do we boast of our superior felicity. In vain do we glory
    in being the darlings of heaven. The inanimate creation droop
    indeed, sicken and languish, for a time; but quickly revive,
    rejoice, and again shine forth in their brightest lustre. It is
    true, they relinquish, at the approach of winter, their verdant
    honours; but rest fully assured of receiving them with interest
    from the succeeding spring. But man, when he has passed the
    autumn of his maturity,—when he has once resigned himself into
    the cold embraces of age,—bids a long, an eternal adieu to
    all that is entertaining, amiable, or endearing. No pleasing
    expectations refresh his mind; not the least dawnings of hope
    glimmer in to qualify the darksome looking-for of Death.’

    “I had not long indulged these bitter reflections before
    I espied a remedy for those sore evils which occasioned
    them. Though I perceived all our passionate delights to be
    vanity, and the issue of them vexation of spirit; yet I
    saw, likewise, that virtue was substantial, and her fruits
    joy and peace;—that, though all things come to an end, the
    ways of wisdom were exceeding broad. The seeds of piety,
    if implanted in our tender breasts, duly cherished, and
    constantly cultivated, will bud and blossom even in the winter
    of our days; and, when white and red shall be no more,—when
    all the outward embellishments of our little fabric shall
    disappear,—this will still flourish in immortal bloom.

    “To walk humbly with our God, dutifully with our parents,
    and charitably with all, will be an inexhaustible source
    of never-ceasing comforts. What, though we shall sometimes
    be unable to hear the voice of singing men and singing
    women,—though all the senses prove false to their trust, and
    refuse to be any longer inlets of pleasure,—it is now, dear
    sister, it is now in our power to make such happy provisions
    as even then, in those forlorn circumstances, may charm our
    memories with ravishing recollections, and regale all our
    faculties with the continual feast of an applauding conscience.
    What sweet complacency, what unspeakable satisfaction shall
    we reap from the contemplation of an uninterrupted series
    of spotless actions! No present uneasiness will prompt us
    impatiently to wish for our dissolution, nor anxious fears
    for futurity make us immoderately dread the impending stroke.
    All will be calm, easy, and serene. All will be soothed by
    this precious, this invaluable thought, that, by reason of the
    meekness, the innocence, the purity, and other Christian graces
    which adorned the several stages of our progress through the
    world, our names and our ashes will be embalmed; the chambers
    of our tomb consecrated into a paradise of rest; and our souls,
    white as our locks, by an easy transition, become angels of
    light.

    “I am, with love to my brother, dear sister, your most
    affectionate brother,

                                                           “JAMES HERVEY.”

This letter has been inserted without abridgment, 1. Because, it
evinces, that, even while in his teens, Hervey cultivated that flowingly
harmonious style, which was one of the chief characteristics of all his
publications. And, 2. Because, it is thoroughly unevangelical, and, in
spirit, such as might be naturally expected from an Oxford Methodist
seeking salvation by his own good works. 3. It was written at the time
when Hervey first united himself with Wesley and his Pharisaic friends.

There are several other letters, written during the years of Hervey’s
collegiate life; but, for want of space, they can be only sparingly
employed:—

    (To his sister.)

                           “LINCOLN COLLEGE, OXON, _March 28, 1734_.

    “DEAR SISTER,—My fancy has often took its flight to
    Hardingstone, and delighted itself with the imaginary
    conversation of you and my other dear relatives. I have
    frequently recollected, and, as it were, acted over again in my
    mind the many pleasing hours we have spent together in reading
    holy and edifying books, or discoursing on pious and useful
    subjects.

    “There is great reason for congratulation, on account of
    your being so choice a favourite of heaven, as your frequent
    sicknesses, and often infirmities speak you to be. How does the
    goodness of our gracious Father endeavour, by the repeated,
    though lightest, strokes of His rod, to cure whatever is
    disordered, to rectify whatever is amiss in you! Do not then
    hold out against these kind calls to repentance; but suffer
    yourself, by this loving correction, to be made great;—great
    in humility, holiness, and happiness. Humble yourself under
    the mighty hand of God; and, by a hearty sorrow for your past
    faults, and a firm resolution of obedience for the future, let
    this fatherly chastisement bring forth in you the peaceable
    fruits of righteousness.”

All good, so far as it goes, especially from a youth of twenty; but not a
word of Christ, or of being saved by His mediatorial merits, and by the
exercise of faith in Him.

His sister wished him to turn poet; but, instead of writing poetry
himself, he sent her “The Last Day,” by Dr. Young; and wrote as follows:—

                              “LINCOLN COLLEGE, OXON, _May 2, 1734_.

    “DEAR SISTER,—I scarcely know any human composition more
    likely to improve and edify, at the same time that it diverts
    and delights, than this poem of “The Last Day.” If you would
    please yourself, refine your taste, or have the practice of
    religion pleasing, instead of plays, ballads, and other corrupt
    writings, read this almost Divine piece of poetry;—read it
    (as I have done), over and over; think upon it; endeavour to
    digest it thoroughly; and even to get by heart the most moving
    passages: and then, I trust, you will find it answer the ends I
    purpose in sending it.

    “You will excuse me from exercising my poetical talent;
    because, I perceive, such an attempt will be either very
    absurd, or very dangerous. For, should I tack together a few
    doggerel rhymes, this would be an affront to you; whereas,
    should I succeed so well as to gain the applause of my reader,
    this, I am sure, would portend very great harm, if not to you,
    yet, most certainly, to me. For what can portend greater harm
    than the words of praise, which, though smoother than oil, yet,
    are very swords? What can be more destructive of that humble
    mind which was in Christ Jesus,—that meek and lowly spirit
    which is in the sight of God of great price? I am so far from
    carrying on my versifying designs, that, I heartily wish I
    had never conceived any; and that those lines I sent to my
    cousin had either never been made, or that I had never heard
    them commended. Pride and vanity are foolish and unreasonable
    in dust and ashes; and, which is worse, odious and detestable
    before infinite perfection and infinite power.”

The next are extracts from a long letter, of six octavo pages, entirely
on the Christian eucharist, and addressed to Whitefield:—

                                             “OXON, _July 29, 1735_.

    “DEAR SIR,—Is the sacrament indeed administered at one or other
    of your churches every Sunday? Sure then the lot is fallen to
    you in a fair ground; sure you have a goodly heritage. The holy
    eucharist is a communion of the body and blood of Christ;—a
    participation of all the benefits procured for us by His most
    meritorious passion. In this most comfortable sacrament, pardon
    is freely offered to all. Has any one been an enemy to God by
    wicked works? By this body shall he be reconciled. By this
    blood shall his peace be made.

    “Let me put this one question, and I have done. In the last
    great day, on what will you rely for salvation? Will you seek
    to your good thoughts and pious discourses? Alas! they are full
    of imperfection, and cannot bear the severe trial. All your own
    righteousnesses are as filthy rags, and will be utterly unable
    to gain your acceptance. To what then will you have recourse?
    To whom will you fly in this great extremity? Surely, to the
    sufferings of Jesus Christ. There is nothing else under heaven
    whereby you can be saved, but His meritorious passion. Unless
    His body plead in your behalf, you are covered with shame, and
    everlasting confusion. Unless His blood make your peace, you
    are cast, you perish, you are eternally undone. Think, oh, do
    but think deeply on this, and then you will gladly embrace
    every occasion of partaking of the holy communion.

    “By exhibiting such benefits, by urging such motives, may we
    prevail on all our neighbours to secure to themselves a resting
    place for their souls, an anchor of their hopes, sure and
    stedfast.

                          “Yours in the Lord,

                                                “JAMES HERVEY.”[146]

This was a letter widely different from those which Hervey had written to
his sister. In them, he wrote as a man trusting for salvation solely in
his own good works. In this, he propounds the doctrine, that, salvation
is entirely owing to the sacrifice of Christ; and, that its blessings are
obtained (not by the exercise of faith, but,) in the participation of
the Christian sacrament. It need not be added, that, this was one of the
chief doctrines of the Oxford Methodists.

The two Wesleys and Ingham left Oxford in 1735, and the time was now
approaching for Hervey’s departure. Hence, the following letter to his
father:—

                                                   “_April 8, 1736._

    “HONOURED SIR,—You reprove me for my dilatory way of
    proceeding,—very justly I own. I hope, I shall, from this time,
    amend. I was examined yesterday. I must do my juraments five
    times on Friday, and be admitted to my degree on Monday. Mr. H⸺
    tells me, I must wear a bachelor’s gown.

    “Mr. Farrer, a little while ago, asked me to resign my room to
    a pupil of his, who is to come the middle of this month. To
    which proposal, I have agreed, because I can live much cheaper
    out of college. I shall, by this means, save the expense of
    calling up, of bed-making, etc., as well as have a room at a
    cheaper rate, and pay for it only when I am resident: on which
    account, I assure myself, this step, I have taken, will be
    approved of by you and my mother.

    “I am sorry to hear of your being obliged to go on with
    farming. I could wish you would let it, though at some
    disadvantage, and though we should suffer thereby something in
    our fortunes.

    “As to the curacy near Bath, I can give you no determinate
    answer. My friend, I believe, is a very sincere one, and will
    do me what service he can. There is one person who has had the
    offer of it before me: whether he will accept of it is not
    known. As soon as _I_ know, _you_ shall know.

    “I hope you will send me a letter next week, to wish me joy on
    being a graduate.

                                                     “JAMES HERVEY.”

Though not ordained, when Hervey left Oxford, in June, 1736, and returned
to his father’s house at Hardingstone, he, at once, commenced holding
meetings among his neighbours. The following letter, addressed to Mr.
Chapman, one of the Oxford Methodists, refers to this, and contains
Hervey’s views on what ought to be Chapman’s behaviour among the polite
inhabitants of Bath, whither he was going:—

                                     “HARDINGSTONE, _June 12, 1736_.

    “I humbly thank you for sending me the Journal,” (probably
    Wesley’s, who was now in Georgia.) “Blessed be God, for His
    unspeakable love to the poor Indians, and for His watchful
    care of our dear friends! With what zeal and ardour do those
    glorious combatants run the race that is set before them. May
    we, dear Mr. Chapman, may we go and do likewise! go and improve
    our little stock of knowledge and holiness, by imparting them
    to as many as want and are willing to receive!

    “I hope my evening assemblies are, and will be, prospered.
    I heartily thank you for advising me to resume those means
    of instructing my neighbours. I have had some comforting
    assurances that the sanctifying Spirit has been among us, and
    blessed my discourses to the edifying of the hearers. I have
    some from two parishes besides this, that attend upon my little
    catechetical lectures, and am likely to have a young gentleman
    from the academy at Northampton.

    “If you are going to Bath, how must you behave yourself in
    such a situation? I wish I could advise you aright; but, I
    fear, I am one of those whom the apostle styles μυωπα ζοντες.
    Nevertheless, my opinion, such as it is, I will freely give you.

    “I think then, sir, great regard is to be had to the genius
    and temper of the city. Since that is light and gay, I would
    accommodate myself to it as much as possible, so it be
    consistently with innocence. I would, at all times, endeavour
    to be perfectly cheerful and obliging and complaisant, to the
    utmost of my power. I would be earnest with God to make my
    countenance shine with a smiling serenity; that there might
    sit something on my cheeks, which would declare the peace and
    joy of my heart. The world has strange apprehensions of the
    Methodists. They imagine them to be so many walking mopes,
    more like the ghost in a play, than sociable creatures. To
    obviate this sad prejudice, be always sprightly and agreeable.
    If a pretty turn of wit, or a diverting story offer itself to
    your mind, do not scruple to entertain the company therewith.
    Everything that borders upon sourness, moroseness, or
    ill-breeding, I would cautiously avoid. And everything that may
    give a beautiful or amiable idea of holiness, I would study
    to show forth. I see no manner of harm in bowing at church,
    provided it be not in divine service, so as to interrupt our
    devotions. I think Mr. Wilson disapproved of this; but I cannot
    bring myself to believe, that, a modest and decent respect to
    our neighbours is disparaging to God, but rather acceptable to
    Him. I do not mean, by what I have said, that you should make
    all sorts of compliances. A solicitation to join with your
    acquaintance in billiards, dice, cards, dancing, etc., should
    be rejected.

    “If Mr. Morgan is at Bath, pray present my thanks and love
    to him. God Almighty make him and you bold as lions, wise as
    serpents, and harmless as doves! If I had not heard you were at
    Oxon, this had been sent by the post to Bath.

                                                     “JAMES HERVEY.”

Hervey was a churchman; but he was not a bigot. At this period of
his history, one of the students in Doctor Doddridge’s Academy, at
Northampton, was the celebrated Rev. Risdon Darracott, then a youth,
nineteen years of age. Hervey and young Darracott had had an interview
in the house of a member of Dr. Doddridge’s church. Darracott was
endeavouring to form a religious society among Doddridge’s students,
somewhat similar to the society of Methodists at Oxford; and the
interview, just mentioned, led him to write to Hervey for advice. The
latter had recently left Oxford, and the following is an extract from his
answer:—

    “HARDINGSTONE, _June 3, 1736_.

    “DEAR SIR,—I think your proposal, as far as I can see into
    it, is very proper; and if discreetly managed, and steadily
    persisted in, cannot fail to be advantageous to yourself and
    others. This seems to be evident for several reasons; four of
    which at present occur to my mind.

    “1. Because we are ignorant and short-sighted, and oftentimes
    unable to discern the things that are excellent. But God is
    pleased to reveal to one what is concealed from another; so
    that, in a multitude of counsellors, there is wisdom.

    “2. Because we are lovers and admirers of ourselves, unwilling
    to see our own errors, and, therefore, unlikely to amend them.
    Whereas, our friends will, with a meek and impartial spirit,
    show us our faults.

    “3. Because we are weak and irresolute; easily shaken from the
    most laudable purposes, and apt to let go our integrity upon
    any opposition. But a band of friends, who are like minded,
    inspires us with courage and constancy.

    “4. Because we are slothful and lukewarm in religious duties.
    But a holy fellowship will kindle and keep alive a holy
    fervour. How often have I gone into the company of my dear
    friends, listless and spiritless; yet, when I came home, I
    have found myself quite another person; vigorous and active,
    sanguine and zealously affected in good matters.”[147]

Hervey, as an Oxford Methodist, was doubtless speaking from experience;
and his reasons for religious fellowship are well worth weighing.

A few weeks after the date of the above, Hervey proceeded to Oxford to
be ordained; and, whilst there, wrote again, to this young Dissenter, as
follows:—

                            “LINCOLN COLLEGE, OXON, _Sept. 1, 1736_.

    “DEAR MR. DARRACOTT,—I wish you would suggest to me what I must
    do to further the Gospel of God my Saviour. I employ, every
    day, an hour or more with some well-inclined people of the
    poorer sort. We read Mr. Henry on the Holy Scriptures, and pray
    together. There is one set in one part of the city, and another
    in another. I meet them at a neighbour’s house. Oh! that I
    could also open my mouth as he did; so boldly, so powerfully!

    “I am preparing to enter into holy orders, and to take upon me
    the work of the ministry. That great, wonderful, and important
    work! Help me with your prayers to the Lord God my Saviour,
    that I ‘may receive the Holy Ghost not many days hence,’
    by the laying on of hands; even ‘the spirit of wisdom and
    understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of
    knowledge and of the fear of the Lord.’

    “Dear sir, pray give my humble service, and best thanks to Dr.
    Doddridge, and beg of him, when he is in the acceptable time,
    to remember me, who am in the time of need. If he has any word
    of exhortation; but, especially, if he has any treasures of
    instruction, proper for a candidate of the ministerial office,
    how glad should I be if he would please to impart them, and how
    gratefully should such a favour be always acknowledged by his
    and your affectionate servant and brother in Jesus Christ,

                                                   “J. HERVEY.”[148]

Another letter, written previous to his ordination, shall be given, at
full length. Wesley was now in Georgia; and Hervey addressed to him the
following:—

                                             “OXON, _Sept. 2, 1736_.

    “REV. AND DEAR SIR,—I have read your Journal, and find that
    the Lord hath done great things for you already, whereof we
    rejoice. Surely, He will continue His loving-kindness to you,
    and show you greater things than these. Methinks, when you and
    dear Mr. Ingham go forth upon the great and good enterprise of
    converting the Indians, you will, in some respects, resemble
    Noah and his little household going forth of the ark. Wherever
    you go, you must walk among dry bones or carcasses, among
    a people that are aliens from the life of God, buried in
    ignorance, dead in trespasses and sins. Oh, may the blessing of
    that illustrious progenitor of ours, and of that favourite with
    the Most High, be upon your heads! May you be ‘fruitful and
    multiply,’ may you bring forth abundantly in that barren land
    and multiply therein!

    “As for me, I am still a most weak, corrupt creature. But
    blessed be the unmerited mercy of God, and thanks be to your
    never to be forgotten example, that I am what I am. As to my
    strength, and activity with regard to others, I fear it may
    be too truly said, ‘It is to sit still.’ I am at present one
    of the multitude; but I expect, before this reaches you, to
    receive the office of a Deacon, and become a minister of the
    New Testament. Oh, may I also ‘receive the Holy Ghost not many
    days hence;’ and be made a faithful minister of those saving
    mysteries, from that time forth and for ever! I hope, I shall
    then hear a voice behind me, saying, ‘Awake thou that sleepest,
    from thy slumber, and Christ shall give thee light.’ Christ
    shall be thy sanctification, Christ shall be thy illumination.
    He shall stand by thee, and strengthen thee. He shall give thee
    both to will and to do. Through the power of His grace, thou
    shalt run and not faint; thou shalt be fervent in the business
    and propagation of righteousness, nor ever give over, till thou
    givest up thy soul to God, its Maker, and thy body return unto
    the dust, as it was.

    “That I may be obedient to such a heavenly call, is, I hope,
    ‘all my wish and all my desire.’ This is, indeed, the treasure
    I value, the thing that I long for. Do you, dear sir, put up
    your incessant prayers; and, oh, let the mighty God set to His
    seal, that the thing may be established, that it may be unto me
    according to my heart’s desire! Then, will I invite you (my
    _father_, shall I call you, or my _friend_? For, indeed, you
    have been both unto me), to meet me among the spirits of just
    men made perfect; since I am not like to see your face in the
    flesh any more for ever! Then, will I bid you welcome, yea, I
    will tell of your love, before the universal assembly, and at
    the tremendous tribunal. I will hear with joy the Man Christ
    Jesus say of you, ‘Oh, ye that are greatly beloved. Well done,
    good and faithful servants; ye have served your Lord and your
    generation with your might; ye have finished the work, which
    the eternal foreknowledge of my Father gave you to do. If
    others have turned their thousands, ye have turned your tens of
    thousands from the power of Satan unto God. Receive, therefore,
    a glorious kingdom,—a beautiful and immortal crown from my
    hand. Enter, with the children I have given you,—with the souls
    that you have won. Oh ye blessed ones, ye heirs of glory, enter
    in at those everlasting doors, and receive there the reward of
    your labours, even the fulness of joy for ever and ever.’

    “I am, and may I always be, dear sir, your son in the Lord
    Jesus Christ,

                                                         “J. HERVEY.

    “P. S. I heartily thank you, as for all other favours, so
    especially for teaching me Hebrew.[149] I have cultivated
    (according to your advice) this study, and am, blessed be God,
    the giver of knowledge! somewhat improved in this language. My
    prayers accompany you, and all that are engaged with you in the
    same glorious design. Let me also have yours and theirs for
    Jerusalem’s, for Christ’s sake.”[150]

Seventeen days, after the date of the above letter, Hervey was ordained a
deacon at Christ Church, by Dr. Potter, Bishop of Oxford.[151]

One of the Oxford Methodists was Charles Kinchin, Fellow of Corpus
Christi College.[152] On leaving Oxford, he was presented with the
rectory of Dummer, near Basingstoke; and now, in 1736, Hervey became
his curate. This is not the place to describe his curacy; but further
extracts from his letters, during the time he held it, will serve to
illustrate his character.

His brother, being desirous to be apprenticed in London, received from
him the following:—

                                           “DUMMER, _June 27, 1737_.

    “DEAR BROTHER,—I find you are at London looking out for a
    trade, and a master to set yourself to. I hope, you pray
    earnestly to God to guide you in your choice. Desire also your
    honoured mother, and mine, to have a great regard to your soul.
    Let it be inquired, not only whether such a tradesman be a
    man of substance and credit, but also, whether he be a man of
    religion and godliness? Whether he be a lover of good people, a
    careful frequenter of the Church? Whether his children be well
    nurtured and educated in the fear of the Lord? Whether family
    prayer be daily offered up in his house? Whether he believes
    that the souls of his servants are committed to his trust,
    and that he will be answerable for the neglect of them at the
    judgment-seat? It will be sadly hazardous to venture yourself
    under the roof of any person, who is not furnished with these
    principles, or is a stranger to these practices. But, if he be
    contrary to all these, a despiser of God and goodness, wholly
    devoted to carnal pleasure and worldly gain; if he not only
    omit the religious care and oversight of his household, but
    also set them a wicked and corrupt example, let nothing induce
    you to enter into his service.”

At the time when this letter was addressed to his brother, he received a
sort of petition, signed by the inhabitants of Collingtree, one of his
father’s parishes, praying him to become their minister. In his long
reply, dated June 29, 1737, he did not absolutely refuse to accede to
their request; but sketched what a minister of Christ ought to be, and
exhorted them to ask the great Head of the Church, to supply them with
such an one. The letter is too long for insertion here; but, it shows,
that, this young man of twenty-three had correct and exalted notions of
ministerial duty. The standard of excellence was high, and but seldom
reached; but it was not higher than it ought to be.

Meanwhile, the services of Hervey were not confined to Dummer. Even the
_Oxford_ Methodists, to some extent, were itinerant ministers, and, by
interchange, occupied each other’s pulpits. Hence the following:—

                                        “DUMMER, _October 26, 1737_.

    “DEAR MR. ⸺,—I received your last at Oxford. After that, I
    removed to Stanton-Harcourt; and now am replaced at Dummer.
    These frequent removals and changes of situation, I hope, will
    be some small excuse for my dilatoriness in writing; for, you
    know, they occasion trouble and take up time.

    “Mr. Broughton, Mr. Gambold, and Mr. Kinchin, have been
    exercising their ministry here. O may I not pull down, by my
    indiscretion or inactivity, what they have begun to build!

    “As to the making of sermons, I am deterred from writing
    them, not because I look upon it as a useless employment;
    but because I feel, and cannot help confessing, my absolute
    inequality to a task so important. I entreat your intense and
    persevering prayers on my behalf, that the great and good God,
    the dispenser of all wisdom, would vouchsafe to be a light
    to my darkness, and strength to my weakness. Should these
    supplications be graciously answered, my heart will then teem
    both with abundance of matter, and propriety of expression; my
    pen too will be that of a ready writer.

    “I am, dear sir, your obliged and affectionate, but unworthy
    friend,

                                                   “J. HERVEY.”[153]

In the early part of the year 1738, Hervey suffered from enfeebled
health; and accepted the invitation of Paul Orchard, Esq., who resided at
Stoke Abbey,[154] a beautifully situated old mansion in Devonshire.

Taking Bristol on his way, he wrote as follows to Mr. Orchard:—

                                       “BRISTOL, _February 3, 1738_.

    “WORTHY SIR,—I have been at Bristol little less than a
    fortnight, waiting of an opportunity of coming to Cornwall by
    water; but, the wind still continuing contrary, I intend, this
    day, to set out for Exeter, on horseback. I hope, by three or
    four easy stages, to reach it on Monday or Tuesday next. Here I
    propose to rest, till I have the satisfaction of hearing from
    my much-esteemed, though unknown patron. I expect, sir, to be
    sorely fatigued, not being accustomed to travelling; and, if
    you please to permit your man and horse (for I dare not presume
    to ask for your chariot) to give me the meeting at Exeter, by
    the time he arrives, I hope to have worn off my weariness. I
    beg my humblest service may be accepted by your lady, and am,
    good sir, your obliged humble servant,

                                                     “JAMES HERVEY.”

The foregoing, to Mr. Orchard, was written three days after Whitefield
embarked for Georgia, and Wesley returned to England. No sooner did
Hervey hear of his friend Wesley’s safe arrival, than he wrote him the
following loving and interesting letter:—

                                     “STOKE ABBEY, _March 21, 1738_.

    “REV. AND HONOURED SIR,—How agreeably surprising was the news,
    which a letter of Mr. Chapman’s lately brought me. I am at a
    loss to say, whether it was more unexpected or more grateful.
    It assured me that Mr. Wesley was arrived in England; had
    visited Oxon; and was coming to Bath: and shall I not hasten a
    congratulatory address, to welcome the friend of my studies,
    the friend of my soul, the friend of all my valuable and
    eternal interests? To do it cannot be deemed impertinency;
    but not to do it would justly bring upon me the imputation of
    ingratitude.

    “I hope, sir, your health is not impaired by your travels. I
    dare say, your experience is increased, and your knowledge
    enlarged; your faith strengthened, and your zeal quickened.
    I do not doubt but the God whom you serve, has shown you
    wonderful things in His righteousness; His Almighty wisdom
    and goodness have dealt graciously with you, and wrought
    marvellously by you. O! how greatly pleasing, and, perhaps, not
    unprofitable would a relation of them be.

    “I believe you had the pleasure of finding some of the Oxonians
    grown considerably in grace. They have made haste, since
    your departure, to improve their talents; and to edify their
    neighbours, as though they were earnestly and resolvedly
    desirous to enjoy their company in a better world.

    “You cannot but have heard, and, hearing, you cannot but
    rejoice at, the successful zeal of our friend Whitefield. All
    London, and the whole nation ring of μεγαλια του Θεου done by
    his ministry. But, alas! it will damp your rising satisfaction
    to receive an account of useless, worthless Hervey’s having run
    a round of sin and vanity; and, at length, weary and giddy,
    being almost ready to drop into hell. Oh! it is not fit to be
    mentioned; worthy of nothing but oblivion. Spare the narrative,
    and cure the wretch. Send a line, and accompany it with a
    prayer, to warm my frozen and benumbed soul; that, if there be
    any seeds of goodness latent, any sparks of piety dormant in my
    breast, they may break forth to life, and kindle into a flame.

    “I am retired from the scene of action into a worthy and
    wealthy gentleman’s family. Mr. Chapman will inform you, how
    much he deserves your prayers, and the prayers of all who are
    mighty with God and prevail.

    “Dear sir, if other business,—if other charitable employments
    will allow you leisure, pray favour me with a letter. To none
    will it be more acceptable; by none is it more needed, than by
    your most obliged humble servant,

                                                     “JAMES HERVEY.”

Hervey’s health did not improve at the beautiful residence of his friend,
Orchard. Hence, four months after his settlement at Stoke Abbey, he wrote
to his sister as follows:—

    “1738. June 19. My disorder is a languor and faintness, a
    feebleness and inability for action, which is increased or
    lessened according to the various temperature of the weather.
    I bless God Almighty! I am not deprived of my appetite for
    food, neither are my bones chastened with pain; so that, many
    impute all my complaints to a hippish and over-timorous turn of
    mind,—to a distempered imagination, rather than a disordered
    body.

    “I have been about twenty or twenty-six miles into Cornwall,
    and seen wondrous workmanship of the all-creating God. At
    Bideford, about fourteen miles off, I am pretty well known,
    and am a little esteemed. It is strange to tell, but let it be
    to the glory of God’s free and undeserved goodness, though I
    am worthy of shame and universal contempt, that, I find favour
    almost wherever I go.”

For upwards of two years, Hervey was the cherished guest of Mr. Orchard
and his family. David and Jonathan were not warmer or more faithful
friends than these. Hence the following remarkable agreement:—

    “We, the underwritten, whom God’s providence has wonderfully
    brought acquainted with each other, for purposes, no doubt, of
    piety and everlasting salvation, sensible how blind and corrupt
    our nature is, how forward to fall into errors and iniquities,
    but how backward to discern or amend them;—knowing also the
    great advantage of kind and affectionate, but, at the same
    time, sincere and impartial reproof and admonition;—do oblige
    ourselves to watch over each other’s conduct, conversation, and
    tempers; and, whenever we perceive anything amiss therein,—any
    duty ill done, or not done so well as it ought,—anything
    omitted which might be for our spiritual good, or practised
    which will tend to our spiritual hurt,—in fine, any thing
    practised or neglected, which we shall wish to have been
    otherwise in a dying hour:—All this we will watch to observe,
    never fail to reprove, and earnestly endeavour to correct in
    each other, that so, we may have nothing to upbraid one another
    with when we meet in the eternal state. We resolve to do all
    this with the utmost plainness, and all honest freedom; and,
    provided it be done with tenderness, with apparent good-will,
    and in private, we will esteem it as the greatest kindness we
    can show,—the truest interest of sincere friendship that we
    can exercise, and the only way of answering the gracious ends
    of Almighty wisdom in bringing us together. In witness and
    confirmation of which resolution, we here subscribe our names.

                                                     “PAUL ORCHARD,
                                                     ”JAMES HERVEY.”

                                              “_November 28, 1738._”

While Hervey was thus resting, and recruiting his health, in Devonshire,
Wesley and his brother Charles became acquainted with Peter Böhler, found
peace with God, associated with the Moravians, and began to preach the
doctrine of salvation by faith only, with a fervour and earnestness,
which excited almost national attention, and brought upon them, in varied
forms, the malice of their enemies. Hervey, in his beautiful retirement,
heard of this, and wrote to Wesley as follows[155]:—

                                   “STOKE ABBEY, _December 1, 1738_.

    “MOST DEAR AND REVEREND SIR,—Whom I love and honour in the
    Lord: indeed, it is not through any forgetfulness of your
    favours, or unconcernedness for your welfare, that, you have
    not heard from me, but through the miscarriage of my letter.
    Immediately on the news of your first arrival in England, I
    made haste to salute you, and wondered why your answer was so
    long in coming; but wondered more when I heard you had left the
    nation a second time,[156] without being so condescending as to
    own me, or so kind as to vouchsafe me a single line. But, now,
    sir, that, I am assured under your own hand, that, you have
    escaped the perils of the sea, the perils of foreign countries,
    the perils of those that oppose the truth; and, that, you,
    restored in safety to your native country, are resettled at
    Oxon, and both have been doing, and still are doing spiritual
    and everlasting good to men,—I may truly say ‘my heart
    rejoiceth, even mine.’

    “O that I could give you a comfortable account of myself,
    and of my zeal for God! Alas! I must confess, with shame and
    sorrow, ‘my zeal has been to sit still.’ I am not strong in
    body, and am lamentably weak in spirit. Sometimes, my bodily
    disorders clog the willing mind, and are a grievous weight upon
    its wheels. At other times, the mind is oppressed with sloth,
    and thereby rendered listless and indisposed for labouring in
    the Lord. Pray for me, dearest sir, and engage all my friends
    to cry mightily to Heaven in my behalf, if so be, this dry rod
    may bud and blossom; this barren tree may bring forth much
    fruit.

    “I live in the family of a worthy gentleman, who is a hearty
    well-wisher to the cause of pure and undefiled religion; who
    desires no greater happiness than to love the Lord Jesus Christ
    in sincerity; and who would be glad of a place for himself and
    household in your prayers.

    “Dear sir, will you permit me to inform you what is said,
    though I verily believe slanderously said, of you? It is
    reported, that, the dearest friends I have in the world are
    setters forth of strange doctrines, that are contrary to
    Scripture, and repugnant to the Articles of our Church. This
    cannot but give me uneasiness; and I should be glad to have
    my fears removed by yourself. It is said, that, you inculcate
    faith, without laying stress upon good works; and, that, you
    endeavour to dissuade honest tradesmen from following their
    occupations, and persuade them to turn preachers. Now, these
    calumnies I wish you would give me power to confute, who am,

           “Dear sir, your ever obliged and grateful friend,

                                                        “J. HERVEY.”

The first of these rumours was a calumny; for, while Wesley inculcated
faith, he also strenuously enforced good works. The second was not
without foundation; for Wesley himself writes:—

    “Joseph Humphrey was the first lay preacher that assisted me in
    England, in the year 1738.”[157]

The two Wesleys and Whitefield, full of the love of God, and with faces
beaming with peace and joy through believing in Christ Jesus, were now
about the most abused men in England. All the churches were closed
against them; and fields, streets, and village greens were their chief
preaching places. The mob treated them with violence. The clergy used the
pulpit in denouncing them. The press was employed in spreading scandalous
reports concerning them. Some of their old friends were puzzled, and
began to stand aloof from them. But, in the midst of all, they themselves
were happy; and were honoured, almost every day, in being made the
instruments of turning men from sin to holiness, and from the power of
Satan unto God.

Hervey’s health was such, that, even had he wished, he was utterly unable
to join his friends in this their bold and marvellously successful
out-door mission to the unconverted masses. While they were preaching to
assembled thousands on Hannam Mount, Kennington Common, and Blackheath,
he was being nursed, with the greatest tenderness, amid the comforts and
beauties of Stoke Abbey; and was preaching, as opportunity permitted,
and as his strength allowed, in some of the neighbouring churches, and
especially in Mr. Thompson’s, of St. Gennys, Cornwall. Though absent,
however, he was not forgotten. Whitefield, full of faith and of the Holy
Ghost, wrote to him, inquiring whether he had found the same blessings,
which he and the Wesleys had. Hervey’s answer was so beautifully
ingenuous; and, moreover, is so important as bearing upon the subject of
his conversion, that, it is given here without curtailment.

                                      “STOKE ABBEY, _April 4, 1739_.

    “DEAR MR. WHITEFIELD,—Your kind favour, dated March 6, I
    received not till yesterday, not returning sooner from worthy
    Mr. Thompson’s charge. O that he may not find his dear flock
    gone back; but adorned in Christian knowledge, during his
    absence from them!

    “I thank you for the good news you sent me. Christ enable me to
    praise, rejoice, and give thanks on this behalf!

    “I am obliged for the searching questions you put to me. Before
    I answer them, give me leave to exhort you in the words of the
    Psalmist, ‘Try me, my dear and faithful friend, try me, and
    seek the ground of my heart, and examine my thoughts; look well
    if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way
    everlasting.’

    “First question, Does the Spirit of God witness with your
    spirit that you are a child of God? In truth, I cannot tell.
    I have sometimes a comforting hope, that I am a child, and
    not an outcast; a true son, and no bastard; but whether this
    persuasion cometh of Him that has called men to salvation,
    I know not. Whether it be the testimony of the Holy Spirit
    witnessing within me, or the whisper of a vain presumption
    speaking peace where there is no peace, I am at a loss to
    determine. Tell me, dear sir, by what touchstone I shall
    distinguish them.

    “Second question, Have you peace and joy in the Holy Ghost?
    I sometimes do rejoice, and not in carnal satisfactions, but
    in hope of the glory which shall be revealed. But the bright
    prospect is quickly intercepted; dark clouds of fear intervene;
    and sad misgivings of mind throw a damp upon the rising joy.
    Sometimes I am blessed with inward peace, and possess my soul
    in tranquility; but this also is like our April sun,—very
    changeable and short-lived. The sweet calm is broken, and
    ruffling gusts of peevishness and uneasiness discompose the
    tenour of my mind. I must confess, that, I feel touches of envy
    (oh that I could mingle my tears with my ink, as I write!),
    motions of pride, hankering after unnecessary sensual delights;
    that, I too frequently am destitute of love to my brethren,
    of a compassionate long-suffering zeal for their welfare, and
    cannot perceive one spark of devotion kindled in my cold heart.
    For these things, my soul is, at some intervals, disquieted
    within me. Such sad experiences turn my peace into pain; they
    destroy my gladness, and fill me with grief.

    “Third question, Are we justified by faith only? I answer,
    By faith only. Works can have no share in our justification,
    because there is iniquity in our holy things. They are done
    after an imperfect manner, or from improper views, or sullied
    with some secret self-glorying; and, therefore, cannot
    recommend _themselves_, much less the _sinful doers_ of them,
    to infinite purity. Nay, if God should enter into strict
    and rigorous judgment, I fear our best works would deserve
    punishment. And to think, that, those performances, which
    deserve punishment, can merit, either in whole or in part,
    in any measure or degree, an eternal reward, is surely to
    misjudge the case. It seems to be as false as to fancy, that,
    the addition of some dross would enhance the value, or increase
    the lustre, of refined gold. Yet still I believe, that, these
    works, poor and mean and imperfect as they are, are absolutely
    necessary, and that there is no justification without them. A
    tenant upon lease must duly and punctually pay his pepper-corn,
    though it be not considered, by the payer or receiver, as of
    any worth at all. So, a Christian must exercise himself in all
    good works, if he would obtain salvation, though that can add
    no worth to the perfect, sufficient, and alone meritorious
    sacrifice of Jesus Christ. We must be as careful to maintain
    good works, as if our salvation was the purchase of them alone,
    and yet renounce them utterly, and rely upon the merits,
    death, and intercession of our blessed Saviour, who is made
    unto them that believe, not only wisdom, but righteousness,
    sanctification, and redemption.

    “If I am wrong, be pleased to inform me; and God Almighty give
    me a child-like, unprejudiced, teachable spirit! Pray for me,
    dear sir, that, my sins, which blind my understanding, may be
    subdued; and that; together with a right spirit, I may have a
    right judgment in all things. That text, James ii. 24, I dare
    not blot out of my Bible, and I cannot put out of my mind.
    Indeed, it perplexes me. It makes me unsettled and wavering.
    When I think of it, I am ready (ready! nay, ought I not to be
    resolved, since the Apostle has put the words into my mouth?)
    to alter my reply, and say, not by faith _only_, but by works
    (in conjunction with it) a man is justified. Give me leave,
    henceforward, to become your pupil in this important doctrine
    of Christianity, as I have long been, and ever shall be,

                    “Your most affectionate friend,

                                                   “J. HERVEY.”[158]

The friendship of these Oxford Methodists was most sincere and cordial;
but was not unruffled. All was not plain sailing. Breakers were a-head.
It is a well-known fact, that, early in the year 1739, Whitefield
and Wesley, being shut out of the pulpits of the Established Church,
commenced their marvellous career of out-door preaching. Astonishing
effects followed. All sorts of rumours were current. Enemies were active,
and, as already stated, even friends were staggered. In his Devonshire
retreat, Hervey was excited, and wrote to the Rev. Mr. Kinchin, of
Dummer, an immensely long letter from which the following is an extract:—

                                     “STOKE ABBEY, _April 18, 1739_.

    “DEAR MR. KINCHIN,—This day, a letter informs me, that, my
    worthy and ever-esteemed Rector has hearkened to men of
    unsound opinions, and is turning aside to their errors;—that,
    he is inclined to throw off his gown, renounce the Church of
    England, relinquish his Fellowship and living, and become
    itinerant preacher. And can I see a friend, who has been kind
    to me as a father, is dear to me as a brother,—can I see such a
    friend run away with such erroneous and pernicious notions, and
    sit silent and unconcerned? No; my affections constrain me; and
    I cannot hold my peace. I love him, and, therefore, must speak.
    I love him tenderly, and, therefore, must speak freely.”

Here follow twelve printed octavo pages of remonstrance. Hervey then
adds:—

    “There is no man living that I more sincerely love and honour
    than Mr. Wesley. His memory is most dear and deservedly
    precious to me; but, yet, I must frankly own, he is liable
    to mistakes,—mistakes in religion, and dangerous ones too. I
    remember the time when he was fond of the mystic writers; read
    one of their leading authors over and over again; and commended
    what he read as the best book, next to those that were given
    by inspiration. But, within the space of a few months, he saw
    his error; retracted his opinions; and inveighed against them
    as studiously as he ever extolled them. This I mention only to
    show, that, the best designing men,—men of eminent learning
    and exemplary devotions,—may be led into false apprehensions
    of things. He has arguments, I do not doubt, to support his
    tenets, as he had in the former case, and can manage them with
    a masterly skill; but, yet, he may be deceived, though he
    means only the glory of Christ. Therefore, dear sir, withhold
    your assent a little, and do not too easily fall in with his
    principles. At least, suspend your determination for awhile;
    wait the event; and let that speak for the attempt.

    “You see how moderate I am in the matter. I do not exclaim
    against the gentlemen who have brought these new doctrines to
    our ears. If truth and purer Christianity be on their side,
    God forbid, but that I myself and every true-hearted disciple
    should go over to their party! Only have a little patience;
    tarry thou the issue of things; and let _excitus acta probet_.

    “I wonder why they dissuade you from cleaving to the
    Establishment. Why do they find fault with our excellent
    Church? And why should they entice you from your parish? Sure
    we are, that, the Holy Ghost made you overseer over that
    little flock; but, that, He has released you from the charge
    and called you to another sphere of labour, is not so evident.
    There was a time when Mr. Wesley was a warm and able advocate
    of the primitive institutions. I marvel, that, he is so soon
    removed to another opinion. This is a fresh conviction how
    variable his mind is, and, though burning with zeal for God,
    yet, given to change. And, having altered so often already, why
    may he not alter again, and new-mould his present sentiments as
    well as his former?

    “They advise you to become an itinerant preacher. But why? I
    would gladly know. Is greater perfection to be attained by
    wandering into the wide world, and preaching in variety of
    places? Or will this way of preaching be more successful and
    efficacious? I cannot bring myself to believe this.

                              “Etc., etc.,

                                                     “JAMES HERVEY.”

To some extent, Hervey was evidently misinformed. It is possible, it
is not unlikely, that, Wesley and Whitefield had advised their brother
Methodist, Mr. Kinchin, to become an itinerant preacher; but there is
no evidence, that, they ever wished either him or any of their friends
to leave the Established Church, or, that, they ever entertained the
idea of leaving the Church themselves. Still, there can be no doubt,
that Hervey had heard such reports as these, and was intensely anxious
on this account. Hervey refers to the diffusion of “erroneous and
pernicious notions.” These were, probably, not so much the doctrines of
justification by faith, the witness of the Spirit, and cognate truths, as
the things mentioned in the following letter, addressed to Whitefield,
three weeks after the foregoing letter was sent to Mr. Kinchin:—

                                       “STOKE ABBEY, _May 10, 1739_.

    “DEAR MR. WHITEFIELD,—I sincerely thank you for your last
    letter. I can hardly bring myself to assent to your whole
    account of justification by faith. This, perhaps, may proceed
    from some obstinate prejudices, rather than from reasonable and
    weighty scruple. However, I waive the mention of my objections,
    and make the care of my own right faith give place to a concern
    for the principles and practices of my dear friends.

    “It is reported, and creditably reported, from Oxon, that,
    several strange notions have been lately broached there, and
    have gained proselytes and espousers among the most hopeful
    and promising part of the University. They, who bravely stood
    their ground against sin, are become an unhappy prey to error
    and delusion. I hope you are not fallen from your once avowed
    steadfastness to the truth as it is in Jesus, and as it is
    in our excellent Church. It is whispered, indeed, that, the
    seducers are practising their arts upon you, and trying to
    subvert my dear Mr. Whitefield’s orthodoxy.

    “In a late letter, I gave an answer to some queries you were
    pleased to put to me. Now, I beg the favour of your opinions
    concerning the following doctrines: ‘That, the Distinction,
    Order, Degrees, even Robes and Habits of the University are
    all Anti-Christian; that, nothing is taught in it, but that
    learning and wisdom, which opposes the power of God; that,
    whoso is born of God is also taught of God, not in any limited
    sense, but, so as to make the use of natural means of no
    effect; that, all human learning (however said to be sanctified
    of God) entirely disqualifies us for preaching the true Gospel
    of Jesus Christ; that, an Established ministry is a mere
    invention of men; that, our whole Church and all its authority,
    are founded on, and supported by a lie; and, that, all who
    receive power of preaching from it, are in a state of slavery,
    and must throw off all obedience to it, before they can enjoy
    the freedom of the Gospel.

    “These tenets, extravagant and pernicious as they are, have
    been, I find, studiously advanced; but let them not have the
    sanction of your approbation. If they will get abroad into the
    world, let them go branded with your dislike and censure.

                                                     “JAMES HERVEY.”

Remembering the rumours of the day, such a letter as the above is not
surprising. Falsehoods concerning Wesley and his friends were rife. No
report was too extravagant to be believed. Unfortunately, Whitefield’s
answer to Hervey is not forthcoming; but the invalided recluse was soon
led into the way of truth. Hence, the following, also addressed to
Whitefield, pointing out the means by which Hervey had been induced to
renounce his Oxford Pharisaism, and to embrace the doctrine of salvation
by faith in Christ only. The letter is too valuable to be abridged:—

    “Yes, dear sir, with pleasure, I send another letter. I rejoice
    to find, that, you remember me. I am thankful, that, you
    have not renounced a correspondent, made odious by so much
    ingratitude.

    “You are pleased to ask, How the Holy Ghost convinced me of
    self-righteousness, and drove me out of my false rests? Indeed,
    sir, I cannot precisely tell. The light was not instantaneous,
    but gradual. It did not flash upon my soul, but arose like the
    dawning day. A little book, wrote by _Jenks_, upon Submission
    to the Righteousness of God, was made serviceable to me. Your
    Journals, dear sir, and Sermons, especially that sweet Sermon
    upon ‘What think ye of Christ?’ were a means of bringing me to
    a knowledge of the truth. And another excellent piece has been,
    and I hope will be, as so much precious eye-salve to my dim and
    clouded understanding,—I mean ‘_Marshall’s_ Gospel Mystery of
    Sanctification.’

    “These,—blessed be He, who is a light to them that sit in
    darkness!—have, in some degree, convinced me of my former
    errors. I now begin to see, that, I have been labouring in
    the fire, and wearying myself for very vanity, while I have
    attempted to establish my own righteousness. I trusted I knew
    not what, while I trusted in some imaginary good deeds of
    my own. These are no hiding-place from the storm. They are
    a refuge of lies. If I had the meekness of Moses, and the
    patience of Job, the zeal of Paul, and the love of John, I
    durst not advance the least plea to everlasting life on this
    footing. But as for my own beggarly performances,—wretched
    righteousness,—gracious, adorable Emmanuel!—I am ashamed; I
    am grieved, that I should thrust them into the place of Thy
    Divine, Thy inconceivable precious obedience!

    “My schemes are altered. I now desire to work in my blessed
    Master’s service, not _for_, but, _from_ salvation. I believe,
    that, Jesus Christ, the Incarnate God, is my Saviour; that, He
    has done all which I was bound to perform; and suffered all
    that I was condemned to sustain; and, so, has procured a full,
    final, and everlasting salvation for a poor damnable sinner. I
    would now fain _serve_ Him who has _saved_ me. I would glorify
    Him before _men_, who has justified me before _God_. I would
    study to please Him in holiness and righteousness all the days
    of my life. I seek this blessing, not as a _condition_, but,
    as a _part_,—a choice and inestimable _part_ of that complete
    salvation, which Jesus has purchased for me.

    “Now, if at any time, I am fervent in devotion,—seem to be in
    a gracious frame,—or am enabled to abound in the works of the
    Lord,—I endeavour to put no confidence in these bruised reeds,
    but to rest upon the Rock of Ages. Not in these, most blessed
    Jesus, but in Thy robes of righteousness, let me be found, when
    ‘God shall call the heavens from above, and the earth, that, He
    may judge His people.’

    “When, on the other hand, I feel myself most deplorably dead
    and deficient,—when I am apt to sigh for my unprofitableness,
    and cry out with the prophet, ‘My leanness, my leanness!’ I no
    longer comfort myself with saying, ‘Be of good cheer, soul, thy
    God requires only _sincere_ obedience, and, perhaps, to-morrow
    may be better than this day, and more abundant in acts of
    holiness.’ Jesus is now become my salvation, and this is my
    song in the house of my pilgrimage,—‘Why art thou cast down, O
    my soul?’ Though imperfect in thyself, thou art complete in thy
    Head. Though poor in thyself, thou hast unsearchable riches in
    thy Divine Surety. The righteousness of Thy obedience, O Lord
    Redeemer, is everlasting. O grant me an interest in this, and I
    shall live.

    “If overtaken by sin, or overcome by temptation, I dare not,
    as formerly, call to mind my righteous deeds, and so think to
    commute with Divine justice; or quit scores for my offences, by
    my duties. I do not, to ease my conscience, or be reconciled
    to God, promise stricter watchfulness, more alms, and renewed
    fastings. No; in such unhappy circumstances, turn, O my soul!
    neither to the right hand nor to the left; but fly instantly to
    Him, whom God has set forth for a propitiation. Hide thyself in
    His wounded side, and be safe. Wash in His streaming blood, and
    be clean.

    “If in these, or in other points, I am otherwise minded, than
    corresponds with the gospel of truth, cease not, dear sir, to
    pray, that, ‘God may reveal even this unto me.’

    “But why will not my dear friend come amongst us? Why won’t
    he drop his word towards the west? Many, in these parts, long
    for your arrival. Many long to hear the joyful sound from your
    lips. Many, I am assured, would hail my dear brother with that
    acclamation, ‘How beautiful are the feet of him that bringeth
    glad tidings; that bringeth glad tidings of good things!’ O
    that it would please the Divine Providence to direct your way
    unto us! Come, dear sir, come with the fulness of the blessings
    of the gospel of peace. Come amongst living multitudes, who
    will be attentive to hear you; and come, once more, into the
    arms of him who dearly loves you.

                                                   “J. HERVEY.”[159]

Hervey and Whitefield were young men, both twenty-five years of age;
but they were not novices in religious knowledge. By extensive reading,
by conversation, by docility, above all, by the blessed Bible, and by
the Spirit’s teaching, they had, at this early period of their history,
arrived at theological conclusions, from which they never wavered to the
end of life. Exception may be taken to some of the expressions of Hervey
in the foregoing letter; and to the Calvinistic views of both; but they
_believed_ what they preached; and they undoubtedly thought and felt that
their doctrines were founded upon the Divine authority of the sacred
Scriptures. It is no part of the plan of the present work to defend or
to attack the doctrines taught by the men whose histories are sketched;
but simply to furnish honest information respecting their manner of
life, their teaching, their religious experience, their success, and the
termination of their toil and suffering.

In 1740, Hervey’s health was sufficiently restored to justify his
undertaking the curacy of Bideford, where he continued till about the
month of July, 1743. His congregation was large, but his stipend small,
amounting to not more than £60 a year. Here he planned and partly
executed his “Meditations among the Tombs,” and his “Reflections on a
Flower Garden.” A ride from Bideford to Kilhampton suggested the former;
and the latter were, in part, composed in the summer-house of a pleasant
garden, belonging to the family with whom he lodged. At his entrance upon
his ministry at Bideford, he wrote as follows to his friend, Mr. Orchard,
in whose hospitable mansion he had been so long a guest:—

    “Your excellent proposal is not yet put into execution; we have
    no evening prayers in public as yet; nay, I have not so much as
    communicated the design to my rector. I am shamefully timorous:
    lions, giants, and the sons of Anak are much in my thoughts.
    I dream (and may it be no more than a dream, and not too real
    a presage,) of difficulties, both in getting leave to attempt,
    and in getting strength to perform, this spiritual service,
    which I owe to my little flock. Your zeal will reproach me with
    cowardice; your faith upbraid me with unbelief; but, O, let
    your charity and pity pray against both. I hope ere long to
    disclose the matter to Mr. Nichols.”

Another letter, written at Bideford, and addressed to Whitefield, will
be welcome. It strikingly exhibits the change in Hervey’s views and
religious character:—

                                                  “BIDEFORD, _1741_.

    “DEAR MR. WHITEFIELD,—Your favour struck me with an agreeable
    surprise. I verily thought my stubborn silence had razed me
    from your remembrance; but, since you still have an affection
    for an ungrateful friend, I take this opportunity of returning
    my grateful acknowledgments.

    “I rejoice to hear the Redeemer’s cause revives. Set up
    Thyself, O Incarnate God! above the heavens, and diffuse Thy
    glory through all the earth! Let Thy enemies perish, O Lord!
    Let disappointments attend the attempts of Thy foes and the
    devices of hell; but let Thy servants be prosperous, and their
    message crowned with success!

    “Dear sir, I cannot boast of trophies erected here by the
    Captain of our salvation; but, I hope, the arm of the Lord
    will be revealed more and more among us. I hope, the triumphs
    of free grace will have wider spread and free course, and will
    prevail mightily over our unbelief. I own, with shame and
    sorrow, that, I have been too long a blind leader of the blind.
    I have perverted the good ways of God, and have darkened the
    glory of redeeming merit and sovereign grace. I have dared
    to invade the prerogatives of an all-sufficient Saviour, and
    to pluck the crown off His head. I have derogated from the
    honours, the everlasting and incommunicable honours of Jesus.
    I have presumed to give works a share in the redemption and
    recovery of a lost sinner; and have placed those filthy rags
    upon the throne of the Lamb; and, by that means, debased the
    Saviour, and exalted the sinner.

    “But, I trust, the Divine truth begins to dawn upon my soul.
    Was I possest of all the righteous acts that have made saints
    and martyrs famous in all generations,—could they all be
    transferred to me, and might I call them all my own,—I would
    renounce them all that I might win Christ. I would not dare to
    appear before the bright and burning eye of God with such hay,
    straw, and stubble. No, dear sir, I would long to be clothed in
    a Mediator’s righteousness, and ascribe all my salvation to the
    most unmerited and freest grace.

    “Dear sir, cease not to pray for me; desist not to counsel me;
    since, I perceive, you cannot forbear to love me.

                             “I am,” etc.,

                                                        “J. HERVEY.”

In the discharge of his ministerial duties at Bideford Hervey was
exemplary. He preached twice every Sunday; and, on Tuesdays and Fridays,
expounded part of one of the Lessons for the day; except when he examined
the children, and gave explanations of the Church’s Catechism. Like his
friends Wesley and Whitefield, he also formed a religious society, which
continued to meet above forty years. This brought upon him considerable
reproach; but, “so far from being ashamed” of what he had done, he wrote,—

    “I am only ashamed of the inconsiderable assistance which I am
    able to contribute to so worthy an attempt. Ashamed! no; but
    if it were lawful for a Christian to glory in anything beside
    the cross of Christ, this should be matter of glory and triumph
    to me. Their scorns, derision, and mockery, I would bind on my
    head as a beautiful crown, and be better pleased with such a
    character, than with an ornament of gold about my neck.”[160]

Brave words were these! The Wesleys and Whitefield were encountering
murderous mobs in all directions; and, so far from complaining, were
“rejoicing, that, they were counted worthy to suffer shame for the name
of Jesus Christ.” The feebleness of Hervey’s body rendered it impossible
for him to undertake the rough mission work, which was so zealously
undertaken by his friends; but, the Christian heroism of his soul,
rendered him not unworthy of their brotherhood. The men, one and all,
were animated with the spirit of “the noble army of martyrs;” and, at any
moment, were prepared to die for the sake of the Lord Jesus. No wonder,
that, such men were successful, and, that, their memories are wreathed
with unfading laurels; while the names of their “enemies, persecutors,
and slanderers,” are either forgotten, or only remembered with contempt.

The Rev. Mr. Nichols, the Rector of Bideford, died early in the year
1741, only a few months after Hervey had entered upon his labours there;
and, as the Bideford living was a valuable one, there were a considerable
number of aspirants after it. On March 2, 1741, Hervey wrote to a friend
as follows:—

    “You have heard, I do not doubt, that, Mr. Nichols, my rector,
    is no more: who will succeed him is yet a secret. Many, I
    believe, are eagerly wishing for it, as a place of considerable
    profit, but few, perhaps, are solicitously considering whether
    they are equal to the discharge of so difficult and important
    a service. But hold, my pen: what have I to do to judge
    others? Let it be all my care to approve myself faithful in my
    appointed station.”

Shortly after this, Hervey was summoned home, on account of the serious
illness of his father. Hence the following:—

                                            “WESTON, _May 30, 1741_.

    “DEAR MR. W.⸺,—’Tis late, midnight drawing on, and the Sabbath
    approaches; but I must snatch a few minutes to tell my dear
    friend the good news. My father is made whole; quite freed from
    his pains; quite cured of his disorders; and almost in a new
    world. Deep, indeed, was his distress; grievous his affliction;
    but now the clouds are over and gone, and the voice of joy and
    health is restored to his dwelling.

    “Now, therefore, I am free: I have no engagement here. My
    father, it is true, offers me a curacy; but, if Mr. ⸺ chooses
    it, and my dear people think it may contribute in any measure
    to their spiritual benefit, nothing hinders but I may return
    to Bideford: Return, and address them much in the same strain
    as Peter bespoke the impotent man: ‘Eloquence and oratory,
    learning and accomplishments have I none; but such as I have,
    in the name of Jesus, give I you,’ ”From your affectionate
    friend,

                                                   “J. HERVEY.”[161]

Hervey did return to Bideford; but, at the end of about two years, the
new rector dismissed him, against the united request of his parishioners,
who offered to maintain him at their own expense. This, to a man of
Hervey’s exquisite sensitiveness of feeling, was no trivial trial. To the
people of Bideford he was devotedly attached. He writes, while still
among them:—

    “I live in the very heart of the town. O that the immortal
    interests of its inhabitants may be ever on my heart! May I
    covet no other prosperity, and pursue no other happiness, than
    to be an instrument of doing them some spiritual good! I hope,
    I shall never forget my dear people of Bideford. I shall bear
    them upon my heart, when I retire into my study for reading,
    when I walk solitary in the fields for exercise, and when I
    bend my knees before the God and Father of our Lord Jesus
    Christ.”

And again, after he had left them:—

    “I rejoice to hear that dear Mr. Thompson[162] proposes to make
    you a monthly visit. O that his doctrine may distil as the dew!
    He will teach you the way of God more perfectly, for he has the
    unction of the Holy One, and knows the truth as it is in Jesus.
    There will not be wanting those who will censure his righteous
    dealings, and ridicule his zeal for the glorious Redeemer; but
    all those who have Jesus and His salvation, will say, ‘The Lord
    prosper you!’ If any of my acquaintances think it worth their
    while to hear from me, I shall, with as much pleasure, go to my
    desk and write to them, as I formerly went to their houses and
    conversed with them. I assure you, I would still seek to please
    my people for their good to edification.”

Before following Hervey to his next sphere of labour, further extracts
from his correspondence, at and about this period, will help to
illustrate his character.

Hervey was an earnestly religious man, a devout student of the holy
Bible, and an extensive reader of pious authors, but he was also a lover
of at least some of the light and popular literature of the age. Hence
the following to his sister:—

                                      “BIDEFORD, _October 12, 1742_.

    “See how our judgments and inclinations alter in process of
    time! I once thought, I should make less use of the _Spectator_
    than you; but now, I believe, the reverse of this is true; for
    we read one or more of these elegant and instructive papers
    every morning at breakfast, and they are served up with our
    tea, according to their original design. We reckon our repast
    imperfect without a little of Mr. Addison’s or Mr. Steele’s
    company.”

Such a confession is not surprising in a man who was now employed in
writing “Meditations among the Tombs,” and “Reflections on a Flower
Garden.”

Hervey seems to have left Bideford in the month of July, 1743; but, on
his way to Northamptonshire, he halted at Bath, where he resided several
weeks, and wrote a number of his most interesting letters. The following
are extracts from some of them:—

    “DEAR MRS. A⸺,—I am got as far as Bath, in my way homeward; and
    here I am likely to make a considerable stay. My friend, Mr.
    C⸺,[163] has taken a trip into Devon, and left me entrusted
    with his flock: so that, here is my abode till his return
    releases me.

    “Sunday last[164] I spent at Bristol, attending Mr.
    Whitefield’s preaching. Never have I seen, never have I read,
    so remarkable an accomplishment of our Lord’s promise, as is
    evident in that indefatigable, powerful preacher. He does
    indeed believe in his Divine Master, and _out of his heart flow
    rivers of living waters_.

    “This afternoon, some hopeful young persons came to visit me.
    They seemed to be in the number of those who are pressing
    forward unto the prize of their high calling in Christ Jesus.
    Perceiving them to be thus minded, I introduced a discourse
    concerning growth in grace,” etc.[165]

The next furnishes a glimpse of Bath a hundred and thirty years ago.

    TO MRS. ORCHARD.

                                            BATH, _August 10, 1743_.

    “MADAM,—I expected to have been at home before this time; but,
    as I have dropped short at Bath, and am likely to continue here
    awhile, you will give me leave to transmit my best wishes from
    hence.

    “There is a good deal of company at Bath. A new mineral water
    is found out, about a mile distant from the city. It is grown
    into considerable repute, and is much frequented. Several of
    the nobility and gentry drink it constantly. It will not bear
    bottling, and, for that reason, must be used on the spot. It is
    called the Lincomb Spa.

    “The latter season is approaching, which, you know, madam,
    brings abundance of strangers with it. Some invalids resort
    to the English Bethesda; some, as lovers of pleasure, to this
    mart for all manner of diversions. Every one seems studious
    of making a gay and grand appearance. It is, I think, one of
    the most glittering places I ever beheld. ‘Anointed with oil,
    crowned with rose-buds, and decked with purple and fine linen,’
    they sport away their days, chanting to the sound of the viol,
    drinking wine in bowls, and stretching themselves on couches
    of ivory; and, perhaps, never remembering the afflictions of
    Jesus, nor His love, ‘which is better than wine,’ nor His name,
    ‘which is as ointment poured forth.’

    “While they are contriving every art to embellish their
    persons, let us, dear madam, give all diligence to be
    all-glorious within. While they are studying to outvie the
    butterfly and the tulip, let us be animated by higher views,
    and put on the Lord Jesus Christ,” etc....

    “And now, madam, will you permit me to anticipate a remark
    which you will naturally make. Shall I spare you the necessity
    of saying, Why here is a sermon instead of a letter.

    “Indeed, madam, if it be a sermon, the Bath finery has
    furnished me with a text.

    “And why, good madam, should not the world expect such
    sermon-like epistles from us ministers? Why will not they let
    us be comformable to ourselves, and act in character? Would you
    not expect to hear of engagements and victories from a soldier
    just come from making a campaign? Would any one be surprised to
    find a merchant discoursing of foreign affairs, or canvassing
    the state of trade? Nay, is it not allowable even for our
    tailor and milliner to talk of the newest fashions and most
    modish colour? Why, then, should not the agents for the court
    of heaven treat of heavenly things? Why should not their whole
    conversation savour of their calling? Why should they be one
    thing when they bend the knee, and another when they put pen
    to paper? Why act one part when they speak from the pulpit,
    and quite a different one when they converse in the parlour?
    To say the truth, madam, if you do not allow me this liberty,
    I may pretend, indeed, but can never act the grateful, the
    affectionate, the faithful, humble servant.”

The following is an extract from an enormously long letter, of eighteen
printed pages, addressed to a clergyman, who had been preaching in the
Abbey Church.

                                           “BATH, _August 27, 1743_.

    “REVEREND SIR,—Sunday last, I happened not to be at the Abbey
    Church in the afternoon; but, conversing with a gentleman who
    was one of your auditors, I desired to have a summary account
    of your sermon. And, truly, he gave me such an account as both
    astonished and grieved me. You dignified worldly prosperity at
    so extraordinary a rate, and almost canonized the prosperous
    man. On the other hand, you vilified the glorious Jesus in
    so scandalous a manner, and set the Incarnate Godhead to
    one of the most ignoble and abominable offices. This made me
    encourage my friend to send you a word of admonition; and, when
    he declined, I could not forbear undertaking it myself. For,
    it would be unkind to you, sir, to perceive you under such
    grievous mistakes, and not to warn you of the error of your
    ways. Nor would it be less unfaithful to your Master, and my
    Master, to be informed of such preaching, and suffer it to pass
    current, without any animadversion.

    “I understand, you first exhorted people to rejoice, when
    their circumstances were affluent and their worldly affairs
    prosperous. You enforced this palatable advice by the precepts
    of Scripture; and, lest it should not be received with a proper
    welcome, you further urged it on your hearers by the example of
    our blessed Saviour.

    “In opposition to this strain of teaching, permit me to
    observe, 1. That, worldly prosperity is no sufficient cause
    for a Christian to rejoice. 2. That, it is often one of the
    sorest evils that can befal a person. And 3. Allow me to sketch
    out the true nature of spiritual prosperity; or discover what
    is that solid ground for rejoicing, which the oracles of God
    recommend.”

These were the three points explained and enforced in Hervey’s pungent
and scorching letter, sent to the clerical sycophant, who, because
the sinners, in his crowded church, were fashionable ones, imitated,
not the honest Baptist of Scripture history, but the dangerous Syren
of ancient mythology, and flattered the rich and elegantly dressed
“children of wrath” who sat before him, instead of reproving their sins,
and proclaiming their danger. Hervey was still young in years; but the
unfaithful preacher deserved all he got.

This was not the only rebuke which Hervey administered during his brief
residence in the gay city of the west. At this period, Bath was, perhaps,
the most fashionable place in Great Britain; and the most renowned man in
Bath was Richard, commonly called “Beau,” Nash. Four years before, this
accomplished rake had endeavoured to prevent Wesley preaching in the city
where, by a sort of general consent, he acted as the king of all the fops
and fashionables there assembled; but Nash was not a match for the poor,
persecuted Methodist; and, smarting from Wesley’s keen retort, and stung
by an old woman’s taunts, was glad to sneak away from a scene of conflict
of his own creating. Beau Nash was still in power; and now young Hervey
addressed to him the following faithful, and caustic letter,—

    “SIR,—This comes from your sincere friend, and one, who has
    your best interest deeply at heart. It comes on a design
    altogether important, and of no less consequence than your
    everlasting happiness; so that, it may justly challenge your
    careful regard. It is not to upbraid or reproach, much less
    to triumph and insult over your misconduct. No; it is pure
    benevolence,—it is disinterested good-will which prompts me
    to write; so that, I hope, I will not raise your resentment.
    However, be the issue what it will, I cannot bear to see
    you walk in the paths that lead to death, without warning
    you of your danger,—without sounding in your ears the awful
    admonition, ‘Return and live;—for why will you die?’ I beg of
    you to consider, whether you do not, in some measure, resemble
    those accursed children of Eli, whom, though they were famous
    in their generation, and men of renown, yet, vengeance suffered
    not to live. For my part, I may safely use the expostulation
    of the old priest,—‘Why do you such things? For I hear of your
    evil dealings by all this people; nay, my brother, for it is no
    good report I hear; you make the Lord’s people to transgress.’

    “I have long observed and pitied you: and a most melancholy
    spectacle, I lately beheld, made me resolve to caution you,
    lest you also come into the same condemnation.

    “I was, not long since, called to visit a poor gentleman,
    erewhile of the most robust body and gayest temper I ever knew;
    but, when I visited him, oh! how was the glory departed from
    him! I found him no more that sprightly and vivacious son of
    joy which he used to be; but languishing, pining away, and
    withering under the chastising hand of God: his limbs feeble
    and trembling; his countenance forlorn and ghastly; and the
    little breath he had left sobbed out in sorrowful sighs; his
    body hastening apace to the dust, to lodge in the silent grave,
    the land of darkness and desolation; his soul just going to
    God who gave it, preparing itself to wing its way to its long
    home, to enter upon an unchangeable and eternal state. When I
    was come up into his chamber, and had seated myself on his bed,
    he first cast a most wishful look upon me, and then began, as
    well as he was able, to speak. ‘Oh! that I had been wise, that
    I had known this, that I had considered my latter end! Ah! Mr.
    H⸺y, death is knocking at my doors; in a few hours more, I
    shall draw my last gasp, and, then, judgment, the tremendous
    judgment! How shall I appear, unprepared as I am, before the
    all-knowing and Omnipotent God? How shall I endure the day
    of His coming?’ When I mentioned, among other things, that
    _strict holiness_ which he had formerly so lightly esteemed,
    he replied, with a hasty eagerness, ‘Oh! that _holiness_ is
    the only thing I now long for. I have not words to tell you
    how highly I value it. I would gladly part with all my estate,
    large as it is, or a world, to obtain it. Now my benighted
    eyes are enlightened. I clearly discern the things that are
    excellent. What is there in the place whither I am going but
    God? Or what is there to be desired on earth but religion?’
    But, if this God should restore you to health, said I, think
    you that you would alter your former course? ‘I call heaven and
    earth to witness,’ said he, ‘I would labour for holiness as I
    shall soon labour for life. As for riches and pleasures and the
    applauses of men, I account them as dross and dung; no more
    to my happiness than the feathers that lie on the floor. Oh!
    if the righteous Judge would try me once more; if He would but
    reprieve and spare me a little longer;—in what a spirit would I
    spend the remainder of my days! I would know no other business,
    aim at no other end, than perfecting myself in holiness.
    Whatever contributed to that,—every means of grace,—every
    opportunity of spiritual improvement,—should be dearer to me
    than thousands of gold and silver. But alas! why do I amuse
    myself with fond imaginations? The best resolutions are now
    insignificant, because they are too late. The day in which I
    should have worked is over and gone; and I see a sad horrible
    night approaching, bringing with it the blackness of darkness
    for ever. Heretofore, (woe is me!) when God called, I refused;
    when He invited, I was one of them that made excuse; now,
    therefore, I receive the reward of my deeds. Fearfulness and
    trembling are come upon me. I smart; I am in anguish already;
    and yet this is but the beginning of sorrows! It doth not yet
    appear what I shall be;—but sure I shall be ruined, undone, and
    destroyed with an everlasting destruction.’

    “This sad scene I saw with my eyes; these words, and many
    more equally affecting, I heard with my ears; and soon after
    attended the unhappy gentleman to his tomb. The poor breathless
    skeleton spoke in such an accent, and with so much earnestness,
    that I could not easily forget him or his words; and, as I was
    musing upon this sorrowful subject, I remembered Mr. Nash;—I
    remembered you, sir;—for I discerned too near an agreement
    and correspondence between the deceased and yourself. They,
    are alike, said I, in their ways; and what shall hinder them
    from being alike in their end? The course of their actions was
    equally full of sin and folly; and why should not the period of
    them be equally full of horror and distress? I am grievously
    afraid for the survivor, least, as he lives the life, so he
    should die the death of this wretched man, and his latter end
    should be like his.

    “For this cause, therefore, I take my pen, to advise,—to
    admonish,—nay, to request of you to repent while you have
    opportunity, if happily you may find grace and forgiveness. Yet
    a moment, and you _may_ die: yet a little while, and you _must_
    die; and will you go down with infamy and despair to the grave,
    rather than depart in peace, and with hopes full of immortality?

    “But I must tell you plainly, sir, with the utmost freedom,
    that, your present behaviour is not the way to reconcile
    yourself to God. You are so far from making atonement to
    offended justice, that you are aggravating the former account,
    and heaping up an increase of wrath against the day of wrath.
    For what say the Scriptures? Those books which, at the
    consummation of all things, the Ancient of days shall open,
    and judge you by every jot and tittle therein—what say these
    sacred volumes? Why, they testify and declare to every soul
    of man, ‘That, whosoever liveth in pleasure is dead while he
    liveth’; so that, so long as you roll on in a continued circle
    of sensual delights and vain entertainments, you are dead to
    all the purposes of piety and virtue; you are odious to God,
    as a corrupt carcass putrifying in the church-yard; you are as
    far from doing your duty, or working out your salvation, or
    restoring yourself to the divine favour, as a heap of dry bones
    nailed up in a coffin is from vigour and activity.

    “Think, sir, I conjure you, think upon this, if you have any
    inclination to escape the fire that never will be quenched.
    Would you be rescued from the fury and fierce anger of Almighty
    God? Would you be delivered from weeping, and wailing, and
    incessant gnashing of teeth? Sure you would! Then, I exhort
    you as a friend; I beseech you as a brother; I charge you as
    a messenger from the great God, in His own most solemn words:
    ‘Cast away from you your transgressions; make you a new heart
    and a new spirit; so iniquity shall not be your ruin.’

    “Perhaps you may be disposed to contemn this and its serious
    import, or to recommend it to your companions as a fit subject
    for raillery; but, let me tell you beforehand, that for this,
    as well as for other things, God will bring you into judgment.
    He sees me now write. He will observe you while you read.
    He notes down my words in His book. He will note down your
    consequent procedure. So that, not upon me, but, upon your own
    self, will the neglecting or despising of my sayings turn. ‘If
    thou be wise, thou shalt be wise for thyself; if thou scornest,
    thou alone shalt bear it.’

    “Be not concerned, sir, to know my name. It is enough that you
    will know this hereafter. Tarry but a little, till the Lord,
    even the most mighty God, shall call the heaven from above, and
    the earth, that He may judge His people, and then you will see
    me face to face. There shall I be ready, at the dread tribunal,
    to joy and rejoice with you, if you regard my admonitions, and
    live; or to be—what God prevent—by not inclining your heart to
    receive this friendly admonition.”

This was plain dealing; but was greatly needed. To write such a
letter, to such a man,—an accomplished gallant, exercising sovereignty
over nearly all the fashionable residents of a gambling, dissipated
city,—required no ordinary courage in a young clergyman, who had not
yet attained his thirtieth year. How it was received, and what were its
effects, we are left to guess; but it is a curious fact, that, it was not
destroyed, but was found among Nash’s papers after his decease.

Leaving Bath, Hervey, in October, 1743, became curate to his father, at
Weston-Favel, a small village of three or four hundred inhabitants, near
Northampton; and here, in this rural seclusion, he continued to reside
(with the exception of a short interval) until his death, in 1758.

His pastoral duties were comparatively light; but his time was not
unoccupied. Compared with the career of Wesley and Whitefield, who were
living a rough, itinerant life, this settlement of Hervey was a perfect
contrast; but, it must be borne in mind, that, Hervey was physically
unfit for the out-door preaching, which his two old Oxford friends were
practising. His voice was unsuitable for such exercises. The exposure
to rain, frost, and snow, would have made his brief life briefer still.
Besides, the delicate gentleness of his nature totally disqualified him
for encountering the hardships, privations, and persecutions of Wesley
and Whitefield’s wandering life. It would be hasty to say, that, he was
lacking in faith, love, zeal, prayer, and religious energy. He possessed
all these in a far more than ordinary degree. In this respect he had
but few equals, and scarcely any superiors. The spirit was willing,
but the flesh was weak. To imitate Wesley, Whitefield, Grimshaw,
Berridge, was simply impossible; but Hervey did all he could. He most
conscientiously cared for the souls of his handful of parishioners;
and as conscientiously employed his leisure, not only in writing long
religious letters to his absent friends, but, in composing books, which,
as every one admits, breathe the devoutest piety, and which have been
read, with pleasure and with profit, by thousands belonging to each
successive generation during the last hundred and twenty years. Hervey’s
life was not a failure, because the last fifteen years of it were spent
in a secluded country village.

Apart from his ministerial duties, the first labour to which his
attention was devoted, after his settlement at Weston-Favel, was
the finishing and the publication of the well-known works begun in
Devonshire, namely, “Meditations among the Tombs,” and “Reflections on a
Flower Garden.” Hence the following:—

“AT MR. THOMAS HERVEY’S, IN BASINGHALL STREET, LONDON, _May 23, 1745_.

    “DEAR MR. ⸺,—You will be surprised when you observe the place
    from whence this letter is dated. Prevailed on by the kind
    solicitations of my friends, I have taken a trip to London,
    where I propose to continue about a fortnight.

    “Your last two favours I received together. I thank you for the
    specimen of types. I hope better paper is intended to be used,
    than that whereon the types were printed; which I think coarse
    and slovenly. I am most inclined to send abroad the pieces in
    a matrimonial state: I mean, not in separate pamphlets, but
    united in a volume. They seem to be a contrast to each other,
    and may, perhaps, mutually recommend one another. Probably the
    ‘Meditations among the Tombs’ may carry too doleful an aspect;
    and, if not enlivened a little with the brighter scenes of
    ‘The Garden,’ may terrify the reader, and create disgust. I
    shall take an opportunity of talking with Mr. Richardson on
    this affair; and shall, if he takes the trouble of perusing
    it, put one of the letters into his hands: though it must be
    the mourning piece, because I have no copy of the gayer essay,
    but what is in shorthand. What you hint at, with regard to the
    largeness of the character, that old and enfeebled eyes may be
    able to read it, is perfectly right. I shall desire that this
    suggestion may be observed.

    “I hope your ingenious friend has examined the piece, with a
    kind severity, by this time. It will be a favour if you will
    give me a line while I abide in the city; and a greater, if you
    will inform me of Mr. S—h—m’s opinion, and transmit me some
    of his remarks. Before I sent the ‘Reflections’ to Bath, Mr.
    Payne, brother to our old acquaintance, gave them a reading. He
    frankly acquainted me, in a letter, both with what he liked,
    and what he disapproved of. He advised me to expunge the long
    note relating to Mr. Pope’s opinion.[166] He is a Fellow of
    King’s College, and a very ingenious scholar. Upon the whole,
    he declared himself pleased with the performance, and marked
    out several places that struck his fancy in a peculiar manner.

    “My heart’s desire and prayer to God is, that it may be, in
    some degree, serviceable to the interests of religion: which
    end, of all others most desirable and important, if it may be
    so happy as to promote, I shall rejoice in the publication.
    Otherwise, may Providence, which discerns the remotest
    consequences of every transaction, not give it an imprimatur.

    “I have no motto for the thoughts among the tombs.[167] Does
    any fine passage, from the ancients or moderns, proper to
    introduce and give credit to such serious remarks, occur to
    your mind?

    “Now, perhaps, you will expect to hear how I proceed in London.
    I intend, sir, to see and hear as much as I possibly can, in
    the space allotted for my stay. I have thoughts of going,
    incog., to the places of teaching and worship, frequented
    by persons of every denomination. ‘Try all things,’ is the
    Apostle’s permission; ‘Hold fast that which is good,’ is his
    direction. I shall indulge myself in the one; may I be enabled
    to put in practice the other!

    “I believe it will be my most prudent course not to visit a
    certain lady. If I debar myself that pleasure, it will be
    entirely owing to an apprehension of wounding my own ease
    and tranquility. Who knows what impressions may be made by
    an amiable person and engaging behaviour, heightened by the
    exercise of good sense, and completed by an apparent regard for
    religion and eternity? Indeed, sir, I must own, my heart is not
    proof against such charms.

    “Since I wrote the preceding, I have heard our old
    acquaintance.[168] He preached upon, ‘The gift of the Holy
    Ghost:’ showed what fruits it produced in the heart and life;
    then applied the whole by way of examination, in a searching
    and very forcible manner. May I never forget what was uttered
    this night! Might I but experience it, I should bless the
    day in which I was born. I have room to add no more, than my
    service to Mrs. ⸺; and that the favour must be speedy, if you
    intend me a letter while in London.

                         “Yours affectionately,

                                                   “J. HERVEY.”[169]

An extract from another letter, on the same subject, may not be
unacceptable. Probably it was addressed to Dr. Doddridge.

                                     “WESTON-FAVEL, _Nov. 16, 1745_.

    “SIR,—It is not easy to express the satisfaction, I received
    from your agreeable and useful conversation this afternoon. I
    rejoice to find that there are gentlemen of genius, learning,
    and politeness, who dare profess a supreme value for the
    Scriptures, and are not ashamed of the cross of Christ.

    “This brings the dedication and the preface, which are to
    introduce a little essay, entitled, ‘Meditations among the
    Tombs,’ and ‘Reflections on a Flower Garden,’ in two letters
    to a lady. I hope, sir, in consequence of your kind promise,
    you will please to peruse them with the file in your hand. The
    severity of the critic, and the kindness of the friend, in this
    case, will be inseparable. The evangelical strain, I believe,
    must be preserved; because, otherwise, the introductory
    thoughts will not harmonize with the subsequent, the porch
    will be unsuitable to the building. But, if you perceive any
    meanness of expression, any quaintness of sentiment, or any
    other impropriety and inelegance, I shall acknowledge it as a
    very singular favour, if you will be so good as to discover and
    correct such blemishes.

    “I hope, sir, my end in venturing to publish is a hearty desire
    to serve, in some little degree, the interests of Christianity,
    by endeavouring to set some of its most important truths in
    a light that may both entertain and edify. As I profess this
    view, I am certain, your affectionate regard for the most
    excellent religion imaginable, will incline you to be concerned
    for the issue of such an attempt; and, therefore, to contribute
    to its success, both by bestowing your animadversions upon
    these small parts, and by speaking of the whole (when it shall
    come abroad) with all that candour which is natural to the
    Christian, and will be so greatly needed by this new adventurer
    in letters, who is, etc.,

                                                        “J. HERVEY.”

Hervey’s book, referred to in these letters, was published in 1746, the
size, 8vo., the pages, 216. The lady to whom it was dedicated was the
daughter of his friend, the Rev. Mr. Thompson, Vicar of St. Gennys,
Cornwall. The book is too well known to render an account of its contents
necessary; but a brief extract from the preface will show the objects at
which he aimed.

    “The first of these occasional Meditations begs leave to
    remind my readers of their latter end; and would invite them
    to set, not their houses only, but, which is inexpressibly
    more needful, their souls in order; that they may be able,
    through all the intermediate stages, to look forward upon their
    approaching exit, without any anxious apprehension.

    “The other attempts to sketch out some little traces of the
    All-sufficiency of our Redeemer, for the grand and gracious
    purposes of our everlasting salvation; that a sense of His
    unutterable dignity and infinite perfections may incite us to
    regard Him with sentiments of the most profound veneration, to
    long for an assured interest in His merits, and to trust in His
    powerful mediation, with an affiance not to be shaken by any
    temptation, not to be shared with any performances of our own.”

During the year 1746, Hervey wrote to a friend several long and very
valuable letters on the doctrine of the Trinity. These may be found in
his collected works, and are well worth reading. He also, as was his
usage, carried on an extensive correspondence concerning experimental
and practical religion; and his letters, belonging to this class, though
occasionally verbose and fanciful, are characterized by the devoutest
piety. None but a godly man could have written them; and none but godly
people will peruse them. Many of them are almost little sermons, and
all of them are rich in religious truth. In the days of penny postage,
letters like these are rarely written; and it is greatly to be feared,
that, English biographers in future centuries, will find a vexatious lack
of biographical material belonging to this. People are too busy to write
long letters; and, were it otherwise, the removal of the heavy postage
of olden times has taken away one of the chief stimulants to make a
letter longer than the pressing necessities of the case demand. Besides,
locomotion is now so easy, cheap, and rapid, that friends, instead of
sending their secrets to each other, in a written form, prefer to make a
railway trip, and to tell them _viva voce_. Things were widely different
a hundred years ago; and, hence, the extensiveness, richness, the
fulness, and detail, the confidential gossip, and the heart-outpourings
found in the correspondence of our English ancestors. They wrote letters:
their grandsons send telegrams. The letters are of the greatest use
to those who wish to become biographers. The telegrams are usually
burnt as soon as they are read. In former days, letters were too long,
interesting, and valuable to be destroyed. At the present day, they are
too brief and common-place, to be worth preserving. The results of such a
change in the epistolary habits of the people, are not felt at present;
but they will be bitterly lamented in the approaching future.

Not to mention other distinguished men belonging to the past, the
most eminent of the Oxford Methodists all excelled in epistolary
correspondence. Wesley’s collected works alone contain nine hundred and
twenty-three of his private letters; Whitefield’s works, when published,
even more than a hundred years ago, contained one thousand four hundred
and sixty-five; while the works of short-lived Hervey, by far the
_longest_ letter writer of the three, contain two hundred and nine, to
all of which must be added hundreds more, published in other forms.

In a book like this, it is impracticable to do more than very sparingly
employ such copious materials; and nearly all that is attempted, in the
case of Hervey, is to give only extracts containing incidents. These,
however, shall be as exhaustive as possible. Proceeding on this plan, the
following belong to the year when Hervey first became an author.

Hervey’s charity to the poor was only limited by his means, and even such
a limit was sometimes overstepped. At Bideford, for instance, such was
his unbounded benevolence, that, to prevent embarrassment, his friends
practised upon him the innocent deception of borrowing his money when
he received his salary, lest he should disperse it all in benefactions;
and then repaying it as his necessities required. All the profits of his
‘Meditations,’ amounting to £700 pounds, he distributed in charitable
donations; and directed that any profit, arising from the sale of his
books after his decease, should be used in the same manner.

    “This,” said he, “I have devoted to God. I will, on no account,
    apply it to any worldly uses. I write, not for profit, nor
    fame, but, to serve the cause of God; and as He hath blessed my
    attempt, I think myself bound to relieve the distresses of my
    fellow-creatures with the profits that come from this quarter.”

The following extract is in harmony with this:—

                                      “WESTON-FAVEL, _Feb. 2, 1746_.

    “DEAR MR. W⸺,—Your spouse informed me, you were concerned, that
    the little money, I left in your hands, had not been remitted
    to me; but, dear sir, I am glad on this account. If it may be
    the means of cherishing one of the least of our Redeemer’s
    brethren, I rejoice that it has not been returned.

    “You did right in delivering a guinea to Mrs. Williams, for
    the benefit of poor widow Cole. If Molly Lake, or Betty Peak,
    are in want, by all means, let them be relieved. Tell them,
    I present them each with a crown; and bid them think, if a
    poor mortal, a wretched sinner, is so ready to help them,
    according to his ability, how much more ready is the infinitely
    compassionate Saviour of the world to pity all their miseries,
    and comfort them in all their troubles. Were it in my power,
    I would willingly do more for them; but let them remember
    that the power of the blessed Jesus knows no limits. Oh, it
    is impossible to imagine how rich our Divine Master is in
    goodness, and how mighty in power!”[170]

Every one knows that, in 1745, England was thrown into a state of the
utmost excitement, by the landing of Charles Edward Stuart, and his
Scotch and Irish adherents, and by the futile march to Manchester, and
subsequent retreat to Culloden. The following refers to this and other
matters:—

                                      “WESTON-FAVEL, _Feb. 9, 1746_.

    “Thanks to you, dear sir, for your kind wishes. Blessed be the
    Divine Providence! I am now able to inform you, that what you
    wished is accomplished. I have had one of the most agreeable
    losses I ever met with. I have lost my indisposition, and am,
    in a manner, quite well.

    “I congratulate you, sir, and my country, on the good news
    received from the north.

    “How do you like Stackhouse’s History of the Bible? I am
    sure, he has one advantage superior to all the historians of
    the world, namely, that, the facts, which he relates, are
    more venerable for their antiquity, more admirable for their
    grandeur, and more important on account of their universal
    usefulness. The Scriptures are finely calculated to furnish the
    most exquisite entertainment to the imagination, from those
    three principal sources, mentioned by Mr. Addison,—the great,
    the beautiful, and the new.”

The next was written to his Cornish friend, the Rev. Mr. Thompson, of St.
Gennys,—a gentleman possessed of considerable property, and whose family
seat was at Brynsworthy, near Barnstaple, in Devonshire.

                                           “WESTON, _June 28, 1746_.

    “DEAR MR. THOMPSON,—Your last gave me hopes of the speedy
    receipt of another letter; in pleasing expectation of which, I
    have waited thus long. But now my pen refuses to be restrained,
    and, therefore, writes to the friend whom its master honours,
    and loves from his very soul.

    “I presume, this will find you at Brynsworthy, that agreeable
    seat, where, three years ago, I passed several delightful
    weeks. Oh! when shall I spend my hours of conversation so much
    to my improvement!

    “I very much want to know something relating to the condition
    and conduct of my old acquaintance. When were you at the
    Abbey?[171] When did you favour Bideford with your company? How
    goes on the good cause among the people lately committed to my
    care? How are your lectures prospered at your own and Mr. B⸺’s
    Churches?[172] Have you heard of Mr. S⸺? Where is he settled,
    and how does he proceed? Is Mr. W⸺’s abode in your parts? I
    hope, his manner of life answers your expectations of him; and,
    I hope, your acts of kindness and words of exhortation have not
    been in vain. Have you received any tidings of, or from, Mr.
    Walker?

    “One more question permit me to ask, and I have done with my
    interrogatories. Did not a certain Cornish clergyman take a
    journey to Exeter some time ago, on a very particular occasion?
    Was he not summoned to appear before the bishop of the diocese,
    in order to give an account of his behaviour and zeal?

    “If you have any knowledge of this remarkable affair, (and I
    believe it will be impossible to apply to one who knows it more
    perfectly), be pleased to favour me with a narrative of its
    occasion, its circumstances, and its issue. I imagine an answer
    to this one query, will furnish materials for a very long
    letter.[173]

    “We had this week a very heavy storm of rain, attended with a
    surprising darkness, awful thunders, and fierce lightnings.
    At a celebrated fair, that was held upon a spacious common in
    this neighbourhood, several persons were struck down with the
    flashes, and one poor man, with two horses, killed upon the
    spot.

    “I congratulate you, dear sir, and my country in general, on
    the late most important and happy victory obtained by the
    gallant Duke of Cumberland. We can never be sufficiently
    thankful to the God of the armies of Israel for turning the
    scale of war in our favour at that ever-memorable event.[174]

    “My little piece, entitled ‘Meditations among the Tombs’
    and ‘Reflections on a Flower Garden,’ has been published a
    considerable time.[175] I have taken the liberty to dedicate it
    to Miss R. Thompson; and, was I near, or had I the opportunity
    of conveyance, would desire Miss C. Thompson to accept one of
    the books. The thing, I am told, finds acceptance with the
    public, greater indeed than I durst expect. Mr. Richardson,
    the author of ‘Pamela,’ is my printer. Seven hundred and
    fifty copies are struck off; the printer and writer are joint
    adventurers with regard to pecuniary advantages, if any such
    should accrue from the sale. If, at some leisure moment, you
    should happen to cast a glance upon the lines, mark, dear sir,
    their blemishes, correct their improprieties, and improve them
    into a greater neatness, in case a second edition should be
    demanded. O may they tend, in some small degree, to awaken my
    readers into a serious concern for their eternal state, and
    lead their minds unto the Rock of ages, the Hope of all the
    ends of the earth, Jesus Christ! May they, under the propitious
    influence of grace, answer this desirable end; or else let them
    share the fate of literary rubbish, and be swept away into
    utter oblivion!

    “Be pleased to make my most respectful and affectionate
    compliments acceptable to Mrs. Thompson. I wish Miss Thompson
    may be a living picture of that amiable and virtuous woman,
    whose price is above rubies. If your trusty friend, Mr. B
    (ennet) is with you, pray tell him I love him, because he loves
    Mr. Thompson.

    “Should you inquire after my state, you will find a description
    of it, Judges viii. 4—‘Faint, yet pursuing.’ Cease not, dear
    sir, to pray, that, the hands which hang down may be lifted
    up, and the feeble knees strengthened, to walk in the way
    everlasting.

    “In your last, you inquired after a very holy woman, whose name
    is Mary. I have asked Dr. Doddridge about her. He declined
    giving me a particular account of her intercourse with
    heaven, and only said, that, she was a very sincere and devout
    soul, but somewhat addicted to chimerical and extravagant
    imaginations. The Doctor desired me to transmit his cordial
    good wishes and service to yourself and spouse.

    “Let it not be long before dear Mr. Thompson, with a letter,
    delights, animates, and comforts, his most obliged and
    affectionate friend,

                                                     “JAMES HERVEY.”

The success of the “Meditations and Reflections” was such, as to
encourage Hervey to attempt another work of the same description. Hence,
the following letter, probably addressed either to his friend Dr.
Doddridge or Dr. Stonehouse:—

                                      “WESTON-FAVEL, _Nov. 1, 1746_.

    “DEAR SIR,—This morning, I received your favour. The day
    lowers, and threatens rain, which debars me from the pleasure
    of paying you my thanks in person.

    “Mr. Huygens[176] I hope to read very carefully; but, I
    believe, it will be proper to take heed of adopting into my
    plans any notions that are difficult and abstruse. I would have
    everything so perspicuous, that, the dimmest understanding
    may apprehend my meaning; so obvious, that, he who runs may
    read. Let me lay before you a little sketch of my design, with
    a request, that, you would alter the general order, and make
    retrenchments, or additions of particular incidents, as you
    shall think most expedient.

    “A contemplative walk. The approach of evening, and gradual
    extinction of light. The advantages of solitude. The stillness
    of the universe. The coolness of the atmosphere. Darkness, and
    its usefulness to mankind. Sleep, and its beneficial effects.
    Dreams, and their extravagance. A glow-worm glimmering. An
    owl shrieking. A nightingale singing. The very different
    circumstances of mankind; some revelling and carousing;
    some agonizing and dying; A knell sounding; The notion of
    ghosts walking; The moon, with its various appearances, and
    serviceableness to our globe;—the heavenly bodies—their
    number, size, courses, distances,—display many of the glorious
    attributes of their Creator; some of which are specified. They
    teach nothing of redemption; this, the peculiar prerogative of
    revelation—Christ, the day-star from on high, that points out,
    and makes clear the way of salvation.

    “These are some of the subjects which, I imagined, might be
    admitted into the composition of a Night-piece. If others occur
    to your mind more pleasing, or more striking, be pleased to
    suggest them.

    “I am glad to find, by the quotation from Mr. Locke, that
    your esteem and veneration for the Scriptures are on the
    increasing hand. May we be persuaded, even more and more, of
    the incomparable excellency of those sacred volumes! This one
    consideration, that they are the Book of God, is a higher
    recommendation of them, than could be displayed in ten thousand
    panegyric orations. For my part, I purpose to addict myself,
    with more incessant assiduity, to this delightful and Divine
    study. Away, my Homer! I have no more need of being entertained
    by you, since Job and the prophets furnish me with images much
    more magnificent, and lessons infinitely more important. Away,
    my Horace! Nor shall I suffer any loss by your absence, while
    the sweet singer of Israel tunes his lyre, and charms me with
    the finest flights of fancy, and inspirits me with the noblest
    strains of devotion. And even my prime favourite, my Virgil,
    may withdraw; since, in Isaiah, I enjoy all his majesty of
    sentiment, all his correctness of judgment, all his beautiful
    propriety of diction, and⸺But I must have done. The messenger
    waits; he can stay no longer, than barely to allow me leisure
    to subscribe myself, dear sir, etc.,

                                                        “J. HERVEY.”

While Hervey was thus occupied in literary pursuits, he was neither
unmindful of his flock, nor of the general claims of Christian charity.
Among other public institutions in which he felt deeply interested, the
county hospital of Northampton was not the least important In a letter,
apparently to Dr. Stonehouse, he writes:—

                                 “WESTON-FAVEL, _November 22, 1746_.

    “DEAR SIR,—I heartily applaud the zeal you show for the
    spiritual welfare of the patients. The infirmary would be
    an inestimable blessing, if it might be productive of a
    reformation in the persons whom it admits and discharges. As
    distressed objects will, in all probability, resort to it from
    all parts of the county, a change wrought in their hearts,
    and a renewal begun in their lives, might be a happy means of
    diffusing religion far and near. I hope the clergy, concerned
    in the management, will concur in the prosecution of so
    desirable an end. I wish some proper scheme was contrived for
    this, in which I might bear some little part, without giving
    umbrage to my brethren, or alarming their jealousy. I have
    thought of offering to give the patients a kind of lecture or
    exhortation once a week; but, sometimes doubtful whether such a
    proposal would meet with acceptance, and sometimes checked by
    the infirmities of my constitution, I have hitherto neglected
    to mention the affair. However, I now venture to submit it
    to your consideration. To this, or any other more advisable
    method, I should very readily contribute the best of my
    assistance.”

In 1747, Hervey joined himself to a society, whose object was that of
reading together the Old Testament in English, and the New Testament
in Greek. This assembly, which was not to “consist of more than ten or
twelve individuals, lest an increased number should produce confusion
or dissensions,” met on the first Tuesday morning in every month, and,
oddly enough, in different inns, agreed upon, from time to time, by the
majority. Each member was chairman of the meetings, in alphabetical
succession, and read a chapter out of each of the two Testaments, pausing
at the end of every verse for inquiries and reflections. Every one also
was expected to give an account of some religious book, which had been
read by him since the last time of meeting; all dined together, at the
expense of eighteen-pence a head; and each one subscribed half a crown a
month for charitable uses. The meetings, including an hour for dinner,
lasted seven hours in the summer season, and six in winter. Hervey
drew up two beautiful forms of prayer, to be used by the respective
members, before and after they came together. The society was unique,
but useful. None but gentlemen of social position and of good education
were qualified for admission; and it was certainly to the honour of the
neighbourhood in which Hervey lived, that, in that age of fox-hunting,
carousing, and roistering, such an assembly was formed.

Meanwhile, Hervey was busily occupied in completing his “Contemplations
on the Night”; and also in publishing a second edition of the volume
which he had issued in 1746. References to these and other matters will
be found in the following extracts from his letters.

                                    “WESTON-FAVEL, _February, 1747_.

    “DEAR SIR,—I have heard nothing from my printer during all this
    interval. What can be the reason of his long silence and great
    negligence I cannot imagine. But, this week, it occurred to my
    mind, that, if he delays the second edition at this rate, I may
    possibly be able to prepare the third letter[177] to accompany
    it. Accordingly, I have postponed other business, and applied
    myself wholly to this work. I have transcribed some part of the
    intended piece, and sent it for your perusal. Pray be so good
    as to examine it narrowly, and favour me with your remarks and
    improvements, on a separate paper. There are, I fear, besides
    more material faults, several mistakes in the copy, owing to
    my want of leisure to review it. I suppose the remainder of my
    design, when completed, will consist of about the same number
    of pages.

    “If I live till Monday, I propose to visit my patient at the
    infirmary; and, if company happens to be agreeable, will take
    the pleasure of spending an hour with a certain valuable and
    very much esteemed friend at Northampton. If you are not able
    to guess the person I mean, you shall soon be informed by,

                         Dear sir, yours, etc.,

                                                        “J. HERVEY.”

                                    “WESTON-FAVEL, _April 12, 1747_.

    “DEAR SIR,—I have folded down a corner of the leaf at the place
    where your perusal left off. There is a note or two subjoined
    to the preceding pages, which I wish you would please to
    examine. My humble service to Dr. ⸺. I desire He will write his
    remarks and corrections on a separate paper. What think you of
    the following lines for a motto?—

    “‘Night opes the noblest scenes, and sheds an awe,
    Which gives these venerable scenes full weight,
    And deep impression on th’ intender’d heart.’[178]

    “Your plan for forming a Christian society,[179] and regulating
    our interviews, I greatly approve. It seems to me to be
    complete. I heartily wish to have it carried into execution,
    and hope it will be productive of considerable comfort and
    advantage to the members; and not to them only, but, by
    rendering them more useful in their respective stations, to
    many others.

    “I hope you have perused the remainder of the manuscript: and
    cannot but wish you would give the whole a second reading. The
    unknown importance of what we print, inclines me to urge this
    request. Who can tell how long it may continue, and into what
    hands it may come? I almost tremble at such a thought, lest I
    should write unadvisedly with my pen; and injure, instead of
    serve, the best of causes.

    “I shall soon create you a second task, by transmitting for
    your correction, twenty folio pages of the Remarks on the
    Stars, and Serious Improvements,

                             “Yours, etc.,

                                                        “J. HERVEY.”

                                                    “_June 2, 1747._

    “REV. AND DEAR SIR,—My father is wonderfully recovered. Had
    he lived in the times of superstition, for ought I know, his
    uncommon disorder might have been ascribed to witchcraft, and
    his speedy recovery passed current for a miracle. We thought
    him to be on the very brink of death; but now he lives, and
    regains his strength daily. Last Sunday, he read prayers in his
    church; and intends next Sunday to fill the pulpit.

    “I am just now going to our visitation, held at Northampton.
    I shall appear as a stranger in our Jerusalem! knowing few,
    and known by fewer. Methinks, there is something august and
    venerable in a meeting of the clergy; especially if one looks
    upon them as so many agents for the invisible God, and envoys
    from the court of heaven. I hope to be put in mind of that
    awful day, when the Lord Jesus Christ, that great Shepherd of
    the sheep, and Bishop of souls, will make His entrance in the
    clouds of heaven.” Etc.

                                                        “J. HERVEY.”

From the above, it is evident, that, though Hervey had now spent several
years at Weston-Favel, his acquaintance with the clergy of the diocese
was extremely limited. Why was this? Was it because he lived, to a great
extent, the life of a literary recluse? Or was it because he had been a
Methodist? Or was it because of his known friendship with Dr. Doddridge,
the great and good Dissenter of Northampton? Whatever the reason, the
fact existed; and, in this respect, he was in the same position as his
old friends Wesley, Whitefield, and Ingham.

The next extract is valuable, and ought to be seriously considered by all
who are chargeable with the same criminal inadvertencies. It is also a
beautiful instance of Hervey’s extreme delicacy in administering reproof.

                                     “WESTON-FAVEL, _June 27, 1747_.

    “MY DEAR FRIEND,—Was it you, dear sir, or I, that, when
    a certain passage in Scripture happened to be mentioned,
    treated it, not indeed with contemptuous disdain, but, with
    too ludicrous an air? descanted on it, in a sportive and
    frolicsome manner, in order to create a little pleasantry? If
    I was the person that indulged this improper levity, I beseech
    you to rebuke me, and severely too. Though my design might be
    innocent, my conduct was apparently wrong. That infinitely
    precious and important book, should be always held in the
    highest veneration. Whatever the Divine Spirit vouchsafes
    to dictate, should be thought and spoke of by mortals, with
    gratitude, dutifulness, and awe. It is the character of a
    religious man, that, he trembles at God’s Word; and it is said
    of the great Jehovah, that, He has magnified His name and His
    Word above all things.

    “Who was it, dear sir, that lent to our valuable friend, that
    vile book, ‘Le Sopha,’ and yet wrote by Crebillon,[180] with an
    enchanting spirit of elegance, which must render the mischief
    palatable, and the bane even delicious? I wonder, that, your
    kind and benevolent heart could recommend arsenic for a
    regale. It puts me in mind of the empoisoned shirt presented
    to Hercules. I am sure, you did not think on it, or else you
    would no more have transmitted such a pestilent treatise to the
    perusal of a friend, than you would transmit to him a packet
    of goods from a country depopulated by the plague. If that
    polluting French book still remains in your study, let me beg
    of you to make it perform quarantine in the flames.

    “Dear sir, bestow a thought on these things. If the
    remonstrances are wrong, I willingly retract them; if right,
    you will not pronounce me impertinent. Love and friendship
    dictate what I write; and the only end I have in view, is the
    holiness, the usefulness, the happiness, the final salvation of
    my much esteemed friend.”

In July, 1747, Hervey completed his “Contemplations on the Night,” which
he dedicated to the youthful son of his deceased friend, Mr. Orchard, of
Stoke Abbey. He was also diligently occupied in the preparation of his
“Contemplations on the Starry Heavens,” and his “Winter Piece”; hence the
following, from a letter by Dr. Doddridge, dated,

                                                    “_July 6, 1747_.

    “I have just been writing to my good friend, Mr. Hervey; whose
    manuscript on The Stars, I have reviewed with pleasure. I hope
    it will be means of raising the hearts of many _above_ the
    stars; and of fixing them on Him, who is, so much more than
    anything material, ‘The bright and morning Star.’ I see, in
    Mr. Hervey, an example of diligence, humility, candour, and
    universal goodness, which I am sure ought to keep _me_ humble,
    and, I hope, in some measure, does so.”[181]

The next, which appears to have been sent to some friend in the
neighbourhood of Stoke Abbey, refers to the same subject; and also shows,
that the state of Hervey’s health was becoming serious:—

                                    “WESTON-FAVEL, _August 8, 1747_.

    “DEAREST MR. ⸺,—”I ought to take shame to myself, for suffering
    so kind a letter, received from so valuable a friend, to remain
    so long unanswered. Upon no other consideration than that of my
    enfeebled and languishing constitution, can I excuse myself,
    or hope for your pardon. My health is continually upon the
    decline, and the springs of life are all relaxing. Medicine
    is baffled, and my physician, Dr. Stonehouse, who is a dear
    friend to his patient, and a lover of the Lord Jesus, pities,
    but cannot succour me. This blessing, however, together with a
    multitude of others, the Divine goodness vouchsafes, to gild
    the gloom of decaying nature, that, I am racked with no pain,
    and enjoy the free, undisturbed exercise of my understanding.

    “I am much obliged to you for carrying my message to Stoke
    Abbey, with so much speed, and conveying to me, with equal
    despatch, a satisfactory answer. When you visit the worthy
    family again, be pleased to inform Mr. Orchard, that the
    piece is sent to the press, and, after some corrections made
    in the dedication, addressed to my godson.[182] It is my
    humble request to him, and my earnest prayer to God, that,
    he may regard it, not merely as a complimentary form, but
    as the serious and pathetic advice of his father’s intimate
    acquaintance, and his soul’s sincere friend; who, in all
    probability, will be cut off from every other opportunity of
    fulfilling his sacred engagements, and admonishing him of
    whatever a Christian ought to know and believe to his soul’s
    health.

    “I forget whether I told you, that, the last work will be
    divided into two parts; will be full as large as the first two
    letters; and, therefore, the whole will be disposed into two
    small pocket volumes, on a very neat paper, with an elegant
    type, in duodecimo. But a convenient number of the new essays
    will be printed in the octavo size and character, for the
    satisfaction of those who purchased the former edition, and
    may possibly be willing to complete their book. It was a
    considerable time before I could think of a title for the last
    pieces, that suited their nature, and expressed their design.
    At length, I have determined to style them, ‘Contemplations on
    the Night,’ and ‘Contemplations on the Starry Heavens.’

    “Now I apprehend myself to be so near the close of life, with
    eternity full in my view, perhaps, my dear friend would be glad
    to know my sentiments of things in this awful situation.

    “I think, then, dear sir, that, we are extremely mistaken,
    and sustain a mighty loss in our most important interests,
    by reading so much, and praying so little. I think also, we
    fail in our duty, and thwart our comfort, by studying God’s
    Holy Word no more. I have, for my part, been too fond of
    reading everything elegant and valuable, that has been penned
    in our own language; and been particularly charmed with the
    historians, orators, and poets of antiquity. But were I to
    renew my studies, I would take my leave of these accomplished
    trifles. I would resign the delights of modern wit, amusement,
    and eloquence, and devote my attention to the Scriptures of
    truth. I would adopt the Apostles’ resolution, and give myself
    to prayer and to the Word.

    “With regard to my public ministry, my chief aim should
    be, to beget in my people’s minds a deep sense of their
    depraved, guilty, undone, condition; and a clear believing
    conviction of the all-sufficiency of Christ, by His blood, His
    righteousness, His intercession, and His Spirit, to save them
    to the uttermost. I would always observe, to labour for them
    in my closet, as well as in the pulpit; and wrestle in secret
    supplication for their spiritual and eternal welfare. For,
    unless God take this work into His own hand, what mortal is
    sufficient for these things?

    “My hope, my whole hope, with regard to my future and immortal
    state, is in the Lord Redeemer. Jesus is all my trust His
    merits are my staff, when I pass through the valley of the
    shadow of death. His merits are my anchor, when I launch into
    the boundless ocean of eternity.

    “Though the days are come upon me, in which I have reason to
    say of worldly things, I have no pleasure in them; yet, I find
    a secret satisfaction in this consideration, that, to you and
    to others, I may be permitted, even when dead, to speak in my
    little treatises. May they, when the author is gone hence,
    testify, with some small degree of efficacy, concerning Jesus!
    May they fan the flame of love to His person, and strengthen
    the principle of faith in His merits! Once more, dear sir,
    adieu!

                                                        “J. HERVEY.”

Hervey was afflicted in person; he was also afflicted in the sufferings
of his friends. Hence the following, written in the month of December,
1747.

    “Your last found me on the recovering hand, getting strength
    and spirits, though by slow degrees. Soon after I received
    your favour, a messenger came from London, bringing us the
    alarming news, that my youngest brother was extremely ill.
    My father’s bowels yearned, and his heart bled; but the
    infirmities of age, and an unwieldy constitution, hindered
    him from taking the journey. Upon me, therefore, the office
    fell. Feeble and languid as I was, there was no rejecting
    such a call. Accordingly, I took coach, and, in two days,
    arrived safe in London, where I found my poor brother (the
    packer) seized with a most violent fever. He was attended by
    two eminent physicians; but they proved vain helpers. For a
    considerable time, his stout constitution struggled with the
    disease; but, at last, was forced to yield. After attending
    his sick-bed for several days, I had the melancholy task of
    closing his dear eyes, and resigning him up to death. Oh, the
    uncertainty of mortal things! Who could have thought that I
    should survive my brother? I, sickly and enervated; he, always
    lively and vigorous. In flourishing circumstances, and blessed
    with prosperity in his business; but now removed to the dark,
    inactive, silent tomb! Lately married to a beautiful and
    blooming bride, but now a companion for creeping things!

    “Scarce was I returned to Weston, but another awful Providence
    fetched me from home. My very worthy physician, Dr. Stonehouse,
    who lives and practises in Northampton, had the misfortune to
    lose an amiable and excellent wife. She also was snatched away
    in the morning of life (aged twenty-five), and dead before I
    so much as heard of her being disordered. At this valuable
    friend’s house, I was desired to abide some time, in order
    to assist in writing letters for him, and dispatching his
    necessary affairs; in comforting him concerning the deceased,
    and in endeavouring to improve the awakening visitation to our
    mutual good.[183]

    “You will surely say, when you read this account, that, I have
    been in deaths oft: once upon the borders of it myself, and
    more than once a spectator of its victory over others.

    “The ‘Contemplations,’ you are pleased to inquire after, are,
    after long delays, or a very slow procedure of the press,
    launched into the world. What may be their fate, I dare not
    conjecture.

                                                        “J. HERVEY.”

Two more letters, belonging to the year 1747, must be added.

The venerable Dr. Watts, in 1746, had published his speculative and
dangerous book, entitled, “The Glory of Christ as God-Man Displayed,”
and had presented Hervey with a copy. He was now in the last year of his
life, and died November 25, 1748. Hervey wrote to him as follows:—

                                 “WESTON-FAVEL, _December 10, 1747_.

    “REV. AND DEAR SIR,—Pardon me if I take leave to interrupt your
    important studies for the good of mankind, or suspend for one
    moment your delightful communion with the blessed God. I cannot
    excuse myself without expressing my gratitude for the present,
    by your order, lately transmitted from your bookseller, which I
    shall always value, not only for its instructive contents, but,
    in a very peculiar manner, for the sake of the author and giver.

    “To tell you, worthy doctor, that your works have long been
    my delight and study, the favourite pattern by which I would
    form my conduct and model my style, would be only to echo back,
    in the faintest accents, what sounds in the general voice of
    the nation. Among other of your edifying compositions, I have
    reason to thank you for your ‘Sacred Songs,’ which I have
    introduced into the service of my church; so that, in the
    solemnities of the Sabbath and in a lecture on the week-day,
    your muse lights up the incense of our praise, and furnishes
    our devotions with harmony.

    “Our excellent friend, Dr. Doddridge, informs me of the infirm
    condition of your health; for which reason, I humbly beseech
    the Father of spirits, and the God of our life, to renew your
    strength as the eagle’s, and to recruit a lamp that has shone
    with distinguished lustre in His sanctuary: or, if this may not
    consist with the counsels of unerring wisdom, to make all your
    bed in your languishing, softly to untie the cords of animal
    existence, and enable your dislodging soul to pass triumphantly
    through the valley of death, leaning on your beloved Jesus,
    and rejoicing in the greatness of His salvation.

    “You have a multitude of names to bear on your breast, and
    mention with your lips, when you approach the throne of grace
    in the beneficent exercise of intercession; but none, I am
    sure, has more need of such an interest in your supplications,
    none can more highly esteem it, or more earnestly desire it,
    than, dear sir, your obliged and affectionate humble servant,

                                                “JAMES HERVEY.”[184]

It is a curious fact, that, Hervey possessed and cherished the friendship
of the two greatest Dissenters of the age, Doctor Doddridge and Dr.
Watts; and, that, the hymns of the latter, even in his lifetime, were
sung in the service of an established church.

For eight years, Wesley had been an itinerant preacher, and had
encountered an unparalleled amount of violent opposition. There had been
a temporary estrangement between him and Whitefield, on Calvinistic
doctrines; but the two were now as warmly attached to each other as ever.
Methodism, meanwhile, had been established in all directions; and, in
this very year, 1747, had been introduced into Ireland. Brutal were the
persecutions from which the poor Methodists still had to suffer; but
their truth was mighty and triumphant. Hervey had taken no part in the
great movement of the Wesleys and Whitefield; but he had not opposed it.
Indeed, it had his sympathy and prayers. His old friends occupied one
sphere of Christian usefulness; he, according to his ability, occupied
another. Hence the following, addressed to Wesley:—

                     “WESTON, NEAR NORTHAMPTON, _December 30, 1747_.

    “DEAR SIR,—With pleasure I received, and with gratitude
    acknowledge, the favour of your two letters. That which bears
    the date of November 21, I should have answered long ago, had I
    not been retarded by the following reason:

    “I was desirous to give a proof of my love for your person and
    of my reverence for your conduct, somewhat more substantial
    than the bare profession of my pen. My bookseller is, this
    week, to pay a sum of money for a second impression of my
    two little pieces of devotional meditation, which I lately
    ventured to publish, and which God has vouchsafed to honour
    with acceptance. This is to be received by my brother, in
    Miles’s Lane, at whose house, if you please to call, he will,
    in my name, present you with five guineas, which I beg of you
    to accept, as a token of that affectionate and grateful esteem
    which I bear to my ever-valued friend; and distribute among the
    indigent or distressed members of that Divine Benefactor, who
    died for us both.[185]

    “Assure yourself, dear sir, that I can never forget that
    tender-hearted and generous Fellow of Lincoln, who condescended
    to take such compassionate notice of a poor undergraduate, whom
    almost everybody condemned, and for whose soul no man cared.

    “If you ask, Why I have withdrawn into a corner, and lain hid
    in obscurity, while God seems to be shaking the heavens and the
    earth, and to be doing His work, His great and glorious work,
    of bringing sinners to Christ, as the doves to their windows? I
    will tell you freely. It is because of an infirm constitution,
    a languid flow of spirits, and an enervated state of body,
    which render even that small share of business, which lies
    within my narrow sphere, too often burdensome to me, and but
    very poorly performed by me.

    “As for points of doubtful disputation,—those especially which
    relate to _particular_ or _universal_ redemption,—I profess
    myself attached neither to the one nor the other. I neither
    think of them myself, nor preach of them to others. If they
    happen to be started in conversation, I always endeavour to
    divert the discourse to some more edifying topic. I have often
    observed them to breed animosity and division, but never knew
    them to be productive of love and unanimity. I have further
    remarked, that, in forming their sentiments on these doctrines,
    persons may be diametrically opposite, and yet be high in the
    favour of God, and eminently owned by Him in their ministry.
    Therefore, I rest satisfied in this general and indisputable
    truth, that, the Judge of all the earth will assuredly do
    right; and whosoever cometh to Him, under the gracious
    character of a Saviour, will in no wise be cast out.

    “I embrace—readily embrace—your offer. Let me ever be reckoned
    in the number of your friends, and often remembered in the
    earnestness of your prayers. Though it is your distinguished
    province, to lift your voice on high, and make the world
    resound with the Redeemer’s name; though my employ is to catch
    the pleasing accents, and echo, or rather whisper, them among a
    little circle of acquaintance, yet, I hope, we may be united in
    the same cordial affection here, and united in the same kingdom
    of our common Master hereafter.

    “Your correspondence will be greatly esteemed, and, I hope,
    will prove a blessing to, dear sir, your very unworthy, but
    truly affectionate brother and servant,

                                                   “J. HERVEY.”[186]

Affliction was still the heritage of Hervey; but, in the midst of
all, his full heart overflowed with pure benevolence, and his pen was
not unemployed. Having completed his “Contemplations,” he now devoted
what health he had to the revision and enlargement of his “Descant on
Creation.” The following are extracts from letters written in the months
of March and April, 1748.

    “If you have not so much as you wish to relieve the necessities
    of the poor, distribute from my stock. I am cloistered up
    in my chamber, and unacquainted with the distresses of my
    brethren. Lend me, therefore, your eyes to discover proper
    objects, and your hand to deal about my little fund for
    charity. Do not forbid me to send a guinea in my next for this
    purpose. Do not deny me the pleasure of becoming, through your
    means, an instrument of some little comfort to my afflicted
    fellow-creatures.

    “Herewith comes the ‘Descant’ enlarged. I hope you will be able
    to read it, and not a little to improve it. Can you engage Dr.
    ⸺ to run it over? I must write it over again, so fear not to
    erase and blot.

    “A letter from my father is enough to cast contempt on created
    things. It informs me, that, my poor sister is reduced very
    low, so low that my father cannot hear her speak. He seems to
    look upon her life to be in very great danger. May the Father
    of compassion restore her health, that she may live to the
    honour of her dying Master, and be a comfort to her afflicted
    parents!”

For months after this, Hervey’s health was very feeble, but his soul as
large as ever; hence the following:—

                                      WESTON-FAVEL, _Aug. 18, 1748_.

    “MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—I received your letter, full of
    tenderness, and full of piety, last night. The very first
    thing I apply myself to this morning, is to acknowledge your
    favour, and confess my own negligence. But your affectionate
    heart will pity rather than blame me, when I inform you, that,
    a relapse into the disorder, of which I was never thoroughly
    cured, has brought me very low, insomuch that I am unable
    either to discharge the duties of life, or to answer the
    demands of friendship. I have not been capable of preaching for
    several Sundays. Pyrmont water, ass’s milk, and such kind of
    restoratives I try, but try in vain.

    “You are not ignorant of my sentiment with regard to our
    Dissenting brethren. Are we not all devoted to the same supreme
    Lord? Do we not all rely on the merits of the same glorious
    Redeemer? By professing the same faith, the same doctrine
    which is according to godliness, we are incorporated into the
    same mystical body. And how strange, how unnatural it would
    be, if the head should be averse to the breast, or the hands
    inveterately prejudiced against the feet, only because the one
    is habited somewhat differently from the other? Though I am
    steady in my attachment to the Established Church, I would have
    a right hand of fellowship, and a heart of love, ever ready,
    ever open for all the upright, evangelical Dissenters.”

To a great extent, Hervey was now an invalid. Sometimes he catechised
the children on the Apostles’ Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Ten
Commandments; but confesses his want of aptitude for this, and that he
rarely did it so as to satisfy himself. His public work, however, was
extremely limited. By preaching, he could do but little; but, by his
treatises, he was reaching the hearts and consciences of thousands who
never heard his voice. In 1749, a sixth edition of his “Meditations and
Contemplations,” in two volumes,[187] was published; and Whitefield wrote
as follows:—[188]

    “July 10, 1749. Your sentiments concerning Mr. Hervey’s book
    are very just. It has gone through six editions. The author
    of it is my old friend, a most heavenly-minded creature, one
    of the first of the Methodists, who is contented with a small
    cure, and gives all that he has to the poor. He is very weak,
    and daily waits for his dissolution. We correspond with, though
    we cannot see, one another. We shall, ere long, meet in heaven.”

In another letter, to Hervey himself, Whitefield says:—

    “Blessed be God, for causing you to write so as to suit the
    taste of the polite world! O that they may be won over to
    admire Him, who is indeed altogether lovely! O when shall we
    get within the veil! Thanks be to God, it cannot be long.
    We are both sickly. Lord, give us patience to wait till our
    blessed change come!”

On November 8, 1749, Whitefield wrote:—

    “Your present circumstances almost distress me. I think it
    requires more grace heartily to say, ‘Father, Thy will be
    done,’ in such a situation, than to die a martyr forty times.
    But, my dear friend, though your body is weak and confined at
    home, your pen hath been active, and your works walk abroad.
    I hear of them from all quarters. God hath blessed, and will
    bless them. Let that comfort you, and, if health any way
    permits, pray write again. Fear not, my dear, dear man; let
    faith and patience hold out a little longer, and then the
    struggle shall be over. Yet a little while, and you shall
    join with that sweet singer, Dr. Watts, who, whilst on earth,
    dragged a crazy load along, as well as you, for many years. I
    am now at Ashby, with good Lady Huntingdon. Her ladyship has a
    great regard for you, and begs you would come and stay a week
    at her house. She will take great care of you.”

Hervey was ill, and the warm-hearted Whitefield never loved him so
much as now. Hitherto, Lady Huntingdon had not corresponded with
Hervey, though she had long entertained a great regard for him. One
or two letters had passed between them, but no regular correspondence
took place till the beginning of the year 1750. Again and again, had
Whitefield conveyed her ladyship’s request that he would write to her;
and, at length, on February 2, 1750, Hervey yielded, and commenced a
correspondence, which was continued, without interruption, until his
death. Whitefield was delighted, and wrote:—“I am glad you have opened a
correspondence with our elect lady. Keep it open, I entreat you, my dear
friend.”

An extract from another letter, by Whitefield, will be welcome:—

                                         “PLYMOUTH, _Feb. 25, 1750_.

    “REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—Your letters always fill me with
    sympathy. Your last I have just been reading, and in reading
    breathed out the ejaculation, ‘Lord, when will the days of his
    mourning be ended?’ Surely, you are not always thus to stick
    fast in the mire and clay. Look up then, my dear Mr. Hervey;
    you shall find grace to help in time of need.

    “‘Leave to His sovereign sway,
      To choose and to command;
    So shalt thou, wondering, own His way,
      How wise, how strong His hand.
      Far, far above thy thought
      His counsel shall appear,
    When fully He the work hath wrought,
      That caused Thy needless fear.’

    “This is the advice I give you, I sent your hymn to good Lady
    Huntingdon, who has been ill, but is now, I hope, recovered.
    Pray write to me often. Sorrows grow less, joys grow greater,
    by being communicated. Load me as much as you will with all
    your grievances, and I will lay them before Him, who came to
    bear our sicknesses and heal our infirmities.”

Two months later Whitefield wrote again:—

                                      “PORTSMOUTH, _April 28, 1750_.

    “MY VERY DEAR FRIEND AND BROTHER,—Your letter should have had
    an immediate answer, if the least leisure had offered when in
    town. But there I am continually hurried, and had scarce time
    to eat bread. However, our Lord gave me meat which the world
    knows not of, and enabled me to preach three or four times a
    day to great multitudes, and, I trust, with great blessings.

    “Fear not your weak body. We are immortal till our work is
    done. Christ’s labourers must live by miracle; if not, I must
    not live at all; for God only knows what I daily endure. My
    continual vomitings almost kill me, and yet the pulpit is my
    cure. I speak this to encourage you. Persons whose writings
    are to be blessings must have some thorns in the flesh. Your
    disorders, like mine, I believe, are, as yet, only to humble,
    not to kill us. Though I long to go to heaven, yet I am apt to
    think we are not to die presently, but live and declare the
    works of the Lord—you by your pen; I by my tongue. Courage, my
    dear, very dear Mr. Hervey; courage! When we are weak, then are
    we strong.

    “But to your letter. How shall we contrive to meet? I purpose
    being at Olney next Sunday seven-night, and in a day or two
    after at Northampton. I wish I could have a line from you. Your
    (Meditations) are now printing at Philadelphia. Why do you not
    sit for your picture? The Lord be with you. I love you most
    tenderly. I thank you ten thousand times for all favours, and
    am, very dear friend, yours most affectionately, and eternally,
    in our Lord Jesus,

                                                    “G. WHITEFIELD.”

The programme was carried out; and the old friends met. Whitefield
writes:—

                                            “ASHLEY, _May 11, 1750_.

    “I preached last Lord’s-day at Olney.[189] We had two sweet
    seasons. A great multitude attended. On the Monday, about six
    miles from Northampton, I had a private interview with Dr.
    Stonehouse, Dr. Doddridge, Messrs. Hervey and Hartley. On the
    Tuesday, I preached, in the morning, to Dr. Doddridge’s family,
    and, in the afternoon, to about two thousand in the field.
    Dr. Stonehouse, Mr. Hervey, etc., attended me, and walked
    with me along the street; so that, I hope, the physician will
    now turn his back upon the world. I expounded at his house in
    the evening, and am, hereafter, to come to it as my own. On
    Tuesday, I preached twice at Kettering to several thousands.
    On Wednesday, I came hither, and found good Lady Huntingdon,
    though very weak, yet, better than I expected.”

Concerning this visit by the great evangelist, Hervey wrote:—

                                            “WESTON, _May 12, 1750_.

    “This week, we had another visit by that indefatigable preacher
    of the everlasting gospel, Mr. Whitefield. He delivered his
    message under the canopy of the skies, and in the midst of a
    numerous and attentive audience. Dr. Doddridge, Dr. Stonehouse,
    another doctor of physic, Mr. Hartley, a worthy clergyman, and
    myself, were on his right hand, and on his left. His text was,
    ‘Ye are the temples of the living God.’ He showed himself a
    workman that need not be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of
    truth. He dealt out to saints and sinners their portion in due
    season. All the hearers hung on his lips, and many were visibly
    impressed by the power of his doctrine. I hope, I am the only
    one who suffered by attending. I was obliged, as soon as the
    sacred service was over, to lie upon the bed for a little
    refreshment, and took such a cold as I have not yet got rid of.

    “I dined, supped, and spent the evening with Mr. Whitefield,
    at Northampton, in company with Dr. Doddridge, and two pious,
    ingenious clergymen of the Church of England. And, surely, I
    never spent a more delightful evening, or saw one who seemed to
    make nearer approaches to the felicity of heaven. A gentleman
    of great worth and rank in the town invited us to his house,
    and gave us an elegant treat; but how mean was his provision,
    how coarse his delicacies, compared with the fruit of my
    friend’s lips! They dropped as the honey-comb, and were a well
    of life. Surely, people do not know that amiable and exemplary
    man; or else, I cannot but think, instead of depreciating,
    they would applaud and love him. For my part, I never beheld
    so fair a copy of our Lord,—such a living image of the
    Saviour,—such exalted delight in God,—such enlarged benevolence
    to man,—such a steady faith in the Divine promises,—and such
    a fervent zeal for the Divine glory; and all this without the
    least moroseness of humour, or extravagances of behaviour;
    sweetened with the most engaging cheerfulness of temper,
    and regulated by all the sobriety of reason, and wisdom of
    Scripture; insomuch, that I cannot forbear applying the wise
    man’s encomium of an illustrious woman to this eminent minister
    of Christ, ‘Many sons have done virtuously, but thou excellest
    them all.’”

A few weeks after this, Hervey was prevailed on, by the repeated
importunity of Whitefield and Lady Huntingdon, to visit London, for the
benefit of his enfeebled health.[190] He arrived in June, 1750, and
remained until the death of his father, in May, 1752. One of the winters
was spent in the house of Whitefield; and, for some time, he lodged
with his brother William, in Miles Lane. By means of Lady Huntingdon,
he became acquainted with Lady Gertrude Hotham, Lady Chesterfield, the
Countess Delitz, Lady Fanny Shirley, and many other distinguished and
pious persons. Here he met with Charles Wesley; was visited by Dr. Gill,
Mr. Cudworth, and John Cennick; and, for the first time, heard Romaine.
Here, also, he enlarged and corrected his ‘Meditations,’ composed his
‘Remarks on Bolingbroke’s Letters,’ and wrote part of his ‘Theron and
Aspasio.’ He could rarely attempt to preach; but his time was fully
occupied. How his two years in London were employed will be best
exhibited by extracts from his voluminous correspondence.

At the time of Hervey’s arrival in the metropolis, Whitefield was in the
north of England, and the two friends did not again see each other till
about the beginning of September.

                                              “_September 11, 1750._

    “MY DEAR FRIEND,—Thanks for your subscription; I have procured
    more of another friend. I shall soon be a poor man, here are so
    many necessitous objects. And who can bear to be in affluence,
    while so many fellow-creatures are in deplorable want?

    “This night, dear Mr. Whitefield is with us, returned from his
    expedition, full of life, and rich with spoils,—spoils won from
    the kingdom of darkness, and consecrated to the Captain of our
    salvation.

    “I have been prevailed upon to sit for my picture. If ever
    portrait was the shadow of a shadow, mine is such. Oh, that I
    may be renewed after the image of the blessed Jesus! When I
    awake up after His likeness, I shall be satisfied with it.”

Three days after this, Hervey, Whitefield, and Charles Wesley,—a happy
trio,—met at Whitefield’s house. C. Wesley writes:—“1750. September 14. I
met James Hervey at the Tabernacle, and in the fellowship of the spirit
of love;”[191] and, on the same day, Whitefield, as follows:—

    “At my return to town, I was received, though utterly unworthy,
    with great joy; and our Lord has manifested forth His glory in
    the great congregation. I have preached in Mr. Wesley’s chapel
    several times; and I trust, a young lady of high rank was truly
    awakened about a fortnight ago, and is since gone triumphantly
    to heaven. Mr. Charles Wesley breakfasted and prayed with
    me this morning, and Mr. Hervey was so kind as to come up
    to be with me in my house. He is a dear man, and, I trust,
    will yet be spared to write much for the Redeemer’s glory. I
    have prevailed on him to sit for his picture, and it will be
    published in a short time.”[192]

The young lady referred to in this extract, was the daughter of Lady
Gertrude Hotham. Hervey had frequently visited her in her last sickness,
and, on one occasion, had administered to her the Lord’s supper. Hence
the following to the Countess of Huntingdon:—

    “I had the pleasure of perusing your ladyship’s letter to
    Mr. Whitefield, and return my grateful acknowledgments for
    your condescension in inquiring after me. My kind patroness,
    Lady Chesterfield, and many honourable persons, whose names,
    I trust, are written in the book of life, are very desirous
    for your ladyship’s return to the great city. I have lately
    expounded, and administered the ordinance, at good Lady
    Gertrude Hotham’s. Her daughter is ripening fast for glory.
    I had but little conversation with her, for she is too weak
    to endure much fatigue. When speaking of God’s stupendous
    love, in giving His only Son for our salvation, and of our
    interest in the all-sufficient propitiation of His death, I
    quoted these portions of Scripture.—‘He came into the world
    to save sinners;’ ‘He poured out His soul for transgressors.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Miss Hotham, who had been listening with singular
    attention; ‘He died, the just for the unjust; He suffered death
    upon the cross, that we might reign with Him in glory.’ On
    a subsequent visit, I found her much altered for the worse,
    as respected her bodily health. Mr. Whitefield had been to
    see her the preceding day, and has since gone to erect the
    joyful standard at Portsmouth. Blessed be God, she enjoyed
    much peace and tranquillity of mind, and a firm persuasion,
    that God was her reconciled Father, and the blessed Redeemer
    her all-sufficient portion. I expect to hear every day of her
    abundant entrance into the joy of her Lord. Good Lady Gertrude,
    and all her noble relatives and friends, are wonderfully
    supported in this trying affair.”

Hervey was already employed in writing another book. He was slowly dying,
but to be idle was impossible. Hence, the following:—

                                               “_December 20, 1750._

    “MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—Your letter found me, after a
    considerable delay in its passage, where do you think? Where I
    never expected to go any more,—found me at London! Prevailed
    on by the repeated importunity of my friends, I came by easy
    stages to town, in order to try whether change of air may
    be of any service to my decayed constitution: for my worthy
    physician, Dr. Stonehouse, has declared that nothing which he
    can prescribe, is likely to administer any relief.

    “You inquire about my new work, intended for the press. It is
    a great uncertainty whether my languid spirits and enfeebled
    constitution will permit me to execute my design. It is a
    pleasure, however, to hear that I am sometimes admitted to
    converse with you by my book.”

The sale of the works which Hervey had already published was
extraordinary. The ensuing letter to his father is evidence of this, and
also unfolds a feature of Hervey’s domestic character not heretofore
noticed.

                                        “LONDON, _January 23, 1751_.

    “HONOURED SIR—Mr. Rivington has advertised the next edition of
    my books, and has fixed upon the 31st for publication. Then
    there will be five thousand volumes ready for sale. Oh may
    they be five thousand trumpets to proclaim far and near the
    glories of Him, who died for our sins, and rose again for our
    justification!

    “If you inquire about my picture, Mr. Willis will be so kind as
    to inform you. I am quite tired of sitting to the painters.

    “If mother and you think Mr. Thayer would accept a couple of
    gallons of rum, brandy, or shrub, I would very gladly make him
    a present; and, when my mother’s stock of shrub is out, she may
    command a fresh supply from your and her dutiful son,

                                                     “JAMES HERVEY.”

When Hervey first came to London, he had no intention of staying the
length of time he did. On September 11, 1750, in a letter to his father,
he wrote:—

    “I have entertained thoughts of returning home very soon;
    but, if you choose that I should stay and make trial a little
    longer, I should be glad to have my MSS. here. Some of them,
    I think, lie on the chair at the right hand of my desk. There
    are others, but I forget where they are laid. If my sister
    can find any, containing dialogues or letters between Theron,
    and Aspasio, I desire she will pack them up, and send them
    carefully by coach.”

During the whole of the year 1751, Hervey continued in the same
debilitated state. It was now, that, he began his long series of
letters to Lady Frances Shirley, one hundred and eighteen of which were
subsequently published by her ladyship’s executors. Early in the year,
he tells his noble correspondent, that, he had put on his “coat but
once during all the winter,” and, even then, he “returned home with a
cold, and was obliged to take to his bed.” There is something painfully
affecting in extracts like the following:—

    “Should I attempt to speak roundly to Mr. ⸺, my cheeks, pale as
    they are, would be encrimsoned. Instead of working conviction
    in a brother, I should suffer disorder in myself. So tender are
    my spirits! As, I am sure, your ladyship must perceive, by a
    certain confusedness and precipitancy in my behaviour; quite
    contrary to that ease and serenity which every one must observe
    in your ladyship. I know not how it is, but I cannot, either
    by the exercise of my reason, or even by an advertence to God,
    rectify this weakness. I trouble you with this complaint, only
    with a view of demonstrating that nothing considerable can be
    expected from a person, to whom ‘the grasshopper is a burden.’”

    Again,—“_April 14, 1751_. My health is so very precarious, and
    my constitution so enervated, that, I scarce ever am able,
    and am always unfit, to wait upon your ladyship. I have often
    found pleasure in visiting the poor tenants of the meanest
    hut, where I had an opportunity of talking on heavenly things.
    How much more should I be delighted, in an admission to your
    ladyship’s company, where I should hear the same favourite
    topics discoursed on, with all the refinements of politeness
    and superior sense! But extreme weakness, and great languor,
    disqualify me for the enjoyment of this satisfaction.”

    Again,—“My poor heart, that is naturally fond of activity, and
    would fain exert itself for the blessed Redeemer’s glory,—that
    is peculiarly charmed with the works of creation, and knows no
    higher entertainment than a contemplative rural excursion,—is
    sometimes apt to repine at being cut off from its favourite
    gratifications. But I desire to check such unsubmissive
    emotions; and rest satisfied, that, whatever the all-gracious
    God ordains, is incomparably better than I could choose for
    myself. Let the voice of murmuring, therefore, be entirely
    suppressed. Let the praises of God be upon my tongue, and let
    all that is within me bless His holy name.”

    Again,—“_September 23, 1751_. Though my hand is able to hold a
    pen, my feet are not able to carry me across the room, without
    some borrowed support. I have been extremely ill: hovering upon
    the very brink of eternity. The doctor was twice sent for, by a
    special messenger, from an apprehension, that, my dissolution
    was approaching. You will probably be desirous to know how my
    mind was affected, amidst such circumstances of peril and pain.
    I humbly bless the Divine goodness, I was under no terrifying
    fears with regard to death. It was desirable, rather than
    dreadful; the thing I longed for, rather than deprecated. You
    are pleased to ask, What I am going to publish? I was writing a
    little Treatise[193] upon some of the most important doctrines
    of Christianity: to be disposed partly into dialogues, partly
    into letters; and rendered entertaining by several descriptive
    pictures in nature and its ever-pleasing scenes. I have
    sketched out the greatest part, in a rough un-connected manner;
    but a considerable time will be requisite, to dispose it
    properly, and polish it for the nice taste of the present age.
    This time, whether it will please the Sovereign Disposer of
    all things to allow; or whether my constitution, always very
    inferior, but now more exceedingly enervated, will yield a
    sufficient supply of animal strength,—is a great uncertainty.
    But of this, my lady, we are absolutely certain, that, whatever
    is ordered, by unerring wisdom and infinite mercy, must be
    good,—must be best.”

One cannot but experience a feeling of surprise, that, a man in such
physical debility was able to evince such activity of mind. Hervey could
not be idle. To have been totally unemployed would not have retarded,
but probably have hastened his decease. To some men, at least, a certain
amount of work is a solace. It braces the mind; and enables the sufferer
to better bear the afflictions of the body. So it was with Hervey. In
the house of his brother, he had a comfortable home; and his father and
friends were able and willing to afford him all the help he needed. No
man was more free from the love of money. His wants were few, and his
earthly longings were quite as limited. He had no need to work; but
work was what he liked. His brain teemed with thought; and it was no
inconsiderable relief to put some of his conceptions and conceits on
paper. Besides, as he himself was wont to solicit the critical kindness
of his friends, in the revision of his writings; so he sometimes rendered
the same assistance to others. The following was written to the Rev. Mr.
Pearsall, of Taunton, and is somewhat amusing as coming from one of the
most florid writers of the period,—

                                                    “_May 29, 1751._

    “REV. AND DEAR SIR,—Give me leave to return my best thanks for
    your obliging letters and very valuable manuscripts: those,
    I mean, which you were so kind as to transmit for my use. I
    look upon them as a detachment of auxiliary forces, seconding
    and supporting a feeble attempt to oppose the enemies, and to
    spread the conquests, of _Free Grace_. I wish they had fallen
    into abler hands: for mine, weak, always weak by nature, are
    now enervated to the last degree by sickness. For several
    hours, I have been unable to take up my pen; and could only
    endeavour, by resting myself in some easy posture, to sustain a
    being, whose _strength is become labour and sorrow_.

    “I now return, after a long delay, your truly pleasing and
    profitable letters. I have read them with singular pleasure;
    and, I hope, with some improvement. Many parts I perused
    several times; and the warm piety, garnished by an elegant
    fancy, made them as delightful as if they were new. I cannot
    pretend to the merit of doing your compositions any service;
    unless it be in this one circumstance, that, I have detained
    them from you for a considerable time; by which means, they
    will be, in a manner, new to your own eye: and you will be much
    more capable of judging maturely, concerning each sentiment,
    and every expression.

    “One thing, in general, let me remark: That, my worthy friend’s
    genius is too rich; his invention quite luxuriant. He must use
    the pruning knife, and cut off several of the shoots. Yes,
    though they are perfectly beautiful, they must be sacrificed;
    that, the fruit may acquire the finer flavour. There is a
    certain prettiness in some periods, that betrays us all into an
    ill-judged redundancy; which, though its neatness should secure
    it from being tiresome, yet, weakens the force of the principal
    thought.

    “I wish you would introduce some suitable _descriptions_ to
    beautify the last letters. As they all turn upon the same
    subject, and have no pieces of entertaining _scenery_ to
    enliven them, I fear, they will read a little flat and heavy;
    especially when compared with the preceding ornamented pages.

    “A few alterations I have proposed, and only proposed. Admit,
    or reject them, as shall appear, on your own examination,
    most expedient. Don’t, dear sir, be _hasty_ in publication.
    Compositions, that would spread far and continue long, in an
    age of so much refinement, should be touched and re-touched.

    “I remain, dear sir, your obliged friend, and affectionate
    brother,

                                                “JAMES HERVEY.”[194]

The sick man used his utmost endeavours to be useful. Writing to another
friend, towards the close of the year 1751, he says,—

    “If I mistake not, you are a subscribing member of the Society
    for Promoting Christian Knowledge. Will you be so kind as to
    procure for me a dozen Bibles, and a dozen of the Bishop of Man
    on the Lord’s Supper. I give away this to communicants, because
    it has the Communion Service in it; and because it is more
    evangelical, and less exceptionable than the generality of what
    are called preparations for, or companions at, the Sacrament.
    Too many of these books, by long prayers for each day of the
    week, and by injudicious representations, have sometimes, I
    fear, the contrary effect to what is intended. I had once a
    design, nor have I wholly laid it aside, of extracting from
    “Jenks’ Office of Devotion,” the few leaves, he has there wrote
    so pathetically on the Sacrament, and of printing them with
    the Communion Service; adding suitable observations of my own,
    to supply Jenks’ deficiencies. I propose likewise to add what
    Marshall says on the subject; and insert, from the Bishop of
    Man, his short, yet striking meditations on some well-chosen
    texts of Scripture? What says my _fidus Achates_ to this? Give
    it a place in your thoughts; and, however we may determine on
    this, let us determine to cleave more closely to the Lord, and
    wait upon our God continually.”

It is a curious fact, that, there is no evidence of any interview between
Hervey and the Wesleys, during 1751. At the beginning of the year, John
Wesley was married, in London, to Mrs. Vazeille; and his brother Charles
also spent several months in the metropolis; but neither their Journals
nor their Letters contain the least allusion to their valetudinarian
friend Hervey. With the exception of the month of January, Whitefield
was scarcely at all in London; but he wrote to Hervey, from Bristol, as
follows:—

                                         “BRISTOL, _March 17, 1751_.

    “MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—This comes with a summons from good Lady
    Huntingdon, for you to appear in Bristol, and abide for a month
    or two at my brother’s house. You must not refuse. The God,
    who has carried that elect Lady through such bad roads from
    Ashby hither, will take care of you, and, I am persuaded, you
    will not repent your journey. Her Ladyship made the motion to
    me, and intends writing herself. Blessed be God! she is much
    better, and I trust will do well. She will have nobody to give
    her the Sacrament unless you come. I hope this will find you
    at the Tabernacle House. I ventured, the other day, to put out
    a guinea to interest for you. It was to release an excellent
    Christian, who, by living very hard, and working near twenty
    hours out of four-and-twenty, had brought himself very low.
    He has a wife and four children, and was above two guineas in
    debt. I gave one for myself and one for you. We shall have good
    interest for our money in another world.”

Hervey’s health was such that he declined yielding to this request;[195]
and Whitefield wrote him another of his great-hearted letters:—

                                          “EXETER, _April 11, 1751_.

    “MY VERY DEAR MR. HERVEY,—I was pleased last night to find, by
    my wife’s letters, that, your sister was delivered, and, more
    so, because my wife wrote as though you were again under my
    roof. This I count a great honour, and such a privilege, that,
    I wish to have the favour conferred upon me as long as I live.
    These my hands (could they work, and was there occasion for it)
    should readily minister to your necessities. If my wife should
    come down to Bristol, pray let not my dear Mr. Hervey move. If
    Molly stays in London, she will take care of you; if not, Polly
    and Mr. D⸺ will gladly wait upon you. I have preached about
    forty times since I left London, and have been enabled several
    times to ride forty miles in a day. I find, that, this sensibly
    refreshes me. I wish you could say so too: your Bideford
    friends would then see you. They hold on their way, and long
    to have a line from you. I hope Jesus gives you strength to
    proceed in your book. It is inquired much after. The Lord be
    with you, and bless your pen, and your heart!”

Hervey was very happy in the house of his friend, and wrote to Mrs.
Whitefield, at Bristol, with a playfulness which was unusual in him:—

    “This leaves your family in good health, and me, whom you
    appoint steward, like Gideon’s soldiers,—_faint, but pursuing_;
    faint with bodily languors, but following after that amiable,
    adorable God, whose loving-kindness is better than life. We go
    on comfortably, and want for nothing, but your company. Mr.
    Cruttenden says, I live like a king, and dine every day in
    state. I tell him, No, I am nothing more than lord high-steward
    of your majesty’s household; but, since he will have it that
    I am a monarch, I this day began to act in character, and
    commanded and charged our trusty and well-beloved Robert
    Cruttenden, Esq., not to be awanting in his attendance on our
    royal person. I hope my friend’s jest is a good omen. I hope
    we shall be kings to our God, and reign over the rebels within,
    and tread the world under our feet, and sit in heavenly places
    with our exalted and royal Head, Christ Jesus.”

In the month of September, Whitefield embarked for Georgia; and, on his
arrival there, wrote to Hervey as follows:—

                                                “_February 1, 1752._

    “MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—I long to write to you, and inform you,
    that, I love you in the bowels of Jesus Christ. This leaves
    unworthy me, endeavouring to do something for Him on this side
    the water. Glory be to His great name! He causes His work to
    prosper in my worthless hands. Follow me with your prayers;
    and who knows but we may meet once more on this side heaven. I
    find our dear Mr. Hervey is to be detained longer from thence.
    I think he will have to bury many stronger men. I wish Lisbon
    may be blessed to Dr. Doddridge. I hope you write to Lady
    Huntingdon, and see her frequently. I was rejoiced to hear,
    from my dear yoke-fellow, that, her Ladyship was bravely:
    this was joy indeed. It is a new year. God quicken my tardy
    pace, and help me to do much work in a little time! This is my
    highest ambition.”

Dr. Doddridge, the beloved and honoured friend of Hervey, was already
dead. The great Dissenter, in feeble health, had embarked for Portugal,
in the same month as Whitefield started for America. He landed at
Lisbon on October 13th, 1751; and, thirteen days afterwards, peacefully
expired. In writing to Lady Frances Shirley, in reference to this event,
Hervey intimates, that, heaven to him was now more attractive than
ever. The removal of his friends made it easier for himself to die.
Like Whitefield, he entered upon the year 1752, in the spirit of ardent
gratitude, and entire devotedness to the service of his Saviour.

    “I bless God,” said he, “I want for nothing;—nothing, unless
    it be a heart more deeply and devoutly affected with His
    most undeserved goodness. My brother, also, at whose house I
    live, is in a course of business, flourishing and prosperous,
    as can be wished. I am one with the Methodists in my heart;
    though hampered and withheld from acting, by a languishing
    constitution.”

This was written January 18, 1752. A month afterwards, he wrote as
follows:—

                                 “MILES’S LANE, _February 19, 1752_.

    “On Sunday last, in the afternoon, we were greatly alarmed.
    A fire broke out in a Sugar-baker’s work-house, to which
    a part of my brother’s dwelling-house joins. We were all
    confusion and consternation; almost smothered with smoke;
    and crowded by the mob. Three engines, playing from various
    parts of our house, and several others, pouring in water from
    other quarters, by the blessing of God, kept under the raging
    element; and, in a few hours, extinguished it. It put me in
    mind of that tremendous day, when ‘the heavens shall pass away
    with a great noise, and the elements melt with fervent heat,
    and the earth with all the works therein be burnt up.’”[196]

The accident was alarming; and, to use the words of Hervey himself, “in
order to avoid the fire, he had to wade through water,” and caught a cold
and fever, which seriously shook his enfeebled health, and confined him
to his chamber several weeks.

It has been already mentioned, that, Whitefield prevailed on Hervey to
have his portrait taken. Early in the year 1752, a mezzotinto engraving
was published;[197] and the following was addressed to the Rev. Mr.
Nixon,[198] Rector of Cold-Higham, in Northamptonshire, who had put
together eight lines, which he wished to be printed beneath the likeness:—

    “I am obliged to you for the favour done me by your letter, and
    for the honour done me by your verses, to be engraved under
    my mezzotinto picture. I should have acknowledged both these
    obligations sooner, if my print-seller had not been dilatory
    in publishing the picture, which is now transmitted to Dr.
    Stonehouse, and desires your acceptance. I cannot forbear
    thinking, that, what is called honour, is a little capricious
    and whimsical. I, for my part, had taken my final leave of
    her; expected none of her favours; and was become familiarly
    acquainted with contempt. How is it then, that, she singles
    out a person, whose name has long been struck out of her
    list; and bestows her caresses upon a mean creature, who has
    been used to sit on the dung-hill? O! that it may be for the
    glory of Christ’s grace, Christ’s wisdom, Christ’s power! May
    I serve to the Sun of Righteousness, as a cloud is subservient
    in the firmament; which, though all-gloomy in itself, exhibits
    a rainbow; and, thereby, shows the world what beautiful colours
    are combined in that magnificent luminary.

    “You are pleased to inquire after my little work. Dear Sir,
    add, to your kind inquiries, a prayer to God, that, it may be
    executed under the anointings of His Spirit, and appear (if
    it ever appears) under the influence of His blessing. My late
    sickness laid an absolute embargo upon it, for a considerable
    time; and has so shattered my feeble constitution, that, I
    proceed like a vessel which has lost its rigging, and is full
    of leaks.”

Hervey was, in part at least, a Calvinist. Wesley, on the other hand, was
an Arminian; and, in 1751 and 1752, published two of his most convincing
and cogent pamphlets, namely, “Serious Thoughts upon the Perseverance of
the Saints,” and “Predestination Calmly Considered.” It would not be rash
to say, that, both were unanswerable, though Hervey thought differently.
On the first, he was thoroughly opposed to his friend Wesley; on the
second he was dubious. Hence the following:—

                                    “MILES’S LANE, _March 24, 1752_.

    “Mr. Wesley’s last piece I have not read through. I can’t say,
    I am fond of that controversy. The doctrine of the perseverance
    of Christ’s servants, Christ’s children, Christ’s spouse, and
    Christ’s members, I am thoroughly persuaded of. Predestination
    and reprobation I think of with fear and trembling. And, if I
    should attempt to study them, I would study them on my knees.”

Hervey was now employed in writing his able and beautiful controversial
pamphlet, entitled, “Remarks on Lord Bolingbroke’s Letters on the Study
and Use of History; so far as they relate to the History of the Old
Testament, and especially to the case of Noah, denouncing a Curse upon
Canaan; in a Letter to a Lady of Quality.” The great infidel had died on
November 15th, 1751; and his book, which had been published posthumously,
had created a painful sensation. Hervey completed his “Remarks” on April
22, 1752; though they were not published for some time after: indeed,
originally, they were not intended for publication at all. Lady Frances
Shirley, having read Bolingbroke’s bad book, wrote to Hervey, asking his
opinion concerning it; and the “Remarks” were, in the first instance,
nothing more than a private letter to the “Lady of Quality” just
mentioned.[199] The pamphlet is a successful attempt to refute a few of
Bolingbroke’s bold and unauthorized assertions, namely: 1. That, “the Old
Testament is no sufficient authority for _chronology_ from the beginning
of time.” 2. That, in the Holy Scriptures, instead of history, we have “a
heap of fables; which can pretend to nothing but some inscrutable truths,
and therefore useless to mankind.” 3. That, the Scriptures are “full of
additions, and interpolations, and transpositions.” 4. That, Noah “was
still drunk when he denounced a curse upon Canaan; for no man in his
senses could hold such language, or pass such a sentence.”

A wiser man than Lord Bolingbroke once wrote:—

    “The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that
    which is done, is that which shall be done; and there is no new
    thing under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes i. 9.)

In the infidel objections of Bolingbroke, the reader finds the pith of
all the infidel objections of the present day; and, in order to refute
them, nothing more is needed than to turn to the manly defences of the
Holy Bible written more than a hundred years ago. Modern infidelity is
the infidelity of Bolingbroke and others, dished up, and served with
newly-invented garnishing, and a pretentiously learned flavour. Hervey’s
treatise is free from all the ornate faultiness of his “Meditations”; its
style is flowing, clear, and forcible; and its arguments fairly put and
unanswerable. It would be rendering useful service to republish it in the
present alarming prevalency of unbelief.

In the month of May, 1752, the livings of Weston-Favel and Collingtree
were rendered vacant by the death of Hervey’s father. The following
extracts from letters to Lady Frances Shirley refer to this event, and to
other matters.

    “_1732, May 19._ I am upon the point to remove into
    Northamptonshire. It has pleased God to take my honoured father
    to Himself; so that, I am obliged to depart from my present
    situation, and to take the living of Weston.[200] O! that I
    had strength of constitution, to watch over a flock, and feed
    them with the milk of the word! But the will of the Lord is
    best. He employs whom He will employ; and whom He will, He lays
    aside. Wise and righteous are all His ways. ’Tis very probable,
    I shall never have the pleasure of seeing your ladyship again,
    on this side the everlasting habitations. My enfeebled state
    renders me like an aged tree, which must continue where it is
    fixed: to transplant it, or to remove it, is to kill it.”

    “_May 23._ I am just arrived at Weston, after a pleasant
    journey, in an easy coach, and cool weather. I am much
    fatigued, though we allowed two days for about seventy miles.
    Thanks are due to your ladyship for making my Letter[201]
    acceptable to others, by approving it yourself, and honouring
    it with your recommendation. I humbly bless God, if He pleases
    to give it favour in the eyes of others; and should think it
    the highest privilege, if He would vouchsafe to render it at
    all serviceable to their best interests; especially to such a
    distinguished and illustrious personage as the Princess of W⸺.
    I assure you, my lady, I have not the least aversion to print
    any production of mine, in case better judges should think it
    might tend to maintain the honour of the Bible, or endear that
    inestimable book to mankind. All I fear is, lest acute but
    irreligious minds should discover some weak sentiment; should
    find some flaw in the argument; and take occasion to wound the
    Redeemer, and vilify His truths, through my inadvertence. Be
    so good, my lady, as to make my very respectful compliments
    acceptable to Dr. Hales,[202] and inform him of my suspicions.
    If he would please to revise the little essay, and should think
    the ‘Remarks’ will stand the test of a rigorous examination,
    my scruples would be very much abated. I believe, I durst
    undertake to vindicate all the observations, that are of a
    critical nature, with regard to the original language, or of an
    historic nature with regard to fact. Whether I offend against
    the rules of polite and genteel demeanour, your ladyship is the
    best judge. If your ladyship, or the Dr., should persist in
    your opinion, I wish you would be so good as to get the paper
    transcribed (no matter how close it is written) and transmitted
    to me in a frank; for I have no copy of it, only in some
    incoherent minutes in shorthand.

    “I know not what the Lord will do with me, or how I shall
    proceed. My strength is so worn down, and my constitution so
    irreparably decayed, that it will be absolutely impossible for
    me to discharge my ministerial duty.”

    “_June 13._ Weston is near Northampton; about two miles from
    the town; pleasantly situated on an agreeable eminence. My
    house is quite retired; so that we hear none of the tumultuous
    din of the world, and see nothing but the wonderful and
    charming works of the Creator. O! that I may be enabled to
    improve this advantageous solitude! I did, on the day your
    ladyship mentions, ascend the pulpit; and speak, for the space
    of half an hour, to my people. But with so much weakness!
    O! ’tis well that the eternal God does not want strength of
    lungs, or delicacy of elocution; but can do His great work of
    converting souls by the weakest, meanest instruments. If it was
    not so, I must absolutely despair of being successful in my
    labour, or serviceable in my office. I opened my commission to
    my new parishioners, from those words: ‘Preach the gospel to
    every creature’; and gave them to understand, that, the end of
    my preaching amongst them, the design of my conversation with
    them, and the principal aim of my whole life would be, to bring
    them acquainted with the truth, and assist them in attaining
    the great salvation.”

    “_July 3._ Advised by my friends, importuned by my relations,
    and swayed by a concern for the circumstances of a mother and
    sister who live with me, I have been prevailed on to take a
    second benefice.[203] This obliges me to set out for Cambridge
    without delay, in order to be created Master of Arts. From
    thence, I proceed to London, to get a dispensation from
    the Archbishop, and the seals from the Lord Chancellor. On
    Wednesday night, I hope to be in town; and, if I can get my
    business despatched by Saturday or Monday at the farthest, I
    may return soon enough to meet our Diocesan on his visitation
    at Northampton; receive institution there; and save myself
    the fatigue and expense of a journey to Peterborough. I was
    honoured with your ladyship’s letter, just as I returned from
    visiting my people at Collingtree: the parish which I served,
    when I lived with my father, and of which I am going to be
    rector. It would have pleased you to have observed how glad the
    honest folks were to see their old curate. And why were they
    glad? For no other reason, that I can conceive, but because I
    used to converse with them in private, just as I spoke to them
    from the pulpit; and endeavoured, at every interview, to set
    forward their eternal salvation. This, I find, is the grand
    secret, to win the affections of a flock. And in this, as in
    every other part of true Christianity, our interest and our
    duty are connected.”

    “_July 11._ I think your ladyship’s objection was very just and
    weighty. I fancy it would be most advisable to send the little
    piece” (his Remarks on Bolingbroke) “abroad under my own name;
    as the acceptance, which my other Essays have found from the
    public, may promote the spread of this. And, I apprehend, my
    bookseller would give me something for the copy; which, at
    this juncture, would scarcely be consistent with prudence to
    neglect. The expense of taking my two livings is very great.
    It will cost me, I am told, six score pounds; and though,
    I believe, I have money enough in the bank, produced by my
    selling the property of my ‘Meditations,’ yet such a succour
    would be welcome and serviceable. Will your ladyship lend your
    name, either at full length or in initial letters, to dignify
    and recommend the performance? I humbly submit this proposal
    to your ladyship’s determination: and shall be obliged, if you
    allow it; and shall acquiesce, if you reject it.”

Hervey visited the metropolis, and, on his return to Weston-Favel, had a
near escape from an untimely death. He writes:—

    “_August 2._ Very early on Wednesday morning, I set out for
    Northampton, in a new machine, called _The Berlin_; which holds
    four passengers, is drawn by a pair of horses, and driven in
    the manner of a post-chaise. On this side Newport, we came up
    with a stage-coach, and made an attempt to pass it. This the
    coachman perceiving, mended his pace; which provoked the driver
    of the _Berlin_ to do the same, till they both lashed their
    horses into a full career; and were more like running a race,
    than conveying passengers. We very narrowly escaped falling
    foul on each other’s wheels. I called out to the fellows; but
    to no purpose. Within the space of a minute or two, what I
    apprehended happened. My vehicle was overturned, and thrown
    with great violence on the ground. The coachman was tossed
    off his box, and lay bleeding in the road. There was only one
    person in the coach, and none but myself in the _Berlin_; yet,
    neither of us (so tender was the care of Divine Providence!)
    sustained any considerable hurt. I received only a slight
    bruise, and had the skin razed from my leg, where I might
    too reasonably have feared the misfortune of broken bones,
    dislocated limbs, or a fractured skull.”

Hervey was now instituted, by the Bishop of Peterborough, in his
second living, and opened his commission, among his new parishioners,
by preaching from the text,—“To me, who am less than the least of all
saints, is this grace given, that, I should preach among the Gentiles the
unsearchable riches of Christ.” He also sent to the press his “Remarks
on Lord Bolingbroke’s Letters,” which, in the month of November, were
published. He solicited Lady Frances Shirley to favour him with the
criticisms of her friends; and, on December 5, 1752, wrote to her as
follows:—

    “I am much obliged to your Ladyship for taking the trouble of
    transmitting the sentiments of your critical acquaintance.
    If I live to write another letter, I will return my opinion
    with relation to them. This is designedly short; to correspond
    with my weak state of health. For I am again confined; though,
    blessed be God! not ‘in durance vile,’ I preached on Sunday;
    and renewed my cold; so that this morning I have lost my
    voice. What a dying life is mine! Every blast pierces me, and
    every cold crushes me. Blessed, for ever blessed be God! for a
    better life and happier state in the heavens. Where we shall be
    languid no more; and be ungrateful to Jesus no more; and sin
    against God no more.”

To another friend, a few days later, he wrote:—

    “_December 14, 1752._—Your approbation of anything in my
    ‘Remarks,’ will give me singular satisfaction; yet, I should
    be no less obliged for your free thoughts, on what should have
    been added, expunged, or altered. Point out my blemishes,
    and supply my defects. Applause may be more soothing to my
    vanity; but such kind corrections will be more pleasing to
    my judgment, and more serviceable to our common cause. It is
    scarce probable, that, a second edition should be published,
    as the first was numerous; but, if there should be such a
    demand, I am sure, your animadversions would enrich and ennoble
    it. As an author, I would aim, singly aim at the glory of my
    Divine Master, and the furtherance of His everlasting Gospel.
    Nevertheless, I would, by no means, neglect the recommendations
    of a graceful composition. I would be glad to have the apples
    of gold, which are the truths of our holy religion, set in
    pictures of silver. Generally speaking, human nature must be
    pleased, in order to be profited. The wisest of men ‘sought and
    found out acceptable words,’ even when that which was written,
    was the truth of God.”

In these extracts, the reader may find the reasons why Hervey became a
pluralist. The thing cannot be commended; but, perhaps, in his case, it
may be pardoned. He himself disliked it; but the circumstances of his
widowed mother and fatherless sister, the importunity of his relatives,
and the advice of his friends, overcame his righteous repugnance. At
one time, he seems to have entertained the idea of giving one of the
livings to his friend Dr. Stonehouse;[204] but this was abandoned; and
Hervey placed himself in the extremely objectionable position of holding
two ecclesiastical benefices instead of only one. It is true, that, the
united populations of Weston-Favel and Collingtree were not more than
about six hundred souls; and that the income of the two livings was only
about £180 a year; but the question is, was it absolutely wrong, in
every case, to become a pluralist? If it was not, Hervey was excusable,
for, though £180 then was worth more than £600 now, the presentation to
the two benefices was his own hereditary property, and, subject to the
law of the land, he had a right to do as he liked with it. Still, the
being a pluralist was an ugly fact. Churches have always objected to it.
Even as early as the thirteenth century, at the Lateran council, holding
more than one benefice was expressly forbidden, by a canon, under the
penalty of deprivation; the same canon, however, granting the pope a
power to dispense with it in favour of persons of distinguished merit.
The practical result was, there were so many found with a title to this
merit, that the prohibition became useless. In this way, the holding of
more benefices than one, became legal; and such was the existing state of
things in the time of Hervey. The law of the land created difficulties;
but they were far from being insuperable. Two certificates had to
be obtained from the bishop of the Diocese, one for the Archbishop,
and the other for the Lord Chancellor. Testimonials, also, had to be
procured, from the neighbouring clergy, concerning the presentee’s
behaviour and conversation. He must also exhibit to the Archbishop, not
only his letters of order of deacon and priest, but also a certificate
of his having taken the degree of Master of Arts at the least, in one
of the Universities of the realm. These and other preliminaries had
to be observed; after which, if the Archbishop was satisfied, the
dispensation was granted (not by the pope as in former days, but), by the
Faculty Office; it was then confirmed under the broad seal of the Lord
Chancellor; and, finally, the affair was completed, by an application
to the bishop of the diocese where the living was situated, for the
presentee’s admission and institution into his second cure of souls.
Hervey had to pass through the whole of this worrying process; and,
beside other expenses, had to pay a stamp duty of £30 for every skin, or
paper, or parchment, on which his dispensation was engrossed. No wonder,
that, he speaks of it as having cost him “six score pounds.” For five
hundred years, or more, plurality of benefices had been an ecclesiastical
disgrace; and, though, perhaps, permissible in a case like Hervey’s, it
adds no lustre to his fame, and was not obtainable without handsome fees
to the highest authorities of the English Church and State.

There is another fact, belonging to this period of Hervey’s history,
too curious to be omitted. Every one knows, that, Whitefield believed,
that, the keeping of slaves was sanctioned by the Scriptures; that,
hot countries could not be cultivated without negroes; and, that, the
lives of numbers of white people had been destroyed in Georgia, and
large amounts of money wasted, for want of negro labour. Holding such
principles, Whitefield, in 1751, bought a number of slaves, partly to
cultivate the land attached to his Orphan House, in Georgia: and partly
to instruct them, and to make them Christians.[205] Strange to say,
the gentle Hervey approved of this procedure; and having, during his
residence in London, largely shared in Whitefield’s hospitality, he gave
to him, as a souvenir on leaving,—what? A slave! Hence the following:—

    “When you please to demand, my brother will pay you £30, for
    the purchase of a Negro. And may the Lord Jesus Christ give
    you, or rather take for Himself, the precious soul of the poor
    slave!”

Whitefield readily acquiesced. His answer, referring to other matters as
well as this, was as follows:—

                                            “LONDON, _June 9, 1752_.

    “MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—I have received and read your
    manuscripts;[206] but for me to play the critic upon them,
    would be like holding up a candle to the sun. However, before
    I leave town, I will just mark a few places as you desire, and
    then send the manuscripts to your brother. I foretell their
    fate: nothing but your scenery can screen you. Self will never
    bear to die, though slain in so genteel a manner, without
    showing some resentment against its artful murderer.

    “You are resolved not to die in my debt. I think to call your
    intended purchase _Weston_, and shall take care to remind him
    by whose means he was brought under the everlasting Gospel.

    “O that Doctor Stonehouse may be brought out to preach it! If
    you do not take the other living” (Collingtree) “yourself, I
    think your giving it to the Doctor is a glorious scheme.

    “Your brother has been so kind as to let me have the little
    mare again. My Master walked,—I ride, to preach the glorious
    Gospel. Whether riding or walking, Lord Jesus, let my whole
    heart be taken up with Thee!

    “Adieu, my dearest sir, adieu. Cease not to pray for

                           “Ever yours whilst

                                                “GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

One other letter from Whitefield may fitly close the year 1752.
Whitefield had read Hervey’s “Remarks on Bolingbroke,” and now wished him
to publish his “Theron and Aspasio.”

                                       “LONDON, _November 14, 1752_.

    “MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—”God will bless you for vindicating the
    honour of His sacred volumes in your last pamphlet, for which,
    as for all other unmerited favours, I most heartily thank you.
    I have just now read it, and doubt not of its being greatly
    blessed and owned, and going through many editions. I cannot
    discern any errata or inaccuracies in the composition. Surely,
    God hath raised my dear friend up, to let the polite world see
    how amiable are the doctrines of the Gospel. Why will you weary
    the world, and your friends, by delaying to publish your other
    long wished-for performance.[207] I shall be glad to peruse any
    of the Dialogues. The savour of the last is not of my mind.
    Pray let them see the light this winter. They will delight and
    warm many a heart.

    “My dear, very dear friend, good-night. My kind respects await
    your mother and sister. My wife, who is quite an invalid,
    joins heartily with me, who am, my very dear sir, yours most
    affectionately in our common Lord,

                                                “GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Though so feeble and delicate, Hervey tried to preach twice every Sunday.
His ministry also was popular and attractive, his churches being crowded
to excess, and the windows sometimes removed, that, the people outside
might hear. His style was familiar, and adapted to the congregations to
whom he preached; and, of course, his sentiments were Calvinistical. “You
have observed,” said he, about this period of his history, “the walls
on either side of the path leading to this church. They are covered, as
you know, with ivy. Now, you may pluck off the leaves, and break off
the branches, so that none of them shall be seen on the outside; but
the roots of the plant have so worked themselves into the wall, that,
it would be impossible entirely to eradicate them without taking down
the wall, and not leaving one stone upon another. And so must this frail
body be taken down; and then, and not till then, shall we get rid of the
remains of a degenerate nature.”[208]

Hervey’s metaphor was striking; but metaphors are not arguments.

To employ his own expressions, Hervey began the year 1753 in “ill-health
and weak spirits, which cramped his mind, and unnerved his hand.” He was
“sadly indisposed; languid and dispirited; out of humour with himself,
and displeased with his own thoughts.”

His “Theron and Aspasio” was now the chief and almost only occupation of
his leisure hours. A part of the work was sent to Whitefield for revisal.
Hence the following:—

                                        “LONDON, _January 27, 1753_.

    “MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—I thank you a thousand times for the
    trouble you have been at, in revising my poor compositions,
    which, I am afraid, you have not treated with becoming severity.

    “How many pardons shall I ask for mangling, and, I fear,
    murdering your dear ‘Theron and Aspasio?’ You will see by
    Monday’s coach; which will bring a parcel directed for you. It
    contains one of your ‘Dialogues,’ and two more of my sermons;
    which I do not like very well myself, and, therefore, shall
    not wonder if you dislike them. If you think they will do for
    the public, pray return them immediately, because the other
    two go to the press next Monday. I have nothing to comfort me
    but this, ‘that the Lord chooses the weak things of this world
    to confound the strong; and things, that are not, to bring to
    nought things that are. I think to sell all four sermons for
    sixpence. I write for the poor; you for the polite and noble.
    God will assuredly own and bless what you write.

    “As yet, I have only had time to peruse one of your sweet
    ‘Dialogues.’ As fast as possible, I shall read the rest. I am
    more than paid for my trouble by reading them.

    “The Lord be with your dear heart! Continue to pray for me. The
    Lord be with us! Grace! Grace!

    “I am, dearest sir, in very great haste, but greater love,

                             “Yours, etc.,

                                                “GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Doddridge was dead, and beyond the reach of consultation; but Hervey
now became acquainted with another eminent dissenter,—John Ryland, the
well-known Baptist minister,—who became the intimate friend of the
Rector of Weston-Favel, and one of his most trusted advisers. In a
letter, dated “February 3, 1753,” Hervey sent to Ryland a rough outline
of his “Theron and Aspasio,” and said,

    “My piece is, as yet, only in embryo. Will you, dear sir,
    contribute your assistance to ripen the design, and bring it to
    the birth? With this view, I send you my four first dialogues.
    They are very incorrect, and shamefully blotted.[209] The first
    fault your pen will mend; the second your candour will excuse.
    But, instead of making any more apologies, give me leave to lay
    before you a plan of the whole scheme,” etc.[210]

Hervey was almost fastidious in his literary tastes; and, hence, his
habit of asking his friends to revise his manuscripts previous to
their being printed. There can be no question, that, he went further,
in this respect, than he need have done. Whitefield was a glorious
evangelist; but made no pretensions to being a man of letters. Ryland
was a strong-minded man; but not an accomplished scribe. The Countess of
Huntingdon, in some respects, was one of the most remarkable women that
ever lived; but polite literature was not the orbit in which she shone.
And, yet, Hervey sought “friendly corrections” from the coroneted lady as
well as from the great itinerant, and the Baptist minister. Hence, the
following:—

    “Your ladyship is pleased to express a wish, that, I should
    proceed, without delay, in finishing my intended work. Be
    assured, your wishes, madam, have all the force of a command
    with me. I send you the first four ‘Dialogues,’ beseeching you
    to peruse them, not with the partiality of a friend, but the
    severity of a critic. The like request I have made of others,
    and have received their friendly corrections. I am deeply
    sensible of my own deficiencies, and, in order, therefore,
    to render my work, if possible, fit for public view—meet for
    the Master’s use, I shall feel obliged by any corrections
    or improvements, which your pen may make. Your ladyship is
    at liberty to show the manuscript to whom you please. Your
    remarks, and those of your friends, may supply the sterility
    of my invention, and the poverty of my language. If you really
    approve of what I have sketched, I shall be encouraged to
    proceed in my work. May I not hope for the honour of dedicating
    it to your ladyship? It would give me singular pleasure
    to have any work of my pen patronised by the Countess of
    Huntingdon.”[211]

Lady Huntingdon sympathized with the design of Hervey’s book; claimed
the assistance of all those whom she considered capable of suggesting
improvements and useful hints; and transmitted their observations to the
author; but declined the offered dedication. Hervey writes:—

                                                   “_July 14, 1753._

    “MADAM,—Accept my thanks, for taking the trouble of perusing
    my very imperfect manuscript, and my grateful acknowledgments,
    for the improving touches and remarks you have made, as well as
    for those of your highly valuable friends and acquaintances.
    The corrections will be exceedingly beneficial to the work,
    and render it more acceptable to the public in general. But,
    I confess, I feel disappointed at your ladyship’s declining
    to patronise the public attempt of my pen; nevertheless, your
    observations are so sensible and just, that, I cannot think of
    pressing the matter on your attention, further than to solicit
    your prayers for the success of the undertaking, and for the
    unworthy author.”[212]

Writing, on the same subject, to Mr. Ryland, Hervey says:—

                                    “WESTON-FAVEL, _March 17, 1753_.

    “MY DEAR FRIEND,—I thank you, for the trouble of perusing my
    very imperfect manuscripts; and I desire Mr. Medley to accept
    my very grateful acknowledgments for the improving remarks he
    has made. I beg of him to proceed, and to use the same kind of
    severity with the other sketches. I am sensible, the pointing
    is inaccurate; and shall be much obliged for every correction
    in this particular. It will be no less beneficial to my piece,
    if he pleases to make free use of the pruning knife. Prolixity,
    upon such a subject, will infallibly create disgust, especially
    with the polite, for whose perusal and whose service, I would
    wish my attempt was properly calculated. I don’t pretend, nor
    indeed do I wish, to write one _new_ truth. The utmost of my
    aim is, to represent old doctrines in a pleasing light, and
    dress them in a fashionable or genteel manner.”[213]

Such extracts as these are not without interest. They show, that, Hervey,
unlike his friends Wesley and Whitefield, wrote not so much for the
masses of the people as for the educated and genteel; and, that, he was
intensely anxious to have his publications, in a literary point of view,
as perfect as possible.

It was in May, 1752, that, Hervey, in broken health, succeeded his father
as Rector of Weston-Favel. Twelve months afterwards, he was called upon
to preach, at the visitation of the Archdeacon of Peterborough, in All
Saints Church, Northampton. Writing to Lady Frances Shirley, he says,—

    “_1753, May 10._ I am now setting out for Northampton, where
    I am to preach the visitation sermon. I know not how I shall
    speak, so as to be heard, in that very large and lofty church.
    May the Lord God Omnipotent make His strength perfect, in my
    extreme weakness. O! for the eloquence of an Apollos, and
    the fervour of a Boanerges! I am quite ashamed of my poor,
    jejune, spiritless, composition; and I am no less ashamed of my
    unbelief, that, I dare not trust God for utterance; but, before
    an audience that is critical, forsooth must use my notes.”

Hervey’s text, on this occasion, was, “God forbid, that, I should glory,”
etc. (Gal. vi. 14); and the sermon was the first he published. Though not
remarkable for either learning or argument, it was thoroughly evangelical
and faithful; and, unless the belief and practice of the clergy there
assembled were exceptional, it must have been somewhat startling. It was
the sermon of a _Methodist_; and _Methodist sermons_ then were seldom
heard in the Established Church.

Preaching it was a duty; publishing it was an act of charity. Hence the
following:—

    “_1753, May 19._ I have lately been somewhat busied in
    preparing a sermon to be preached before the clergy, at our
    Archdeacon’s visitation; and, to my weak nerves and languid
    spirits, a little business is a toil. A commentator, with whom
    I wish you may long be unacquainted, has taught me the meaning
    of Solomon’s description, ‘The grasshopper shall be a burden.’
    The sermon, though perfectly plain and artless, is in the
    press. It is printed for the relief of a poor afflicted child,
    as a short advertisement will inform the world. The person,
    to whose management it is consigned, has given orders for an
    impression of two thousand; besides a hundred and fifty, which
    I have bespoken for myself.”

Printed sermons have seldom been popular; but the adventure, in this
instance, succeeded. “I have no business going forward with the printer,”
wrote Hervey, in a letter to Lady Frances Shirley, on July 15, 1753.

    “My last little essay would have remained in the obscurity
    of shorthand, if the father of the afflicted youth had not
    importuned me to send my sermon on a begging errand. I gave it
    him as a kind of lottery ticket, not without some hopes and
    many prayers, that it might meet with success, and come up a
    prize. Nor have I reason to repent; for, though he printed two
    thousand, he tells me they are almost all sold.”

An extract from another letter may be welcome. It refers, not only to
this visitation sermon, but to Hervey’s parochial labours.

                                  “WESTON-FAVEL, _October 28, 1753_.

    “I have, this afternoon, been preaching to a crowded audience.
    You would be surprised, and, I believe, every body wonders that
    I am able to officiate for myself. I am so weak that I can
    hardly walk to the end of my parish, though a small one; and
    so tender, that I dare not visit my poor neighbours, for fear
    of catching cold in their bleak houses. Yet, I am enabled, on
    the Lord’s-day, to catechise, and expound to my children in
    the morning, and to preach in the afternoon. Every Wednesday
    evening (hay-time and harvest only excepted) I read prayers,
    and give them a lecture-sermon in Weston church. This is the
    Lord’s doing, or, as your favourite book expresses it, this is
    owing to ‘the good hand of my God upon me.’

    “God has been pleased to pity the poor youth, for whose relief
    the visitation-sermon, I preached at Northampton, was printed.
    An edition of two thousand is disposed of; and the manager,
    for the distressed object, is venturing upon another edition.
    See, dear sir, if God will bless, who can blast? If He will
    further, what can obstruct? A feather, a straw, if He pleases
    to command, shall be a polished shaft in His quiver. Trust not,
    therefore, in eloquence or argument, in depth of thought or
    beauty of style, all of which are confessedly wanting in the
    present case; but ‘trust ye in the Lord for ever, for in the
    Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength.’”

Another glimpse of Hervey, in the midst of his rustic congregations, is
furnished by a letter written by one of Whitefield’s preachers.

    “Last Sabbath-day, I rode to hear Mr. Hervey at Collingtree;
    and, to my great surprise as well as satisfaction, having never
    seen such a thing before in prayer-time, instead of singing
    psalms, they sung two of Dr. Watts’ hymns, the clerk giving
    them out line by line. After prayer, without going out of the
    desk, the minister put off his surplice, and expounded the
    Second Lesson of the day. And then, without going up into the
    pulpit, he read Ephesians v. 25-27, and spoke from them very
    sweetly and clearly. He expounds every Wednesday night, at the
    same church; preaches twice on the Sabbath; catechizes the
    children; and meets some people on Tuesdays and Thursdays, in
    or near the parish where his father preached.”[214]

There was no high-church ritualism here; but a godly pastor making
himself at home among his poor parishioners, and simply and earnestly
trying to promote the spiritual and eternal welfare of them and of their
children.

In his enfeebled health, the wonder is how Hervey managed to undertake so
many of these rural services. And yet, while thus faithfully discharging
his duties as a parish priest, he was, if not an extensive reader, a most
diligent student of the holy Bible, and a conscientious cultivator of
literary æsthetics. Wesley, when an old man, remarked,—

    “I _could_ even now write as floridly and rhetorically as even
    the admired Dr. R⸺; but, I dare not, because I seek the honour
    that cometh of God only. What is the praise of men to _me_,
    that have one foot in the grave, and am stepping into the land
    whence I shall not return. Therefore I dare no more write in
    a _fine style_ than wear a fine coat. But were it otherwise,
    had I time to spare, I should still write as I do. I should
    purposely decline, what many admire, a highly ornamental style.
    I cannot admire French oratory; I despise it from my heart.”

It was otherwise with Hervey. Of set purpose, he cultivated the “_fine
style_” of writing. Wesley wrote for the _masses_; Hervey for the _élite_
of human society.

    “My writings,” said he, “are not fit for ordinary people; I
    never give them to such persons, and dissuade this class of men
    from procuring them. O that they may be of some service to the
    more refined part of the world!”[215]

Wesley and Hervey were equally conscientious; and opinions will differ
concerning the wisdom of their different decisions; though all will
probably admit, that, if Wesley’s writings had less of scholastic
learning, sonorousness, and rhythm, they had vastly more point and power
than those of his old Oxford friend. Still, both acted from the purest
motive; and it is in such a light that their respective merits should be
judged. In a letter to a friend, dated, “Weston-Favel, August 18, 1753,”
Hervey writes:—

    “I wish you had taken minutes of what you saw most remarkable
    in your tour through Westmoreland and Cumberland. Described
    in your language, and embellished with your imagination, an
    account of these counties might be highly pleasing to all;
    and, grafted with religious improvements, might be equally
    edifying. Such kind of writings suit the present taste. We
    don’t love close thinking. That is most likely to win our
    approbation, which extenuates the fancy, without fatiguing the
    attention. Since this is the disposition of the age, let us
    endeavour to catch men by guile; turn even a foible to their
    advantage; and bait the gospel hook agreeably to the prevailing
    taste. In this sense, ‘become all things to all men.’”

Hervey was now possessed of a large and varied library; but, like Wesley,
he was, to a great extent, “_homo unius libri_.”

    “My library,” says he, “is composed of the books collected by
    my father and grandfather; among which there are multitudes,
    that I shall continue a stranger to as long as I live, though
    they stand at my right hand and my left every day. I want to be
    better acquainted with God’s holy word; to have its inestimable
    truths lodged in my memory, its heavenly doctrines impressed
    upon my heart; that my tempers may take their fashion from it;
    that my private conversation may be seasoned with it; and my
    public ministrations enriched by it. Thus, dear sir, may the
    word of Christ dwell in us richly! I am, what people would
    call, a moderate Calvinist; but, I assure you, I can bear, I
    shall delight to have, my notions sifted; nor am I so attached
    to any favourite scheme, but I can readily relinquish it, when
    Scripture and reason convince me it is wrong.”

Hervey’s “Theron and Aspasio,”—by far the greatest work of his short
life,—was now nearly completed; and his time was chiefly occupied in
putting it through the press. All kinds of friends were consulted; and
their revisions and emendations solicited. The book was too bulky, and
yet Hervey was at his wits’ end to make it less. Postage of proof-sheets
was heavy; and compositors and printers were dilatory to a most
worrying extent. The year throughout was a trying one, especially to a
valetudinarian like Hervey. Brief extracts from his letters will best
illustrate what we mean.

“1754, May 4.” Writing to Mr. Ryland, Hervey says,—

    “My bookseller tells me, it will be impossible to comprise my
    essay in less than three volumes of the ‘Meditations’ size. It
    is much against my inclination to exceed the quantity of two
    volumes; but, I believe, I must submit, or else we shall cramp
    the design, and mutilate the plan.”[216]

    “May 20. I send two or three manuscripts, and beg of you
    to exercise the same frankness of admiration, and the same
    impartiality of censure upon them. My bookseller tells me, it
    cannot be comprised in less than three volumes. I have always
    had an aversion to so diffusive a work. Many will not have
    ability to purchase them; many not have leisure to read them;
    and to some, I fear, the very sight of three volumes would
    be like loads of meat to a squeamish stomach. Yet, I cannot
    contract the work, without omitting those parts which are
    intended to entertain the reader, keep him in good humour,
    and allure or bribe him to go on. What would you advise? I
    send ‘Letters,’ eight, nine, ten, and eleven; and ‘Dialogues,’
    fifteen and seventeen. Do, my dear sir, improve, polish, and
    enrich them. I am, this day, a prisoner in my chamber, and
    write in much pain. Blessed be God for that world, where all
    tears will be wiped away from our eyes, and there will be no
    more pain.”

    “May 30. I send herewith four of my ‘Dialogues,’ which I beg
    of you to examine with a kind severity. I do assure you, I can
    bear to receive censure from a friend, and will kiss the lips
    that administer it, especially when it is intended to preserve
    my attempts to further the glorious gospel from the contempt of
    the public. I will, ere long, send you, in a frank, a general
    view of my plan, which, in the execution, is become too prolix,
    and cannot be comprehended in less than three volumes, unless
    some judicious friend will help me to curtail and abridge. I am
    very unwilling to publish a work consisting of three volumes; I
    apprehend this will obstruct the sale not a little.”

“June 1.” In a letter to Lady Frances Shirley, Hervey writes,—

    “May I promise myself the benefit of your opinion concerning
    the publication of _three_ volumes? As you know the taste and
    temper of the polite world, I should be much obliged for your
    advice. And I beg you will not flatter my vanity; but, if you
    think, that _three_ volumes on a religious subject will be
    insupportable, be so kind as to tell me plainly. I would fain
    write what may be acceptable, in order to write what may be
    useful; and, for my own part, I really am afraid, that, so
    large a work will be less likely to subserve such a design.”

In another letter, to the same lady, a fortnight afterwards, Hervey
wrote:—

    “_June 16._ I have still another scruple, which respects not
    the gay and splendid world, but the mean and penurious. I would
    gladly have my books in those hands, which hold the plough, and
    ply the distaff, because these persons are as nearly related to
    the all-creating God, and as highly beloved by the ever-blessed
    Jesus, as those who wear a crown, or wield a sceptre. But these
    will hardly be able to purchase _three_ volumes. I thank your
    ladyship for your kind offer, in reference to the princess; but
    my work is so far from being ready to come abroad, that, it
    is not yet in the press. The necessary preliminaries, one of
    which is the number of the volumes, are not settled; though, as
    to this particular, I begin to be pretty well satisfied.”

    “_June 21._ Before this arrives, I hope my ‘Dialogues’ will
    have received the free correction, and the friendly improvement
    of your pen. As, through my many and repeated infirmities,
    I had long discontinued and have often intermitted my
    intended work, I am informed, from London, that the abettors
    of the Socinian scheme have been pleased to triumph in my
    disappointment; imagining that, through fear or inability, I
    had laid aside my design, and insinuating, that, I had changed
    my principles, or was conscious of the weakness of my cause.
    From these gentlemen, if my essay should appear in public, it
    may expect a severe examination, and probably a violent attack.
    I hope your friendship will anticipate their inveteracy, and
    remove those blemishes, which might give them a handle for
    censure, or a ground for insult. What is your opinion, as
    to publishing _three_ volumes? Mr. Moses Brown and another
    friend pronounce in the affirmative, though I am much afraid
    that this circumstance will clog the sale. There are several
    pieces that are a kind of excursion from the principal subject,
    calculated to relieve and entertain the reader, yet not without
    administering some spiritual benefit. A whole ‘Dialogue’ upon
    the wisdom, power, and goodness, displayed in the contrivance
    and formation of the human body. Two or three ‘Letters,’
    pointing out the traces of the same grand and amiable
    attributes in the constitution of the earth, the air, and the
    ocean. These I am afraid to lop off, lest it should be like
    wiping the bloom from the plum, or taking the gold from the
    gingerbread. To you I say gingerbread, though I would not say
    so to the public, for I really think the taste of the present
    age is somewhat like the humour of children: their milk must be
    sugared, their wine spiced, and their necessary food garnished
    with flowers, and enriched with sweetmeats.”

    “_July 8._ I have had my bookseller’s opinion with relation
    to the number of copies proper to be printed, at which I am
    somewhat surprised, and must desire your advice. He says
    5000 in small, and 750 in large, octavo. To this I have some
    objections. In the first place, the sale of such a prodigious
    quantity cannot be but hazardous, though, I must confess, I
    have no reason to distrust the goodness of that over-ruling
    Providence, to which I would humbly ascribe the acceptance of a
    preceding essay. This scruple, therefore, shall be set aside.
    But what think you of the following consideration? Errors and
    weaknesses, if such a number be printed at once, may never be
    corrected; whereas, if we publish half the proposed number,
    and a second edition is demanded, there may be an opportunity
    of correcting mistakes, and re-touching inaccuracies. May I
    not hope to receive a few hints for a Preface, in which I am
    advised to declare, that, it is my firm resolution to enter no
    farther into the controversy? with this view, that, in case the
    doctrines are attacked, other and abler champions may see a
    clear stage for their entrance.”[217]

    “_July 13._ Here are six ‘Dialogues.’ May God enable you
    to search them, as with a candle, and make them such as He
    will condescend to bless! I have dropped several objections
    and answers; yet, I fear, too many are still retained. A
    multiplicity of objects dissipates the attention either of
    the eye or mind. Are, what the painters call, the two unities
    preserved? one principal action and one grand point of view in
    each piece? Does Theron speak enough, or with such weight, and
    such a spice of the _sal Atticus_, as might suit his character?
    Here and there, a touch of wit or genteel satire in him, I
    think, would be grateful, especially in the first part, before
    he is brought to a conviction of his guilt?” “You can scarcely
    imagine what a demand there is for the book, even before
    publication. It makes me rejoice with trembling. I now feel the
    loss of our valuable friend, Dr. Doddridge, to whose judgment I
    ever paid the highest deference. I expect you will tell me my
    manuscript is very prolix; but I designedly made it so, that my
    friends may judge what is proper to be omitted. It is easier
    you know, to expunge than to compose. I wish they would, with
    a leaden pencil, enclose in a parenthesis what they would have
    dropped. I hope to retrench one-fourth of the copy.”

    _September 28._ I have to request the honour of your name,
    to dignify and recommend my book, which has been, for a
    considerable time, committed to the press. It will, I believe,
    be entitled ‘Theron and Aspasio; or, a Series of Dialogues and
    Letters, upon the most _Important_ and _Interesting_ Subjects.’
    The whole will constitute three volumes. It will, I apprehend,
    make its appearance about the time appointed for the meeting of
    the Parliament; and I know no person whose name will give the
    author more satisfaction, or be a higher recommendation to his
    performance, than your ladyship’s.“[218]

    “_November 24._ You have highly obliged me, in permitting me
    to grace my work with your name. I have been, ever since I
    received your ladyship’s letter, engaged to keep no less than
    eight hands constantly employed in printing, which has taken
    up all my time. Be so kind, madam, as to favour me with your
    advice, whether I should present the book to the princess.[219]
    I must, I apprehend, present it to the prince’s preceptor,[220]
    because he is our diocesan, and treated me in a very genteel
    manner, when I received institution from him. This is the last
    frank I have. Could you, Madam, accommodate me with a fresh
    supply? At this juncture a few of those vehicles would be very
    welcome and serviceable.”[221]

Again, a few days later, to the same lady, Hervey wrote:—

    “To grant my request was obliging; to grant it so speedily
    was like yourself. My hands are still tied by the business
    of the press. You can hardly imagine what obstructions and
    mistakes happen in the process of such a work, especially when
    the author is at a distance from the press. I take it for
    granted your ladyship approves of my presenting the piece to
    the princess, but would you have me attempt to put it into the
    hands of the prince?[222] I question whether the bishop would
    think it a proper book for his royal highness’s collection.
    I dare say Mr. Stone[223] (who, I am told, is the principal
    director of the prince’s conduct), would banish it, not for a
    term of years, but, for ever; and not to the American colonies,
    but to the country of the Hottentots. I dare not expect that
    the bishop himself will like it; but, perhaps, he will dislike
    my practice, if I do not pay him the compliment. When he gave
    us a charge, at his last visitation, he inveighed against
    enthusiasm on the one hand, and profaneness on the other;
    and some of our reverend brethren took notice, that, when
    delivering himself on the former topic, he frequently threw his
    eye upon my friend Hartley and me. However, this I must say, he
    wrote me a very handsome letter, when I presented him with the
    ‘Remarks on Lord Bolingbroke;’ and, in a private letter, which
    I happened to see, expressed no disapprobation concerning the
    ‘Meditations.’”

    “_December 26._ I have a fresh obligation to your ladyship
    for procuring me the opinion of good Dr. Hales.[224] I cannot
    but be pleased with his approbation; but I cannot persuade
    myself, that, the bishop will undertake to present the books,
    or even consent to his royal pupil’s reading them. In case he
    should present them, who knows in what manner he may do it?
    Suppose he should shrug his shoulders, and say, ‘An ambitious
    and conceited clergyman of his diocese, by the importunity
    of request, in a manner, forced him upon this office. How
    ungraceful would the affair appear, and how unsuitable to
    decorum of conduct! Upon the whole, I am in a state of real
    perplexity. I would not seem to slight the Doctor’s opinion,
    much less reject his solicitation; yet, I cannot prevail upon
    myself to think, that, to execute the proposal would be the
    propriety of action. I hope, madam, you will give me your free
    advice, and help to extricate me from this embarrassment, into
    which yourself, yes, you yourself, have led me. For I should
    never have been known to such grand personages, if you had not
    condescended to introduce me. My name had never been heard
    by a royal ear, if it had not received some credit by your
    ladyship’s notice.”[225]

These extracts might be multiplied; but the reader has had sufficient for
the purpose of showing the almost extreme assiduity of Hervey in making
his book correct and popular. Among others, he consulted his old friend
Wesley, who revised the first three “Dialogues,” and “sent them back
with a few inconsiderable corrections.” Hervey replied, “You are not my
friend, if you do not take more liberty with me.” Wesley promised, that,
he would; upon which the manuscripts were again revised; and alterations
were made of a more important character.[226] Whether Wesley, on this
occasion, had used the prerogatives of a _friend_ to a greater extent
than Hervey liked, is a matter which has never been explained; but it is
quite certain, that, when Hervey’s work was nearly ready for the public,
Hervey and Wesley, by some means, had become alienated, and were no
longer the warm-hearted friends they had been in former days. Writing to
Lady Frances Shirley, under the date of January 9, 1755, Hervey says,—

    “Mr. John Wesley takes me very roundly to task, on the score of
    predestination; at which I am much surprised. Because a reader,
    ten times less penetrating than he is, may easily see, that,
    this doctrine (be it true or false) makes no part of my scheme;
    never comes under consideration; is purposely and carefully
    avoided. I cannot but fear he has some sinister design. Put the
    wolf’s skin on the sheep, and the flock will shun him, the dogs
    will worry him. I do not charge such an artifice, but sometimes
    I cannot help forming a suspicion.”

This is a mournful episode. From letters, already printed in the
foregoing pages, it is manifest, that, Hervey, at one period, held Wesley
in the highest affection and esteem; and, that, this was mutual is
evident from the fact, that, as recently as the year 1754, not only had
Hervey twice over requested Wesley to revise his “Theron and Aspasio,”
but, Wesley (at the time an invalid like Hervey) had requested his friend
to revise his “Notes on the New Testament.” Hence the following:—

                                     “WESTON-FAVEL, _June 29, 1754_.

    “DEAR SIR,—I have read your ‘Notes,’ and have returned them
    by the Northampton carrier, and transmitted such observations
    as occur to my mind. I think, in general, you are too sparing
    of your remarks and improvements. Many expositions are too
    corpulent; your’s are rather too lean. May the good hand of
    the Lord be with them and with their author! ‘Bengelius’ is
    likewise returned, with thanks for the use of that valuable
    book. Please to present my affectionate respects to Mr.
    Charles, and desire him, if he has done with ‘Vitringa,’ to
    send it by the same conveyance as brings your parcel. Let me
    beg to be remembered in your prayers, and in his, that, I may
    not dishonour the relation of, dear sir, your brother and
    friend in Christ,

                                                “JAMES HERVEY.”[227]

The two old Oxford friends were now estranged; and, mournful to relate,
their friendship was not renewed till they met in heaven. But more of
this anon.

Hervey’s “Theron and Aspasio” was advertised to be published on February
18, 1755; but he writes, “there are so many unexpected remoras, that, I
dare not answer for its forthcoming, even at the expiration of ten days
more.”

A copy of the “large octavo edition” is before us, in three volumes; pp.
405, 464, and 446; with a dedication, as already intimated, “to the Right
Honourable Lady Frances Shirley.”[228] The following is a copy of “the
Contents”:—

    “Dialogue I. Character of the speakers.—On improving
    conversation.—Elegance and dignity of the Scriptures.

    “Dialogue II. Walk through the gardens.—The beautiful frame
    and beneficial ordination of things.—Preparatory discourse on
    the Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness.—Meaning of the terms
    settled.

    “Dialogue III. Walk through a meadow.—Doctrine of Christ’s
    satisfaction stated.—Considered as a Redemption Price, and
    as a Sacrifice for sin.—Variously typified under the Mosaic
    dispensation.

    “Dialogue IV. Park and romantic mount.—Christ’s death
    further considered, as the very punishment which our sins
    deserved.—Objections, ancient and modern, answered.—The whole
    summed up and improved.

    “Dialogue V. Elegant arbour in the flower-garden.—Imputation of
    Christ’s obedience.—Objections from reason canvassed.

    “Dialogue VI. Gallery of pictures.—Library and its furniture.—A
    sordid taste in painting censured; a more graceful
    manner displayed.—Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness
    resumed.—Objections from Scripture urged and refuted.

    “Dialogue VII. Hay-making.—Pleasures of nature freely
    enjoyed.—Blessings of grace bestowed with equal
    freeness.—Theron’s plan of acceptance with God; consists of
    sincerity, repentance, and good works, recommended by the
    merits of Christ.—This shown to be a false foundation.—No
    such thing as a good work, till we are accepted through the
    Redeemer.

    “Dialogue VIII. Duelling.—Animadversions on the
    practice.—Spirituality and extent of the Divine law.—Infinite
    purity of God.

    “Dialogue IX. Curious summer-house.—No relaxation of the
    Divine law, as to the precept or the penalty.—Its inflexible
    strictness, and principal ends.

    “Dialogue X. Theron’s last effort to demolish the evangelical
    scheme of justification.—Among other objections, more plausible
    and refined than the preceding, he strenuously insists, that,
    faith is our righteousness.—Review of the whole.

    “Dialogue XI. Ruins of Babylon.—Fine passage from Mr.
    Howe.—Depravity and ruin of human nature, as they are
    represented in Scripture.—Applied, with a view to determine the
    yet dubious inquiry.

    “Dialogue XII. Extremely hot day.—A solemn shady bower.—True
    method of deriving benefit from the classics.—The wonderful
    structure and economy of the human body.

    “Dialogue XIII. Walk upon the terrace.—Depravity of human
    nature, laid open and proved from experience.—Uses of the
    doctrine, and its subserviency to the grand point.

    “Dialogue XIV. Theron alone in the fields.—His soliloquy
    on the charms of rural nature.—His reflections on the
    past conferences.—Aspasio reinforces his arguments for
    the Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness.—Recommends
    self-examination, the keeping of a diary, and prayer for the
    enlightening Spirit.—Departs, under an engagement to correspond
    by letter.

    “Letter I. Aspasio opens the correspondence with some important
    articles of duty; designed to facilitate self-examination, and
    promote conviction of sin.

    “Letter II. Theron, convinced of the iniquity of his life,
    and the evil of his heart, sees the necessity of a better
    righteousness than his own.—Desires a further explanation, and
    a fuller proof of the doctrine under debate.

    “Letter III. Aspasio proves the point—from the Liturgy—the
    Articles—the Homilies of the Church of England—and the writings
    of the Fathers.

    “Letter IV. Aspasio re-establishes the tenet, from the
    Scriptures of the Old Testament.

    “Letter V. Aspasio relates a remarkable panic.—Terrors of the
    day of judgment.—Christ’s Righteousness and its Imputation,
    largely demonstrated from the New Testament.

    “Letter VI. Theron takes a cursory view of the habitable
    creation.—Traces the perfections of nature through the earth,
    air, and fire.—Admirable construction, and advantageous
    effects, of these elements.

    “Letter VII. Aspasio takes occasion to display the no
    less admirable perfection of Christ’s Righteousness.—Its
    Principle—Extent—Perseverance.

    “Letter VIII. Aspasio describes a drought.—Majesty and beauty
    of the sun, after a night of rain.—The meritorious excellency
    of Christ’s Righteousness illustrated, from the magnificence
    of His works, and the divinity of His person.

    “Letter IX. Theron’s account of the western cliffs—the wonders
    of the ocean—and the benefits of navigation.

    “Letter X. Aspasio enumerates the much richer benefits
    resulting from the Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness.—Shows
    their happy influence, on holiness of heart, and obedience of
    life.

    “Letter XI. Aspasio exemplifies the last particular; in two
    very memorable instances.—Especially in the conduct of Abraham
    offering up his son Isaac.

    “Letter XII. Aspasio touches upon union with Christ.—How
    described in Scripture.—Its blessed and glorious effects.

    “Dialogue XV. Aspasio revisits Theron.—Theron under anxiety
    of spirit.—Partly to entertain, partly to comfort his friend,
    Aspasio enlarges upon the bounty of the Creator, visible both
    in the animal and vegetable world.—The new convert is slow of
    heart to believe.—Evangelical motives to faith.

    “Dialogue XVI. Harvest scene.—Philenor’s
    gardens.—Statues.—Grove of evergreens.—Nature of true
    faith.—Its sure foundation, and sovereign supports.

    “Dialogue XVII. A river voyage.—The diversified
    prospect.—Comparative happiness.—Advantages of peace.—A
    celebration of the Gospel and its blessings, in a kind of
    rhapsody.—Christ’s Righteousness applied, to every case of
    distress, and every time of need.”

Such is Hervey’s own correct outline of his work. As the reader will
easily perceive, the book is a mixture of theological teaching and scenic
painting, the latter being used, as Hervey himself states, “to soften the
asperities of argument.” His “views of nature” are employed, not as being
essential to the truths which he wished to teach, but rather, to grace
his book with ornament, and to render it more readable. Whether this
ought to be regarded as an excellence or a blemish, Hervey leaves his
readers to determine. He writes,—

    “The author confesses a very peculiar fondness for the amiable
    scenes of creation. It is, therefore, not at all improbable,
    but his excursions on this topic may be of the _diffusive_
    kind, and his descriptions somewhat _luxuriant_. It is hoped,
    however, that, the benevolent reader will indulge him in this
    favourite foible.”

Hervey’s work was one of great importance. Of his “luxuriant
descriptions” nothing need be said, except, that, many of them are
quite equal to those in his “Meditations and Contemplations.”[229]
Nearly all of them, however, might have been entirely omitted without
at all interfering with the principal doctrines which it was the
object of Hervey to teach and vindicate. They are excrescences, though
beautiful,—oases in a doctrinal arena. To many of Hervey’s readers,
they would be the most attractive sections of his book; to others, only
intent on pursuing and mastering the author’s argument, they would be
embellished barriers, and would be skipped.

To Hervey’s doctrines, considered as a whole, orthodox Christians can
take no exception. Wesley observed with perfect justness, “Most of the
grand truths of Christianity are herein explained and proved with great
strength and clearness.”[230] The _crux criticorum_ was Hervey’s peculiar
views of what he called “the imputed righteousness of Christ.” A few
brief extracts will show what he meant.

    “_Aspasio._ Justification is an act of God Almighty’s grace;
    whereby He acquits His people from guilt, and accounts them
    righteous; for the sake of Christ’s righteousness, which was
    wrought out for them, and is imputed to them.

    “_Theron._ Two of your terms want some further explication.
    What do you understand by _Christ’s righteousness_? And what is
    the meaning of _imputed_?

    “_Aspasio._ By _Christ’s righteousness_, I understand, _all_
    the various instances of His _active_ and _passive_ obedience;
    springing from the perfect holiness of His heart; continued
    through the whole progress of His life; and extending to the
    very last pang of His death. By the word _imputed_, I would
    signify, that, this righteousness, though performed by our
    Lord, is _placed to our account_; is reckoned or adjudged by
    God as _our own_. Insomuch, that we may _plead_ it, and _rely_
    on it, for the pardon of our sins; for adoption into His
    family; and for the enjoyment of life eternal.”

Again: _Aspasio_ says,—

    “The nature of justification, and the nature of condemnation
    are two _opposites_, which will mutually illustrate each other.
    What is implied in the condemnation of a sinner? He forfeits
    eternal life, and is doomed to eternal death. What is included
    in the justification of a sinner? It supersedes his obligation
    to punishment, and invests him with a title to happiness. In
    order to the _first_, there must be a remission of sins. In
    order to the _second_, an imputation of righteousness. _Both_
    which are derived from Christ’s mediation on our behalf; and
    _both_ take place, when we are united to that Divine Head.”

_Theron_ answers,—

    “This, I know, is the fine-spun theory of your systematic
    divines. But where is their _warrant_ from Scripture? By what
    authority do they introduce such subtle distinctions?”

    “_Aspasio._ I cannot think the distinction so subtle, or the
    theory so finely spun. To be released from the _damnatory_
    sentence, is one thing; to be treated as a _righteous_ person,
    is evidently another. Absalom was pardoned, when he received
    a permission to remove from Geshur, and dwell at Jerusalem.
    But this was very different from the re-commencement of filial
    duty, and parental endearment. A rebel may be _exempted_ from
    the capital punishment, which his traitorous practices deserve;
    without being _restored_ to the dignity of his former state,
    or the rights of a loyal subject. In _Christianity_ likewise,
    to be freed from the charge of guilt, and to be regarded as a
    righteous person, are two several blessings; really distinct in
    themselves, and often distinguished in Scripture.”

Instances being adduced in proof of this, _Aspasio_ continues,

    “Let me produce one text more,—‘I send thee to turn them from
    darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God; that,
    they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among
    them which are sanctified by faith that is in Me’ (Acts xxvi.
    18). Here Christ distinguishes between _remission of sins_,
    and the _inheritance of the saints_; between the _pardon_ that
    delivers from hell, and the _justification_ that entitles to
    heaven. So that the former does by no means constitute the
    latter; but is connected with it, as a link in the same sacred
    chain; or included in it, as part of the same glorious whole.

    “_Theron._ Admitting your distinction to be just, is not
    the satisfaction, made by the death of Christ, sufficient
    of _itself_ to obtain, both our full pardon, and our final
    happiness?

    “_Aspasio._ Since my friend has started the question, I may
    venture, with all reverence to the divine counsels, to answer
    in the negative; it being necessary, that, the Redeemer of
    man should _obey_, as well as _suffer_, in their stead” (John
    x. 18; Matt. iii. 15; Rom. v. 17). “It should be considered,
    Whether Christ’s sufferings were a complete satisfaction of the
    law? Complete they were with regard to the _penalty_, not with
    regard to the _precept_. A distinction obvious and important.
    From whence arises the following argument; which, for once,
    you will allow me to propose in the _logical_ form. By what
    alone the law was not satisfied; by that alone sinners could
    not be justified: By Christ’s sufferings alone, the law was not
    satisfied. Therefore, by Christ’s sufferings alone, sinners
    could not be justified. But when we join the active with the
    passive obedience of our Lord,—the efficacy of the one, with
    the perfection of the other,—how does our justification stand
    firm, in the _fullest_ sense of the word! We have _all_ that
    the law demands, both for our exemption from the curse, and as
    a title to the blessing.

    “_Theron._ But if we are justified by Christ’s fulfilling
    the law, we are justified by works. So that, before you can
    strike out such a way of salvation, you must _contradict_
    yourself; and, what is more adventurous, you must abolish that
    fundamental principle of the Gospel; ‘By the works of the law,
    shall no flesh be justified.’

    “_Aspasio._ I grant it, _Theron_. We _are_ justified by
    works. But whose? The works of Christ, not our own. And this
    is very far from contradicting ourselves; equally far is
    it from abolishing, what you call the _Gospel-principle_.
    Between the covenant of works, and the covenant of grace,
    this, I apprehend, is the difference: By the former, man was
    indispensably bound to obey, in his _own person_. By the
    latter, the obedience of _his surety_ is accepted, instead
    of his own. The righteousness required by both, is, not
    _sincere_, but _complete_; not proportioned to the abilities
    of fallen man, but to the purity of the law, and the majesty
    of the Lawgiver. By this means, the glory of God as an awful
    sovereign, and the glory of His law as an inviolable system,
    are entirely preserved and illustriously displayed. The
    salvation of sinners, neither clashes with the truth, nor
    interferes with the justice of the supreme Legislator. On the
    contrary, it becomes a _faithful_ and _just_ procedure of the
    most High God, to justify _him that believeth on Jesus_.

    “_Theron._ Farewell then to our own obedience. No more occasion
    for any holiness of life. Fine divinity truly! Should I not
    rather say? Downright Antinomianism!

    “_Aspasio._ No, my friend; Christ came not to destroy the law,
    but to fulfil. He has fulfilled it to the very uttermost, in
    His own person. He has also merited for _us_, and conveys to
    _us_, those supplies of the Spirit, which alone can enable us
    to yield faithful and acceptable obedience.

    “_Theron._ My principal objection is not satisfied. I was
    observing, that, according to _your_ manner of stating the
    affair, salvation is no longer free, but founded upon works.
    They are the works of the law, though Christ performs them. To
    maintain that we are justified by these works, is to confound
    the difference between the law and the Gospel.

    “_Aspasio._ Though we should admit your premises, we cannot
    acquiesce in your conclusion. The same righteousness, by which
    we are justified, is both legal and evangelical. _Legal_, in
    respect to _Christ_, who was made under the law, that He might
    obey all its commands. _Evangelical_, in respect to _us_, who
    work not ourselves, but believe in the great _fulfiller_ of
    all righteousness. We are justified _by_ works, if you look
    forward to our Surety. We are justified _without_ works, if
    you cast a retrospective view on ourselves. The grand reason,
    which inclines some people to reject this comfortable doctrine,
    lies concealed, if not in an absolute disbelief of our Lord’s
    eternal glory and Godhead, yet, in _unsettled_ apprehensions
    of it, or an habitual _inattention_ to it. If our Saviour was
    not really God, it would be a reasonable practice to disavow
    the imputation of His righteousness. Because, upon such a
    supposition, His obedience was no more than bounden duty; in
    which there could not be the least pretence to merit, and which
    could be profitable to none but Himself. Whereas, if we verily
    believe Him to be the Incarnate God, His submission to the law
    becomes an act of _voluntary_ humiliation. Which circumstance,
    together with the _transcendent_ dignity of His person, renders
    His obedience, not meritorious only, but inexpressibly and
    _infinitely_ meritorious.

    “_Theron._ But if Christ’s righteousness, _His very_
    righteousness, be imputed; then, the true believers are
    altogether as righteous as Christ Himself. Whereas, if you
    maintain, that, His righteousness is imputed only _as to its
    effect_, you will keep clear of this rock.

    “_Aspasio._ This, I fear, will be like keeping clear of
    _Scylla_, only to fall foul upon _Charybdis_. What are the
    effects of the Mediator’s righteousness? Pardon of sin,
    justification of our persons, and the sanctification of our
    nature. Shall we say, these effects, these benefits, are
    imputed? To _talk_ of their imputation, I think, is an affront
    to sound sense. All these benefits are not imputed, but
    imparted; they are not reckoned to us, but are really enjoyed
    by us. Yet it does by no means follow, that believers are
    altogether as righteous, as Christ; unless you can prove, that,
    to be the _receiver_ is, in all respects, the same, as to be
    the _Author and Finisher_. The righteousness of Christ arises
    solely from Himself; the source of ours subsists in another.
    Christ’s righteousness is originally and absolutely _His own_;
    whereas, it is made ours in a way of favour, and gracious
    imputation.”

    “_Theron._ But if Christ’s perfect obedience be accounted ours,
    me-thinks, we should have no more need of _pardoning_ mercy
    than Christ Himself.

    “_Aspasio._ Yes; because _before_ this imputation, we were
    sunk in guilt, and dead in sins. Because, _after_ it, we are
    defective in our duty, and in many things offend.

    “_Theron._ Does not this doctrine render the intercession of
    our Saviour _superfluous_? What occasion have _they_ for an
    advocate with the Father, whose righteousness has neither
    blemish nor imperfection?

    “_Aspasio._ They stand in need of an advocate, first, that
    they may be brought home to the _Repairer of their breaches_,
    and made partakers of His righteousness by a living faith.
    Next, that their faith may be preserved, notwithstanding all
    opposition, steadfast and immovable; or rather, may be carried
    on, victorious and triumphant, to the end.

    “_Theron._ You say, ‘Christ performed all that was
    conditionary’; then He _repented_ for us, and _believed_ for us.

    “_Aspasio._ Christ performed whatever was required by the
    covenant of works, both before it was violated, and after it
    had been transgressed. But neither _repentance_ nor _faith_
    was comprehended in this institution. It was not therefore
    necessary, neither indeed was it possible, for our spotless and
    Divine Lord to repent of sin, or believe in a Saviour.

    “_Theron._ However, from what you have advanced, _this_ will
    unavoidably follow—That a man is to be justified, under the
    character of a notorious transgressor of the law; and justified
    under the character of a sinless observer of the law. And what
    is this, but a _glaring inconsistency_?

    “_Aspasio._ Not at all inconsistent, but absolutely needful,
    if we consider those distinct branches of the Divine law, the
    _preceptive_ and the _penal_. Both which, in case of guilt
    already contracted, must necessarily be satisfied. Not at all
    inconsistent, if we take in the _two constituent parts_ of
    justification, the acquittance from guilt, and a title to life.
    The former supposes us to be transgressors of the law; and
    such the highest saints in the world are. The latter requires
    us to be observers of the law; and such must the inheritors
    of heaven be. Much less is this inconsistent, if we consider
    believers in their _personal_ and _relative_ capacity; as they
    are in themselves, and as they are in their Surety. Notorious
    transgressors in themselves, they have a sinless obedience in
    Christ. The consciousness of _that_, will be an everlasting
    motive to humility; the belief of _this_, an inexhaustible
    source of joy.”

In these extracts, the reader has, in Hervey’s own words, a full account
of his doctrine of the imputed righteousness of Christ. All must admit,
his fairness in the putting of Theron’s objections; most will doubt his
successfulness in answering them. His theory, that, the death of Christ
bought the sinner’s pardon, and the righteousness of Christ procured
for the sinner the privileges and rights of justification; or, to speak
more precisely, of adoption into the family of God, was a speculative
distinction, without Scriptural authority, and pregnant with antinomian
heresy. He meant well; but he missed the mark. Wesley was right, when he
said,—

    “‘The imputed righteousness of Christ’ is a phrase not
    scriptural. It has done immense hurt. I have had abundant
    proof, that the frequent use of this unnecessary phrase,
    instead of ‘furthering men’s progress in vital holiness,’ has
    made them satisfied without any holiness at all; yea, and
    encouraged them to work all uncleanness with greediness.”[231]

Hervey’s book created great commotion. It was both attacked and defended;
and was turned to good purpose and to bad. Sandeman, in his “Letters on
Theron and Aspasio,”[232] both approved and disapproved. Cudworth, a
dissenting minister, in his reply to Sandeman,[233] was a warm defender
of his friend, the Church of England rector. Dr. Witherspoon, “Minister
of the Gospel in Beith,” published a pamphlet of 72 pages, in 1756, to
show, that Hervey’s doctrine of justification, by imputed righteousness,
does not weaken the obligations to holiness of life. Besides these, other
pamphlets were issued, on both sides of the dispute; but the only one
which Hervey himself answered, was a tract by his old friend Wesley.
This will be noticed hereafter. Meanwhile, a selection from Hervey’s
voluminous correspondence will furnish the reader with glimpses of this
period of Hervey’s history.

Lady Frances Shirley had given him a hint, that some one wished to make a
present to the author of “Theron and Aspasio.” He replied:—

                                 “WESTON-FAVEL, _February 23, 1755_.

    “My thirst after books is very much allayed. I have bid
    adieu to the curious and entertaining inventions of wit, or
    discoveries of science. My principal attention is now devoted
    to the sacred oracles of inspiration. These I should be glad
    to have in their noblest form and highest perfection; and, I
    find, there is now published a very fine edition of the Hebrew
    Scriptures, by Father Houbigant. Such a present would be
    singularly acceptable, and, I hope, it would be beneficial. I
    do not know the price: though, I fear, it will be costly; as
    it consists of four tomes in folio, and as Hebrew printing is
    uncommonly expensive.”[234]

The next refers to the same subject, and to his being thanked for a copy
of his “Theron and Aspasio,” by Her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales.

    “_March 1._ If what I mentioned be an improper proposal, you
    will have such a kind regard to the unadvised writer, as to
    stifle and suppress his project. My heart is not set on that
    or any other book. As I have the Bible in its pure and sacred
    original, I can dispense with the circumstance of a grand and
    pompous form.

    “I have received a very friendly letter from the bishop;
    and Dr. Hales has transmitted to me the thanks of her royal
    highness. Alas, madam! what good does this do me? Or, if I were
    presented to a deanery, what service would that do me when I
    stand at the great tribunal? Blessed Jesus, let not my poor
    endeavours be rewarded with such chaff! Be Thou glorified; let
    souls be edified; and then _they_ who read, and _he_ who wrote,
    may one day rejoice together.”

The demand for Hervey’s book was such, that, though the first edition
consisted of nearly six thousand copies, a second edition was almost
immediately required. He writes to the Rev. John Ryland:—

    “_March 8._ We have begun another edition, and ventured to
    print three thousand. Any remarks and improvements will
    be extremely welcome; but they must be communicated soon,
    otherwise, perhaps, they cannot take place; for it was proposed
    to begin upon each volume at once; and proceed, by means of
    several hands, and several presses, with great expedition.

    “The Princess of Wales, and my other noble friends, were
    pleased to receive my books, in a very candid and obliging
    manner.”[235]

Seven days later, he wrote again:—

    “_March 15._ The author of the _London Magazine_ has
    taken notice of ‘Theron and Aspasio,’ and, really, in a
    very respectful and honourable manner. My sentence in the
    _Gentleman’s Magazine_ is respited till next month. I know not
    whether the _Monthly Review_ has taken me to task; but this I
    know, that, if God be for us, it matters not who is against
    us.”[236]

Hervey perceived his book would be attacked on the ground, that, his
doctrine of the imputed righteousness of Christ led to Antinomianism;
and he already entertained the idea of writing another work as a sort
of appendix to his former one. Under the date of March 19, 1755, he
observes:—

    “I proposed to have closed the plan of ‘Theron and Aspasio’
    with an explicit and pretty copious treatise on evangelical
    holiness or obedience; and to have shown my true believer
    in his dying moments. If your thoughts should happen to
    take such a turn, be so good as to suggest what you think
    the most advisable and advantageous way of managing this
    important point. This would most effectually stop the mouths
    of Arminians, and be the best security against the abuses of
    Antinomians. I could wish, if it were the Lord’s will, that I
    might live to furnish out one more volume of this kind.”

The sale of “Theron and Aspasio” proceeded with such rapidity, that,
the second edition was made larger than Hervey and his publisher had
originally agreed. Hence the following:—

    “_April 5._ Our new edition goes on at a great rate. They have
    finished very near half of each volume: and my publisher,
    presuming that I should have no objection, took the liberty of
    making the edition consist of 4,000, instead of 3,000, on which
    we had agreed. I suppose he was prompted to do this, by finding
    a call for the piece.”[237]

In revising the work for this second edition, he earnestly asked the
help, not only of John Ryland, the Baptist minister, but of William
Cudworth, the minister of an Independent congregation, in Margaret
Street, London. To the latter, he wrote as follows:—

    “_April 22._ The doctrine, which you approve in my essay, and
    have clearly displayed and fully proved in your own writings,
    is not relished by everybody; no, not by many pious people. I
    take the liberty to send you a couple of letters containing
    objections.[238] I wish you would be so kind as to consider
    them, and, in your _concise_ way, which I much admire, to make
    your remarks upon them. I am not shaken in my opinion by these
    attacks; but I should be glad to deliver it more clearly, and
    establish it more firmly, in another edition.

    “I heartily wish you success in your projected work.[239]
    I assure you, it is my opinion, that, such a book, if well
    executed, will be one of the most valuable services to the
    present age. You will not, I hope, be too hasty. Mr. Wesley has
    huddled over his performance[240] in a most precipitate, and,
    therefore, most imperfect manner. One would think, his aim was,
    not to select the best and noblest passages, but to reprint
    those which came first to hand.”

Cudworth responded to the request of Hervey; and the two henceforward
became ardently attached and confiding friends. This, if it did not
actually create, widened the breach between Hervey and his old adviser,
Wesley. Ten years before, Wesley and Cudworth had come into collision,
by Wesley’s publication of his two Dialogues “between an Antinomian and
his friend;” partly written in answer to a “Dialogue” which Cudworth
himself had published. Wesley, rightly or wrongly, accounted Cudworth
an Antinomian, and spoke of him with a severity which he seldom used.
Cudworth resented this; angry feelings were engendered; and, beyond a
doubt, Hervey’s affection and respect for Wesley were lamentably abated.

The year 1755 was a crisis in the history of the Societies, which had
been founded by the labours of Wesley and his itinerant evangelists.
At a Conference, held at Leeds, three days were spent in discussing
the momentous question, whether the Methodists should separate from
the Established Church. It was on this occasion, that, Charles Wesley
composed and published his famous poetical “Epistle” to his brother.
Hervey heard of this, and wrote as follows:—

    “_1755, July 5._ I have just now read advertised in the
    magazine, the following book, ‘An Epistle from Charles Wesley
    to John Wesley.’ Has your ladyship seen or heard of it? If you
    have, be so good as to inform me of the design and contents. I
    hope, there is no hostility commenced between the brothers. I
    have no connection, nor correspondence with them, but should be
    sorry for such an event.”[241]

Hervey had ceased to write to Wesley; but Wesley wrote to him. Hence the
following:—

                                            “WESTON, _August, 1755_.

    “Pray return Mr. Wesley’s letter. I find, by private
    intelligence, that, he has shown it in London; and has thought
    proper to animadvert upon me, by name, from his pulpit. I am
    inclined to take no notice either of his preaching or his
    writing.

    “My good friend, Mr. Whitefield, is now at my house. He
    purposes to lift up his voice at Northampton, and proclaim the
    acceptable year of the Lord.”[242]

Did Hervey get his “private intelligence” from Whitefield? Probably
he did. It is a curious fact, that, at this very time, there was a
misunderstanding between Wesley and Whitefield, respecting Methodist
affairs at Norwich;[243] and, though there was no breach of friendship,
it is not at all unlikely, that, this and cognate matters would be the
subject of conversation at the meeting which Hervey mentions.

Whitefield was at Weston-Favel on August 30; and here he wrote several
letters, remarking in one of them:—“Mr. Hervey is now writing another
volume, upon Sanctification.” This, of course, was the work which has
been already named; but which was never published. Ten days after
Whitefield’s visit, Hervey described his plan, in a long letter, from
which the following is an extract:—

                                “WESTON-FAVEL, _September 10, 1755_.

    “MY DEAR FRIEND,—I esteem your letters as treasures. Though I
    destroy almost all I receive, every one of yours is preserved.

    “The grasshopper is a burden to me. Every blast blows me down,
    or my continual indisposition and inconceivable languors pierce
    through me. I now hang a swelled face over my paper; occasioned
    only by taking the air yesterday in my chair, and finding a
    sharper atmosphere, than for many weeks I had been accustomed
    to. Pray for me, dear sir, that, established in Christ, and
    strong in His faith, I may be looking for, and hasting to the
    coming of the day of God; when this poor, enervated, crazy
    body, will be made like unto Christ’s glorious body.

    “I live with my mother and sister. Our method is, every morning
    at nine, when we breakfast, to read a verse or two from the
    Bible, and make it the subject of our conversation,” etc., etc.

    “I desire your opinion concerning the plan of my new work;
    which, with a weak hand and desponding heart, I have sketched
    out, though with very little hope of being enabled to execute.

    “The _Plan_ of the Supplement to _Theron_ and _Aspasio_.

    “Pleasure and happiness of Christ’s religion (for I am of the
    same mind with Mr. Marshall, in his Treatise on Sanctification,
    namely, that, we must partake of the comforts of the Gospel,
    before we can practise the duties of the law).—Theron oppressed
    with fears, on account of his numerous sins.—Discouraged with
    doubts on account of his imperfect obedience.—The cordials
    of the Gospel re-administered, with some additional spirit
    and strength.—Objections to assurance of faith, stated,
    discussed, answered.—Vital holiness; its nature, necessity,
    excellency.—Its grand efficient, the blessed Spirit.—Its
    principal instrument, true faith; mixed with which, the
    Scriptures, the Lord’s Supper, prayer, the divine promises, are
    powerful and effectual means; disunited from which, they are
    a dead letter and insignificant ordinances.—The evangelical
    principles of holiness, such as, ‘I beseech you by the mercies
    of God’; ‘Ye are bought with a price’; ‘Ye are the temples
    of the living God’; etc.—All these privileges, though not
    hereditary, yet indefeasible; or the final perseverance of
    the believer.—Our friends part; renew their correspondence;
    Theron desires to glorify the God of his salvation, asks
    advice concerning the best method of family worship, educating
    children, instructing servants, edifying acquaintance.—On each
    of these particulars, Aspasio satisfies his inquiry, enlarges
    on the subject of education, especially of daughters; as that
    seems to be the most neglected, or the proper way of conducting
    it least understood.—Letter on the covenant of grace,
    comprising the substance, and being a kind of recapitulation,
    of the three foregoing volumes.—Aspasio seized with a sudden
    and fatal illness; his sentiments and behaviour in his last
    moments.

    “If, dear sir, you see anything in this plan, that is improper;
    anything that is defective, supply it; and if any thoughts
    occur on any of the topics, be so kind as to suggest them.”

Hervey, certainly, had great encouragement to continue the employment of
his pen. The first edition of “Theron and Aspasio,” as already stated,
consisted of nearly six thousand copies; and the second of four thousand;
and yet, within nine months from the time when the work was first
published, a third edition issued from the press.

No wonder, that, the book obtained the attention of Hervey’s old
friend, Wesley. The first three of the Dialogues had been submitted to
him, in manuscript, for his revision, and he had sent “some important
alterations.” Now he read the whole of Hervey’s work, not only once,
but twice, and says, “I wrote him my thoughts freely, but received no
answer.” This was probably the letter which Hervey mentions, in one of
the foregoing pages, under the date of “August, 1755.” In a little more
than a year afterwards, Wesley wrote again; and this letter, he himself
subsequently published; though, he says,—

    “At the time I wrote, I had not the least thought of making
    it public. I only spoke my private thoughts, in a free, open
    manner, to a friend dear as a brother,—I had almost said, to a
    pupil,—to a son; for so near I still accounted him.”

No doubt this second letter contained the substance of the former one.
There is much in Hervey’s book which Wesley heartily commends: the
chief points of animadversion are two. (1) He begs that Hervey will
lay aside the phrase “the imputed righteousness of Christ,” adding,
“it is not scriptural, it is not necessary, it has done immense hurt.”
Unprejudiced readers must allow that this position is impregnable. Many
of Wesley’s critiques are so brief as to be almost blunt, but they
serve to show that Hervey’s interpretation of scriptural texts, in
support of his favourite idea of the Imputed Righteousness of Christ
is, in many instances, at least, arbitrary and incorrect; and, in all
instances, insufficient for his purpose. To this part of Wesley’s letter
no exception ought to have been taken. True, it destroys the pivot
on which the whole of Hervey’s book is made to turn; but all that is
said is relevant, and there is nothing that is disrespectful. Wesley’s
remarks were pointed, but not intended to be impolite. (2) The other
section of Wesley’s criticisms, while correct in sentiment, are perhaps
hardly pertinent Hervey, to some extent, was undoubtedly a Calvinist;
but he never taught, or held the doctrines of unconditional election and
reprobation. Remembering this, Wesley was scarcely fair in such comments
as the following:—

    “‘The righteousness wrought out by Jesus Christ is wrought out
    for all His people, to be the cause of their justification,
    and the purchase of their salvation. The righteousness is the
    cause, and the purchase.’ So the death of Christ is not so much
    as named! ‘For all His people.’ But what becomes of all other
    people? They must invariably perish for ever. The die was cast
    or ever they were in being. The doctrine to pass them by has—

    “‘Consigned their unborn souls to hell,
    And damned them from their mother’s womb.’

    “I could sooner be a Turk, a deist, yea, an atheist, than
    I could believe this. It is less absurd to deny the very
    existence of God, than to make Him an almighty tyrant.

    “‘The whole world and all its seasons are rich with our
    Creator’s goodness. His tender mercies are over all His works.’
    Are they over the bulk of mankind? Where is His goodness to the
    non-elect? How are His tender mercies over them? His temporal
    blessings are given to them. But are they blessings to them at
    all? Are they not all curses? Does not God know they are? that,
    they will only increase their damnation? Does He not design
    they should? And this you call goodness! This is tender mercy!

    “‘May we not discern pregnant proofs of goodness in each
    individual object?’ No; on your scheme, not a spark of it, in
    this world or the next, to the far greater part of the work of
    His hands.

    “‘This is His tender complaint, They will not come unto me!’
    Nay, that is not the case; they cannot. He Himself has decreed
    not to give them that grace without which their coming is
    impossible.

    “‘The grand end which God proposes in all His favourable
    dispensations to fallen man is to demonstrate the sovereignty
    of His grace.’ Not so: to impart happiness to His creatures is
    His grand end herein. Barely to demonstrate His sovereignty is
    a principle of action fit for the Great Turk, not the Most High
    God.”

If Hervey had taught the doctrines of ultra-Calvinism, such strictures,
though strongly worded, would not have been unjust. But the question is,
did Hervey hold the tenets of unconditional election and reprobation? If
he did, Wesley was not unfair; if otherwise, Wesley’s remarks are not
applicable. Hervey probably clung to the doctrine of election; and, it
may be said, this inevitably involves the doctrine of reprobation; but
there is no evidence that Hervey regarded it in such a light. On this
subject, the man must be allowed to be his own exponent. In a letter,
written to Lady Frances Shirley, immediately after Wesley had sent him
his criticisms on “Theron and Aspasio,” Hervey observes:—

                                       “WESTON, _November 25, 1755_.

    “There is, doubtless, abundance to be said against
    Predestination. And abundance has been said, with great force
    of argument, for its support, and that by men of the most
    eminent learning and exalted piety. As this is the case, and
    as it is not necessary to faith and salvation either that we
    should embrace or that we should reject the doctrine, I think
    we may prudently and safely acquiesce in the advice of a great
    scholar and a great saint: ‘Let a man go to the grammar-school
    of faith and holiness before he enters the university of
    election and predestination,’ I am at the grammar-school; and
    there, perhaps, I shall continue, till I hear the voice from
    heaven, saying, ‘_Come up hither, and I will show thee_ what
    thou couldest not comprehend in the regions below. Madam,
    shall I have the honour of your ladyship for a form-fellow?
    _You_ shall be the head-scholar; only be content to allow us
    your company, and do not leave us for a higher class. Let
    _us_ study the glories of Christ’s person, and the love of
    His heart; let _us_ contemplate His infinite satisfaction and
    everlasting righteousness. May the knowledge of these grand
    doctrines be revealed in our hearts by the blessed Spirit! May
    the faith of these unspeakable privileges comfort our souls,
    purify our affections, and _work by love_! Then we shall, ere
    long, see every dark, mysterious point cleared up to our full
    satisfaction. We shall see, without a veil, the shining and
    adorable perfections of our God. We shall know His unsearchable
    counsels and wonderful ways, _even as we are known_.

    “In the meantime, I would beg leave to decline all controversy.
    I can very freely converse or correspond with persons who
    either adopt or discard Predestination; provided, they will not
    drag in the litigated proposition, and force me to engage in
    disputation. But, if they are determined to obtrude the bone
    of contention, I had much rather remain alone and in silence;
    for, I readily confess, that I am not master of the subject.
    Therefore it would be very unadvised in me to undertake either
    its establishment or refutation.

    “I believe, I must desire your ladyship to return this letter,
    with your free remarks upon it, because I do not know but I
    shall be obliged to explain myself on this subject before
    the public. Because a person,[244] who makes a great figure
    in the religious world, has sent me some critical remarks
    and pretty keen censures on my late work, but inveighs
    particularly against my predestination principles; at which I
    am somewhat surprised, because I have (whatever my sentiments
    are) studiously avoided this peculiarity; I have but barely
    mentioned it, in the apostle’s own words; only in an incidental
    manner; and without explaining, enlarging upon, or inculcating
    it.”

On receiving Wesley’s letter, Hervey wrote to his friend Ryland as
follows:—

    “_1756, November 29._ Herewith, you have the grand attack from
    Mr. Wesley, of which I apprised you some time ago. Examine it
    closely; return it speedily; and, if you please, confute it
    effectually; demolish the battery, and spike up the cannon. I
    have not answered in any shape, and, when I do answer with my
    pen, I propose nothing more than a general acknowledgment, and
    an inquiry, whether he proposes to print his animadversions.”

Wesley’s strictures were printed in 1758; and till then we must leave the
subject.

The only pieces published by Hervey in 1756, were a “Recommendatory
Letter,” prefixed to his favourite book, “Marshall’s Gospel Mystery of
Sanctification”; and a “Preface” to “Jenks’s Meditations,” the latter of
which was reprinted, in two volumes, by Hervey’s expressed desire.[245]
Besides these, however, he preached three sermons, which he subsequently
committed to the press, with the titles,—“The Time of Danger;” “The
Means of Safety” and “The Way of Holiness.”[246]

Hervey’s published sermons are few in number, principally because the
sermons he preached were never written.

    “I have never,” said he, “since I was minister at Weston, used
    written notes; so that all my public Discourses are vanished
    into air; unless the blessed Spirit has left any traces of
    them, on the hearts of the hearers. And, though I have many
    Discourses, that were written before I discontinued the use of
    notes, they are all penned in short-hand, and are intelligible
    to none but the writer. I sometimes speak to my people an hour
    together; but I always blame myself for it. It detains the
    congregation too long. It renders the Discourse tiresome to be
    heard, and almost impossible to be remembered. This is one of
    the inconveniences attending the extempore method of preaching.
    We forget how the time passes away.”[247]

The reason, why he wrote and published the three sermons above mentioned,
he states in a letter to Lady Frances Shirley,—

    “I am inclined,” said he, “to print two or three Sermons,
    preached on the late _Fast-Days_. These, for some particular
    reason, I happened to take down in short-hand. As I have
    seen no Discourses, on this occasion, that were sufficiently
    _evangelical_, I have a strong desire, for the supply of this
    _one_ defect _only_, to appear on the stage.” “Here,” he
    observed to Mr. Ryland, “I shall make a sacrifice of all my
    reputation (if I ever had any), with the elegant and polite;
    and let it go, freely let it go, if any honour may redound to
    the Lord our Righteousness.”

At the time, England was at war with France; and many of the sermons
preached on the day of national humiliation were published; but Hervey
was not satisfied. He writes:—

    “The author pretends to nothing refined or extraordinary;
    he affects neither brilliant thought, nor polished style;
    equally remote from nice criticism and profound learning, his
    Discourses are studiously _plain_, and brought down to the
    level of the meanest capacity. ‘What then is his motive?’ This
    is the very truth. In several of the sermons, published on
    this occasion, the _one thing needful_ seems to be overlooked.
    Christ and His free grace,—Christ and His great salvation,—are
    either totally omitted, or but slightly touched. Till these
    doctrines are generally inculcated, the most eloquent harangues
    from the pulpit, or the most correct dissertations from the
    press, will be no better than a pointless arrow, and a broken
    bow.”

Space forbids giving an outline of Hervey’s sermons.[248] Suffice it
to say, that, they are able and eloquent, and intensely earnest and
faithful. If such were a fair specimen of his pulpit performances,
Hervey’s preaching must have been as remarkable as his writings; and, had
he possessed Whitefield’s voice and elocution, the effects would have
been something marvellous. Mr. Ryland, who visited him at Weston-Favel
twice a year, observes,—

    “He loved simplicity in his _manner_ of preaching. He had no
    complicated and perplexed conceptions; no crowd of thoughts
    to overwhelm his own understanding, or the conceptions of his
    hearers. In all his sermons, you might discern a clear and
    easy arrangement; nothing tedious; no long-winded periods;
    no perplexing parentheses; no tiresome circumlocutions; but
    everything adapted to the weakest memory of his auditors.
    He despised and avoided all boisterous noise,—all rude and
    violent vociferation in the pulpit. His subjects were always
    serious and sublime; they might well be ranged under three
    heads,—Ruin, Righteousness, and Regeneration. He always steered
    a middle course, between a haughty positivity, and a sceptical
    hesitation. He made it an invariable rule to be thoroughly
    convinced of the truth and importance of his subject, before
    he proceeded to state and defend it; but, when he was once in
    possession of a truth, he held it with the greatest fortitude
    and tenaciousness. He considered very minutely the state of all
    his hearers. He did not preach to a promiscuous auditory, as
    though they were all converted to Christ; nor did he treat true
    believers as though they were in an unregenerate state.”

    “He preached without notes,” says his friend, Dr. Stonehouse,
    “excepting that he had before him a small leaf of paper, on
    which were written, in short-hand, the general heads and
    particulars of the sermon, which he sometimes looked at, and
    sometimes not. He was very regular in his plans, nor was he
    very long; from thirty to forty minutes was his usual time;
    rarely longer. His weakness rendering him, for several months
    before his death, incapable of speaking any length of time
    to his congregation, he shortened his discourses, and took a
    most useful method of inculcating his instructions. After he
    had expounded his text, and divided his sermon into two or
    three heads, he would speak briefly, and, at the conclusion
    of each head, enforce what he had said by a pertinent text of
    Scripture, desiring his congregation to turn to their Bibles,
    and double down that text. ‘Now,’ he added, ‘my dear brethren
    if you forget my sermon, you cannot forget God’s word in this
    text, unless you wilfully throw aside your Bibles. Show this
    to your children, or the absent part of your family, when you
    return home.’ Then he gave a striking exhortation, and, at the
    end of it, another text for them to double down; so that they
    always had three texts, in order to their finding of which he
    paused in the pulpit for two or three minutes. This method had
    another good effect; it obliged the generality to bring their
    Bibles along with them, for those who were without Bibles lost
    the benefit of the texts, and were unemployed, while the great
    majority, who had theirs, were busy looking for the texts
    referred to in the sermon.”

    “My acquaintance with Mr. Hervey,” writes the Rev. Dr. Haweis,
    “was only of one day. He was removing from his ministerial
    labours, just as I was ready to enter upon mine; and, being
    very desirous of seeing him before his departure to glory, I
    rode from Oxford to Weston-Favel, a distance of about fifty
    miles, for that purpose. I found him tall and much emaciated.
    His preaching was purely evangelical, and very similar to his
    writings, in beautiful comments on the Scriptures he quoted;
    but his manner of delivery, in the tone of voice and action,
    far from the elegance I expected. His church was very small;
    and, though full, was not remarkably crowded; but the people
    were very attentive to hear him.”

These are mere glimpses of Hervey as a preacher; but they are of some
importance, as being furnished by those who saw and heard him.

Hervey had become famous, and some of his friends wished for a formal
recognition of the fact. The following refers to this, and also to
Wesley’s strictures on his “Theron and Aspasio”:—

    “Now for the affair, relating to Mr. Ogilvie’s proposal.
    Tell our amiable and benevolent friend, that, I am deeply
    sensible of his kindness; but I must beg of him to lay aside
    all thoughts of procuring for me so undeserved a distinction.
    I assure you, it would make me blush, and give me much
    uneasiness, to be addressed under the character of _doctor_.
    Never, no never, should I have taken as much as a _master’s_
    degree, if I had not been obliged to it, in order to hold what
    we call ecclesiastical preferment. Preferment? Yes, if rightly
    understood, it is rightly so called. For what can be a more
    honourable or exalted office, than to labour for Christ? O that
    my brethren and I may always understand the word _preferment_
    in this truly precious and noble sense!

    “It is a great uncertainty, whether I shall be enabled to
    add another volume. I am told, a very formidable attack
    is going to be made upon ‘Theron and Aspasio,’ by a hand
    not well affected to the imputed righteousness of our Lord,
    but remarkably zealous for the inherent righteousness and
    _perfection_ of man.”[249]

In this world, no man basks in unclouded sunshine. Upon the whole, the
reviews of Hervey’s “Theron and Aspasio,” had been favourable; those of
his later publications[250] had been otherwise.

    “Have a care,” he wrote, in a letter, dated November 21, 1757,
    “Have a care, you do not depreciate your works by inserting
    anything of mine. My poor character is going to execution.
    The Reviewers have already put the halter about its neck; if,
    therefore, you would obtain distinction, or are a candidate
    for fame, stand clear and detached from such a contemptible
    scribbler.”

Besides this, he suffered increasingly from enfeebled health.

    “Incessant and insuperable languors,” he wrote, “unfit me for
    every business; render every enjoyment unrelishing; and, what
    is more deplorable, make my temper like the sore, inflamed,
    ulcerated flesh. Anything that comes unexpected, alarms me;
    anything that goes cross, vexes me: I am sadly inclined to a
    peevish humour.”

In another letter, belonging to the same period, he writes:—

    “I beg, I entreat you, if you value the honour of the Gospel,
    that, you will dissuade those polite persons you mention,
    from coming to hear me to-morrow. My spirits sink more and
    more, I am visited with some returns of my hacking cough;
    perhaps I shall not be able to speak at all. Such disagreeable
    circumstances will only expose me, and create in them very
    unpleasing ideas of what I shall deliver. My imagination
    is gone. I am sensible my sermons are flat, and my voice
    spiritless. The poor country people love me tenderly, and,
    therefore, bear with my infirmities; else, I should no longer
    attempt to preach, even before them. I am now unfit to appear
    in the pulpit.”

In the midst of all this, Hervey commenced the rebuilding of his
parsonage; and, besides the vexations usually connected with such
undertakings, he had to suffer the annoyance of the builder, with
which he had contracted, decamping, before the erection was completed,
and exposing poor Hervey to the worry of being dunned by the rogue’s
disappointed creditors.[251]

Hervey was more sensitive than he thought he was; and the combined
circumstances just mentioned painfully affected him. In the excitement of
his feelings, he began to prepare a shilling pamphlet, in reply to the
_Critical Review_, which had designated Jenks’s Meditations “ridiculous
and enthusiastic.” With greater vulgarity than refinement, they had been
described “like hairs on the greasy coat of a groom, or like dish-water
thrown down the kennel.” Malevolence like this was too contemptible to be
noticed; and, yet, Hervey put himself to considerable inconvenience in
writing, “Ned Dry’s Apology for the Critical Reviewers,”—a pamphlet which
he intended to be a satirical castigation of his nameless opponents,
as well as a vindication of Mr. Jenks and of himself. It was a mistake
to notice anonymous revilers at all; and it was an additional mistake
for Hervey to attempt to compose a satire. His mind was too exquisitely
refined, and his soul too loving, to succeed in literary flagellation. He
was himself in doubt respecting this, and wrote to Mr. Ryland as follows:—

    “I have not had the pleasure of seeing the _Critical Review_
    for December; but, I find, from the advertisements in the
    public papers, that they take Mr. Jenks and his recommender to
    task. I am not disappointed; I expected no quarter from them.

    “You would smile, and be a little surprised, if you were to
    see what employed my spare hours almost all last week. I never
    had such an inclination for buffoonery in all my life. It
    was occasioned by the unworthy and abusive treatment which
    the Reviewers bestow upon all the most valuable writers that
    appear in public; and, I verily think, if their insolence can
    be curbed, it must be done in obedience to that command of
    unerring wisdom, ‘Answer a fool according to his folly.’”

Again;—

    “My friends, who have seen the piece, absolutely disapprove
    of it. Dr. Stonehouse says, it is a low, dull, spiritless
    thing; that, I am no more fit for such kind of writing than a
    carrier’s horse to run a race. He read it, he tells me, to some
    ingenious ladies, who have a regard for my character; and they
    declared, they would come over to Weston, and would, upon their
    knees, (if it were needful,) solicit me not to publish it.
    Amidst such a diversity of opinions, how shall I determine?”

Again;—

    “I have sent you Mr. Dry’s apology; though it is written, it
    has been thrown aside. I have several doubts, whether my pen
    carries any edge, and whether the edge, if there is any, be
    like the saw, or the razor. Is it of the former kind? Then it
    will not answer my purpose, and will not gall and check the
    adversaries of Christ and His servants, but will give them
    occasion to triumph more extravagantly. I have also some doubt,
    whether this kind of writing suits my character, as a minister
    of Jesus Christ. Is it not the Εὐτραπελία which the apostle
    condemns and banishes from the conversation of Christians?
    The principal reason to justify such a manner of address is,
    that no other method seems to have the least probability of
    succeeding. All that is solid, these men will evade with a
    sneer; and all that is serious, they will turn into burlesque.
    Ridicule is the only vein in which they will bleed.”

Nothing more need be added, except, that, though “Ned Dry’s Apology for
the Critical Reviewers,” was written, it was never published.

Troubles often come in troops. In 1757, Mr. Robert Sandeman published his
“Letters on Theron and Aspasio,” in two volumes,—a work already noticed
in the biography of Ingham. Concerning this, Hervey writes as follows:—

                                    “WESTON-FAVEL, _August 6, 1757_.

    “The author is a Scotchman, I presume, because the two volumes
    were printed at Edinburgh, and he gave orders for a set to
    be sent me from Edinburgh. He conceals his name, and none
    that I am acquainted with are able to discover whose work it
    is. There are some strictures on my performance; but by far
    the greatest part of the book is very wide from this mark.
    Some things are truly excellent; and some animadversions upon
    me are perfectly just; but others (if I mistake not) are
    unfair and disingenuous. The manner of writing is by no means
    despicable,—rather elegant and spirited, than coarse or dull.
    But there is such an implacable bitterness of spirit, and such
    an unchristian virulence of censure, against many of the best
    men that ever lived, and best authors that ever wrote, as much
    surprises and greatly offends me. I think I never saw a notion
    of faith more lax, nor an idea of grace more exalted, than in
    this book.”

Sandeman’s “Letters” created a great sensation;[252] but Hervey had
neither strength nor time to answer them. He was about to measure swords
with an opponent far more noted than Mr. Sandeman, and left the latter in
the hands of his friend, Mr. Cudworth, who, immediately after Hervey’s
death, issued “A defence of Theron and Aspasio against the Objections
contained in a late Treatise, entitled ‘Letters on Theron and Aspasio.’
To which is prefixed, a series of Letters from Mr. Hervey to the author,
authenticating this Defence with his entire approbation, and manifesting
it to be the only one that can be presented to the public with that
authority.” pp. 224.

Perhaps the title was more ostentatious than facts would justify; but,
still, there can be no doubt, that Hervey was perfectly cognisant of a
correspondence between Cudworth and Sandeman, and, that, in the main, he
approved of Cudworth’s sentiments. Only three weeks before his death, he
wrote to Cudworth as follows:—

    “Excuse me for keeping your MS. so long. I have been extremely
    ill. This morning I have been up for four hours, and, in
    all that time, not able to look into a book, or hold up my
    head. I fully assent to your opinions; and think you have
    proved the warrant of a sinner’s application of Christ very
    satisfactorily. If I live, I should much desire a copy of this
    your correspondence, when you have revised and finished it. Or
    do you intend to print it?”

Hervey now devoted his dying energies to the task of writing a reply
to the animadversions of his old friend Wesley. Their friendship was
beclouded; and it is a mournful fact, that, the few last months of
Hervey’s lovely life were spent in fighting one, who, a quarter of a
century before, had been the greatest of his human oracles. He writes,—

                                                 “_1758, January 3._

    “Weak I am, very weak, and much out of order; insomuch, that I
    have not been able to go to church since Christmas. Mr. Wesley
    is angry with me, for speaking too much, and, as he thinks,
    too openly on the side of election and particular redemption.
    Pray favour me with your free opinion, and wherever you think
    he charges me justly, or I have expressed myself improperly,
    spare not to speak the naked truth. He has lately published
    a large book, price six shillings, stitched, on the doctrine
    of Original Sin; great part of which is an abridgment of Dr.
    Watts’s Ruin and Recovery; and of another treatise, written
    by Mr. Hebden. In this, he takes occasion to quote two or
    three passages from Theron and Aspasio, one of which he thus
    introduces,—‘To explain this a little further, in Mr. Hervey’s
    words, By federal head I mean, that, as Adam was the first
    general representative (of _this kind_, says Aspasio, but Mr.
    Wesley makes him say) _of mankind_, Christ was,’ etc. He goes
    on to the bottom of the page, then turns back to the upper
    part, and represents me as forming a conclusion in these
    words, ‘All these expressions demonstrate, that, Adam, as
    well as Christ, was a representative of _all mankind_;[253]
    and, that, what he did, in this capacity, did not terminate
    in himself, but affected all whom he represented.’ This is
    a very injurious representation. One sentence is a palpable
    misquotation. Would it be proper to take any notice of it! I am
    sometimes apprehensive, that, he would draw me into a dispute
    about particular redemption. I know, he can say startling and
    horrid things on this subject; and this, perhaps, might be the
    most effectual method to prejudice people against my principal
    point.”

Hervey’s suspicion was unfounded and ungenerous; but let it pass. His
eyes, as far as Wesley was concerned, were now unfortunately jaundiced.
Besides, he was, at present, extremely ill; in fact, it was currently
reported that he was dead. “I do not go out of my room,” he wrote
on January 21st, “till dinner time, and then it is rather to see my
relations, than to take refreshment myself.” And again, in another
letter, dated the 12th of March, he states, that, he had “not been at
church since Christmas.” Still, he was not inactive. The following are
extracts from his letters to Mr. Ryland.

    “_Saturday Morning, January, 1758._ I am transcribing my
    intended answer to Mr. Wesley for the press, but find it
    difficult to preserve the decency of the gentleman, and the
    meekness of the Christian. There is so much unfair dealing
    running through my opponent’s objections, and the most
    magisterial air all along supplies the place of argument.
    Pray for me, dear friend, that I may not betray the blessed
    cause, by the weakness of my reasoning, nor dishonour it by
    the badness of my temper. Whether I shall be able to finish
    this work, is apparently uncertain. My cough seizes me, in the
    night, like a lion; and leaves me, before the morning, weaker
    than a babe. It has so totally destroyed my small remainder of
    strength, that, I am quite unable to preach so much as once on
    the Lord’s day. I am obliged to beg assistance, and am looking
    out for a curate, to take the whole business on his hand.”

                                             “WESTON, _March, 1758_.

    “I am transcribing, though very slowly, and with a most feeble
    hand, my remarks, ‘on Mr. Wesley,’ for the press. He urges no
    argument, either to establish his own opinion, or to overthrow
    mine; only denies the validity of my reasons.”

It is a curious fact, that, Wesley’s strictures on “Theron and Aspasio”
had not yet been printed; so that, Hervey was employed in preparing an
answer to what existed only in manuscript. Even as late as the 4th of
March, 1758, Hervey, writing to a friend, observes:

    “I have a long letter, containing two or three sheets, from
    Mr. Wesley. It consists of animadversions on my Dialogues and
    Letters. He wrote me one before, more stinging and sarcastic
    than this. I have taken no notice of either, being very
    unwilling to embark in controversy.”

Perplexity is here. Wesley had written twice to Hervey, criticising
“Theron and Aspasio.” Hervey was obviously offended at Wesley’s
abruptness, and, as Hervey believed, dogmatism. Of course, remembering
their former friendship, Wesley expected a reply; but, for some reason,
Hervey, almost unexceptionally gentle and courteous, resolved to maintain
a sort of sullen silence. As yet, Wesley’s critique was not printed;
it was simply a _private_ letter. Hervey was apparently as unfit for
controversy as he professed to be averse to it: in fact, he was actually
dying; and, yet, the tremulous energies of the dying man were exerted
to the utmost, in preparing an answer to Wesley’s _private_ letter, not
to be sent to Wesley himself, but to be committed to the press. Why was
this? If Wesley’s letter was _wholly private_, why should Hervey answer
it in _public_? He had a right to feel grieved, to be offended, and,
if not discourteous, to refuse writing a reply; but was it fair that,
without consulting Wesley, he should resolve to _publicly_ answer a
_private_ communication, even though that communication was not in the
most complaisant language? Wesley’s second letter was dated, October 15,
1756, so that, Hervey had now had it in his possession for nearly a year
and a half; and, as his correspondence proves, had shown it to several of
his friends. Why did he, at the commencement of 1758, when his health had
entirely failed, begin to answer a letter, which, for fifteen months, he
had treated with silent sullenness? Was he instigated by Mr. Cudworth,
who, at the same time, was in diligent correspondence with Mr. Sandeman?
Or had Wesley been so annoyed, by Hervey’s contemptuous silence, as
to make his letter the subject of conversation among his friends, and
Hervey having heard, that, what had been a private communication was now
becoming the subject of public observation, was so extremely sensitive,
and so afraid of tarnished honour, that, he unadvisedly resolved to
print a public answer, and employed his dying days in writing it? It
is impossible to answer these questions with certainty. Opinions will
differ. Two holier men than Wesley and Hervey did not live; but, by a
most painful misunderstanding, they were now estranged. Which of them was
blamable? Was either? or were both?

Wesley disliked Hervey’s doctrine of the imputed righteousness of Christ,
and he told him so;—a thing which, as a friend, he had a perfect right
to do. If he erred at all, it was in using a brusque abruptness, the
very opposite of the sort of style usually employed by Hervey, and which
was undoubtedly somewhat grating to a sensitive mind like his. Still,
even this may be excused. Wesley was without “learned leisure.” Bearing
in mind the incessant duties of his itinerant life, the wonder is,
how he found time to write at all. Perforce of circumstances, as well
as by deliberate choice, his style of writing was always concise, and
frequently abrupt. Besides, in this instance, he was writing, not for the
public, but privately to a friend.

    “It is no wonder,” says he, “that, several of my objections, as
    Mr. Hervey observes, ‘appear more like notes and memorandums,
    than a just plea to the public.’ It is true. They appear like
    what they are, like what they were originally intended for. I
    had no thought of ‘a plea to the public’ when I wrote, but of
    ‘notes and memorandums to a private man.’”[254]

One cannot but lament, that, they were not thus regarded. In such a case,
an unseemly and unhappy controversy would have been avoided. For want
of confidence, and a frank and friendly explanation, the two old and
warm-hearted friends were alienated from each other. Hervey submitted
Wesley’s private letter to the inspection of friends who had no right to
see it; Wesley, perhaps, yea probably, heard of this, and made it the
subject of remark; Hervey, increasingly irritated, began to write an
answer; and now Wesley, in an unlucky moment, published what, up to the
present, had been a _private_ letter. Hence the following, by Hervey, to
a friend, perhaps Cudworth:—

                                     “WESTON-FAVEL, _June 23, 1758_.

    “I little thought, when I put Mr. Wesley’s manuscript into
    your hand, that I should see it in print so soon. I took very
    little notice of it, and let it lie by me for several months,
    without giving it an attentive consideration. It seemed to
    me so palpably weak, dealing only in positive assertions and
    positive denials, that, I could not imagine he would adventure
    it into the world, without very great alterations. But it is
    now come abroad, just as you received it, in a two shillings’
    pamphlet, entitled, ‘A Preservative from Unsettled Notions in
    Religion.’ Of this pamphlet, what he has wrote against me,
    makes only a small part. Now then, the question is, Whether I
    shall attempt to answer it? Give me your opinion, as you have
    given me your assistance. Ill I have been, and ill I am; torn
    almost to pieces by a cough in the night, which admits of no
    remedy; whatever is taken to assuage, exasperates it. Of all
    men living, that are not absolutely confined, surely I am the
    weakest. If by such weakness, the Lord Jesus will vouchsafe
    to glorify His name, how transparent, how effulgent, will be
    the glory of His power! Blessed be the Lord, for setting our
    affections on a happier state! Blessed be His grace, for giving
    us some knowledge of Jesus, as the way to immortal mansions!
    There we may be citizens; here only sojourners.”

Hervey not only wrote his answer; but, unfortunately, he submitted it,
for revision, to Mr. Cudworth, between whom and Wesley, for several
years, Christian charity was nearly at zero. Most of Hervey’s manuscript
was sent to Cudworth during the three months, next succeeding the date of
the foregoing letter.

    “I apprehend,” writes Hervey, “that the piece will make a
    two-shilling pamphlet. I must entreat you to get time for the
    revisal of all of it. If you could suggest or insert anything
    to make it edifying and useful, I should be glad. Would it not
    be proper to print Mr. Wesley’s letter, and prefix it to my
    answer?”

Hervey’s reply to Wesley was completed in September. A month afterwards,
he wrote as follows:—

                                        “WESTON, _October 19, 1758_.

    “I am now so very ill, that, I scarce think I shall live to
    see the approaching Christmas. I spend almost all my time in
    reading and praying over the Bible. Indeed, indeed, you cannot
    conceive how the springs of life are relaxed and relaxing.
    ‘What thou doest, do quickly,’ is for me a proper admonition,
    as I am so apprehensive of my approaching dissolution.”

Ill as he was, however, his mind was, at least, occasionally occupied
with his controversial pamphlet, which, though written, was still under
the revision of his friends. Five days after the date of the preceding
extract, he says:—

    “Let me repeat my thanks for the trouble you have taken,
    and for the assistance you have given me, in relation to my
    controversy with Mr. Wesley. He is so unfair in his quotations,
    and so magisterial in his manner, that, I find it no small
    difficulty to preserve the decency of the gentleman, and the
    meekness of the Christian, in my intended answer. May our
    Divine Master aid me in both these instances, or else not
    suffer me to write at all.”[255]

A fortnight later, he wrote again:—

                                  “WESTON-FAVEL, _November 7, 1758_.

    “I am now reduced to a state of infant weakness, and given over
    by my physician. My grand consolation is to meditate on Christ;
    and I am hourly repeating those heart-reviving lines of Dr.
    Young, in his Fourth Night.

    “‘This, only this, subdues the fear of death:—
    And what is this? Survey the wondrous cure:
    And, at each step, let higher wonder rise!
    Pardon for infinite offence!’ etc.

    “These amazingly comfortable lines, I dare say, you will
    treasure up in your heart; and, when you think of them, will
    think of me. Dear sir, pray for me, that, I may not disgrace
    my ministry, or dishonour the gospel of my Master, in my last
    moments, by unbelief—base, provoking unbelief. This probably
    is the last time you will ever hear from me: for, indeed, it
    is with some difficulty I have written this; but I shall not
    fail to remember you, in my intercession for my friends, at the
    throne of Christ.”

The following letter, though long, is too important to be withheld:—

                                       “LONDON, _November 29, 1758_.

    “DEAR SIR,—A week or two ago, in my return from Norwich, I met
    with Mr. Pierce of Bury, who informed me of a conversation,
    which he had a few days before. Mr. Cudworth, he said, then
    told him, ‘that, he had prevailed on Mr. Hervey to write
    against me, who likewise, in what he had written, referred to
    the book, which he (Mr. Cudworth) had lately published.’

    “Every one is welcome to write what he pleases concerning me.
    But would it not be well for you to remember, that, before
    I published anything concerning you, I sent it to you in a
    private letter?—that, I waited for an answer several months,
    but was not favoured with one line?—that, when at length I
    published part of what I had sent you, I did it in the most
    inoffensive manner possible; in the latter end of a larger
    work, purely designed to _preserve_ those in connection with
    me from being tossed to and fro by various doctrines? What,
    therefore, I may fairly expect from my friend, is, to mete to
    me with the same measure:—to send to me first, in a private
    manner, any complaint he has against me;—to wait as many
    months;—and, if I give you none, or no satisfactory answer,
    then to lay the matter before the world, if you judge it will
    be to the glory of God.

    “But, whatever you do in this respect, one thing I request of
    you. Give no countenance to that insolent, scurrilous, virulent
    libel, which bears the name of William Cudworth. Indeed, how
    you can converse with a man of his spirit, I cannot comprehend.
    O leave not your old well-tried friends! The new is not
    comparable to them. I speak not this because I am _afraid_ of
    what any one can say or do to _me_; but I am really concerned
    for _you_. An evil man has gained the ascendant over you; and
    has persuaded a dying man, who had shunned it all his life,
    to enter into controversy as he is stepping into eternity!
    Put off your armour, my brother! You and I have no moments to
    spare. Let us employ them all in promoting peace and good-will
    among men. And may the peace of God keep your heart and mind in
    Christ Jesus! So prays,

                “Your affectionate brother and servant,

                                                   “J. WESLEY.”[256]

This was Wesley’s last letter to Hervey; the following, written three
weeks later, was Whitefield’s:—

                                       “LONDON, _December 19, 1758_.

    “And is my dear friend indeed about to take his last flight?
    I dare not wish your return into this vale of tears; but our
    prayers are constantly ascending to the Father of our spirits,
    that, you may die in the embraces of a never-failing Jesus, and
    in all the fulness of an exalted faith. Oh when will my time
    come! I groan in this tabernacle, being burdened; and long to
    be clothed with my house from heaven.

    “Farewell! My very dear friend, F-a-r-e-w-e-l-l! Yet a little
    while, and we shall meet,

    “‘Where sin, and strife, and sorrow cease,
    And all is love, and joy, and peace.’

    “There Jesus will reward you for all the tokens of love which
    you have showed, for His great name’s sake, to

            “Yours most affectionately, in our common Lord,

                                                    “G. WHITEFIELD.”

    “P.S.—God comfort your mother and relations, and thousands and
    thousands more that will bewail your departure!”[257]

The following, it is believed, are Hervey’s last letters,—the first to
Mr. Cudworth; the second to Lady Frances Shirley:—

                                               “_December 15, 1758._

    “DEAR MR. CUDWORTH,—I am so weak, I am scarce able to write my
    name.

                                                        “J. HERVEY.”

                                 “WESTON-FAVEL, _December 16, 1758_.

    “MADAM,—I have received your ladyship’s favour, and should have
    answered it before now; but I have been extremely ill, and
    still remain so bad, as to be obliged to make use of the pen of
    another, to inform your ladyship, that I am,

“Madam, your ladyship’s most obliged, and most obedient, humble servant,

                                                        “J. HERVEY.”

Nine days afterwards, Hervey was a corpse. To his curate, the Rev.
Abraham Maddock, he observed,—

    “O! how much Christ has done for me; and how little have I
    done for Him! If I preached even once a week, it was at last
    a burden to me. I have not visited the people of my parish as
    I ought to have done, I have not taken every opportunity of
    speaking for Christ. But, do not think, that, I am afraid to
    die; I assure you I am not. I know what my Saviour hath done
    for me, and I want to be gone.”

On December 20th, being visited by his friend Dr. Stonehouse, he
remarked,—

    “True, doctor, true; the only valuable treasures are in heaven.
    What would it avail me now to be Archbishop of Canterbury?
    Disease would show no respect to my mitre. The Gospel is
    offered to me, a poor country parson, the same as to his
    grace. Christ makes no difference between us. Oh! why then do
    ministers neglect the charge of so kind a Saviour, fawn upon
    the great, and hunt after worldly preferments with so much
    eagerness, to the disgrace of our orders? These, these are the
    things, not our poverty or obscurity, which render the clergy
    so justly contemptible to worldlings. No wonder, the service
    of our Church, grieved I am to say it, is become such a formal
    lifeless thing, since it is, alas! too generally executed by
    persons dead to godliness in all their conversation; whose
    indifferent religion, and worldly-minded behaviour proclaim the
    little regard they pay to the doctrines of the Lord, who bought
    them.”

The day before his death, in walking across his room, he fainted, and, to
all appearance was dead. On reviving, his brother William said, “We were
afraid you were gone”; to which he answered, “I wish I were.” And well he
might, for, besides the utter exhaustion of his strength, his bones were
so intensely sore, that, he shrank from the touch of his attendants, when
it was necessary to alter his position; but, in the midst of weakness
and of pain, he was unceasingly praising God for His boundless mercies,
and never received even a piece of lemon to moisten his parched mouth,
without uttering thanks.

On December 25, the day he died, he complained of a great inward
conflict, and, as he sat in his easy chair, (for he was not able to lie
in bed,) almost constantly had his eyes lifted towards heaven, and his
hands clasped in prayer. “O let me spend,” said he, “my last few moments
in adoring our great Redeemer! ‘Though my flesh and my heart fail me,
yet, God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.’” He
then proceeded to expatiate on the words of St. Paul, “All things are
yours,—life and death,—for ye are Christ’s.”

    “Here,” said he, “is the treasure of a Christian. Death is
    reckoned in this inventory. How thankful am I for death. It
    is the passage through which I pass to the Lord and giver
    of eternal life. It frees me from all this misery which I
    now endure, and which I am willing to endure, as long as God
    thinks fit. These light afflictions are but for a moment; and
    then comes an eternal weight of glory. O! welcome, welcome
    death! Thou mayest well be reckoned among the treasures of the
    Christian. To live is Christ, but to die is gain.”

Being raised a little in his chair, he exclaimed, “Lord, now lettest
Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy Word; for mine eyes
have seen Thy salvation.” “Here,” he continued, “is my cordial. What are
all the cordials given to support the dying, in comparison of that which
arises from the promises of salvation by Christ? This, this supports me.”

About three o’clock in the afternoon, he remarked, “The great conflict
is over. Now all is done:” after which the only words he articulated
intelligibly were, “Precious salvation.” Between the hours of four and
five on Christmas-Day, 1758, James Hervey tranquilly fell asleep, in the
forty-fifth year of his age.

Three days afterwards, his body was buried under the Communion table of
Weston-Favel Church, in the presence of a large congregation. By his own
desire, the pall used, on the occasion, was that employed in covering the
coffins of his poor parishioners. Deep was the distress of the assembled
crowd. Some wept in silence; others sobbed; and others were even more
violently affected. The devout Rector was where “the wicked cease from
troubling, and the weary are at rest.”

Funeral sermons were preached, and printed, in London, by Romaine, the
Lecturer of St. Dunstan’s; and by Cudworth, the dissenting minister, in
Margaret Street. Charles Wesley, also, poured out the affection of his
lyric soul, in one of his glowing hymns, from which the following stanzas
are extracted:—

    “He’s gone! the spotless soul is gone
      Triumphant to his place above;
    The prison walls are broken down,
      The angels speed his swift remove,
    And, shouting, on their wings he flies,
    And _Hervey_ rests in Paradise.

    “Redeemed by righteousness divine,
      In God’s own portraiture complete,
    With brighter rays ordained to shine.
      He casts his brown at Jesu’s feet,
    And hails Him sitting on the throne,
    For ever saved by grace alone.

    “Father, to us vouchsafe the grace
      Which brought our friend victorious through;
    Let us his shining footsteps trace,
      Let us his steadfast faith pursue,
    Follow this follower of the Lamb,
    And conquer all through Jesu’s name.

    “In vain the Gnostic tempter tried,
      With guile, his upright heart to’ ensnare;
    His upright heart the fiend defied:
      No room for sin when Christ was there;
    No need of _fancied_ liberty,
    When Christ had made him truly free.

    “Free from the law of sin and death,
      Free from the Antinomian leaven,
    He led his Master’s life beneath,
      And, labouring for the rest of heaven,
    By active love, and watchful prayer,
    He showed his heart already there.

    “How full of heaven his latest word!
      ‘Thou bidd’st me now in peace depart;
    For I have known my precious Lord,
      Have clasped Thee, Saviour, in my heart,
    My eyes Thy glorious joy have seen,’
    He spake, he died, and entered in.”

The principal facts in Hervey’s life have been narrated; and eulogy is
not needed. His devout and loving piety has been amply illustrated in
the numerous extracts from his letters. In learning, he was inferior to
few. His acquaintance with the Latin authors was extensive; and it was
one of his peculiarities, when he was called to tea, to bring with him
his Hebrew Bible or Greek Testament, and lovingly instruct the members
of his family, from the sacred text. His kindness to the poor was only
bounded by his means. Private fortune he had none; and, after the payment
of his curate, his church emoluments were small; but all the profits
arising from the sale of his books,—no inconsiderable sum,—were devoted
to the cause of charity; and one of his last directions was, that all
future profits should be constantly applied to the same sacred purpose.
As the master of a family, his example was worthy of imitation. Twice a
day his domestics were summoned for holy worship. At nine every night,
he spent about a quarter of an hour in expounding a text of Scripture,
and concluded with a prayer. At eight next morning, each of his servants
was required to repeat the text of the previous evening, when he gave a
summary of his exposition, and again engaged in prayer. As a friend, he
was affectionate and faithful. “Though always ill,” said Dr. Stonehouse,
“Hervey was always cheerful.” “I am always weak and ill,” he himself
remarked; “half dead while I live; yet my spirit rejoices in God my
Saviour.” His religion, however, led him to live a life of comparative
retirement. The gentlemen of his neighbourhood showed him great respect;
but he was seldom among their table guests; observing, “I can hardly name
a polite family where the conversation ever turns on the things of God. I
hear much frothy chit-chat; but not a word of Christ. And I am determined
not to visit those companies where there is not room for my Master as
well as for myself.”

His ministerial duties were all performed with the greatest strictness.
Few of his sermons have been printed,[258] for the simple reason, that,
except in outline and in shorthand, few were written; but, in the pulpit,
he was always earnest, fervent, and affectionate, and often eloquent. He
spake, because he believed and felt. Besides his Sunday preaching, he set
up a week-night lecture; catechized the children; and, to the utmost of
his ability, visited the homes of his parishioners. “Mr. Hervey,” said
the Rev. Henry Venn, “was the most extraordinary man I ever saw.”[259]
Probably there was a little of extravagance in this gushing eulogy; but
there must have been distinguished excellence to prompt such a man as
Venn to utter it. In the same way, the rapturous effusions of John Ryland
must be received with caution; and likewise not a few of the hyperbolical
encomiums of Mr. Brown; but we heartily endorse the judgment of the late
Rev. David McNicol:—

    “If Seneca is right in placing the praise of goodness above
    that of greatness, Mr. Hervey has secured to himself, for
    ages, the noblest kind of estimation. As a man, he was the
    delight of all who had the happiness to be numbered among his
    acquaintance. Friendship in him was Christian love, softened
    with a tenderness peculiar to himself, and placed on a select
    object; a love accompanied by the most ingenuous confidence,
    and exercised with unwearied honesty. In every other relation
    also of the circle in which he moved, he was equally remarkable
    for his courtesy and virtue.”

Hervey was one of the most godly men of the age in which he lived; and
certainly, he was one of the most popular and successful authors. It
is a curious fact, that, at least, four of the Oxford Methodists were
gifted with poetic genius,—the two Wesleys, Gambold, and Hervey. In early
life, Hervey wrote several short poems, some of them beautiful, and sent
several of his hymns to his friend Whitefield; but, strangely enough, he
ceased to cultivate his talent, from a fear lest his poetry should feed
the pride and vanity of his heart. Throughout life, however, his love of
nature was that of an enthusiast; and his “Meditations,” especially, to a
great extent, are poetry in prose. Devoutly he blesses the Providence of
God, for his well-used microscope, which, in the gardens and fields about
Weston-Favel, he almost always took with him. He believed and intimated
that the discovery of so much of the wisdom, power, and goodness
of the great Creator, even in the minutest parts of vegetable and
animalcular creation, helped to attune his soul to sing the song of the
four-and-twenty elders, “Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and
honour and power; for Thou hast created all things, and for Thy pleasure
they are and were created.”

    “His character and career,” observes a certain writer, “were
    a contrast to those of Whitefield and of Wesley. He was
    essentially contemplative; they were eminently practical.
    His mission was to sanctify the sentimentalism of the day.
    In him, the breath of life did not blow, as in Wesley, in a
    strong, steady, all-pervading current; or, as in Whitefield,
    like a rushing and resistless wind; but in a gentle zephyr,
    toying with the tresses of the trees, shaking the petals of
    the flowers and grasses of the grave, yet the minister of
    convalescence and the messenger of peace.”

Of course, opinions vary respecting Hervey’s peculiar style; but the fact
cannot be denied, that he became one of the most widely-read writers of
his time. The young still read his “Meditations” with avidity; and many
of the old remember the pleasure that his writings afforded them in their
early days. With some degree of appropriateness, he has been designated
the Melancthon of the Methodist Reformation. It is quite certain that the
elaborated polish of Hervey’s works secured them the attention of the
upper circles of society, to a far greater extent than that attention
was secured for the writings of Whitefield and Wesley. Hervey avowedly
wrote for the _élite_; Whitefield and Wesley for the masses. Hervey’s
style is objectionable to those who cultivate a taste for the simple
and chaste, in opposition to what is elaborate and grand; but, somehow,
in Hervey’s day, his books, as Whitefield said, “suited the taste of
the polite.” May it not be added, that, they also helped to refine the
taste of Methodists? The polite read them because they were flowery; the
Methodists, because they were savoury; and while, through their medium,
the former looked at grace with less prejudice; the latter looked at
nature with more delight.

The following, from the _North British Review_, is, perhaps, as just a
critique on Hervey’s writings as can be furnished:—

    “Last century was the first in which pious people cared for
    style. The Puritans had apple-trees in their orchards, and
    savoury herbs in their kitchen-gardens, but kept no greenhouse,
    nor parterre; and, amongst evangelical authors, Hervey was
    about the first who made his style a study, and who sought, by
    planting flowers at the gate, to allure passengers into the
    garden. It is not, therefore, surprising that his ornaments
    should be more distinguished for profusion and brilliant hues
    than for simplicity and grace. Most people admire tulips
    and peonies and martegon-lilies, before they get on to love
    store-cups and mosses and ferns. We used to admire them
    ourselves, and felt that summer was not fully blown till we saw
    it sure and certain in these ample and exuberant flowers. Yes,
    and even now we feel that it would make a warmer June could we
    love peonies and martegons once more. Hervey was a man of taste
    equal to his age, and of a warmth and venturesomeness beyond
    it. He introduced the poetical and picturesque into religious
    literature, and became the Shenstone of theology. And, although
    he did what none had dared before him, the world was ready,
    and his success was rapid. The “Meditations” evangelized the
    natural sciences, and embowered the old divinity. There was
    philosophy in its right mind, and at the Saviour’s feet; and
    the Lutheran dogma relieved from the academic gown, and keeping
    healthful holiday in shady woods and by the mountain stream.
    The tendency of his writing was to open the believer’s eye
    in kindness and wonder on the works of God, and their effort
    was to attract to the Incarnate Mystery the heart surprised
    or softened by these works. We cannot, at the distance of a
    century, recall the fascination which surrounded them when
    newly published,—when no similar attempts had forestalled
    their freshness, and no imitations had blown their vigour into
    bombast. But we can trace their mellow influence still. We see,
    that, they have helped to make men of faith men of feeling,
    and men of piety men of taste. Over the bald and rugged places
    of systematic orthodoxy, they have trained the sweetest
    beauties of creation and softest graces of piety, and over
    its entire landscape have shed an illumination as genial as
    it is growthful and clear. If his ‘Meditations’ be not purely
    classical, they are evangelical, and singularly adapted to the
    whole of man. Their cadence is in our popular preaching still,
    and may their spirit never quit our Christianity! It is the
    spirit of securest faith, and sunniest hope, and most seraphic
    love. And though it may be dangerous for young divines, like
    Samuel Parr, to copy their descriptive melody, it were a
    blessed ambition to emulate their author’s large and lightsome
    piety,—his heart, ‘open to the whole noon of nature,’ and
    through all its brightness drinking the smile of a present God.”

Here Hervey’s Memoir ought to end; but, unfortunately, posthumous facts
must be added.

Already, it has been stated, that, the last days of the devout Rector of
Weston-Favel were employed in writing his “Eleven Letters” in answer to
Wesley’s “Remarks on Theron and Aspasio.” It is extremely disagreeable to
tag to the end of a life so beautiful as Hervey’s a controversial fracas
which ought never to have happened, but fidelity forbids the unpleasant
duty to be avoided. For more than a hundred years, partisans, on both
sides, have discussed the question; and, on both sides, not a little has
been written which both Hervey and Wesley would wish to have blotted out.
It would not be difficult to lengthen the unprofitable controversy by an
analysis of Hervey’s “Eleven Letters” (next to his “Theron and Aspasio,”
his ablest work), but the task is uninviting, and the subject shall be
dismissed as briefly as possible.

Six years after Hervey’s death, his “Eleven Letters” were surreptitiously
published, 12mo, 288 pp., without the printer’s name attached, and with
nothing but a brief Preface, signed “Philolethes,” who acknowledged that
the work now “found its way into the world, as it were, by stealth.”
A year afterwards, in 1765, an authentic edition was issued, with the
following title—“Eleven Letters from the late Rev. Mr. Hervey, to the
Rev. Mr. John Wesley; containing An Answer to that Gentleman’s Remarks on
Theron and Aspasio, Published from the Author’s Manuscript, left in the
possession of his Brother, Mr. Hervey. With a Preface, showing the Reason
of their being now printed.” 12mo, 297 pp.[260]

The Preface states, that, Hervey did not commence his reply to
Wesley before Wesley published his private letter to Hervey, in his
“Preservative against Unsettled Notions in Religion;” in other words,
not until after June 23, 1758. This is an error; for, in a letter to the
Rev. Mr. Ryland, dated “_January_, 1758, Hervey says he was even then
‘transcribing his intended answer to Mr. Wesley for the press’” (see 315
page preceding).

Hervey’s brother, in the Preface, proceeds to say:—

    “When, in December, 1758, I was sent for to Weston, I asked him
    the evening before he died, ‘what he would have done with the
    Letters to Mr. Wesley, whether he would have them published
    after his death?’ He answered, ‘By no means, because he had
    only transcribed about half of them fair for the press; but,
    as the corrections and alterations of the latter part were
    mostly in short-hand, it would be difficult to understand them,
    especially as some of the short-hand was entirely his own, and
    others could not make it out; therefore, he said, as it is not
    a finished piece, I desire you will think no more about it.”

Mr. William Hervey adds:—

    “As these were the last orders of my brother, I thought it
    right to obey them, and, therefore, I withstood the repeated
    solicitations of many of his friends, who wanted to have them
    printed. Notwithstanding the regard I had for the persons who
    solicited the publication, I could not be persuaded to print
    the Letters; and they never had appeared in public, with my
    consent, had not a surreptitious edition of them lately made
    its way from the press, and were I not under a firm persuasion
    that will be followed by more.

    “As this is the case, I think it my duty to the memory of my
    late brother to send forth as correct an edition as I possibly
    can, for as to that which has appeared (from what editor I
    know not) it is so faulty and incorrect, that, but little
    judgment can be formed from it, of the propriety and force of
    my brother’s answers to Mr. Wesley.

    “As to the unfairness of publishing my brother’s Letters
    without my consent, and the injustice to his memory in sending
    so mangled a performance out under his name, they are too
    apparent to need any proof; and though, the editor, as I have
    been informed, gave away the whole impression, so that it
    is plain lucre was not the motive of his proceeding, and I
    would charitably hope he did it with a view of benefiting his
    readers, yet, it is so like doing evil that good may come, as,
    in my opinion, to be quite unjustifiable.

    “I have one thing more to add, which is concerning the
    _seasonableness_ of the following publication. It may, perhaps,
    be thought a needless revival of a dispute, which happened
    long ago, and which is now probably forgotten. In answer to
    which, I can assure the reader, that, though my brother died
    December 25, 1758, the controversy did by no means die with
    him, but still subsists in the daily publication and sale of
    Mr. Wesley’s ‘Preservative.’ The controversy is, in the most
    effectual manner, daily and hourly kept alive by Mr. Wesley
    himself. This proves very sufficiently the _seasonableness_,
    and, as things have happened, the _expediency_ of the present
    appearance of the following Letters in public.”

Such was the substance of Mr. William Hervey’s explanation or apology.

He says, he knew not who was the editor of the surreptitious edition of
his brother’s letters; and, in the absence of counter evidence, he is
entitled to belief. It is somewhat staggering, however, that he had been
informed, the editor “gave away the whole impression,” without being told
the donor’s name; and also, that, as the proprietor of his brother’s
manuscript, he must have known in whose hands the manuscript had been
placed since his brother’s death. Mr. Cudworth is generally believed to
have been the stealthy publisher; but, if he was, he was not alone. Mr.
Ryland writes:—

    “These letters were just upon the point of being suppressed,
    and lost to the Christian world for ever. Soon after Mr.
    Hervey’s death, they were put into my hands for twelve or
    fourteen weeks. From a principle of foolish and false delicacy
    I did not take a copy of them, which I ought to have done.
    Happy for the Church, the manuscript fell into the hands
    of three of my friends, who had more sincerity, zeal, and
    courage than I had, and thus the manuscript was rescued from
    destruction, and the original copy at last brought to light.”

Not many will coincide with Mr. Ryland’s notions “of foolish and
false delicacy.” Apart from the question, Hervey _versus_ Wesley, the
surreptitious publication of the book was a base, treacherous, nefarious
deed. No wonder that the name of the editor was never authoritatively
announced.

Mr. William Hervey complains, that, the edition was extremely “faulty
and incorrect,” and did not convey an adequate idea “of the propriety
and force of his brother’s Answers to Mr. Wesley.” Fair play makes it
imperative to say, that, intentionally or otherwise, this is far from
being true. Any one who takes the trouble to compare the two editions
will perceive, that, except in typographical corrections, the insertion
of Hebrew words in Hebrew instead of English characters, the punctuation
of sentences, and the addition of a quotation from St. Chrysostom in
Greek, the authentic edition hardly differs a hair-breadth from the
surreptitious one.

Mr. William Hervey’s last reason, for the publication of his brother’s
manuscript, is not without force. Seven years before, Wesley had unwisely
printed his “Remarks on Theron and Aspasio” in his “Preservative against
Unsettled Notions in Religion.” Notwithstanding Hervey’s death, that book
was still on sale; and, thus, Hervey was continuously attacked without
being able to answer for himself. Was this fair, and brotherly? Perhaps,
it was not enough to justify the avowed violation of Hervey’s dying wish,
and absolute command; but does it not somewhat palliate the dishonour of
the treacherous act, and, to some extent, relieve William Hervey of the
odium which has been cast upon him?

It is undeniable, that, Hervey’s “Letters” contain severe, and apparently
bitter recriminations against his old Oxford acquaintance; but did he
himself write them? Those, who are the friends of both the combatants,
have doubted this, and have, at least, insinuated that their author
was William Cudworth, Wesley’s inveterate enemy. This might be so; but
it might be otherwise. It is true, that, the taunting reproaches in
the “Eleven Letters” are not what might have been reasonably expected
from a man of Hervey’s loving and gentle spirit. His other writings are
perfectly exempt from bitterness. He seemed incapable of wounding even
an enemy, much more one who, in former days at least, had been a friend.
Was his the hand, then, that wrote the reproaches in his “Letters”?
Defenders regarded Cudworth as the culprit. There cannot be a doubt, that
Cudworth was capable of this. He hated Wesley, and his style of writing,
when he chose, was trenchant; but, after all, he might be innocent. The
“Eleven Letters” were written during the last year of Hervey’s life, when
his illness, always serious, was greatly augmented, and not unlikely to
affect his spirits. From his letters, already quoted, it is evident, his
irritation against Wesley was such, that, he honestly confesses, he found
it “no small difficulty to preserve the decency of the gentleman, and
the meekness of the Christian in his intended Answer.” Further, though
naturally so loving and so gentle, his sensitiveness was excessive. And,
once again, it must be borne in mind, that, with one or two exceptions,
such as the attack in the _Critical Review_, his writings had evoked
unmingled approbation,—religious, literary, and aristocratic circles all
uniting in his praise; and, that this was not adapted to prepare him for
the unceremonious animadversions sent to him by Wesley. God forbid! that,
we should cast a speck, which does not belong to it, on a character so
beautiful; but no man is exempt from errors; and, perhaps, the hints just
dropped are worthy of attention.

The results were painful, and, in some respects, disastrous. Wesley
himself was exceedingly annoyed. It was one of the _great_ trials of his
life. It engendered a polemical warfare which culminated in the great
Calvinian controversy of 1770; a controversy which, on one side at least,
grew in bitterness until the death of Toplady, in 1778. And, lastly,
not to mention other direful effects, by the action of Dr. Erskine, who
published Hervey’s “Eleven Letters” in Scotland, and, not only so, but,
in his Preface, made a violent attack on Wesley’s doctrines, Methodism,
across the Tweed, sustained an injury, not only deep, but of many years’
duration.

It is a painful task to conclude the life of Hervey amid the din of war;
but the facts are too important to be entirely omitted. The difference
between the two Oxford Methodists was a mournful occurrence. Neither of
them was perfect. Both are blamable. It was a misfortune, that, Wesley’s
animadversions were written in a style so blunt. It was a mistake in
Hervey to allow his excessive sensitiveness to obtain such a mastery as
to prevent his writing to his faithful friend for friendly explanation.
It was a serious blunder for Wesley to publish his critique in his
“Preservative against Unsettled Notions in Religion.” And, finally,
though Hervey’s “Letters” are ably written, it was a great calamity,
that, he died before he had given them a finishing revision; and it was
a huge breach of trust, as well as a grave impertinence, for any one to
violate Hervey’s most solemn wish, and to commit to the public press an
uncompleted manuscript, whose publication Hervey, in dying accents, had
prohibited.




REV. THOMAS BROUGHTON, M.A., THE FAITHFUL SECRETARY.


Thomas Broughton was the son of English parents, who resided in Scotland.
His father was Commissioner of Excise, at Edinburgh, and had sixteen
children, born and baptized.

Even Mr. Broughton’s descendants seem to know nothing of his early life.
From Wesley, we learn, that he was a member of Exeter College, Oxford,
and that he joined the Methodists in 1732.[261]

On leaving the University, he appears, first of all, to have officiated
at Cowley, near Uxbridge; and, with such success, that, Sir John Harold
remarks, in a letter to Wesley, “Several of Mr. Broughton’s late
parishioners at Cowley forget not the assembling of themselves together.”
In 1736, he became curate at the Tower of London; undertook to preach to
the prisoners in Ludgate prison every Tuesday afternoon; and read prayers
every night to a religious society at Wapping. By means of Whitefield,
he was presented to St. Helen’s, Bishopsgate Street Within; and, through
faithfulness to his old Oxford friend, he lost it. The parishioners
objected to Whitefield having the use of Broughton’s pulpit. Broughton
answered, “Through Mr. Whitefield’s influence, I obtained the living
of St. Helen’s, and, if he insists upon it, he shall have my pulpit.”
Whitefield did insist, and Broughton lost his lectureship.

Like all the other Oxford Methodists, Broughton was ardently attached
to Wesley. In the spring of 1735, when the venerable Rector of Epworth
was at the point of death, he used his utmost endeavours, to secure the
appointment of Wesley to the vacant rectory; but without effect. In the
autumn of that year, Wesley went on his mission to Georgia; and Broughton
wrote to him the following self-abasing letter, which has not before been
published.

                                         “OXON, _November 27, 1735_.

    “DEAR SIR,—God grant, that, this letter may find you happily
    arrived at the wished-for haven!

    “O cross of Jesus! what a rock of offence art thou become to
    the greatest part of Christians! The Christians of the present
    times are ashamed of Christ; and thou, that art a teacher
    in Israel, art thou unlearning this sure, this important
    lesson,—‘All that will live godly in Christ Jesus, shall
    suffer persecution’? You know I have. If I should say, that
    I have not shrunk from under the cross, I should be a liar.
    My own bad heart, and the observation I made of the agreeable
    life of my London friends, occasioned my first abatements in
    strictness of life and holiness of conversation. What pangs and
    agonies of heart, I felt at intervals! I laboured for peace;
    I panted after the love of God; but my heart grew foul, and
    became a cage of unclean thoughts, for want of mortification
    and self-denial. I embraced the doctrine of _imputed
    righteousness_, and had mean thoughts of works. Almost every
    day furnished me with new ideas of religion; but, alas! they
    all savoured too much, I doubt, of flesh and blood. Since my
    return from London, too, I have been amusing myself with pretty
    dreams of true religion; nor am I awake yet. Good God! art
    Thou as mighty to cast into hell NOW, as Thou wert seventeen
    hundred years ago? Did the first Christians cry mightily unto
    Thee to spare them, and did they see it _absolutely_ necessary
    to work out their salvation with fear and trembling; and dare
    I, who have been a wretch, and most excessively wicked sinner,
    think to obtain heaven with less labour and sufferings? O! pray
    for me, that Satan may not sift me as wheat! I am a worm, and
    no man, tossed about with every blast of doctrine. Stablish,
    strengthen, settle me, O my God!

    “Mr. Battely has committed his parish to my care. O! that I may
    feed his sheep, and be not a hireling! Mr. Salmon’s heart is
    with you; but, he informs me, Mr. Clayton has convinced him,
    that, he ought to abide where he is, till his parents cease to
    forbid him going to Georgia. God will never suffer a supply of
    fit and able men to be wanting to take charge of his work in
    America.

    “At Oxon, we hope to be stirring. The hand of the Lord will
    uphold our fainting steps. Cease not, dear brother, to pray for
    us, as we hope always to pray for you. Salute the brethren. We
    all salute you.

    “I am, dear sir, your most obliged and affectionate brother in
    Christ,

                                                     “T. BROUGHTON.”

This is far from being a bright and joyous letter; and yet it is
conscientious and earnest. Like all the other Oxford Methodists,
Broughton was seeking to be saved by his own good works. These were far
from perfect; and, hence, his abasement, anguish, and despondency.

In 1737, in the course of his official duty, as curate at the Tower of
London, Broughton preached a sermon, which, by request of the commander
of the garrison, was published, with the title,—

    “The Christian Soldier; or, the Duties of a Religious Life
    recommended to the Army, from the Example of Cornelius.” Text,
    Acts x. 1, 2.

In 1748, a second edition of this discourse was printed, with a
Dedication to The Right Honourable Lord Viscount Ossulstone, in which, in
reference to his style, Broughton says,—

    “If your Lordship should think the Discourse, to the
    soldiers,[262] penned with too much emotion of heart, and
    warmth of expression,—if, as a spiritual watchman, the
    preacher has lifted up his voice as a trumpet, sounded an
    alarm, and uttered his words in thunder,—he would meekly
    desire to be understood with candour, as accommodating himself
    to the military genius and character, which disdain a cold,
    lifeless, and unpersuasive harangue. He has indeed used great
    plainness of speech; and the rather, because no one has a more
    sincere regard for the profession, or a higher esteem for
    those excellent persons, who worthily fill the chief and most
    conspicuous posts in the army, than myself.”

The following brief extracts from Broughton’s sermon will furnish an idea
of his fidelity, and honest-speaking zeal. Having described the character
and conduct of Cornelius, he addressed his military audience as follows:—

    “Cornelius was a devout man, and one that feared God. But are
    there many of you, my brethren, of this religious disposition?
    Not to enumerate all the instances of piety and devotion, in
    which you are grossly and wholly defective, I will mention but
    a few.

    “And, first, in point of _sobriety_. Alas! my friends, what
    strangers, nay, what enemies, are most of you to a sober,
    temperate way of life. How frequently do you, the meaner sort
    especially, through excess of liquor, _reel to and fro, and
    stagger, and lie in the streets like dead men_! How insatiable
    is your thirst after drink, as if the gratification of that
    appetite was a joy unspeakable and full of comfort! To this
    purpose, you assemble by troops in tippling-houses, where
    you destroy your health, and waste your money and time, in
    tumults, revellings, and drunkenness. In these houses, you
    often sit till midnight, and prevent the morning watch, not
    with hymns and psalms, as David did, but, with blasphemous rant
    and obscene songs.

    “Again, your offences, in point of _chastity_, are very
    scandalous, and too notorious to be denied; insomuch, that, the
    bare sight of you is suspicious and painful to the modest part
    of the daughters of our land. Having eyes full of uncleanness
    and adultery, you wander after pernicious deceivers, and give
    yourselves loose to vile lusts and brutish affections. That I
    do not charge you wrongfully, in this respect, is too manifest,
    from the numerous and melancholy instances among you of
    putrefied bodies and rotten bones.

    “Cornelius prayed to God always. But where, alas! shall we find
    this practice among you? Prayer seems to have been banished
    from the army, and cursing and swearing brought in, in its
    room. Most of you, I fear, live without prayer, and pass away
    days, months, and years, without bending your knees to the
    God who made you, to the Saviour that redeemed you, or to the
    Holy Ghost who alone can sanctify your souls, and fit you
    for heaven. Let me not seem uncharitable in this assertion:
    I speak truth, when I pass this censure on the most of you:
    for, if you did accustom yourselves to pray, the ears of good
    Christians would not be so often stunned with that horrible din
    of blasphemy, nor shocked with those dreadful oaths, curses,
    and ungodly speeches, which daily and hourly proceed out of
    your mouth. It is an unpleasant office, my friends, to reprove
    you in this public manner; but many of you can bear me witness,
    that, I have not spared private reproof, when, in my hearing,
    the name of God has been by you blasphemed. Oh! that the horrid
    practice of profane cursing and swearing was less frequent in
    the army! Is it, my friends, a military accomplishment to curse
    and swear? Do you imagine, that, it adds grace to your speech,
    or manliness to your looks? Or do you fancy, that, it resembles
    the roaring of a lion, and renders your presence terrible?
    Alas! vain men! no wise and good man looks upon a swearer to be
    a hero, or accounts him a courageous person, because he is a
    profane and wicked one.”

The preacher uttering such reproofs as these was, to say the least, a
courageous man,—a worthy brother of Wesley himself, who, four years
afterwards, preached his withering sermon, on “The Almost Christian”
before the Oxford University. Perhaps both were more pointed than
pleasant; but in the time-serving age in which we live, the pulpit would
be improved by a dash of that stern fidelity which was used by Wesley,
Broughton, and the first Methodists. It is far easier to condemn sins,
than to reprove sinners. It required greater heroism for Nathan to say to
David, “Thou art the man,” than to deliver Nathan’s parable concerning
the heinousness of David’s sin; and for Elijah to say to Ahab, “Thou and
thy father’s house have troubled Israel,” than to dwell on the general
evils of idolatry. John the Baptist was, not rude, but, courageous, when,
face to face, he told king Herod, “it was not lawful” for him to have his
brother Philip’s wife; and when, in a crowd of Pharisees and Sadducees,
he exclaimed, “O generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from
the wrath to come?” Who will accuse the Divine Redeemer of want of
manners, in His fearful utterance, “Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees,
hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear
beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men’s bones, and of all
uncleanness. Ye outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within are full
of hypocrisy and iniquity. Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can
ye escape the damnation of hell?” Is such fidelity now common in the
pulpits of England? Is it less necessary now than it used to be in the
days of old? Are the congregations of the present day more educated and
refined than David, Ahab, Herod, and the scribes and Pharisees? Have
preachers improved upon the spirit and the courage of Nathan, Elijah, the
Baptist, and Jesus Christ? And have they discovered a more effectual mode
of addressing sinners? Is it not a fact, that, “Whatsoever things were
written aforetime were written for our learning”? Is it better and safer
to listen to those who “say to the seers, See not, and to the prophets,
Prophesy not unto us right things, speak unto us smooth things, prophesy
deceits”; or to listen to the voice of God Himself, “O son of man, I have
set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel; therefore, thou shalt hear
the word at my mouth, and warn them from me. When I say unto the wicked,
O wicked man, thou shalt surely die: if thou dost not speak to warn the
wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his
blood will I require at thine hand”?

This string of questions may be thought to indicate, that, the writer
approves of the rough fidelity of the Oxford Methodists, and is far
from satisfied with much of the preaching of the present day. Be it so.
He has no wish to avoid the odium, if odium it be. Fine preaching has
never effected great reformations. Preaching is often too polite to be
powerful. The pulpits of the age would be more successful if filled by
men like Wesley, Whitefield, and their friend Broughton. A luxurious,
self-indulgent generation needs, not obsequiousness, but, unflinching
honesty. Costly clothing, and refined tastes do not turn sinners into
saints; but is it not a truth, that, in many instances, they frighten
preachers from a faithful, uncompromising discharge of duty?

Broughton belonged to another class. He fearlessly reproved the sinner,
and as fearlessly told him of his danger. Addressing his congregation of
soldiers,—officers as well as privates,—the bold preacher says,—

    “Let the serious consideration of hell-torments constrain
    you to repent, and live like the devout Cornelius. When the
    judgment is over, and this last sad sentence passed, ‘Depart
    from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire,’ the souls of the
    damned will immediately be thrust into a ‘lake which burneth
    with fire and brimstone;’ ‘where the worm dieth not, and the
    fire is not quenched.’ In this doleful prison of darkness and
    despair, condemned souls will be tormented with the devil and
    his angels; and every part of them be racked with the sharpest
    agony. The _whorish and adulterous eye_ will then be put out
    in utter darkness. The _tongue_, that was used to _cursing,
    swearing, and filthy talking_, will then be scorched with
    tormenting flames, and be denied a drop of water to cool its
    intolerable heat. The _body_, which used to be defiled with
    _drunkenness and uncleanness_, will be burnt up as a firebrand.
    And, what is still worse, though the pleasures of sin are but
    for a season, yet, the punishment of it will be without end;
    for the smoke of the torment of the damned ascends up (saith
    the Scripture) for ever and ever. The torments of hell are of a
    never-ending duration; ‘and who,’ my friends, ‘can dwell with
    everlasting burnings?’ O be wise, and consider these amazing
    truths, that, ye may flee from the wrath to come. Bid, from
    this hour, a final farewell to swearing, gaming, drunkenness,
    and uncleanness. Be sober, be chaste, be temperate, keep holy
    the Sabbath-day, flee idleness and bad company. Remember you
    are Christ’s soldiers, and were listed under His banner at your
    baptism. ‘Turn ye, turn ye, from your evil ways.’ The arms of
    Divine mercy are still open to receive and embrace you. God
    willeth not the death of sinners, but had rather they should
    repent and be saved. Our Lord Jesus Christ is ready to own you,
    and wash you from your sins in His own blood: and the Holy
    Ghost continually ‘maketh intercession for you, with groanings
    which cannot be uttered.’”

Such may be taken as a specimen of Broughton’s preaching, at all events
at the commencement of his ministry.

After a five months’ residence in Georgia, Charles Wesley returned to
England. Whitefield was ordained, by Bishop Benson, on the 20th of June
1736, and immediately commenced his marvellous career of preaching. At
the Christmas following, when only twenty-two years of age, he was fully
determined to join Wesley, Ingham, and Delamotte in America. Some of his
friends, however, protested against this, and, among others, his friend
Broughton, the result of which was, his departure was postponed until the
beginning of the year 1738. The following was Broughton’s letter on this
occasion:—

                                        “LONDON, _January 28, 1737_.

    “DEAREST SIR,—My instruments are ready, and I am sat down to
    write to you; but how shall I accost you? With what matter
    lengthen out my letter? Surely, I was never more at a loss than
    now how to address my friend. And yet, the springs of love,
    that issue from the fountain of my heart towards you, are not
    dried up. Methinks, I have the same affection and esteem for
    you as ever; but the _resolution_ you have taken to leave your
    native country, and the melancholy consequences to the cause of
    religion, which are likely to ensue therefrom; together with
    the barren prospects of my inability to dissuade you from your
    hasty undertaking, at least, till you have taken the advice of
    a multitude of counsellors (in whom the wise man says there is
    safety),—all these things put together, besides the weight and
    variety of my own affairs, so entangle and distress me, that I
    know not what to communicate to you. But good Mr. Wogan[263]
    has expressed my sentiments to you in his own. His reasons
    against your going to Georgia are my reasons, and the reasons
    of several good men besides; particularly of Sir Erasmus
    Philips, who laid his commands upon me to dehort you if I could.

    “Dear Mr. Whitefield, let me entreat you to examine the
    reasons. Surely, we ought to consider before we resolve, and to
    weigh things well before we proceed to put them into execution.
    Would you be glad to learn what are my objections against your
    going? Alas! I have many things to say unto you upon that
    head, but you cannot bear them now. All I would recommend to
    you at present, is not to harden yourself against what may be
    modestly and fairly alleged to your leaving England. Let not
    your friends be accounted your enemies, because they tell you
    the truth. Lastly, we all observe the golden rule of our Lord,
    ‘Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous
    judgment.’

    “My dear friend,—for you are so to me,—pardon my plain
    dealing, and, if it deserves a worse name, yet, pardon it. I
    conclude my letter with an excellent collect of our Church on
    behalf of us both:—

    “‘O God, forasmuch as without Thee, we are not able to please
    Thee, mercifully grant that Thy Holy Spirit may, in all things,
    direct and rule our hearts, through Jesus Christ our Lord.’

              “I am, dear sir, your affectionate brother,

                                            “THOMAS BROUGHTON.”[264]

    “To the Rev. Mr. WHITEFIELD,

    “At Mr. Grenville’s, a Grocer, in Wine Street, at Bristol.”

John Wesley arrived in England on February 1st, 1738. By repeated
interviews with Peter Böhler, he was converted to Böhler’s doctrines,
1. That, faith is “a sure trust and confidence which a man hath in
God, that, through the merits of Christ, his sins are forgiven, and he
reconciled to the favour of God. 2. That, the fruits of this faith are
the witness of the Spirit, and the new birth. And, 3. That, this faith is
given in a moment, and, that, instantaneously a man may be translated out
of darkness into light, out of sin and fear into holiness and happiness.”
This, however, was an experience, which Wesley, as yet, had not realized;
and, hence, he came to the conclusion, that, notwithstanding all his
past piety and devotion, he was still without saving faith. Wesley
asked his friend Böhler, whether, being destitute of faith, he “ought
not to refrain from teaching others?” Böhler said, “No; do not hide in
the earth the talent God hath given you.” Accordingly, when Wesley, his
brother Charles, and Broughton met, on April 25, in the house of Mr.
Delamotte, at Blendon, the nature and fruits of faith became the subject
of discussion. Wesley propounded his new ideas “clearly and fully;” and
writes:—

    “Mr. Broughton’s great objection was, he could never think,
    that, I had not faith, who had done and suffered such things.
    My brother was very angry, and told me, I did not know what
    mischief I had done by talking thus.”

Charles Wesley’s account of this important meeting, held at five o’clock
in the morning, is more minute. He remarks:—

    “1738, April 25. Soon after five, as we were met in our little
    chapel, Mrs. Delamotte came to us. We sang, and fell into a
    dispute whether conversion was gradual or instantaneous. My
    brother was very positive for the latter, and very shocking;
    and mentioned some late instances of gross sinners believing
    in a moment. I was much offended at his worse than unedifying
    discourse. Mrs. Delamotte left us abruptly. I stayed, and
    insisted, a man need not know when first he had faith. His
    obstinacy, in favouring the contrary opinion, drove me at last
    out of the room. Mr. Broughton was only not so much scandalized
    as myself. After dinner, he and my brother returned to town. I
    stayed behind, and read them the ‘Life of Mr. Halyburton:’ one
    instance, but only one, of instantaneous conversion.”

Strange to say, within three weeks after this religious fracas, Charles
Wesley became a convert to the very opinions which had given him such
huge offence; and began to pity and upbraid his friend Broughton for not
thinking like himself. Accordingly he writes:—

    “May 11. I was carried in a chair to Mr. Bray’s” (the
    Moravian), “who is to supply Böhler’s place. I found his
    sister” (Bray’s) “in earnest pursuit of Christ; and his wife
    well inclined to conversion. I had not been here long, when
    Mr. Broughton called. I hoped to find him altered like myself;
    but, alas! his time is not yet come. As to M. Turner, he gave
    her up; ‘but for you, M. Bray,’ said he, ‘I hope you are still
    in your senses, and not run mad after a faith which must be
    felt.’ He went on contradicting and blaspheming. I thought it
    my duty to withstand him, and to confess my want of faith. ‘God
    help you, poor man,’ he replied; ‘if I could think you have not
    faith, I am sure it would drive me to despair.’”

Charles Wesley was now as impassioned on the one side, as, three weeks
before, he had been on the other. He and Broughton became estranged.
Hence the following, in his journal:—

    “1738, May 14. Several persons called to-day, and were
    convinced of unbelief. Some of them afterwards went to Mr.
    Broughton, and were soon made as easy as Satan and their own
    hearts could wish.”

A week after this, Charles Wesley believed in Christ to the saving of
his soul; and became increasingly anxious for his friend Broughton. He
writes:—

    “May 27. I was much assisted to intercede for poor Mr.
    Broughton, who continues the very life of all those that oppose
    the faith.”

    “July 11. Tuesday. Mr. Sparks, this morning, asked me whether
    I would preach for him at St. Helen’s. I agreed to supply Mr.
    Broughton’s place, who is now at Oxford, arming our friends
    against the faith. The pain in my side was very violent; but
    no sooner did I enter the coach than the pain left me, and I
    preached faith in Christ to a vast congregation, adding much
    extempore. After sermon, Mrs. Hind, with whom Mr. Broughton
    lodges, sent for me; owned her agreement to the doctrine, and
    pressed me to come and talk with Mr. Broughton, who, she could
    not but believe, must himself agree to it.”

At this period, Charles Wesley was intensely interested in the welfare
of half a score of malefactors, under sentence of death, in Newgate
prison, all of whom were executed at Tyburn, on the 19th of July. During
the last nine days they had to live, besides other visits, and personal
conversations with them, he preached to them at least six sermons, and
twice administered to them the holy Sacrament. On the day of execution,
he, and Broughton, and Mr. Sparks were at the prison as early as six
o’clock.[265] At Tyburn, these three earnest ministers ascended the cart
where, beneath the hideous gibbet, the ten poor wretches, with ropes
round their necks, stood awaiting their ignominious end. Charles Wesley
offered prayer, then Sparks, and then Broughton; after which the cart was
drawn away, and the lives of the miserable men were ended.

Charles Wesley believed that several of them had found peace with God;
and declared, that, the hour he spent beneath the Tyburn gallows “was
the most blessed hour of his life.” The alienation, however, between him
and Broughton still continued. Three weeks afterwards, they met at Mrs.
Hind’s, and resumed their old disputes. The details of the interview
are not recorded; but Charles declares, that, Broughton acknowledged,
he had never read the Homilies of the Established Church; and adds, “he
denied explicitly, that, we are saved by Christ’s imputed righteousness;
and affirmed, that, works do justify, and have a share in making us
righteous before God.” The two were earnest and eager disputants; but, to
use Charles Wesley’s words, they “parted good friends.”

After this, we lose sight of Broughton until the year 1741, when he was
chosen lecturer of Allhallows, Lombard Street;[266] and when he also
married.

The marriage was to have taken place early in the year; but had to be
postponed, in consequence of the death of Mr. Capel (the young lady’s
father), only two days before the time primarily appointed. In a long
letter, dated April 4, 1741, and addressed to Charles Morgan, Broughton
gives full particulars of Mr. Capel’s illness and decease, and relates,
that, Mr. C. had been married twenty-five years, and was buried in a
vault belonging to St. Peter’s, Cornhill. He then remarks:—

    “Immortal and unchangeable God! to what changes is poor,
    perishing mortality subjected to here below! To-day we live:
    to-morrow we die. The rising sun beholds us fresh and blooming
    in life: the setting, motionless, and pale, and sunk into the
    arms of death. Though in the secret counsels of a wise and
    gracious Providence, I do not doubt, yet, what a disagreeable
    turn this melancholy accident has given to my affairs! O, my
    more than brother! my virtuous and noble friend! let no earthly
    thing, not even the most endearing and lovely Miranda, be too
    much the object of your affections. Forgive the preacher. Our
    God is a jealous God. He is jealous of His love, which often
    causes Him to use mortifying means to wean us from the love of
    the creature.

    “I can add no more on this too tender subject, except, that,
    the ever dear to me and devout Aspasia carries herself with
    inimitable discretion, meekness, nay, Christian cheerfulness
    and resignation, under this heavy stroke and unpleasant posture
    of affairs. We both salute you in the tenderest and most hearty
    manner; and, with eager desires, look forward to the next happy
    month that promises us the blessing of seeing, and conversing
    with so choice, so beloved a friend. Be not afraid to step
    into the house of mourning. We will, for awhile, lay aside
    our garments of heaviness, and anoint ourselves with the oil
    of gladness, to welcome you on your arrival in England; and,
    by prayers and best wishes for your future happiness, we will
    add our mites to the crown of joy upon a certain affair that
    promises you an abundance of happiness.

              “I am, my dear Theophilus,[267] your friend,

                                                 “THOMAS BROUGHTON.”

It is a well-known fact, that, at this period, the vagaries of the
Moravians created great excitement in the religious world. Gambold openly
joined the Brethren, as Ingham had already done before him. Fickle
Westley Hall was tainted with their heresy; and even Charles Wesley, for
a season, was in danger of subsiding into their unscriptural _stillness_.
An effort was made to re-unite Wesley’s London Societies with the
Moravians at Fetter Lane; and Wesley and Zinzendorf had a memorable
conference in Gray’s Inn public promenade. Whitefield, also, for the time
being, was so out of favour with the Brotherhood, that James Hutton, who
had been his publisher, refused to have any further transactions with
him; and, to add to his annoyance, “the people of the world,” he says,
“fled from him as from a viper,” because of his “injudicious and too
severe expressions against Archbishop Tillotson, the author of the old
Duty of Man.” Hooker, the mendacious editor of the _Weekly Miscellany_,
in his trenchant style, was attacking both Moravians and Methodists
indiscriminately; and a Mr. Hopson, one of the twelve stewards of the
Religious Societies, pronounced excommunication, from their fellowship,
against all the members who were guilty of the crime of hearing the
Moravian Brethren, or Wesley, or Whitefield preach.

In this miserable fracas, Broughton was not an uninterested spectator. It
is said, that, Mr. Hopson, just mentioned, was instigated by the Bishop
of London, and, that, his lordship also entertained the idea of bringing
the Moravian proceedings under the notice of Parliament. It is also
alleged, that, Broughton became one of his most active agents; and, that,
to accomplish the bishop’s scheme of stamping out the Moravian heresy,
he availed himself of the services of Mr. Bray, an ex-Moravian, who
“made it his business to go among the Brethren, construing all they did
to suit his purpose, and then spreading calumnies concerning them.” Be
that as it might, a pamphlet was printed, but not published, against both
the Methodists and Moravians, containing, among other things, a letter,
which Spangenberg had formerly addressed to Bray, and which was now made
to tell against the Brotherhood. With what correctness we know not, the
author of the “Memoirs of James Hutton” writes,— 

    “This pamphlet, which had been chiefly managed by Mr. Broughton,
    was not published, but industriously circulated among the
    Religious Societies in the metropolis. Broughton is charged
    with writing statements in it against the Brethren, altogether
    at variance with his personal knowledge and conviction, from
    fear lest the world should look upon him as one of the Brethren.
    Brother Gambold was deputed to visit him, and point out the
    consequences of such duplicity; and the result of Gambold’s
    visit appears in the following memorandum of the 2nd of
    January, 1742: ‘Mr. Broughton is much prejudiced against us,
    and he and Ziegenhagen’ (chaplain at the court of George II.)
    ‘lay their heads together to find fault, and the pamphlet, now
    printed, is read in all the Religious Societies in town.’”

No doubt there is some truth in this. Broughton was incapable of the
cowardice and misrepresentation alleged against him; but there can be
no question, that, he strongly disapproved of some of the doctrines
and usages of the Moravians; and no fault can be found with him for
this. Like all new religious movements, Moravianism was inexperienced,
excitable, and, to some extent, erratic. Infancy cannot be expected to
possess the perfection of manhood. With the best intentions, many of
the Brethren said and did foolish things. Broughton censured this, and
so also did his old friends, Wesley and Whitefield; but it is possible,
that, he was desirous of going further than they. Wesley and Whitefield
would have weeded Moravianism; Broughton and the Bishop of London would
have totally uprooted it.

Nor is there anything in this to excite surprise. Broughton was full of
religious zeal and intensely earnest; but he was a rigid Churchman, and,
therefore, not in favour of sectarists. Besides, while firmly holding
most of the leading doctrines of the Christian faith, he had a strong
antipathy, as already seen, to those dogmas of the Brethren, which the
Wesley brothers had been taught by Böhler. To what extent his opposition
to Methodism and Moravianism was carried, it is impossible to determine.
Neither can it be ascertained, whether he cherished his repugnance to
Wesley’s newly-found doctrines to the end of life. Charles Wesley, on
visiting Newgate prison, in 1743, observes,—

    “I found the poor souls turned out of the way by Mr. Broughton.
    He told them, ‘There is no knowing our sins forgiven; and, if
    any could expect it, not such wretches as they, but the good
    people, who had done so and so. As for _his_ part, he had it
    not himself; therefore, it was plain they could not receive
    it.’”

And, again, in 1744, he writes, in his Journal:—

    “November 11. This evening, I heard of poor Mr. Broughton’s
    zeal; but shall not persecute, after his example.”

    “November 28. I put out of the Society all the disorderly
    walkers; who are, consequently, ready to make affidavit of
    whatever Mr. Broughton pleases.”

There is obscurity in the last two extracts. Both were written at
Newcastle-on-Tyne; and, yet, it is almost certain, that, Broughton
was, not there, but, in London. Probably letters from London had been
received by Charles, during his northern tour; but what he means by the
“affidavits” and by Broughton’s persecution, there is no evidence to
show. On the old principle, that, where there is smoke there is fire,
it may be safely inferred, that, though Charles Wesley, impulsive and
impassioned, entertained an excessive prejudice against his old Oxford
friend, Broughton was still in hostility to the doctrines and the action
of the Methodists.

Did this continue to the end of life? We cannot tell. We hope not, and
are encouraged in this by a fact which happened soon after the year 1750.
The Rev. Henry Venn is well known as having belonged to the party of
evangelical clergymen, who sprang up in the days of Wesley, embracing the
Revs. Samuel Walker, J. Jones, Dr. Conyers, W. Romaine, J. Berridge, and
others who might be mentioned. Mr. Venn commenced his earnest and useful
ministry in 1750, by accepting the curacy of a Mr. Langley, who held
the livings of St. Matthew, Friday Street, London, and of West Horsley,
near Guildford, in Surrey. It was his duty to serve the church in London
during part of the summer months, and to reside the remainder of the
year at Horsley. In this employment he continued from 1750 to 1754, when
he accepted the curacy of Clapham. Such was his activity and zeal at
Horsley, that, his family prayer was often attended by thirty or forty
of his poorer neighbours; and the number of communicants was increased,
while he was curate, from twelve to sixty. The neighbouring clergy
stigmatized him as an enthusiast and a Methodist, which presupposes that,
in spirit, doctrine, or behaviour, or all combined, he bore a likeness
to the branded sect. Up to the present, he was personally unknown to
Wesley; but he had frequently been among his auditors, and confesses, in
a letter, dated March 21, 1754, that, Wesley’s words had often been “as
thunder to his drowsy soul.” All this goes to prove, that, the sympathies
of the young curate were with Wesley and his friends; and, yet, presuming
that Broughton’s antipathy to the recently risen sect still existed, Venn
was the means of conferring a substantial benefit on the man who opposed
the principles and party which he himself regarded with affectionate and
zealous approbation. The story, as related in the life of Venn, is as
follows:—

During the time that Mr. Venn held the curacy of Horsley, Sir John Evelyn
had the disposal of the living of Wotton, in the same neighbourhood; a
living then worth between £200 and £300 a year, and at present worth
double that amount. Sir John was exceedingly anxious to obtain a
clergyman of exemplary character, and a man of knowledge and learning.
The squire of Horsley strongly recommended Mr. Venn, and Sir John seemed
ready to accept the recommendation of his friend; but Venn, who had
long been acquainted with Broughton, and had a high respect for his
virtues, judged him more in need of preferment than himself, and wrote
an anonymous letter to the patron, giving a full and faithful account of
Broughton’s character, and urging his appointment to the vacant Rectory.
Sir John, after making inquiry concerning Broughton, presented him; nor
had he ever reason to repent of following the advice of his anonymous
correspondent.[268]

If Broughton retained his objection to the doctrines of the Methodists,
is it likely, that Venn, himself a Methodist in point of doctrine, would
have recommended him for such a post? Venn was well acquainted with him,
and must have known his sentiments, not only past but present. He had no
personal interests to serve. In fact, his act was one of generous and
rare disinterestedness. He was full of youthful zeal, and ardent longings
to promote the spread of Christian truth. Under such circumstances, is
it rash to regard the action that he took as evidence that the views of
Broughton, who, at the beginning of the Methodist movement, had opposed
the Methodist doctrines, were now materially changed, and that, in his
ministerial teachings, he was substantially in harmony with the Methodist
clergy? The reader must form his own opinion on the subject; but as
Broughton has always been represented, not as a friend, but as a somewhat
zealous opponent of the Methodists, it is hoped, that this seeming
digression may not be deemed irrelevant.

To proceed. In 1743, Broughton was appointed the Secretary of the
Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge; an office which he held until
his death in 1777. For thirty-four years the secretarial duties of
this Society were the principal employment of Broughton’s life. In the
Society’s house, first in Bartlett’s Buildings, Holborn, and afterwards,
in Hatton Garden, he spent five hours every day in the week, except on
Saturdays and Sundays; and during these five hours, from 9 a.m., till 2
p.m., was accessible to all members and friends of the Society, who had
business to transact. Was his life mis-spent? In answering this, some
account of the Society itself is needful; and the following is chiefly
taken from its own Reports.

It is a well-known fact, that, the useful and popular preaching of
Horneck, Beveridge, and Smithies, led to the institution of the Society
for the Reformation of Manners, in 1677. Coexistent with this Society,
were a large number of Christian brotherhoods, in London and throughout
the kingdom, who held private meetings for religious fellowship, set
up prayers in many of the city churches, and were most exemplary in
their attendance at the monthly Sacrament, and at public services.
To some extent, these religious organizations were one; and yet they
were distinct and separate. The Society for the Reformation of Manners
was intended to suppress vice in others; the religious societies were
instituted principally to promote religion among themselves. The
Reformation Society was composed of members of the Church of England
and of Dissenters unitedly; the religious societies did not admit
Dissenters, and consisted entirely of the members of the Established
Church.

Things proceeded thus, till about the end of 1698, when a few gentlemen,
belonging to these fraternities, formed themselves into a Society “to
promote the knowledge of true religion,” on a more extensive scale than
had been yet attempted; and “in 1701, at their instance, a charter was
obtained, from William III., whereby all the then subscribing members,
with other persons of distinction in Church and State, were incorporated
for the better carrying on of that branch of their designs, which related
to the _Plantations, Colonies, and Factories_ beyond the seas, belonging
to the kingdom of England.” This Society was henceforward known as “The
Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts.”

The incorporation of this Society for foreign missions hardly satisfied
the yearnings of many of its members, principally on the ground, that,
the British plantations, colonies, and factories beyond the seas, were
chiefly in America.

The American colonies were of great importance; but others, besides them,
needed sympathy and help. Hence, these godly and earnest workers in the
cause of Christ, still continued to carry on, by distinct and separate
efforts, other designs for the honour of God, and the good of the human
race. The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts was
chartered and designated on June 16, 1701. At the end of the same year,
the parties making the distinct and separate efforts were called, “The
Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.”

The original designs of the latter Society were two-fold. 1. “The
dispersion, both at home and abroad, of Bibles, Prayer-Books, and
Religious Tracts.” 2. The promotion of “Charity Schools in all parts
of the kingdom; in which, besides receiving religious and useful
instruction, the children of the poor might be inured to industry and
labour, so as to make them, not only good Christians, but loyal and
useful subjects of the realm, and willing, as well as fit, to be employed
in trades and services, in husbandry, navigation, or any other business,
that should be thought of most use and benefit to the public. With these
views, the Society printed and circulated a set of rules for the good
order and government of such schools,—rules which had been approved
by the archbishops and bishops, who directed that the same should be
observed within their respective dioceses.”

“Besides these general designs, the Society undertook, in 1710, the
management of such charities as might be put into their hands, for the
support and enlargement of the Protestant Mission, then maintained by the
King of Denmark, at Tranquebar, in the East Indies, for the conversion of
the heathen in those parts.” In the prosecution of this work, the Society
assisted the Missionaries, at Tranquebar, “with money, a printing press,
paper, and other necessaries.” In 1728, they commenced a new mission, for
the conversion of the native population at Madras; and, subsequently,
another at Cudulore, an English settlement near Fort St. David; a third
at Calcutta; and a fourth at Tirutschinapally, the capital of the kingdom
of Madurei, an inland country in East India.

In 1720, the Society extended their work to the Greek Church in
Palestine, Syria, Mesopotamia, Arabia, and Egypt; and, by a special
fund, towards which King George I. contributed £500, printed, in Arabic,
and, by means of correspondents in Russia, ultimately dispersed in the
aforesaid countries, 6000 Psalters, 10,000 New Testaments, and 5000
Catechetical Instructions, with an abridgment of the History of the Bible
annexed.

In 1725, when workhouses began to be instituted, for employing the
poor and their children, the Society used its influence to promote the
extension of such establishments, by publishing an account of those
already in existence, and by urging, that, “a particular regard ought
always to be had to such an education of poor children, as might, by
bringing them up in the faith, knowledge, and obedience of the Gospel,
prove the most effectual means to make them good men, and useful to their
country.”

In 1732, the Society, hearing the melancholy account of the sufferings of
the Protestants in Saltzburg, issued two publications on the subject, and
raised a fund, out of which, “besides many large remittances to Germany,
they sent to the colony of Georgia, in 1733, 1734, 1735, and 1741, four
transports, containing more than two hundred of those poor, persecuted
Protestants; who, with two missionaries and a schoolmaster, were settled
at Ebenezer, and there lived contented and comfortable.”

This brief outline of the ordinary and special work of the Society brings
us down to the time when Broughton was made Secretary. The following are
extracts from the manuscript Minutes of the Board of Management:—

    “Bartlett’s Buildings. Tuesday, June 28, 1743. Agreed, that,
    the Rev. Mr. Thomas Broughton and Mr. Watts jointly perform the
    office of Secretary to this Society during pleasure.

    “Agreed, that, Mr. Broughton come immediately to reside in the
    Society’s house, and open, and give proper answers to, all
    letters concerning the Society,” &c., &c.

    “Tuesday, July 5th, 1743. Ordered, that, Mr. Broughton have
    twelve Addresses to Prisoners in Debt, and twelve Addresses to
    Prisoners for Crimes, out of the Society’s store, for the use
    of poor prisoners.

    “July 26, 1746. The Secretary having reported, that, the
    Highlanders, under confinement in the Tower, were desirous of
    religious books,—_Ordered_, that, Bibles, Testaments, Soldiers’
    Monitors, and Morning and Evening Prayers be sent them; and,
    that, the Secretary take care to have them distributed in a
    proper manner.”

Here is added another field of usefulness,—that of benefiting indebted,
criminal, and political prisoners. Remembering the interest which, for
years past, Broughton had taken in the welfare of prison inmates, there
can be little doubt, that, this proceeding of the Society was adopted at
his suggestion. Broughton’s sermon to Soldiers, in 1737, has been already
mentioned. So far as can be ascertained, his only other publication was
issued at the time referred to in the above extracts from the Society’s
Minute Book; and, as will be seen, it had its origin in his anxiety
concerning prisons. Its title was as follows,—“A Serious and Affectionate
Warning to Servants, more especially those of our Nobility and Gentry:
occasioned by the shameful and untimely Death of Matthew Henderson;
who was executed April 25, 1746, for the Murder of his Lady, Mrs.
Dalrymple,[269] With some Account of his Behaviour under Sentence of
Death. By Thomas Broughton, Lecturer of Allhallows, Lombard Street, and
late Fellow of Exeter College, Oxford. London. 1746.” 47 pp. Broughton
repeatedly visited Matthew Henderson,—who was only nineteen years of
age,—in the murderer’s cell, and expressed a hope, that, he found peace
with God. “His behaviour,” says he, “at the place of execution, was
penitent and devout, and such as moved the compassion of a great crowd
of spectators, who came to see him suffer.” Two days before his death,
Henderson was also visited by Wesley, who wrote;—

    “April 23. At the earnest request of a friend,” (was this
    Broughton?) “I visited Matthew Henderson, condemned for
    murdering his mistress. A real, deep work of God seemed to be
    already begun in his soul. Perhaps, by driving him too fast,
    Satan has driven him to God; to that repentance which shall
    never be repented of.”

Broughton’s pamphlet,[270] on this melancholy occasion, is characterized
by great fidelity, and outspokenness; and, as this is the last time,
that, his authorship will be mentioned, three extracts, bearing on
questions that are still of profound importance, may be acceptable:—

    THE DANGER OF GREAT CITIES TO SERVANTS.—“As these great cities
    entertain, so they ruin no small number of servants, who soon
    exchange the simplicity of the country for the foppery of the
    town. Many of these, if they brought a little religion with
    them hither, part with it soon, and quickly arrive at more
    wickedness than, perhaps, they will ever get rid of. Thus the
    town proves a school of corruption to them, wherein they learn
    everything that is evil. Here they lose their good principles;
    their morals are stained; their heart grows bad; and they stand
    ready prepared for the worst of crimes. With this wretched
    furniture of vices, how can they make good servants? Nay, what
    can prevent their turning out very bad ones? They are under no
    religious restraint; who then will vouch for their veracity?
    They have cast off the fear of God; where then is their
    reverence for their master?”

    ON DRUNKENNESS.—“No person addicted to this vice can answer
    for himself, but that, in his liquor, he may commit the most
    outrageous acts of violence. Being deprived of his reason, and
    the grace of God having forsaken him, he is ripe for the most
    daring crimes. If you suffer yourselves to be enflamed with
    drink, and overcome thereby, farewell every tender impression!
    every spark of humanity and gratitude! You are no longer a man,
    but a beast,—mad and furious, fierce, and ungovernable,—and no
    fitter to be trusted than a tiger.”

    ON LEWDNESS.—“You cannot be a companion of these merciless
    destroyers of soul and body without running into great
    expense. And, where will you find money to satisfy these
    ravenous harpies? How these abandoned wretches assemble, as
    it were, in troops, and, with more than masculine boldness,
    and no less than hellish assurance, assault the modesty of
    every one they meet! How, in contempt of the laws of God and
    their country, they attempt to decoy and ruin all such as
    have not grace and resolution to withstand them! These are
    the instruments of destruction to so many of our raw and
    unguarded youth, and cause numbers of them to bring down the
    grey hairs of their parents with sorrow to the grave. The
    neglect of severe discipline and painful correction, emboldens
    these transgressors to sin with a high hand, and even to act
    their abominations before the sun. Whence, our streets and
    alleys swarm with these execrable servants of the devil, who
    are continually carrying on a trade of sin; who make it their
    livelihood; and who subsist by the price of slaughtered souls.”

But enough. We return to Broughton as Secretary of the Society for
Promoting Christian Knowledge.

In 1740, Dr. Gibson, Bishop of London, issued a circular letter to the
clergy of his diocese, lamenting “the decay of piety and religion,
and the increase of sin and vice;” and strongly recommending them to
patronize the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, in their work of
printing and dispersing Religious Tracts. His Lordship urgently pleaded
for the extensive circulation of such publications, on the ground,
that, “being short, they were likely to be read; and, being plain, they
were likely to be understood; and, being always at hand, and frequently
perused, they would naturally make a deeper impression than instructions
and admonitions, either from the pulpit, or by word of mouth.”

To furnish an idea of the work of the Society in this department, it
may be added, that, the Catalogue, when Broughton became Secretary,
embraced, besides Bibles, Psalters, New Testaments, and Prayer-Books—1.
Small books and tracts on the Holy Scriptures. 2. On the Church
Catechism. 3. On the Christian Religion, Doctrine, and Practice. 4.
On the Sacraments and Church Service. 5. On Education and Schools. 6.
On Devotion. 7. Miscellanies. 8. On Confirmation. 9. On Particular
Duties. 10. On Common Vices. 11. On Charity Schools. 12. On Popery. And,
finally, on Enthusiasm, under which heading were two publications only,
namely, Bishop Gibson’s “Caution against Enthusiasm,” and “An Earnest
and Affectionate Address to the Methodists.” All the Bibles, books, and
tracts were sold to the members of the Society at _cost price_. The
number of the Society’s publications were about 160. The Treasurers were
the Rev. Dr. Denne, Archdeacon of Rochester, and Rector of St. Mary’s,
Lambeth; William Tillard, Esq., Holborn; and Benjamin Hoare, Esq., Fleet
Street.

The number of Charity Schools, in London and Westminster, in 1744, were
136, containing 3119 boys and 1950 girls; and, since their establishment,
15,250 boys had been apprenticed, sent to service, or to sea, or had
been taken out by their respective friends. Of the girls, 1658 had been
apprenticed, and 6162 had been employed in domestic service, etc.[271]
Besides those in the metropolis, there were, throughout the kingdom, 1703
other charity schools, in which were educated, and “inured to industry
and labour,” 31,184 boys, and 4515 girls.

It must not be understood, that, these charity schools were supported by
the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge;[272] but the Society had
promoted their establishment; and, to some extent, furnished them with
books and tracts. Every year also, a sermon was preached, in London,
under the auspices of the Society, at “the time of the yearly meeting of
the children educated in the charity schools, in and about the cities
of London and Westminster;” and all of these sermons (many of them
exceedingly able) were published in the Society’s Reports. That, such
Schools were needed, there can be no question. The following description
is taken from the sermon preached by the Rev. Glocester Ridley, LL.B., in
1757, and is alarmingly true of the “London Arabs” now existing. Speaking
of the outcast children of the metropolis, the preacher represents them,
as, “A brood of miserable wretches in themselves, and noxious vermin
to society; a kind of rational brutes, but worse than savages, being
equally beasts of prey, but more mischievous, from their use of reason
and resemblance of human kind. They may be the care, the admiration, the
triumph of Infidelity; but every generous heart must grieve to see reason
so disordered and human nature so in ruins.”

From what has been already written, an idea may be formed of the Society
of which Broughton was the Secretary, from 1743 to 1777. It was a Bible,
Prayer-Book, Religious Tract, Home and Foreign Mission, and Industrial
Society, all in one. The present “British and Foreign Bible Society” was
established in the year 1804; the “National Society for Promoting the
Education of the Poor in the Principles of the Established Church,” in
1811; the Religious Tract Society, in 1799; the Society for Promoting
Christian Knowledge was long anterior to the oldest of these.

It had two kinds of members; 1. Those who gave annual subscriptions,
lived in or near London, and were called _Residing_ Members; 2.
Corresponding Members, being persons, in Great Britain and Ireland,
and other Protestant countries, who were chosen to correspond with
the Society, on the state of religion in the places where they dwelt,
to distribute the Society’s publications, and to remit any occasional
benefactions, which they or their friends might be pleased to contribute.
No one, however, was elected a corresponding member, who was not “well
affected to his Majesty King George and his Government, and to the
Church of England as by law established;” and who was not “of a sober,
and religious life and conversation, and of an humble, peaceable, and
charitable disposition.” The subscribing members were chiefly clergymen
and bishops; including the following, who were often called Methodists,
the Rev. Thomas Adam, Richard Conyers, Thomas Hartley, Henry Venn, and
Vincent Perronet.[273] The last mentioned became a member as early as
1744. Among the few highly respectable lay-members, Sir John Thorold,
an early friend of the Oxford Methodists, was the most munificent
subscriber. The number of members altogether was, in 1767, upwards
of 700; and the income, for that year, including a balance in hand,
was £5580. In the same year, the Society sold, 3829 Bibles; 2281 New
Testaments; 5416 Prayer-Books; 8902 other bound books; and 58,429 tracts.
Of these, 1014 books and tracts were given to the Society, and 19,423
bought by it; the remainder, 58,420, were its own publications.

Such, then, was the Society of which Broughton was the chief manager.
Its operations, comparatively speaking, might be small, but it had the
honour of being the pioneer of some of the greatest movements of the
present day. It distributed Bibles long before the British and Foreign
Bible Society existed. The great Religious Tract Society was not formed
until twenty-two years after Broughton’s death. Its Foreign Missions were
few in number, but were important and successful; one of its missionaries
being the celebrated Schwartz, who, as early as 1772, had five native
assistants, and was held in such high esteem, by the Hindoos, among whom
he laboured, that, the Rajah of Tanjore made him tutor to his son. In the
education of the children of the poor, the Society deserves the utmost
commendation, for it promoted the work when all others neglected it; and
not only gave the children useful and religious instruction, but “inured
them to industry and labour,” and prepared them to become useful subjects
of the commonwealth.

Little is known of Broughton’s pulpit labours; and, though his
parishioners at Wotton numbered not more than about 600, if they had any
pastoral visitation at all, their visitor must have been, not Broughton
himself, but, a curate employed by him. Five days every week were spent
in the Society’s House, in Hatton Garden; Saturday and Sunday, Broughton
reserved for other duties. Some will doubt the propriety of his holding
the Wotton living, when most of his time was devoted to work, which
prevented him residing among his people; and that is a fair subject for
discussion. All that we are disposed to say, is, that, Broughton was,
unquestionably, a conscientious man, and, though liable to mistakes,
there cannot be a doubt, he acted for the best. Broughton had a large
family,—fifteen children altogether, five of whom died in infancy; and
his official salary was small, the entire payment, by the Society, for
“rent, taxes, and salaries” to himself and a “messenger,” being, for the
year 1767, not more than £290 8_s._ 9_d._ Was it surprising, that, with
such a family and such a pittance, he was willing to accept preferment?
It is true, when inducted into the Wotton living, he might have
relinquished his secretarial office, and, perhaps, should have done; but,
on the other hand, he, doubtless, felt that, as Secretary of the Society
for Promoting Christian Knowledge, he had the opportunity of being far
more extensively useful than he could be as a village clergyman, whose
ministerial labours had to be confined to a population of six hundred
souls. The two-fold position that he occupied is open to objection;
but, without all the facts, for and against it, to pronounce a decisive
judgment might be rash.

One thing is certain, Broughton’s secretaryship was not a sinecure. The
supervision of the missions in India and Georgia; the continuous printing
and publishing of Bibles, books, and tracts; the charity schools’
affairs; the publication of the annual Sermon and Report; and the
correspondence with more than seven hundred subscribing and corresponding
members, would find the Secretary quite enough of work, without the
claims of Allhallows, Lombard Street, or the parishioners of Wotton,
Surrey.

Two facts, connected with Broughton’s term of office, are too important
to be omitted.

In 1743, when Broughton became Secretary, Wales was almost without
Bibles, and the poverty of vast numbers of the people was such, that, it
was impossible for them to buy them. The Society for Promoting Christian
Knowledge, becoming acquainted with this disgraceful fact, appealed to
the public, without delay, for special contributions to publish a new
edition of the Bible in the Welsh language, with the Common Prayer, and
with the Psalms in Metre. The success of this appeal was such, that,
the Society issued an edition, in 1748, of 15,000 copies; in 1752, a
second edition of 15,000 Bibles, besides 5000 New Testaments, and as many
Prayer-Books; and, in 1768, a third edition, with marginal references, of
20,000 copies. These copies of the Holy Scriptures were not given, but
were sold at the lowest price possible.

Again: In 1763, it was ascertained, that, of the twenty thousand
inhabitants of the Isle of Man, a very large majority were _entirely_
ignorant of the English language; “and, yet, for many ages, the island
had been without the Bible in the vulgar tongue, and congregations were
necessitated to receive off-hand translations of the English Bible and
Common Prayer, according to the different sense, attention, and ability
of the officiating ministers.” To remedy this fearful state of things,
the Bishop of the Island began, in 1762, to collect subscriptions; and,
in 1763, transferred the matter to the Society for Promoting Christian
Knowledge. The result was, in 1768, the Society had printed in the
Manx language, and distributed in the Isle of Man, 1000 copies of the
four Gospels and of the Acts of the Apostles; 1500 Prayer-Books; 2000
Catechisms; and 1200 Christian Monitors. They were also proceeding with
the translation and printing of the rest of the Holy Scriptures; the
Apostolical Epistles being now, _for the first time_, translated into the
native language of the island.

Little more remains to be narrated. On Sunday morning, December 21, 1777,
in Hatton Garden, Broughton put on his ministerial robes, and, according
to his wont, retired into his room till church-time. The bells were
ringing, and he continued in his closet. They ceased, but he made no
appearance. His friends entered, and found him on his knees,—dead.[274]
An original portrait of him hangs in the Board Room of the Society for
Promoting Christian Knowledge, 67, Lincoln’s Inn Fields; from which the
engraving, in the present volume, has been taken.




OTHER OXFORD METHODISTS.


It is difficult to determine the exact number, who, at one time or
another, were Oxford Methodists. As early as the year 1733, four had left
the brotherhood, three of the seceders being pupils of Wesley, and one
under Clayton’s care. Wesley writes:—

    “I think, in the year 1735, we were fourteen or fifteen in
    number, all of one heart and of one mind.”[275]

The “fourteen or fifteen” included the two Wesleys and Whitefield,
Memoirs of whom have been designedly omitted in the present work. There
were, also, Clayton, Ingham, Gambold, Hervey, and Broughton, with whom
the reader has been made acquainted. Besides these, Robert Kirkham,
Charles Morgan, William Smith, and Matthew Salmon, who have been briefly
noticed, were, less or more, connected with them. Seven others, standing
in the same relationship, must now be mentioned,—namely, Messrs. Boyce,
Chapman, Kinchin, Hutchins, Atkinson, Whitelamb, and Hall. This is a
greater number than that stated by Wesley; but it must be recollected,
that, in 1735, Oxford Methodism was in the seventh year of its existence,
and that some of its first members had then left the University.


REV. MR. BOYCE.

Of Mr. Boyce we know nothing, except that his father lived at
Barton.[276] Did he subside into an ordinary country parish priest,—pious
and plodding, but unenterprising and unknown? To say the least, it would
be interesting to know his career, after he left Oxford. Will some one,
better informed than the present writer, furnish what is lacking?


REV. WILLIAM CHAPMAN.

The history of William Chapman also is wanting. He was ardently attached
to the two Wesleys; but, strangely enough, they never mention him. After
their departure from Oxford, he was the nightly companion of Hervey; but,
excepting the letter, dated “June 12, 1736,” already given in Hervey’s
Memoir (page 208), we possess no epistolary correspondence between the
two. Chapman, like all the other Oxford Methodists, was humble, earnest,
and devout. The following, hitherto unpublished, letter affords ample
evidence of this. It was addressed “To the Reverend Mr. John Wesley, at
Savannah, in Georgia, America.”

                             “PEMBROKE COLLEGE, _September 3, 1736_.

    “REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—Your kind concern and repeated
    endeavours for my spiritual good, while at Oxford, will not
    suffer me to think, that, you have utterly lost all remembrance
    of me, though you have given me no testimony of your affection
    since your leaving England. What shall I conjecture this
    silence to be owing to? I will not inquire; but rather take
    it as a providential punishment and scourge, for my slow and
    slender proficiency under the blessed means I enjoyed of
    your’s, and your dear brother’s conversation.

    “Too, too late, alas! do I see how dreadfully I was wanting to
    myself in not heartily embracing so glorious an opportunity
    of laying in a stock of spiritual courage, sufficient to have
    carried me victoriously on through a host of enemies. How does
    my base ingratitude to my Heavenly Benefactor, like a frightful
    spectre, present itself before me, for rejecting those kind
    offers of health and salvation! And for not disengaging
    myself from that bane of our spiritual progress,—_the fear
    of the world_,—which was always as fetters upon my feet, and
    manacles on my hands! O! through what a waste of uncomfortable,
    barren, and dry ground,—through what a wilderness of sorrows,
    perplexities, and distress, have I not been led, under the
    conduct of this delusive spirit; when the holy and loving
    Spirit of God would have led me into pleasant pastures, and
    refreshed my thirsty soul with the waters of comfort, and
    conducted me into those paths, which are pleasantness and
    peace. But, blessed be God! for the sense of these things,
    though, indeed, not till driven to it, by the pungency of the
    affliction, by the misery and torment of a divided state of
    heart, and the perpetual conflicts I endured. Blessed be the
    most high God! I am once again, I trust, in the strait and
    narrow way, that leadeth to the kingdom of heaven; from which
    that I may never stir a foot, till the cord of life is loosed,
    I dare say, you will not cease earnestly to request at the
    throne of grace.

    “I am sorry, I deferred writing till it was too late to say
    more; though I cannot help telling you, before I conclude,
    that, I sit every evening with Mr. Hervey,—that great champion
    of the Lord of Hosts; and, that, I read, five times a week, to
    a Religious Society, in St. Ebbs’ parish.

    “Dear Sir, God Almighty prosper all your endeavours for the
    good of souls! Depend upon it, in due time, you will reap, and
    that abundantly, if you faint not. My prayers are with you.
    O! that my body was there too, that, I might make up what I
    have lost, under such shining examples. Do, dear Sir, write me
    a long letter, by the first opportunity. Adieu! God and the
    Angels be with you!

    “I am yours, my dear Brother, sincerely in Christ,

                                                        “W. CHAPMAN.

    “My Lady Cocks and sisters are now in Oxford; and they desire
    their best services to you, and wish you good luck in the name
    of the Lord.”

It is hoped, that, this fragment of the religious experience of the
Oxford Methodists will not be unacceptable. The men were intensely
earnest and sincere, but not happy.


REV. CHARLES KINCHIN.

Charles Kinchin, a Fellow of Corpus Christi College,[277] left Oxford
about the same time the Wesleys did, and became Rector of Dummer, a small
village of about four hundred inhabitants, with a benefice, at present,
worth more than £400 a year. Like a good Oxford Methodist, he visited
from house to house, catechised the children, and had public prayers
twice every day,—in the morning, before the people went to work, and, in
the evening, after their return.

Towards the end of 1736, being likely to be chosen Dean of Corpus Christi
College, he requested Whitefield to supply his place at Dummer, while he
was absent on the business of the pending election. Whitefield writes:—

    “Mr. Kinchin’s parish, consisting chiefly of poor and
    illiterate people, my proud heart, at first, could not well
    brook. I would have given all the world for one of my Oxford
    friends, and mourned, for lack of them, like a dove. But,
    upon giving myself to prayer, and reading Mr. Law’s excellent
    character of _Ouranius_, in his _Serious Call to a Devout
    Life_, my mind was reconciled to such conversation as the place
    afforded me. Mr. Kinchin loved his people, and was beloved by
    them. I prosecuted his plan, and generally divided the day
    into three parts, eight hours for study and retirement, eight
    hours for sleep and meals, and eight hours for reading Prayers,
    catechising, and visiting the parish. The profit I reaped, by
    these exercises, and conversing with the poor country people,
    was unspeakable. I soon began to be as much delighted with
    their artless conversation, as I had been formerly with the
    company of my Oxford friends; and frequently learnt as much by
    an afternoon’s visit, as in a week’s study.”

Kinchin being elected Dean of Corpus Christi, was now frequently obliged
to reside at Oxford; but he still retained his rectory at Dummer,
where Whitefield was succeeded by Hervey. The Dean, however, continued
faithful to the principles of the Methodists, and, on the removal of
Hervey, Whitefield, and others from the University, willingly took upon
himself the spiritual charge of the Oxford prisoners. Charles Wesley on
his return from Georgia, hastened to Oxford, where, in February, 1737,
he met with his “old pupil, Robert Kirkham,” “good Mr. Gambold,” “poor
languid Smith,” and “Mr. Kinchin,” whom, says he, “I found changed into
a courageous soldier of Christ.” A year afterwards, W. Seward, speaks of
Kinchin _expounding_ at Oxford, and of “forty gownsmen” being among his
auditors.[278]

On March 15th, 1738, Wesley and Kinchin set out for Manchester,
accompanied by Kinchin, and a Mr. Fox, who had been an inmate of Oxford
prison. An extract from Wesley’s Journal will help to illustrate the
character, not of Wesley only, but, of Kinchin. Wesley writes:—

    “1738. Tuesday, March 14. I set out,” from Oxford, “for
    Manchester, with Mr. Kinchin, Fellow of Corpus Christi, and
    Mr. Fox, late a prisoner in the city prison. Between five and
    six, we called at Chapel-on-the-Heath; where lived a poor man,
    sometime prisoner in the castle of Oxford. He was not at home;
    but his wife came to us, to whom Mr. Kinchin spoke a few words,
    which so melted her heart, that she burst out into tears, and
    we went on rejoicing and praising God.

    “About eight, it being rainy and very dark, we lost our way;
    but, before nine, came to Shipston, having rode over, I know
    not how, a narrow foot-bridge, which lay across a deep ditch
    near the town. After supper, I read prayers to the people of
    the inn, and explained the Second Lesson; I hope not in vain.”

There is something beautiful in all this:—the two Oxford Methodists and
an ex-prisoner, in a dark and rainy night, making the lanes ring with
their praises to the Almighty, and, in the absence of a church, using a
country inn, for reading the Church liturgy and expounding the word of
God. Wesley proceeds:—

    “The next day, we dined at Birmingham, and, soon after we left
    it, were reproved for our negligence there, in letting those,
    who attended us, go without either exhortation or instruction,
    by a severe shower of hail. At Hedgeford, about five, we
    endeavoured to be more faithful; and all who heard seemed
    serious and affected.”

Here, again, is a useful lesson. As yet, neither Wesley nor Kinchin
had found peace with God, by trustful faith in Christ. They were, if
the reader likes the designation, _legalists_,—men seeking to be saved
by their own good works. Be it so; but, in their conscientiousness
with regard to duty, and in their earnest desire to be useful to their
fellow-men, they set an example to Christian travellers, which is not
generally followed. Wesley continues:—

    “In the evening, we came to Stafford. The mistress of the house
    joined with us in family prayer. The next morning, one of the
    servants appeared deeply affected, as did the ostler, before we
    went. Soon after breakfast, stepping into the stable, I spake
    a few words to those who were there. A stranger, who heard
    me, said, ‘Sir, I wish I was to travel with you;’ and, when I
    went into the house, followed me, and began abruptly, ‘Sir, I
    believe you are a good man, and I come to tell you a little of
    my life.’ The tears stood in his eyes all the time he spoke;
    and we hoped not a word which was said to him was lost.

    “At Newcastle, whither we came about ten, some, to whom we
    spoke at our inn, were very attentive; but a gay young woman
    waited on us, quite unconverted: however, we spoke on. When we
    went away, she fixed her eyes, and neither moved nor said one
    word, but appeared as much astonished as if she had seen one
    risen from the dead.

    “Coming to Holms-Chapel about three, we were surprised at being
    shown into a room where a cloth and plates were laid. Soon
    after, two men came in to dinner. Mr. Kinchin told them, if
    they pleased, that gentleman would ask a blessing for them.
    They stared, and, as it were, consented; but sat still while
    I did it, one of them with his hat on. We began to speak on
    turning to God, and went on, though they appeared utterly
    regardless. After a while, their countenances changed, and one
    of them stole off his hat, and, laying it down behind him,
    said, all we said was true; but he had been a grievous sinner,
    and not considered it as he ought; but he was resolved, with
    God’s help, now to turn to Him in earnest. We exhorted him and
    his companion, who now likewise drank in every word, to cry
    mightily to God, that, He would ‘send them help from His holy
    place.’

    “Being faint in the evening, I called at Altrincham, and there
    lit upon a Quaker, well skilled in, and therefore, as I soon
    found, sufficiently fond of controversy. After an hour spent
    therein, perhaps not in vain, I advised him to dispute as
    little as possible; but rather follow after holiness, and walk
    humbly with his God.”

Men like Kinchin and Wesley will never be without adventures. This long
three days’ journey, in the wintry weather, was filled with incidents,
by the earnest efforts of the travellers to be of service to those with
whom they met. They were scholars, gentlemen, and philanthropists.
Religion was all in all to them. They lived it; looked it; breathed
it. Everywhere, in the humble home of the quondam prisoner, the town
hotel, the country inn, and the ostler’s stable,—among waiters,
fellow-travellers, and disputatious Quakers,—they were equally about
their Master’s business. Would, that, in these days of unequalled
locomotion, men of such a spirit and of such behaviour were multiplied!

Three days were spent in Manchester, one of them “entirely with Mr.
Clayton, by whom,” says Wesley, “and the rest of our friends here, we
were much refreshed and strengthened.” On the Sunday, both the Oxford
Methodists “officiated at Salford Chapel”; and, on Monday, March 20th,
they set out on their return to Oxford. Wesley writes:—

    “Early in the morning, we left Manchester, taking with us Mr.
    Kinchin’s brother, for whom we came, to be entered at Oxford.
    We were fully determined to lose no opportunity of awakening,
    instructing, or exhorting, any whom we might meet with on
    our journey. At Knutsford, where we first stopped, all we
    spake to thankfully received the word of exhortation. But, at
    Talk-on-the-Hill, where we dined, she with whom we were was
    so much of a gentlewoman, that, for near an hour, our labour
    seemed to be in vain. However, we spoke on. Upon a sudden, she
    looked as one just awakened out of sleep. Every word sunk into
    her heart. Nor have I seen so entire a change, both in the
    eyes, face, and manner of speaking, of any one in so short a
    time.

    “About five, Mr. Kinchin riding by a man and woman
    double-horsed, the man said, ‘Sir, you ought to thank God it is
    a fair day; for, if it rained, you would be sadly dirty with
    your little horse.’ Mr. Kinchin answered, ‘True; and we ought
    to thank God for our life, and health, and food, and raiment,
    and all things.’ He then rode on, Mr. Fox following; the man
    said, ‘Sir, my mistress would be glad to have some more talk
    with that gentleman.’ We stayed, and when they came up began
    to search one another’s hearts. They came to us again in the
    evening, at our inn at Stone, where I explained both to them
    and many of their acquaintance, who were come together, that
    great truth,—godliness hath the promise both of this life, and
    of that which is to come.

    “Tuesday, March 21. Between nine and ten, we came to Hedgeford.
    Just then, one was giving an account of a young woman, who had
    dropped down dead there the day before. This gave us a fair
    occasion to exhort all that were present, ‘so to number’ their
    ‘days,’ that, they might apply their ‘hearts unto wisdom.’

    “In the afternoon, one overtook us, whom we soon found more
    inclined to speak than to hear. However, we spoke, and spared
    not. In the evening, we overtook a young man, a Quaker, who
    afterwards came to us, to our inn at Henley, whither he sent
    for the rest of his family, to join with us in prayer; to which
    I added, as usual, the exposition of the Second Lesson. Our
    other companion went with us a mile or two in the morning; and
    then not only spoke less than the day before, but took in good
    part a serious caution against talkativeness and vanity.

    “An hour after, we were overtook by an elderly gentleman, who
    said he was going to enter his son at Oxford. We asked, ‘At
    what college?’ He said, he did not know; having no acquaintance
    there on whose recommendation he could depend. After some
    conversation, he expressed a deep sense of the providence of
    God; and told us, he knew God had cast us in his way, in answer
    to his prayer. In the evening, we reached Oxford, rejoicing
    in our having received so many fresh instances of that great
    truth, ‘In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct
    thy paths.’”

In a moral and religious sense, this episode in the lives of the two
Oxford Methodists is pre-eminently picturesque. The two were of one mind
and heart, and all their energies and time were devoted to the service of
their great Master.

Four days were spent at Oxford, during which Wesley met Böhler, and was
“amazed more and more, by the account he gave of the fruits of living
faith,—the holiness and happiness which he affirmed to attend it.” And,
on Easter Monday, April 3rd, at Kinchin’s desire, Wesley went with him to
Dummer, where he remained, for him, the unusually lengthened period of a
fortnight. Here they doubtless pondered Böhler’s doctrines, and brought
them to the test of Scripture; and here, perhaps, was held a meeting,
which Wesley mentions, without giving the date and place of it.

    “Soon after my return to England,” he writes, “I had a meeting
    with Messrs. Ingham, Stonehouse, Hall, Hutchins, Kinchin, and
    a few other clergymen, who all appeared to be of one heart, as
    well as of one judgment, resolved to be Bible-Christians at
    all events; and, wherever they were, to preach, with all their
    might, plain old Bible Christianity.”[279]

Among others at Dummer, in whose religious interests Wesley took an
active interest, was Kinchin’s sister, who, three weeks after his
departure, wrote to him, as follows:—

    “You have been, I hope, an instrument, under God, of reclaiming
    me. I certainly was in a very unhappy state when you were here.
    God will recompense you for your prayers and kind offices. May
    my good God pour down the choicest of His blessings upon you,
    your mother, brothers, and sisters, and give us all grace, to
    strive and struggle against our sins. I beg you to join with
    me, in praying God to show forth His power in me. What a frail
    creature am I? I am afraid, I am sorely afraid, of falling
    back. What shall I do? What shall I do? O pray, I may put my
    whole trust in God, who is able and willing to help me.”[280]

Kinchin himself also wrote to Wesley the following simple and humble
letter:—

                                                     “_May 2, 1738._

    “REV. AND DEAR SIR,—My Lord and my God has made His servant
    a minister of the Gospel of His Son. He has committed to my
    care many immortal souls. And I am but a little child. I know
    not how to go out, or come in. Pray, therefore, earnestly for
    me, that, God would give His servant an understanding heart,
    to lead and instruct His people; that, I may discern between
    what is good and bad; for who is able to walk discreetly and
    uprightly before such a worldly-minded and refractory people? I
    beg the prayers and directions of my friends.

    “My sister is much mended in health. She has received much
    benefit from you, under God, as to her spiritual concerns.

    “Pray, write speedily to your sincere friend and servant,

                                                  “C. KINCHIN.”[281]

Letters like these show the religious confidence and friendship which
Kinchin and his sister cherished towards Wesley.

Kinchin, as yet, was only a penitent inquirer. In the month of August,
1738, Charles Wesley went to Oxford, and met him and Gambold, who, says
he, “surprised me, by receiving my hard saying, that they had not faith.
I was ashamed to see the great thankfulness, and child-like loving spirit
of Mr. Kinchin, even before justification.” They attended together a
Society meeting, where C. Wesley read his sermon on, “The Scripture hath
concluded all under sin.” He writes,—

    “I urged upon each my usual question, ‘Do you deserve to be
    damned?’ Mrs. Platt, with the utmost vehemence, cried out,
    ‘Yes, I do, I do!’ I prayed, that, if God saw there any
    contrite soul, He would fulfil His promise, of coming and
    making His abode with it. ‘If Thou hast sent Thy Spirit to
    reprove any sinner of sin, in the name of Jesus Christ, I claim
    salvation for that sinner.’ Again Mrs. Platt broke out into
    strong cries, but of joy, not sorrow, being quite overpowered
    with the love of Christ. I asked her, if she believed in Jesus.
    She answered in full assurance of faith. We sang and rejoiced
    over her (she still continued kneeling); but her voice was
    heard above ours. Mr. Kinchin asked, ‘Have you forgiveness of
    sins?’ ‘I am perfectly assured I have.’ ‘Have you the earnest
    of the Spirit in your heart?’ ‘I have; I know I have: I feel
    it now within.’ Her answers to these and the like questions,
    were expressive of the strongest confidence, to the great
    encouragement of all present.”[282]

This, especially at the time, was a strange scene; and Kinchin was
there as a listener and a learner. Soon after this, the two Wesleys
and Whitefield were almost uniformly excluded from the pulpits of the
Established Church. During the year 1739, Wesley himself was not allowed
to preach in more than eight; and one of these was the pulpit of his
friend Kinchin. In the month of March, when at Oxford, he wrote,—

    “At my return to Mrs. Fox’s, I found our dear brother Kinchin,
    just come from Dummer. We rejoiced, and gave thanks, and
    prayed, and took sweet counsel together; the result of which
    was, instead of setting out for London, as I designed, I set
    out for Dummer, there being no person to supply his church on
    Sunday.”

Wesley, and his brother, and Whitefield were now, by force of
circumstances, evangelistic itinerants; ordained clergymen, without
churches, and yet preaching everywhere; and Kinchin was inclined to join
them. It was, at this momentous period, that Hervey wrote to him the
letter, dated, “April 18, 1739,” an extract from which has been already
given (see page 220). Whether that letter turned him from his purpose,
there is no means of knowing. Any how, his decision, comparatively
speaking, was of little consequence, for his work was nearly ended. In
spirit, in aim, and in doctrine, however, he thoroughly sympathized with
his outcast brethren, and, in time of need, sought their counsel and
their prayers. The following is an extract from a long letter addressed
to Wesley, and hitherto unpublished.[283]

                                         “DUMMER, _October 9, 1739_.

    “MY DEAR BROTHER,—I am just setting out for Oxford, and
    thence, probably, for London, in order to print my sermon, on
    the Necessity and Work of the New Birth. I have revised and
    enlarged it, have made a Preface, and also written a Dedication
    to the vice-chancellor, Dr. Mather, the Heads of Houses,
    with their Societies. Mr. Hutchins has perused the whole.
    I shall have him at Dummer while I am absent. I asked the
    vice-Chancellor for the use of the University press; but his
    answer was, that, he could not consent to it. I have written
    him a letter, desiring him to peruse the discourse, before
    he absolutely refuses the press; but he has made no reply. I
    propose, therefore, to wait upon him at Oxford, to know whether
    he received my letter. I also intend to ask Mr. Gambold and Mr.
    Wills to peruse my sermon. If I had any opportunity, I would
    be glad for you to see it too. I desire your prayers, and the
    prayers of your friends around you, that, God will bless my
    journey, and my design in publishing the discourse.

    “We all join in love to you, and all around you; and constantly
    pray for you, and desire your prayers. If you write within a
    week, direct to Mr. Fox’s.

                        “Your unworthy brother,

                                                       “C. KINCHIN.”

In a little more than two years after this, Kinchin entered into rest.
Wesley writes:—

    “1742. January 4. This day, I understand, poor Charles Kinchin
    died.

    “Cui pudor, et justitia soror,
    Incorrupta fides, nudaque veritas,
      Quando ullum invenient parem?”

This was high praise from a man like Wesley; but it was not unmerited.


REV. RICHARD HUTCHINS, D.D.

It has been already stated, that, Dr. Hutchins was Hervey’s tutor. We
have no further information concerning him, except the following, kindly
supplied, from the Register of Lincoln College, Oxford, by the present
Rector:—

    “1720. December 8. Richard Hutchins, B.A., was admitted to the
    rights and privileges of a Fellow of Lincoln College.”

    “1739. November 6. Mr. Hutchins was chosen Sub-Rector.”

    “1742. November 6. Mr. Hutchins was chosen Bursar and
    Librarian.”

    “1755. July 9. Richard Hutchins, D.D., Fellow in one of the
    Founder’s Fellowships for the Diocese of Lincoln, was, on
    this day, unanimously elected Rector of this College. And
    straightway a letter was drawn up, in the very words prescribed
    by the College Statutes, in order to its being sent to the Lord
    Bishop of Lincoln, sealed with the college seal, and subscribed
    by all the electors present, certifying their said election to
    his lordship, and praying him to admit to the Rectorship of
    this College the said Richard Hutchins, Sub-Rector.”

    “Dr. Richard Hutchins, our late worthy Rector, departed this
    life, on Friday, 10th August, 1781.”

The only publication by Dr. Hutchins, which we have seen, is a Latin
sermon, delivered at the time of his being made Doctor of Divinity, in
1747, and with the following title,—“Elucidatio Sexti Capitis Evangelii
secundem Johannem, in solenni Praelectione habita in Schola Theologica
Oxon, pro Gradu Doctoris in Theologia. A. Ric. Hutchins, S. T. B. Colleg.
Lincoln Socio., 1747,” 8 vol. 51 pp. The sermon is learned and spiritual;
and the reader may infer what were the views and sympathies of its
author, when it is stated, that, the third and _principal_ division,
is, that, the body and blood of Christ are communicated to the faithful
in the Eucharist. In more respects than one, Dr. Hutchins continued an
Oxford Methodist long after all his old friends had been dispersed.


REV. CHRISTOPHER ATKINSON.

In the Parish Register of Thorp-Arch, near to Wetherby, in the county
of York, there is the following entry, in Christopher Atkinson’s own
hand-writing:—

    “The Rev. Christopher Atkinson, born in the parish of
    Windermere, Westmoreland, April, 1713, was inducted Vicar of
    Thorp-Arch and Walton, in July, 1749.”[284]

Here, for a quarter of a century, Mr. Atkinson lived and laboured. He and
Ingham were not distant neighbours, and close at hand were flourishing
societies of Methodists; and, yet, there is no evidence, that either
Ingham, the Wesleys or Whitefield ever paid him visits. Why was this? It
is impossible to tell. The two villages of Thorp-Arch and Walton were
small, not containing a population of more than about three hundred
each; but they were not remote from Otley, Leeds, and York, places which
Wesley, at least, often visited.

Mr. Atkinson had a large family, and a church income hardly equal to
his wants.[285] One of his sons, the Rev. Miles Atkinson, rose to
considerable eminence. Besides being Vicar of Kippax, Lecturer of the
parish church in Leeds, and Incumbent of St. Paul’s, in that important
town, he was the author of “Practical Sermons,” in two octavo volumes,
and had the honour of being sneered at by the half-infidel _Monthly
Review_ of the period in which he lived. The famous “Billy” Dawson was
greatly benefited by his ministry and friendship in early life; and,
in 1779, at Atkinson’s request, Wesley preached in the parish church,
at Leeds, to such a congregation as had seldom been assembled within
its walls. In spirit and in doctrine, Miles Atkinson was thoroughly in
harmony with the Methodists; and, from such a circumstance, perhaps, it
may with safety be inferred, that, in this respect, he was walking in the
footsteps of his father.

A happy death is generally the sequence of a holy and useful life; and
such a death was that of Atkinson, the Oxford Methodist. The details are
here given in the language of the son just mentioned. He visited him on
the day of his decease, and thus writes:—

    “My father walked out of doors to the very last, even in the
    morning of the day he died. I said to him, ‘I hope, sir,
    your confidence is in the Lord Jesus Christ.’ He answered,
    ‘Entirely. I have no hope or confidence but in Him only. I am
    very sensible, that, I am, in myself, a poor, guilty, helpless
    sinner before God. I find, I have been guilty of every sin.
    There is not a commandment which I have not broken; but the
    Lord Jesus Christ is my Saviour. His blood is sufficient for
    me. I rest upon His promises, and, (laying his head upon his
    breast and looking up) ‘I feel the Spirit of God now supporting
    me.’

    “Two of his twelve children had not arrived; but, fearing his
    understanding might begin to fail, I asked him if he would like
    my mother and the rest of his children to be called up, that we
    might pray together, and receive his blessing. He immediately
    assented, and desired me to pray. The scene was very affecting.
    He seemed to be very fervent; and, when the prayer was over,
    he tenderly and affectionately saluted us all, and invoked the
    blessing of God in Christ Jesus. Soon after, he spoke to me
    about the place in the churchyard, where he wished his body
    to be laid, and then said, ‘Oh, son, I now feel the vanity of
    life. We often talk in health about its emptiness; but this is
    the trying hour. I now experience it. My God! what a condition
    should I now be in, if the business of eternity was unbegun!’
    And, then, he proceeded to speak of Christ and the happiness
    of heaven. His voice faltered; but, at one time, I heard him
    say ‘Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly;’ and, at another, ‘I have
    finished my course, I have fought the good fight. Henceforth,
    there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the
    Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me in that day.’ He next
    addressed his children, and said, ‘My dear children, whatever
    you have seen faulty in me, be careful to avoid; if you have
    seen anything praiseworthy, that imitate and pursue. But, oh!
    mind the one thing needful. Let God be your portion. Seek unto
    Him through the gracious Redeemer, and doubt not but He will
    provide for you what is necessary in this world. My dear wife,
    trust in God. O, my God, look down upon this my family, and let
    Thy blessing rest upon them! Guide them by Thy blessed Spirit!’

    “He continued praying, in a kind of feeble murmur until about
    the three last breaths he drew; and then, at half-past four
    o’clock, on Monday afternoon, July 11, 1774, expired, aged
    sixty-one years, leaving behind him a wife and twelve children.

    “His last words to one of his daughters were, ‘My love, would
    you recall me from happiness?’”

Christopher Atkinson lies interred in the burial ground of Thorp-Arch
church, of which he was the minister for five-and-twenty years.


REV. JOHN WHITELAMB.

John Whitelamb, the son of poor parents, was born in 1707, in the
neighbourhood of Wroot, a small village of about three hundred
inhabitants, in the county of Lincoln. The village stands upon an
eminence, surrounded by 60,000 acres of land, which, in Whitelamb’s days,
were often flooded, rendering Wroot accessible only by boats. The land,
also, even at the best of times, was fenny, moorish, swampy.

About the time of Whitelamb’s birth, Henry Travis, Esq., of London,
bequeathed three hundred and seventy-nine acres of land, for the
endowment of three schools, at Wroot, Hatfield, and Thorne, in which
children, male and female, were to be taught to read English, especially
the Bible and Catechism, and to be well instructed in the principles of
the Christian religion. The Archbishop of York was to be special visitor;
the children were to be elected by the clergyman of each of the three
respective parishes, and by his churchwardens; and on leaving school, and
attaining the age of seventeen, each scholar was to be presented with
a Bible and the “Whole Duty of Man.” It was in the charity school, at
Wroot, that Whitelamb received the rudiments of his education.

It is well known, that, Wesley’s father was rector of both Epworth and
Wroot, and that his greatest literary work was his “Dissertationes in
Librum Jobi,” a large-size folio book of 600 pages. Samuel Wesley was
employed upon this remarkable production for more than five-and-twenty
years. On leaving school, young Whitelamb became his amanuensis. For four
years, he was occupied in transcribing the aged rector’s Dissertations.
He also designed its illustrations, several of which he also engraved.

While resident beneath the roof of Samuel Wesley, Whitelamb acquired a
sufficient knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages, to enter Lincoln
College, Oxford, where he was principally maintained by the Epworth
Rector, and had Wesley for his tutor.

Samuel Wesley was a large-hearted man, to whom it was always a happiness
to have the power of showing kindness to a fellow-creature. His own early
life had been an almost friendless one. With an insatiable thirst for
knowledge, he had to pursue it “under difficulties.” Bitter experience
had taught him the preciousness of a friend’s assistance. These facts
were quite sufficient to render the poor boy, from the Wroot Charity
School, an object of affectionate regard; but there were others beside
these. John Whitelamb was the son of one of Samuel Wesley’s peasant
parishioners; as an amanuensis, he had rendered the Rector important
service for four long years; and, more than that, he had been the means
of saving the Rector’s life. In a letter, dated, “Epworth, September 5,
1728,” Samuel Wesley writes:—

    “God has given me two fair escapes for life within these few
    weeks. The first was when my old nag fell with me, trailed me
    in the stirrups by one foot, and trod upon the other, 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 against a keel. Two of our horses were
    pitched overboard, and the boat was filled with water. I was
    just preparing to swim for life” (he was then sixty-six years
    of age), “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.”

Remembering all this, it will be felt, that, it was a grateful, as well
as generous, act, for Samuel Wesley to send his youthful helper and
deliverer to Lincoln College, Oxford.

Whitelamb’s going to Oxford must have taken place soon after Samuel
Wesley’s providential deliverance from being drowned; for, five years
after this, he had finished his collegiate education, and become the
Rector’s curate, and son-in-law.

Whitelamb was a steady student. “John Whitelamb,” wrote Wesley, in 1731,—

    “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 an one, of his standing, in
    Lincoln College, perhaps not in the University of Oxford.”

Like his patrons, however, Whitelamb was very poor; and poverty always
implies trials. The young gentlemen of Oxford, as a rule, had ample
means, and could dress accordingly; but Whitelamb, without a purse, had
to submit to the indignity of wearing a worn-out college gown. Wesley,
his tutor, pitied him, and yet had scarcely the ability to help him.
Hence the following, to his brother Samuel, under the date of “November
17, 1731:”

    “John Whitelamb wants a gown much, and I am not rich enough
    to buy him one at present If you are willing that my twenty
    shillings (that were) should go toward that, I will add ten
    to them, and let it lie till I have tried my interest with my
    friends to make up the price of a new one.”

No wonder that Susannah Wesley used to call Whitelamb “poor starveling
Johnny.” His position was a proud, and yet a painful one.

In 1733, Whitelamb became Samuel Wesley’s curate, and, soon afterwards,
married his daughter Mary. Whitelamb’s wife was eleven years older than
himself; and, through affliction in early life, and, probably, some
mismanagement in her nurse, was of stunted growth, and considerably
deformed; but her face was exquisitely beautiful, and her amiable temper
made her the delight and favourite of the whole of the Wesley family. In
her elegy, written by her accomplished sister Mehetabel, and published in
the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1736, are the following lines:—

    “From earliest dawn of life, through Thee alone,
    The saint sublime, the finished 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 cloyed,
    No moment of thy time passed unemployed,
    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.”

Such was John Whitelamb’s wife. To provide for the newly-married pair,
Samuel Wesley resigned to Whitelamb his rectory at Wroot. The village was
sequestered, and the surrounding country, to a great extent, a swamp.
The church, also, was extremely unpretending, and its walls composed
of boulder stones which, in 1794, were used in paving Epworth streets.
Still, there was a field for usefulness, and a benefice, which _now_ is
worth about £260 a year. Samuel Wesley’s letter to the Lord Chancellor is
so characteristic of both himself and his son-in-law, that its insertion
is not irrelevant.

                                                “_January 14, 1734._

    “MY LORD,—The small rectory of Wroot, in the diocese and county
    of Lincoln, 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 time I have had it, the people have lost the fruits
    of the earth to that degree, that it has hardly brought me £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, 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 became my curate at
    Epworth, while I came up to town to expedite the printing of my
    book.

    “Since then, I gave my 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. 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 my 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.”

His lordship complied with this request, and, in the _Gentleman’s
Magazine_ for the ensuing month, February, 1734, in the list of
ecclesiastical preferments, was the following:—“Mr. Whitelamb to the
rectory of Wroot, Lincolnshire.”

Immediately after, Whitelamb and his wife removed to Wroot, and took
“true pains among the people.” Their parsonage is thus described by
Samuel Wesley, junior:—

    “The house is good, and strong, and clean,
    Though there no battlements are seen,
    But humble roof of thatch, I ween,
      Low rooms from rain to cover.
    Where, safe from poverty, (sore ill!)
    All may live happy if they will,
    As any that St. James’s fill,
      The Escurial, or the Louvre.”

Their parishioners were sketched by Mehetabel Wesley, in the lines
following:—

    “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.”

The pictures are not attractive; but, despite their thatched residence,
and the boorishness of the people among whom they lived, Whitelamb and
his wife were happy. Their union, however, was of brief duration. Within
one short year of her marriage, the grave received all that was mortal of
Mrs. Whitelamb and her infant child. She died in childbirth, at the end
of October, 1734.

This was a terrible stroke to the young husband. For a season, he was
inconsolable, and, to divert him from his trouble, his father-in-law
brought him to the Epworth Rectory. This was just about the time when
Oglethorpe returned from Georgia, whither he had gone with his first
company of motley emigrants. Samuel Wesley, now within six months of his
decease, took an intense interest in the Georgian colony, and declared
that, if he had been ten years younger, he would gladly have devoted the
remainder of his life and labours to the emigrants, and in acquiring
the language of the Indians among whom they had to live. Among others
who had gone to Georgia with Oglethorpe, and had returned with him, was
John Lyndal, one of Samuel Wesley’s parishioners, of whom the venerable
Rector earnestly inquired whether the ministers who had migrated to the
infant colony understood the Indian language, and could preach without
interpreters. All this tended to turn poor Whitelamb’s thoughts to
Georgia; and, five weeks after Mrs. Whitelamb’s death, the Rector of
Epworth wrote to General Oglethorpe as follows:—

                                       “EPWORTH, _December 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 without sighing, when I 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.”

Samuel Wesley then proceeds to give an account of the life of Whitelamb,
and continues:—

    “I 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 childbed 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 received the favour of yours, and let him
    see it for diversion; more especially, because John Lyndal and
    he had been fellow-parishioners and schoolfellows 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, to forward the matter as
    far as possible.

    “As for his character, I shall take it upon myself to say, 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; 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, 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, ever remaining your honour’s most
    sincere and most obliged friend and servant,

                                                    “SAMUEL WESLEY.”

Samuel Wesley died within five months after the date of this application
to Oglethorpe; his son-in-law, John Whitelamb, for some unknown reason,
did not go to Georgia; but his sons John and Charles set sail for the
recently founded colony on October 14, 1735.

Did Whitelamb miss the way of Providence in not becoming a Georgian
missionary? Perhaps he did. At all events, the remaining thirty-four
years of his life seem to have been of comparatively small importance
to his fellow-men. While the two Wesleys, his brothers-in-law, and
Whitefield, were preaching everywhere, and, with Christian heroism, were
braving the most infernal and brutish persecutions; while Clayton, in
Manchester, was living the active life of a Church of England Ritualist,
and Ingham, in Yorkshire, was performing the part of a useful evangelist;
while Gambold was restraining Moravian follies, and Broughton was doing
his utmost to disperse Bibles, and religious books and tracts;—poor,
bereaved Whitelamb seems to have sunk down into a disconsolate and nearly
useless widowerhood, and to have spent,—_wasted_, we had almost said,—his
dreary life among the unappreciative dolts, so graphically described by
his deceased wife’s sister—Mehetabel. It is true, he had the care of
about three hundred souls; but, with his natural ability and collegiate
education, he might, in addition to fulfilling his parochial duties, have
rendered other service to the Church of Christ, and to mankind at large.
At all events, his venerable patron did not sleep away his probationary
being as his son-in-law, John Whitelamb, did.

It is a significant fact, that, though Whitelamb lived at Wroot nearly
forty years after Wesley began his itinerant career, and though the
visits of the latter, to Epworth and the neighbourhood, were numerous, he
never, excepting once, and that during his first evangelistic tour to the
north of England, came to Wroot. He writes:—

    “1742, Sunday, June 13. At seven I preached at Haxey, on, ‘What
    must I do to be saved?’ Thence I went to Wroot, of which, as
    well as Epworth, my father was rector for several years. Mr.
    Whitelamb offering me the church, I preached, in the morning,
    on, ‘Ask, and it shall be given you;’ in the afternoon, on
    the difference between the righteousness of the law and the
    righteousness of faith. But the church could not contain the
    people, many of whom came from far; and, I trust, not in vain.
    At six, I preached in Epworth churchyard to a vast multitude
    gathered together from all parts, on the beginning of our
    Lord’s Sermon on the Mount. I continued among them for near
    three hours, and yet we scarce knew how to part.”

It ought to be said, that, Wesley had been at Epworth and in the
neighbourhood for the last eight days. He had preached from his father’s
tombstone, from, “The kingdom of God is not meat and drink; but
righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost;” and again, from,
“By grace are ye saved through faith;” and a third time from, “Unto him
that worketh not, but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly,
his faith is counted to him for righteousness;” and a fourth, either
from the tombstone or in the street, on Friday, the 11th of June, on,
“Ezekiel’s vision of the resurrection of the dry bones;” and a fifth, on
the day before he went to Wroot, from the same subject as he took at the
afternoon service in Whitelamb’s church. His visit had occasioned immense
excitement. During the sermon, on Friday, “lamentation and great mourning
were heard; God bowing the hearts of the people, so that, on every side,
as with one accord, they lifted up their voice and wept aloud;” and, on
Saturday, he writes:—

    “While I was speaking several dropped down as dead; and such
    a cry was heard of sinners groaning for the righteousness of
    faith as almost drowned my voice. But many of these soon lifted
    up their heads with joy, and broke out into thanksgiving,
    being assured that they now had the desire of their soul—the
    forgiveness of their sins.”

Whitelamb was present at one, at least, of these Epworth services; and,
like others, was deeply impressed with the preacher’s doctrines; but,
strangely enough, seems not to have spoken to him. Two days afterwards,
however, he wrote to Wesley, and this, probably, occasioned the visit to
Wroot just mentioned. His letter was as follows:—

                                                   “_June 11, 1742._

    “DEAR BROTHER,—I saw you at Epworth, on Tuesday evening.
    Fain would I have spoken to you, but that I am quite at a
    loss how to address or behave. Your way of thinking is so
    extraordinary,[286] that, your presence creates an awe, as if
    you were an inhabitant of another world. God grant you and your
    followers may always have entire liberty of conscience! Will
    you not allow others the same? Indeed, I cannot think as you
    do, any more than I can help honouring and loving you.

    “Dear sir, will you credit me? I retain the highest veneration
    for you. The sight of you moves me strangely. My heart
    overflows with gratitude. I feel, in a higher 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. This is he whom I have there
    heard expound, or dispute publicly, or preach at St. Mary’s,
    with such applause. And Oh that I should ever add, whom I have
    lately heard preach at Epworth!’[287]

    “I am quite forgot. None of the family ever honours me with
    line! Have I been ungrateful? I appeal to sister Patty; I
    appeal to Mr. Ellison,[288] 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 oblige you in any way?
    Glad I should be, that, you would make use of me. God open all
    our eyes, and lead us into truth, whatever it be.

                                              “JOHN WHITELAMB.”[289]

This is a curious letter. It is evident, that, there was, at least,
a partial estrangement between Whitelamb and the Wesley family.
Correspondence had ceased; and, even when Wesley visited Epworth, and
Whitelamb was one of his hearers, they parted without speaking. Why was
this? Whitelamb did not believe in Wesley’s doctrines; but that is hardly
sufficient to account for such a fact. Perhaps the reason may be found in
Whitelamb’s own confession, that, he had “been passionate, fickle, and
a fool,” though it is impossible to tell to what such words referred.
In the melancholy state of mind in which he obviously was, the epithets
might be a severer condemnation of himself than his spirit and behaviour
had merited. Be that as it may, though Whitelamb lived for twenty-seven
years after this, and though, with undeniable sincerity, he professes
great gratitude for the past kindness of the Wesley family, and ardent
and affectionate admiration of Wesley himself, this was the winding up of
their friendly intercourse. Wesley says, with what correctness we know
not, that, at “this time, and for some years afterwards,” Whitelamb “did
not believe the Christian Revelation;” but whether Wesley meant, that,
Whitelamb was a disbeliever in the Bible as a whole, or only in those
doctrines of the Bible which Wesley and his friends were daily preaching,
it is impossible to say. If he meant the former, we incline to think
there must have been some mistake; for, unless Whitelamb were the most
arrant knave, he must, in such a case, have relinquished his high office
of the Christian ministry. If Wesley meant the latter, his words are too
strong, and it was an injustice to Whitelamb’s character and memory to
insert them in the _Arminian Magazine_.

Wesley’s and Whitelamb’s intercourse, at Wroot, seems to have been
friendly and pleasant; but allowing the Arch-Methodist to preach in the
humble pulpit of the little church gave great offence, and perhaps this
was _one_ of the reasons why Wesley ceased to visit him. The following
letter, written within three months after Wesley’s visit, is full of
interest, and furnishes additional evidence, that, the young widower had
been guilty of serious follies, and, as a consequence, had been eschewed
by the Wesley family. It was addressed to Wesley’s brother Charles.

                                         WROOT, _September 2, 1742_.

    “DEAR BROTHER,—I must make bold to give you that title. I was
    informed, that, you have entertained so hard an opinion of
    me as scarcely to hear me named with patience. This made me
    fear, the sight of me would not be agreeable. However, I have
    ventured to write, lest I should confirm that opinion by a
    behaviour that seems to show neglect and ingratitude.

    “It is probably not in my power to alter your sentiments of
    me; but there is a day, which you and I expect, when it will
    appear, that, J. Whitelamb was never either ungrateful, or
    vicious; though, by the heat of youthful blood, and the want of
    experience of the world, he has been betrayed into very great
    follies.

    “I had the happiness and honour (for I account it both) of
    seeing and conversing with my brother John, when he was last
    over. 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.

    “Dear sir, command me in anything, whereby I can show my regard
    to you, or the family; provided conscience be not concerned.
    Alas! that I should be forced to distinguish Mr. Wesley,
    from the preacher! My brother John demanded[290] my pulpit.
    By the authority of a tutor, and one to whom I have so great
    obligations, he has the disposal of whatever is mine. However,
    I find, by the outcry it caused, that it gives very great
    offence. I know not what measures may be taken against me, this
    triennial visitation; nor am I so solicitous about it, as I
    am uneasy that the interest of religion and the public peace
    should, in the least, suffer by my means.

    “For, to be frank, I cannot but look upon your doctrines as of
    ill consequence. Consequence, I say; for, take them nakedly
    in themselves, and nothing seems more innocent, nay, good
    and holy. Suppose we grant, that, in you and the rest of the
    leaders, who are men of sense and discernment, what is called
    the seal and testimony of the Spirit, is something real; yet,
    I have great reason to think, that, in the generality of your
    followers, it is merely the effect of a heated fancy.

    “So much for dispute; and I beg you will forgive me it. Oh
    that we could so have met, as that there should have been no
    contention, but in loving one another!

    “I promised my tutor to write to him. Since then, I have had a
    dangerous illness. I am scarce well recovered; and, besides, it
    has left behind such a drowsy disposition, as I have not yet
    had resolution to conquer. I hope to fulfil my promise shortly.
    I have endeavoured to lay myself quite open to truth; and this
    (with shame I ought to say it) has cost me some pains. My dear
    mother Wesley, and poor sister Kezzy are gone.[291] God of the
    spirits of all flesh, grant us all to meet in a happy eternity!

    “Dear brother, are you in earnest in what you teach? I cannot
    persuade any of my friends that you are. If you be, give me
    your prayers. If not, do not, as you have formerly done,
    ridicule me for being too religious. You little thought, when
    you laughed at me, for being shocked at your gay discourse,
    that you yourself should come to maintain the very notions
    which I had then.

           “I am, your obliged and most affectionate brother,

                                              “JOHN WHITELAMB.”[292]

The last sentence of this letter is significant. John Whitelamb was
religious before Charles Wesley was. When Charles was elected to Christ
Church, in 1726, he was a sprightly, rollicking young man, with more
genius than grace. In 1728, or 1729, “he began to attend the weekly
sacrament, and induced two or three other students to attend with him;”
and this was really the beginning of the Methodist movement. It is a
curious fact, that, this was the very time when Whitelamb went to Oxford.
Was John Whitelamb, a young man of twenty-one, fresh from the religious
atmosphere of the Epworth rectory, the means of reforming the sprightly
Charles Wesley; and, in that indirect way, the means of Methodism being
started? The question has never before been put; and it is one which,
perhaps, cannot, with certainty, be answered.

Of the last twenty-seven years of Whitelamb’s life we know nothing. More
than a quarter of a century ago, an aged female, at Wroot, had a distinct
recollection of him, and described him “as a person of retiring habits,
and fond of solitude.” She was present when he was suddenly seized, while
on his way to perform divine service at the church, with the illness
which shortly terminated in his death; and spoke of his funeral as having
been attended by a considerable number of clergymen, who thus paid their
last tribute of respect to a departed friend.[293]

Whitelamb died in the month of July, 1769; and, three months afterwards,
Wesley wrote to Mrs. Woodhouse, of Epworth, as follows:—

    “1769, October 4. How long is it since Mr. Whitelamb died? What
    disease did he die of? Did he lie ill for any time? Do you know
    any circumstances preceding or attending his death? Oh, why did
    he not die forty years ago, while he knew in whom he believed?
    Unsearchable are the counsels of God, and His ways past finding
    out.

                                                 “JOHN WESLEY.”[294]

Wesley evidently knew nothing of the circumstances of Whitelamb’s death;
and his contrast in reference to the religious state of the deceased
rector of Wroot “forty years ago” appears to be hardly generous. “Forty
years ago” Methodism was just beginning; and it was not until nine years
afterwards, that, Wesley himself attained the knowledge of being saved,
not by good works, but, by faith in Christ.

In Wroot churchyard, a small stone, about two feet long and one foot
broad, bears the following inscription:—

    “In memory of John Whitelamb, Rector of this Parish thirty-five
    years. Buried 29th of July, 1769, aged 62 years. Worthy of
    imitation. This at the cost of Francis Wood, Esq., 1772.”


REV. WESTLEY HALL.

It is far from pleasant to conclude a book in darkness and in pollution;
but, in the present case, it cannot be avoided. In most flocks, there is,
at least, one objectionable sheep; and few are the brotherhoods without
offenders. Among the patriarchs, Reuben, by sin, forfeited the rights of
primogeniture and the priesthood; and, among the apostles, Judas Iscariot
was an infamous betrayer. History not only supplies examples, but hoists
beacons. The former are useful, and the latter not unneeded. The story
of the Oxford Methodists cannot be fully told without a reference to the
sin and shame of Westley Hall. The subject is a nauseous one; but, it may
help to enforce the apostolic admonition, founded upon the same kind of
historic facts,—“Wherefore, let him that thinketh he standeth take heed
lest he fall.”

Of the origin of Westley Hall and his early life, we are ignorant.

At Lincoln College, Oxford, he was one of Wesley’s pupils, and was a man
of agreeable person, pleasing manners, and good property. The time of
his joining the Methodist brotherhood is not known; but Susanna Wesley,
writing to her son John, on October 25, 1732, observes:—

    “I heartily join with your small Society in all their pious and
    charitable actions, which are intended for God’s glory; and
    am glad to hear that Mr. Clayton and Mr. Hall have met with
    desired success. You do well to wait on the Bishop; though, if
    he be a good man, I cannot think it in the power of any one to
    prejudice him against you. Your arguments against horse-races
    do certainly conclude against masquerades, balls, plays,
    operas, and all such light and vain diversions, which, whether
    the gay people of the world will own it or no, do strongly
    confirm and strengthen the lust of the flesh, the lust of the
    eye, and the pride of life; all of which we must renounce, or
    renounce our God and hope of eternal salvation. I will not say,
    it is impossible for a person to have any sense of religion,
    who frequents those vile assemblies; but I never, throughout
    the course of my long life, knew so much as one serious
    Christian that did; nor can I see how a lover of God can have
    any relish for such vain amusements.”[295]

Hall seems to have been ordained as early as the year 1734. Hence, in
another letter, dated March 30, 1734, Wesley’s mother, after referring to
the religious practices of the Oxford Methodists and other matters, says,—

    “I cannot think Mr. Hall does well in refusing an opportunity
    of doing so much service to religion, as he certainly might do,
    if he accepted the living he is about to refuse. Surely, there
    never was more need of orthodox, sober divines in our Lord’s
    vineyard, than there is now; and why a man of his extraordinary
    piety, and love to souls, should decline the service in this
    critical juncture, I cannot conceive. But this is none of my
    business.”[296]

These extracts furnish the reader with a glimpse of Hall at Oxford.
Wesley himself testifies that, while at the University, Hall “was
holy and unblamable in all manner of conversation.” In what his
“_extraordinary_ piety” consisted, we are not informed; but it is a
curious fact, that, he, of all men, made ostentatious professions of his
having the gift mentioned by the Divine Redeemer (Matt. xix. 10-12).[297]
This reads oddly in connection with the following extract from one of
Wesley’s letters:—

    “1784, August 31. Many years ago, Mr. Hall, then strong in
    faith, believed God called him to marry my youngest sister. He
    told her so. She fully believed him, and none could convince
    one or the other to the contrary. I talked with her about it;
    but she had ‘so often made it matter of prayer, that, she could
    not be deceived.’ In a week, he dropped her, courted her elder
    sister, and, as soon as was convenient, married her.”[298]

What is the history of this strange transaction? Martha Wesley was born
in 1707; Kezziah, her sister, in 1710. About the year 1734, Westley Hall
met Martha at her uncle’s house in London, proposed to marry her, and,
without the knowledge of her parents, or her brothers, was accepted. He
then accompanied John and Charles to Epworth, and there saw Kezziah,
grew enamoured of her, courted, and obtained her consent, and that of
the family in general, to marry him; all of them being ignorant of
his pre-engagement with Martha. Returning to London, Hall renewed his
addresses to “poor Patty,” who was completely unconscious of what had
transpired at Epworth. She wrote to her mother, stating, that for some
time past, she had been betrothed to Hall. Kezziah, on learning this,
renounced all claim to him. The mother wrote to Martha, assuring her,
“that, if she obtained the consent of her uncle, there was no obstacle”
to the marriage. The uncle raised no objection; gave Martha a dowry of
£500; and the wedding was completed.

Such, in outline, is the account given by Dr. Adam Clarke. It is not
without difficulties. Knowing all the facts, Mrs. Wesley’s approbation is
unaccountable, except on the ground, that, now and for years afterwards,
she held a high opinion of Hall’s piety and character. Charles Wesley,
at the time, was excessively indignant, and wrote to Martha a poetical
epistle full of terrible invective; and yet, soon afterwards, when the
Wesleys were about to embark for Georgia, it was arranged that Hall
should attend them, indicating, that, some sort of a reconciliation had
taken place between Charles and Hall. The following are selections from
Charles’s poem:—

    “When he, who long in virtue’s paths had trod,
    Deaf to the voice of conscience and of God,
    Drops the fair mask, proves traitor to his vow,
    And thou the temptress, and the tempted thou,—
    Prepare thee then to meet the infernal war,
    And dare beyond what woman knows to dare;
    Guard each avenue to thy fluttering heart,
    ...

    “Trembling, I hear his horrid vows renewed,
    I see him come, by _Delia’s_ groans pursued.
    Poor injured Delia! all her groans are vain;
    Or he denies, or, listening, mocks her pain.
    What, though her eyes with ceaseless tears o’erflow,
    Her bosom heave with agonizing woe;
    What, though the horror of his falsehood near
    Tear up her faith, and plunge her in despair;
    Yet can he think (so blind to heaven’s decree,
    And the sure fate of cursed apostasy),
    Soon as he tells the secret of his breast,
    And puts the angel off—and stands confessed,
    When love, and grief, and shame, and anguish meet,
    To make his crimes and _Delia’s_ wrongs complete,
    That, then the injured maid will cease to grieve,
    Behold him in a sister’s arms, and live!
    Mistaken wretch—by thy unkindness hurled
    From ease, from love, from thee, and from the world;
    Soon must she land on that immortal shore,
    Where falsehood never can torment her more:
    There all her sufferings and her sorrows cease,
    Nor saints turn devils there to vex her peace!”

Poor jilted Kezziah took the matter more calmly. In a letter to her
brother John, dated June 16, 1734, not long before Martha’s marriage, she
observed,—

    “I intended not to write till I could give you an account of
    Mr. Hall’s affair; but it is needless, because, I believe,
    he won’t do anything without your approbation. I am entirely
    of your opinion, that, we ought to ‘endeavour after perfect
    resignation’; and I have learned to practise this duty in one
    particular, which, I think, is of the greatest importance in
    life, namely, marriage. I am as indifferent as it is lawful
    for any person to be, whether I ever change my state or not;
    because, I think a single life is the more excellent way; and
    there are also several reasons why I rather desire to continue
    as I am. One is, because, I desire to be entirely disengaged
    from the world; but the chief is, I am so well apprized of
    the great duty a wife owes to her husband, that, I think it
    is almost impossible she should ever discharge it as she
    ought. But I can scarce say, I have the liberty of choosing;
    for my relations are continually soliciting me to marry. I
    shall endeavour to be as resigned and cheerful as possible to
    whatever God is pleased to ordain for me.”

Comment on the above facts would not be difficult; but the reader must
form his own opinion on all the parties concerned in this mournful
business. We only add a copy of verses printed in the _Gentleman’s
Magazine_, for September, 1735, p. 551,—verses portraying a nuptial life,
the very opposite of that which awaited the unfortunately wedded couple.

    “ON THE MARRIAGE OF MR. WESTLEY HALL TO MISS PATTY WESLEY.

    “Hymen, light thy purest flame,
      Every sacred rite prepare;
    Never to thy altar came
      A more pious, faithful pair.

    “Thee, dispensing mighty pleasure,
      Rashly sensual minds invoke;
    Only those partake thy treasure
      Paired in Virtue’s easy yoke.

    “Such are _Hall_ and _Wesley_ joining,
      Kindred souls with plighting hands,
    Each to each entire resigning,
      _One become_ by nuptial bands.

    “Happy union, which destroys
      Half the ills of life below;
    But the current of our joys
      Makes with double vigour flow.

    “Sympathising friends abate
      The severer strokes of fate;
    Happy hours still happier prove
      When they smile on those we love.

    “Joys to vulgar minds unknown
      Shall their daily converse crown;
    Easy slumbers, pure delights,
      Bless their ever peaceful nights.

    “Oh Lucina, sacred power,
      Here employ thy grateful care;
    Smiling on the genial hour,
      Give an offspring wise and fair!

    “That, when the zealous sire shall charm no more
    Th’ attentive audience with his sacred lore,
    Those lips in silence closed, whose heavenly skill
    Could raptures with persuasive words instil;
    A _son_ may in the important work engage,
    And with his precepts mend the future age:
    That, when the accomplished mother, snatched by fate,
    No more shall grace the matrimonial state;
    No more exhibit, in her virtuous life,
    The bright exemplar of a perfect wife;
    A _daughter_, blest with each maternal grace,
    May shine the pattern of the female race!”

As already related (see pp. 65-67), it was fully arranged, that, a
month after the appearance of this epithalamium, Westley Hall and his
newly-wedded wife should accompany the Wesleys to Georgia; and, that, at
the last moment, Hall declined to go, on the ground, that, his uncle and
his mother had engaged to obtain for him an English benefice. The man, in
more respects than one, was double-minded. In unstableness, as well as
incontinency, he was Reuben _redivivus_.

The church appointment, secured for Hall, seems to have been the office
of curate, at Wootton-Rivers, a small village of about four hundred
inhabitants, in the county of Wilts. Here he took, not only his wife,
but, strangely enough, Kezziah Wesley, with whose affections he had so
basely trifled. The two sisters were evidently reconciled; but their
brother Samuel, a keen judge of character, regarded Hall with feelings of
suspicion and dislike. Hence the following extract from one of Samuel’s
letters, dated, “Blundell’s School, Tiverton, Devon, September 29, 1736,”
and addressed to his brother Charles in Georgia:—

    “Brother Hall’s is a black story. There was no great likelihood
    of his being a favourite with me: his tongue is too smooth for
    my roughness, and rather inclines me to suspect than believe.
    Indeed, I little suspected the horrid truth; but, finding him
    on the reserve, I thought, he was something like Rivington, and
    feared me as a jester; which is a sure sign either of guilt
    on the one hand, or pride on the other. It is certainly true
    of that marriage; it will not, and it cannot come to good. He
    is now at a curacy in Wiltshire, near Marlborough. I have no
    correspondence with Kez.: I did design it after reading yours;
    but the hearing, that, she is gone to live with Patty and her
    husband made me drop my design.”

It was certainly a strange,—an almost unaccountable thing, for Kezziah
Wesley to become domiciled with such a man. It is true, her venerable
father had died just about the time of the ill-fated marriage, leaving
both her mother and herself without a home; but the mother had found a
welcome in the house of her son Samuel; who was also wishful to have
Kezziah beneath his roof, if his brother John would continue to allow her
£50 a year.[299] Why, then, did she go to Westley Hall’s? Samuel Wesley
strongly disapproved of this; and so also did his brother Charles. Hence
the following, from Charles’s Journal, written only three days after his
return from Georgia:—

    “1736, December 6. I spent an hour at my uncle’s, equally
    welcome and unexpected. They informed me, my brother Hall was
    gone to a curacy, very melancholy, and impatient at the mention
    of Georgia; and that my sister Kezzy was gone to live with him.

    “Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agnæ.”

Hall was a hawk among the doves of the Wesley family. There was dislike,
and there was also a reasonable suspicion. A sort of truce existed;
but it was hollow and uncertain. Samuel Wesley regarded Hall as a
smooth-tongued hypocrite, and evidently thought his sister Kezziah had
made a great mistake in making the house of Hall her domicile. Charles
Wesley was equally dissatisfied, as is evident from his Latin quotation;
and, yet, ten weeks after writing thus, he went to Hall’s himself, as a
friendly visitor, and spent a week with the reverend _coquet_, and with
his “sisters, Patt and Kez.”[300] Indeed, a few months afterwards, Mrs.
Wesley, the widow, who had taken up her residence at the house of her
son Samuel, at Tiverton, removed to Hall’s at Wootton-Rivers, where, on
August 5, 1737, she wrote:—

    “Mr. Hall and his wife are very good to me. He behaves like a
    gentleman and a Christian; and my daughter with as much duty
    and tenderness as can be expressed.”[301]

Shortly after this, Westley Hall seems to have removed to Salisbury.
Hence the following entry in Charles Wesley’s Journal:—

    “1737, December 29. I supped in Salisbury, at my brother
    Hall’s.”

In 1739, he came to London. In a letter, to her son Samuel, dated “March
8, 1739,” Mrs. Wesley writes:—

    “I have been informed, that, Mr. Hall intends to remove his
    family to London, hath taken a house, and I must (if it please
    God I live) go with them.”[302]

Here he associated with Wesley and his brother, and, like them, was soon
involved in the Moravian squabbles. A “famous French Prophetess,” of the
name of Lavington, sprang up among them, who, at one of their meetings,
on June 7, 1739, asked, “Can a man attain perfection here?” Charles
Wesley answered, “No.” The Prophetess began groaning. Charles turned
and said, “If you have anything to speak, speak it.” She lifted up her
voice, like the lady on the tripod, and cried out vehemently, “Look for
perfection; I say, absolute perfection!” Charles writes:—

    “I was minded to rebuke her; but God gave me uncommon
    recollection, and command of spirit, so that, I sat quiet, and
    replied not. I offered, at last, to sing, which she allowed,
    but did not join. Bray pressed me to stay, and hear her pray.
    They knelt; I stood. She prayed most pompously. I durst not
    say, Amen. She concluded with a horrible, hellish laugh; and
    showed violent displeasure against our baptized Quaker, saying,
    ‘God had showed her, He would destroy all outward things.’”

On the three following days, Charles Wesley took the depositions of
certain parties, “concerning her lewd life and conversation;” read the
account to the Society; and warned his friends against her. On June 12th,
at another of their meetings, she again appeared. Charles remarks:—

    “She flew upon us like a tigress; tried to outface me; and
    insisted, that, she was immediately inspired. I prayed. She
    cried, ‘The devil was in me. I was a fool, a blockhead, a blind
    leader of the blind.’ She roared outrageously; said, it was the
    lion in her. (True; but not the Lion of Judah.) She _would_
    come to the Society in spite of me: if not, they would all go
    down. I asked, ‘Who is on God’s side? Who for the old Prophets
    rather than the new? Let them follow me.’ They followed me into
    the preaching room. I prayed, and expounded the lesson with
    extraordinary power.”

The next day, the two Wesleys, with their brother-in-law, Westley Hall,
met the Society, and discussed “the Prophetess’s affair.” Charles Wesley
says,—

    “Bray and Bowers were much humbled. All agreed to disown the
    prophetess. Brother Hall proposed expelling Shaw and Wolf. We
    consented, _nem. con._, that, their names should be erased out
    of the Society-book, because they disowned themselves members
    of the Church of England.”

Thus we find Westley Hall employed in silencing the profanities of a
half-crazed woman, and expelling men from a religious society, because
they would not acknowledge themselves to be members of the Established
Church.

It is not known in what church Hall officiated during his residence in
London; but there is one circumstance connected with his ministry while
here, too interesting to be omitted. At this period, the great themes
of the preaching and of the conversation of Wesley and his brother were
their newly found doctrines of Justification by Faith only, the Witness
of the Spirit, and the New Birth. For many a long year, Susannah Wesley
had been one of the most Christian women then living; but her sons’
doctrine of the Witness of the Spirit was one of which she had scarcely
ever heard. Now, however, at the age of seventy, and only three years
before her death, she obtained the blessing for herself, and obtained it
under the ministry of Westley Hall. Wesley writes:—

    “1739, September 3. I talked largely with my mother, who told
    me, that, till a short time since, she had scarce heard such
    a thing mentioned as the having God’s Spirit bearing witness
    with our spirit: much less did she imagine, that, this was the
    common privilege of all true believers. ‘Therefore,’ said she,
    ‘I never durst ask it for myself. But two or three weeks ago,
    while my son Hall was pronouncing those words, in delivering
    the cup to me,—The blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was
    given for thee,—the words struck my heart, and I knew, God, for
    Christ’s sake, had forgiven me all my sins.’”

Westley Hall, though a clergyman of the Established Church, continued
to attend the Moravian meetings; and, to his credit, it ought to be
recorded, that, for a time at least, he withstood the Moravian heresies.
Charles Wesley writes:—

    “1740, May 14. I found Mr. Hall at Fetter Lane, asking them,
    whether they would try their spirits by the Word, or the Word
    by their spirits. I enforced the question, which they strove
    to evade. Rabbi Hutton[303] forbade their answering me. I
    warned the few remaining brethren to beware of the leaven of
    _stillness_; showed them the delusion of those who had cast off
    the ordinances, and confined the faith to _themselves only_; I
    foretold the dreadful consequences of their enthusiasm; set the
    case of Gregor before their eyes; besought, entreated, conjured
    them not to renounce the means, or deny the Lord that bought
    them; read a letter from one who had been strongly tempted
    to leave off the Sacrament, but, in receiving, was powerfully
    convinced that her dissuader was the devil. Hodges, Hall, and
    Howel Harris confirmed my words. Others were hereby emboldened
    to bear their testimony to the divine ordinances. By the
    strength of the Lord, we have stood between the living and the
    dead; and the plague, we trust, is stayed.”

Fickleness was one of Westley Hall’s characteristic faults. Within a
twelvemonth after this resistance of the Moravian _stillness_, he himself
adopted it, and argued against the two Wesleys, that, “silent prayer, and
quiet waiting for God, was the only possible way to attain living, saving
faith.”[304]

Still, Hall and the Wesley brothers continued to be on friendly terms;
so much so, that, when Whitefield and Wesley quarrelled respecting the
doctrine of “Free Grace,” and Whitefield declared his intention to
attack Wesley and his brother wherever he went, Westley Hall assumed
the office of peace-maker, waited upon Whitefield, and reminded him of
a promise, he had made, “that, whatever his private opinion was, he
would never publicly preach against” them.[305] This, however, was not
of long duration. At the close of 1739, Wesley took possession of “The
Foundry,” which he fitted up as a place for preaching and the meetings
of his London Society. Here, he, also, opened a day-school for the
children of the poor; and, over the band-room, there were apartments,
occupied by his mother and himself. Here, the Stewards and Leaders met to
receive and distribute money, and to manage the general affairs of the
London Methodists. Westley Hall seems to have held some sort of office
at the Foundry; and he began, during Wesley’s absence in the north, to
be treacherous to Wesley himself, as, seven years before, he had been to
Wesley’s sister Kezziah. Wesley writes:—

    “1742, Sunday, October 31. Several of the leaders desired to
    have an hour’s conversation with me. I found, they were greatly
    perplexed about ‘want of management, ill-husbandry, encouraging
    idleness, improper distribution of money,’ ‘being imposed
    upon by fair pretences,’ and ‘men who talked well, but had no
    grace in their hearts.’ I asked, who those men were; but that
    they could not tell. Who encouraged idleness; when and how;
    what money had been improperly distributed; by whom, and to
    whom; in what instances I had been imposed upon (as I presumed
    they meant _me_); and what were the particulars of that
    ill-husbandry and mismanagement of which they complained. They
    stared at one another as men in amaze. I began to be amazed
    too, not being able to imagine what was the matter, till one
    dropped a word, by which all came out. They had been talking
    with Mr. Hall, who had started so many objections against all I
    said or did, that, they were in the utmost consternation, till
    the fire thus broke out, which then at once vanished away.”

Wesley’s mother had died in the Foundry three months previous to this
disclosure; and Wesley had invited Hall and his wife (who had been
bereaved of several children) to take up their residence in his own
humble dwelling. The following letter, addressed to Mrs. Hall, refers to
this and other matters.

                              “NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE, _Nov. 17, 1742_.

    “DEAR SISTER,—I believe the death of your children is a great
    instance of the goodness of God towards you. You have often
    mentioned to me how much of your time they took up. Now that
    time is restored to you, and you have nothing to do but to
    serve the Lord without carefulness and without distraction,
    till you are sanctified in body, soul, and spirit.

    “As soon as I saw Mr. Hall, I invited him to stay at the
    Foundry; but he desired I would have him excused. There is a
    strange inconsistency in his tempers and sentiments with regard
    to me. The _still brethren_[306] have gradually infused into
    him as much as they could of their own contempt of me and my
    brother, and dislike of our whole method of proceeding, which
    is as different from theirs as light from darkness. Nay, they
    have blunderingly taught him to find fault even with my economy
    and want of management both of my family and society. Whereas,
    I know this is the peculiar talent which God has given me,
    wherein (by His grace) I am not behind the very chiefest of
    them. Notwithstanding this, there remains in him something of
    his old regard for me, which he had at Oxford; and, by-and-by,
    it will prevail. He will find out these wretched men, and the
    clouds will flee away.

    “My belief is, that, the present design of God, is to visit the
    poor desolate Church of England; and, that, therefore, neither
    deluded Mr. Gambold, nor any who leave it, will prosper. O pray
    for the peace of Jerusalem. ‘They shall prosper that love thee.’

    “Mr. Hall has paid me for the books. I don’t want any money
    of you; your love is sufficient. But write, as often and as
    largely as you can, to your affectionate friend and brother,

                                                 “JOHN WESLEY.”[307]

Not long after this, “poor Moravianized Mr. Hall,” as Charles Wesley
calls him, seems to have removed to Salisbury, and there to have occupied
a chapel, and set up a Society of his own, which his wife refused to
join. Charles Wesley writes:—

    “1743, August 11. From ten to two, I got with my sister Hall
    in Salisbury. She stands alone. Every soul of her husband’s
    Society has forsaken the ordinances of God; for which reason
    she refuses to belong to it.”

Westley Hall was now an avowed Dissenter. His wife objected to leave the
Church of her venerable father. Her husband’s disciples jeered her; and,
before long, her husband himself committed against her the most cruel
wrongs. Another extract from Charles Wesley’s Journal will be useful. On
his way from London to Bristol, he wrote:—

    “1745, June 19. Three miles on this side Salisbury, a _still_
    sister came out to meet, and try her skill upon, me. But,
    alas! it was labour lost! I knew the _happy sinner_, and all
    her paces. I found my sister as a rock in the midst of waves.
    Mr. Hall’s Society had all left the Church, and mocked and
    persecuted her for not leaving it. Many pressed me to preach;
    but I answered them, ‘My heart was not _free_ to it.’ At four,
    I set out with my sister; and reached Bristol in the afternoon
    of the next day.”

Six months after this, Hall, not satisfied with his dissenting success
at Salisbury, used his utmost endeavours to make converts of the two
Wesley brothers. To John Wesley he wrote a long letter, earnestly
pressing him and his brother “to renounce the Church of England.” Hall’s
letter is lost; but Wesley’s answer exists, and is too important to be
omitted. It exhibits the ground taken by Hall, and shows the position and
difficulties of some, at least, of the Oxford Methodists.

                                               “_December 30, 1745._

    “DEAR BROTHER,—Now you act the part of a friend. It has long
    been our desire, that, you would speak freely. And we will do
    the same. What we know not yet, may God reveal to us!

    “You think, First, that, we undertake to _defend_ some things,
    which are not _defensible_ by the _Word of God_. You instance
    three: on each of which we will explain ourselves as clearly as
    we can.

    “1. ‘That, the _validity_ of our _ministry_ depends on
    a _succession_ supposed to be from the Apostles, and a
    _commission_ derived from the Pope of _Rome_, and his
    _successors_ or _dependents_.’

    “We believe, it would not be right for us to _administer_,
    either Baptism or the Lord’s Supper, unless we had a
    _commission_ so to do from those Bishops, whom we apprehend to
    be in a _succession_ from the Apostles. And, yet, we allow,
    these Bishops are the successors of those, who are dependent on
    the Bishop of _Rome_. But, we would be glad to know, on what
    reasons you believe this to be inconsistent with the Word of
    God.

    “2. ‘That, there is an _outward Priesthood_, and consequently
    an _outward Sacrifice_, ordained and offered by the Bishop of
    _Rome_, and his _successors_ or _dependents_, in the Church of
    _England_, as _vicars_ and vicegerents of Christ.’

    “We believe there is and always was, in _every_ Christian
    Church (whether dependent on the Bishop of _Rome_ or not) an
    _outward Priesthood_ ordained by Jesus Christ, and an _outward
    Sacrifice_ offered therein, by men authorized to act, as
    _Ambassadors of Christ, and Stewards of the mysteries of God_.
    On what grounds do you believe, that, Christ has abolished that
    _Priesthood or Sacrifice_?

    “3. ‘That, this _Papal Hierarchy_ and _Prelacy_, which still
    continues in the Church of England, is of _Apostolical
    Institution_, and authorized thereby; though not by the
    _written Word_.’

    “We believe, that, the threefold order of ministers, (which you
    seem to mean by _Papal Hierarchy_ and _Prelacy_,) is not only
    authorized by its _Apostolical Institution_, but also by the
    _written Word_. Yet, we are willing to hear and weigh whatever
    reasons induce you to believe to the contrary.

    “You think, Secondly, ‘That, we ourselves give up some things
    as _indefensible_, which are defended by the same law and
    _authority_, that establish the things above mentioned: such
    as are many of the _Laws_, _Customs_, and _Practices_ of the
    _Ecclesiastical Courts_.’

    “We allow, 1. That, those _Laws_, _Customs_, and _Practices_
    are really _indefensible_; 2. That, there are Acts of
    Parliament, in _defence_ of them; and also of the threefold
    order. But, will you show us, how it follows, either, 1. that,
    those things and these stand or fall together? Or, 2. that, we
    cannot _sincerely plead for_ the one, though we _give up_ the
    other? Do you not here quite overlook one circumstance, which
    might be a key to our whole behaviour? Namely, that, we no more
    look upon those _filthy abuses_, which _adhere_ to our Church,
    as _parts_ of the building; than we look upon any _filth_ which
    may _adhere_ to the walls of _Westminster Abbey_, as a part of
    that structure.

    “You think, Thirdly, ‘That, there are other things which
    we _defend_ and _practise_, in _open contradiction_ to the
    _Orders_ of the Church of _England_. And this you judge to be a
    _just exception_ against the _sincerity_ of our _professions_
    to adhere to it.’

    “Compare what we _profess_ with what we _practise_, and you
    will possibly be of another judgment. We profess, 1. That,
    we will obey all the laws of that Church, (such we allow the
    Rubrics to be, but not the Customs of the Ecclesiastical
    Courts,) so far as we can with a safe conscience. 2. That, we
    will obey, with the same restriction, the Bishops, as executors
    of those _laws_. But their bare _will_, distinct from those
    _laws_, we do not _profess_ to obey at all. Now point out, What
    is there in our _practice_, which is an _open contradiction_ to
    these _professions_?

    “Is _Field-Preaching_? Not at all. It is contrary to no law,
    which we _profess_ to obey.

    “The allowing _Lay-Preachers_? We are not clear, that,
    this is contrary to any _such law_. But, if it is, this is
    one of the exempt cases; one wherein we cannot obey with a
    safe conscience. Therefore, (be it right or wrong on other
    accounts,) it is however no just exception against our
    sincerity.

    “The _Rules_ and _Directions_ given to our _Societies_? which,
    you say, is a discipline _utterly forbidden_ by the _Bishops_.
    When and where did any Bishop _forbid_ this? And if any did, by
    what _law_? We know not either the man who ever _did_ forbid,
    or the law by which he _could_ forbid it.

    “The allowing _persons_ (for we require none) to _communicate_
    at the chapel, in contradiction, (you think,) to _all those
    Rubrics_, which require _all_ to attend _always_, on their own
    _parish_ church and _pastor_, and to receive _only_ at his
    table?

    “Which Rubrics are those? We cannot find them. And, till these
    are produced, all that is so frequently said of _parochial_
    unity, etc., is merely _gratis dictum_. Consequently, neither
    is this any just exception against the sincerity of any of our
    professions.

                                                 “JOHN WESLEY.”[308]

This long, but sententiously expressed letter is of considerable
importance. It contains the arguments employed by Hall to induce Wesley
and his brother to renounce their connection with the Church of England;
and it shows, that, notwithstanding the novel steps that Wesley had
taken during the last half a dozen years, he still, in some respects,
belonged to the High-Church clergy, and believed in the popish figment
of apostolical succession, and could talk of the “_outward Sacrifice_”
offered in the Church.

Hall failed to convert Wesley to his Dissenting principles; and
equally failed to persuade him to abandon out-door preaching, the
employment of lay-evangelists, and the administration of the sacraments
in unconsecrated chapels. The two old friends were not yet finally
separated; but they had no confidence in each other. A few months after
the date of the above letter, Wesley wrote as follows:—

    “1746. July 20. I set out for Salisbury, where, to my utter
    amazement, Mr. Hall desired me to preach. Was his motive only,
    to grace his own cause? Or rather, was this the last gasp of
    expiring love?”

The last gasp of expiring love it proved. In a little more than a year
afterwards, Hall infamously deserted his wife and family. From a letter,
published in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_, and dated “Salisbury, October
30, 1747,” we learn, that, “by an uncommon appearance of sanctity, joined
with indefatigable labour in field and house preaching,” he had drawn
“multitudes of the meaner sort, both of Dissenters and the Established
Church, to attend him. And, though he had continually advanced the
grossest absurdities, both in his preaching and writings,[309] yet, he
so bewitched his followers, that, his words had greater weight with them
than the words of Christ and His Apostles.” The writer continues,—

    “Last Wednesday, he took formal leave of his corrupted flock,
    and had the impudence to justify his infamous conduct from
    the case of Elkanah, (1 Sam. i. 1, 2), which he largely
    expounded. On Friday morning, he set out for London, having
    first stripped his wife, (a virtuous woman by whom he has had
    several children,) of all her childbed linen, and whatever he
    could readily convert into money, leaving her in the deepest
    distress. The fire of jealousy has broken out in many families,
    where _wives_ or _daughters_ were his followers.”

At the time of this disgraceful occurrence, Charles Wesley was in
Ireland; but John, with as little delay as possible, hastened to the
desolate home of his forsaken sister, where he wrote:—

    “From the concurrent account of many witnesses, who spoke no
    more than they personally knew, I now learned as much as is
    hitherto brought to light concerning the fall of poor Mr.
    Hall. Twelve years ago, he was, without all question, filled
    with faith and the love of God. He was a pattern of humility,
    meekness, seriousness, and, above all, of self-denial; so
    that, in all England, I knew not his fellow. It were easy
    to point out the several steps, whereby he fell from his
    steadfastness; even till he fell into a course of adultery,
    yea, and avowed it in the face of the sun!”

Wesley wrote to the miserable delinquent the following long, faithful,
and Christian letter, in which “the several steps, whereby he fell from
his steadfastness” are enumerated.

                                       “LONDON, _December 22, 1747_.

    “DEAR BROTHER,—1. When you were at Oxford with me, fourteen or
    fifteen years ago, you were holy and unblamable in all manner
    of conversation. I greatly rejoiced in the grace of God, which
    was given unto you, which was often a blessing to my own soul.
    Yet, even then, you had frequently starts of thought, which
    were not of God, though they at first appeared so to be. But
    you were humble and teachable: you were easily convinced, and
    those imaginations vanished away.

    “2. More than twelve years ago, you told me, God had revealed
    it to you, that you should marry my youngest sister. I was much
    surprised, being well assured that you were able to receive our
    Lord’s saying, (so you had continually testified,) and to be an
    ‘eunuch for the kingdom of heaven’s sake.’ But, you vehemently
    affirmed, the thing was of God; you were certain it was His
    will. God had made it plain to you, that, you must marry,
    and, that, she was the very person. You asked, and gained her
    consent, and fixed the circumstances relating thereto.

    “3. Hence, I date your fall. Here were several faults in one.
    You leaned altogether to your own understanding, not consulting
    either me, who was then the guide of your soul, or the parents
    of your intended wife, till you had settled the whole affair.
    And while you followed the voice of nature, you said it was the
    voice of God.

    “4. In a few days, you had a counter revelation, that, you
    were not to marry her, but her sister. This last error was far
    worse than the first. But, you were now quite above conviction.
    So, in spite of her poor, astonished parent, of her brothers,
    of all your vows and promises, you shortly after jilted the
    younger, and married the elder sister. The other, who had
    honoured you as an angel from heaven, and still loved you much
    too well, (for you had stolen her heart from the God of her
    youth,) refused to be comforted. She fell into a lingering
    illness, which terminated in her death. And doth not her blood
    still cry unto God from the earth? Surely it is upon _your_
    head.

    “5. Till this time, you were a pattern of lowliness, meekness,
    seriousness, and continual advertence to the presence of God;
    and, above all, of self-denial of every kind, and of suffering
    all things with joyfulness. But there was now a worm at the
    root of the gourd. Yet, it did not presently wither away; but,
    for two years or more, after your marriage, you behaved nearly
    the same as before.

    “Then anger and surliness began to appear, particularly toward
    your wife. But it was not long before you were sensible of
    this, and you seemed to have conquered it.

    “6. You went up to London ten years ago. After this, you
    began to speak on any head; not with your usual diffidence
    and self-abasement, but with a kind of confidence in your own
    judgment, and an air of self-sufficiency. A natural consequence
    was, the treating with more sharpness and contempt those who
    opposed either your judgment or practice.

    “7. You came to live at London. You then, for a season,
    appeared to gain ground again. You acted in concert with my
    brother and me; heard our advice, and sometimes followed
    it. But, this continued only till you contracted a fresh
    acquaintance with some of the Brethren of Fetter Lane.
    Henceforward, you were quite shut up to us; we had no manner of
    influence over you. You were more and more prejudiced against
    us, and would receive nothing which we said.

    “8. About six years ago, you removed to Salisbury, and began a
    society there. For a year or two, you went with them to church
    and sacrament, and simply preached faith working by love. God
    was with you, and they increased both in number, and in the
    knowledge and love of God.

    “About four years since, you broke off all friendship with
    us. You would not so much as make use of our hymns, either in
    public or private; but laid them quite aside, and took the
    German Hymn-book in their stead.

    “You would not willingly suffer any of your people to read
    anything which we wrote. You angrily caught one of my sermons
    out of your servant’s hand, saying, you would have no such
    books read in your house. In much the same manner, you
    spoke to Mrs. Whitemarsh, when you found her reading one of
    the “Appeals.” So that, as far as in you lay, you fixed a
    great gulf between us and you, which remains to this day,
    notwithstanding a few steps lately made towards a re-union.

    “About the same time, you left off going to church, as well
    as to the sacrament. Your followers very soon trod in your
    steps; and, not content with neglecting the ordinances of God,
    they began, after your example, to _despise_ them, and all
    that continued to use them, speaking with equal contempt of
    the public service, of private prayer, of baptism, and of the
    Lord’s Supper.

    “From this time, also, you began to espouse and teach many
    uncommon opinions: as, that, there is no resurrection of the
    body; that, there is no general judgment to come; and, that,
    there is no hell, no worm that never dieth, no fire that never
    shall be quenched.

    “9. Your seriousness and advertence to the presence of God,
    now, declined daily. You could talk on anything or nothing,
    just as others did. You could break a jest, or laugh at it
    heartily; and, as for fasting, abstinence, and self-denial,
    you, with the Moravians, trampled it under foot.”

In an interjected note, Wesley says,—

    In the following paragraphs, I recited to him the things he
    had done with regard to more than one, or two, or three women,
    concluding thus:—

    “And now you know not that you have done anything amiss! You
    can eat and drink and be merry! You are every day engaged with
    variety of company, and frequent the coffee houses! Alas, my
    brother, what is this? How are you above measure hardened by
    the deceitfulness of sin? Do you remember the story of Santon
    Barsisa? I pray God, your last end may not be like his! Oh, how
    you have grieved the Spirit of God! Return to Him with weeping,
    fasting, and mourning. You are in the very belly of hell; only
    the pit hath not shut its mouth upon you. Arise, thou sleeper,
    and call upon thy God! Perhaps, He may yet be found. Because
    He still bears with _me_, I cannot despair for _you_. But you
    have not a moment to lose. May God, this instant, strike you to
    the heart, that you may feel His wrath abiding on you, and have
    no rest in your bones, by reason of your sin, till all your
    iniquities are done away.”

                                                      “JOHN WESLEY.”

What success attended Wesley’s honest letter? Hall had left his wife at
the end of October, 1747. Three months afterwards, he had returned to
Salisbury; and Wesley, on his way to Bristol, resolved to call on him. He
writes:—

                                                “_1748. January 26._

    “Mr. Hall, having heard I was coming, had given strict orders,
    that no one should let me in. The inner door he had locked
    himself, and, I suppose, taken away the key. Yet, when I
    knocked at the outer gate, which was locked also, William Sims
    opened the wicket. I walked straight in. A girl stood in the
    gateway, but turned as soon as she saw me. I followed close
    at her heels, and went in after her at a back door. I asked
    the maid, ‘Where is Mr. Hall?’ She said, ‘In the parlour,’ and
    went in to him. I followed her, and found him sitting with my
    sister, but he presently rose and went up-stairs. He then sent
    William Sims down, and bid him, ‘Tell my brother he has no
    business in my house.’ After a few minutes, I went to a house
    in the town, and my sister came to me. In about an hour, she
    returned home; but he sent word to the gate, she might go to
    the place whence she came. I met a little company, gathered
    up out of the wreck, both in the evening, and at five in the
    morning, and exhorted them to go on in the Bible way, and not
    to be wise above that is written.”

Having thus failed in his attempt to reason with Westley Hall, and having
tried to be of use to a mere handful of the best of the faithless man’s
followers, Wesley, two days afterwards, went on his way to Bristol.

Things grew worse and worse. Hall’s first female victim was a young
woman, employed in his house as a seamstress. Other infidelities
followed; until, at length, his much-enduring wife was driven from him.
The man became a professed polygamist. Life at home became intolerable
to “poor Patty;” and, even when she fled from the husband, who had become
a monster and a brute, again and again she and her brothers were harassed
by his following her. The following are extracts from her brother
Charles’s Journal:—

    “_1750. August 13._—I met my sister Hall in the churchyard,”
    (Bristol) “and carried her to the room. I had begun preaching,
    when Mr. Hall walked up the room, and through the desk, and
    carried her off with him. I was somewhat disturbed; yet went on.

    “_August 15._—He came up again, calling me by my name. I fled,
    and he pursued; but could not find me in my lurking place.

    “_1751. June 4._—Instead of proceeding in Ezekiel, I expounded”
    (at Bristol) “Hebrew x. 34: ‘Now the just shall live by faith;
    but, if he draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.’ I
    saw the reason with Mr. Hall. He came up toward the desk. Mr.
    Hamilton stopped him. I gave out a hymn. He sang louder than
    us all. I spoke sharply of his apostasy, and prayed earnestly
    for him; desired their prayers for me, lest, after preaching to
    others, I myself, also, should be a castaway. He walked away,
    turned back, threatened. The people were all in tears, and
    agony of prayer.”

There is something horrible in such a scene as this. Westley Hall was
“now a settled Deist;”[310] and, yet, here we find him, with stentorian
lustiness, and in mockery, singing, in the midst of a disturbed
congregation, one of Charles Wesley’s Christian hymns. The man seemed
to be abandoned by his God, and left to his own corrupted passions. He
is said to have thrown off all restraint, and all regard to decency. He
publicly and privately recommended polygamy, as conformable to nature,
preached in its defence, and practised as he preached. For years, he
lived the life of an adventurer, and a profligate; acting sometimes as a
physician, sometimes as priest, or figured away with his sword, cane, and
scarlet cloak; assuming any character, according to his humour, or the
convenience of the day.[311]

His wife had borne him ten children, nine of whom had been interred
at Salisbury. One of them,—Wesley Hall,—still survived, and was being
educated at the expense of his uncles, John and Charles. At the age of
fourteen, the worse than fatherless boy was seized with small-pox, and
died. Dr. Adam Clarke says, he had seen “a folio printed sheet, evidently
the publication of Mr. Hall;” entitled, “The Art of Happiness; or, the
Right use of Reason: an Epistle to Wesley Hall, Junior.” “The whole,”
writes the Doctor, “is a miserable Deistical address, strongly advising
his son to follow the dictates of his own nature, as the best way of
fulfilling the purposes of his Creator!”

The following are the opening lines:—

    “My son, my son, if e’er a parent’s voice
    Has power to warn, let this direct thy choice;
    Take reason’s path, and mad opinions leave,—
    Reason is truth that never can deceive.”

Declaiming against superstition and bigotry, and, perhaps, shooting a
shaft against the boy’s uncles,—the two Wesleys,—the profligate poet
writes:—

    “Inspired with frantic, false, fanatic zeal,
    See, with what rage, they threat damnation,—hell,
    To all who fair expose the wretched lies,
    The frauds, the follies, falsehood, forgeries,
    Of Romish fathers, councils, canons, schools,
    Impostors’ orders, monks’ and madmen’s rules.”

Love, the universal passion, is eulogized as follows:—

    “By thee inspired, we learn each tuneful art,
    To raise the passions, or improve the heart;
    The mystic union of the sounding strings,
    The wondrous commerce of the secret springs,
    Whence social joy, and sympathetic pain,
    And friendship’s force, and love’s eternal reign.
    ...
    With all the mighty charms by heaven designed,
    To raise the bliss of every godlike mind,
    In love concentring, from that image bright,
    The fairest mirror of th’ Eternal light.”

“He concludes,” says Dr. Clarke, “his ungodly advices to his godly son,
in these words:—

    “Instructed thus, may’st thou a temple raise,
    More glorious far than that of ancient days;
    The work of wisdom, and of virtue fair,
    With strength and beauty built beyond compare;
    By reason’s perfect rule, and nature’s scale,
    Which God’s whole order may to man reveal;
    Where all things tend, and whence they all began,
    Of His machinery the wondrous plan.”

The date of the death of the last of Hall’s legitimate offspring has not
been recorded; but his memory was embalmed, and his father’s gibbeted,
by his uncle, Charles Wesley, in a poetical pamphlet, entitled “Funeral
Hymns,” published in 1759, pp. 70. The tenth of these hymns is devoted
entirely to the son, and is exquisitely beautiful; the eleventh is a
withering invective against the apostate father. The following is a copy:—

    “Rest, happy saint, with God secure,
      Lodged in the bosom of the Lamb;
    Thy joy is full, thy state is sure,
      Through all eternity the same;
    The heavenly doors have shut thee in,
    The mighty gulf is fixed between.

    “Thy God forbade the son to bear
      The father’s wickedness below:
    And O! thou canst not suffer there
      His foul reproach, his guilty woe,
    His fearful doom thou canst not feel,
    Or fall, like him, from heaven to hell.

    “That tender sense of infant grace,
      (Extinct in him,) which dwelt in thee,
    Nor sin, nor Satan can efface:
      From pain and grief for ever free,
    Thou canst not now his fall deplore,
    Or pray for one that prays no more.

    “Yet may thy last expiring prayer,
      For a lost parent’s soul, prevail,
    And move the God of love to spare,
      To arrest him, at the mouth of hell:
    O God of love, Thine ear incline,
    And save a soul that once was Thine!

    “Thou didst his heaven-born spirit draw,
      Thou didst his child-like heart inspire,
    And fill with love’s profoundest awe;
      Though now inflamed with hellish fire,
    He dares Thy favourite Son blaspheme,
    And hates the God that died for him.

    “Commissioned by the dying God,
      Blessed with a powerful ministry,
    The world he pointed to Thy blood,
      And turned whole multitudes to Thee;
    Others he saved, himself a prey
    To hell, an hopeless castaway.

    “Murderer of souls, Thou knowest, he lives.
      (Poor souls for whom Thyself hast died,)
    His dreadful punishment receives,
      And bears the mark of sullen pride;
    And furious lusts his bosom tear,
    And the dire worm of sad despair.

    “Condemned, like haggard Cain, to rove,
      By Satan and himself pursued,
    Apostate from redeeming love,
      Abandoned to the curse of God;
    Thou hear’st the vagabond complain,
    Loud howling, while he bites his chain.

    “But O, Thou righteous God, how long
      Shall Thy vindictive anger last?
    Canst Thou not yet forgive the wrong,
      Bid all his penal woes be past?
    All power, all mercy as Thou art,
    O break his adamantine heart!

    “Before the yawning cavern close
      Its mouth on its devoted prey,
    Thou, who hast died to save Thy foes,
      Thy death’s omnipotence display;
    And snatch from that eternal fire,
    And let him in Thy arms expire.”

It would be an odious task to relate all the details of Westley Hall’s
sad apostasy. Suffice to say, that he, at length, went off to the West
Indies with one of his concubines, lived there with her till she died,
and then returned to England, where, professing penitential sorrow, he
was cordially received by his incomparable wife, who showed him every
Christian attention till his death, which took place at Bristol, on
January 3, 1776; some of his last words being, “I have injured an angel!
an angel that never reproached me!” Wesley writes:—

    “1776, January 2—Tuesday. I set out early” from London, “and
    came just time enough not to see, but to bury poor Mr. Hall,
    my brother-in-law, who died on Wednesday morning, I trust,
    in peace; for God had given him deep repentance. Such another
    monument of Divine mercy, considering how low he had fallen,
    and from what height of holiness, I have not seen, no, not in
    seventy years! I had designed to visit him in the morning; but
    he did not stay for my coming. It is enough, if, after all his
    wanderings, we meet again in Abraham’s bosom.”

“_Requiescat in pace!_” And yet, justice demands that a word more be
added. The fact cannot be denied, that, in many instances, the faults
of husbands may be traced to the tempers, frailties, and follies of
their wives. A bad wife often makes a good husband bad. Was this the
fact in the case of Westley Hall? Did the man who, at Oxford, was so
pre-eminently holy, become a licentious infidel through the misbehaviour
of his wife? This is not a memoir of “Patty” Hall; but to be entirely
silent concerning her might create suspicion, that, she was not
unblamable in her connubial life. Hence, even at the expense of returning
to the dunghill of Westley Hall’s disgusting wickedness, a few more facts
must be stated.

Assuming Martha Wesley to have been aware, that, Westley Hall had
proposed marriage to her sister Kezziah, and had jilted her, it was a
huge, seriously censurable imprudence for her to become his wife; but
that being said, there is not another fact to be told against her. What
was her behaviour to one of the worst of husbands?

The seduction of the seamstress has been already mentioned. Mrs. Hall
knew nothing of her husband’s criminality till the poor girl actually
fell in labour. Hall had gone from home; his wife instantly ordered
her other servants to call in a doctor. The servants refused. She
remonstrated with them on their inhumanity. They completed her surprise
by telling her the seamstress was in labour through her criminal
connection with their master. The poor wife was terribly wounded; but
the life of her husband’s paramour was in danger. The servants refused
to stir, and she herself had to bring in a midwife. Her purse contained
six pounds. Five of these she gave to a neighbour to look after the
adulterous young mother; with the other pound, she went off to seek her
worthless husband, who had designedly gone to London; mildly told him
what had happened, and actually persuaded him to return to Salisbury
as soon as the young woman and her child could be removed to another
dwelling.

Another instance must be given. One day, Hall had the shameful inhumanity
to bring home one of his illegitimate infants, and to order his wife to
take charge of it. Will it be believed, that “Patty” actually brought out
her cradle, placed the bastard babe in it, and continued to perform for
it all that its helplessness required!

Was the woman demented? or a good-tempered silly fool, without any
self-respect, and without the least idea of what was due unto herself?
Not so; but just the opposite. As a proof of this, the following may be
given:—

While nursing the illegitimate child just mentioned, her own charming
boy, Wesley Hall, displeased his father, who had as little government
of his temper as of his passions. In a rage, the father thrust his son
into a dark closet, and locked him up. The poor boy was terrified to
distraction. His mother, with her usual calmness, desired her husband to
release the child. He refused. She entreated; but he was resolute. “Sir,”
said she, at length thoroughly aroused; “Sir, thank the grace of God,
that, while _my_ child is thus cruelly treated, suffering to distraction
a punishment he has not merited, I had not turned _your_ babe out of
the cradle; but now I _demand_, that you will immediately unlock the
closet and release the child, or, if you refuse, I myself will do it.”
The miserable poltroon succumbed, and the little prisoner regained his
liberty. There was more in this than female firmness. Caitiff as he was,
Hall had exercised the authority of a father, and his wife did her utmost
not to set aside that authority; wishing, with true philosophy, that the
lips which had pronounced the sentence might pronounce also its repeal.
The woman, taking and maintaining this position, was the very opposite of
a senseless, insipid household drudge, without either mind or manners, a
very slave to some selfish brute who unfortunately rules over her.

If “Patty” Wesley,—we are reluctant to call her “Patty” Hall,—erred
at all, it was on the side of fidelity to her worthless husband, and
of kindness to his wretched mistresses. “How could you give money to
your husband’s concubine?” asked her brother Charles. “I knew,” she
answered, “that _I_ could obtain what I wanted from many; but she, poor
hapless creature, could not. _Pity_ is due to the wicked, the good claim
_esteem_. Besides, I did not act as a _woman_, but as a _Christian_.”

Notwithstanding all her bad treatment, this incomparable wife was never
heard to speak of her husband but with kindness. Two extracts from her
letters will show both her feelings and good sense, under circumstances
the most trying to a female mind:—

    “Being convinced, that, I cannot possibly oblige you any
    longer, by anything I can say or do, I have determined to rid
    you of so useless a burden, as soon as it shall please God
    to give me an opportunity. If you have so much humanity left
    for a wife, who has lived so many years with you, as to allow
    anything toward a maintenance, I will thank you.”

    “I conjure you to tell what fatal delusion could make me offend
    a person whom, of all creatures upon earth, I desired most to
    please. I shall be exceedingly obliged to you, if you will be
    so good as to satisfy me in this particular. But, be that as
    it may, whether you think fit to grant or deny my request,
    one thing I must inform you of, which is, that, I never can,
    so long as I am in my senses, wilfully bring any evil upon
    you. No, death itself does not appear so shocking to me, as
    endeavouring to lay you under any other obligation than those
    of conscience and honour. For which reason, I design to put
    myself again absolutely in your power. If you make a kind use
    of that power, I shall thank God and you. If not, the time is
    very short that I can stay on this side the grave; and in the
    same sentiments that I have lived, I trust, it will be given me
    to die.”

It is hardly necessary to give further details of this memorable woman.
Enough has been said, to show, that, Westley Hall’s infamous behaviour
was not owing to the character or conduct of his wife. We only add an
extract from a manuscript, now before us, written by her niece, Miss
Sarah Wesley, with whom she lived on the most loving and confidential
terms. Miss Wesley, daughter of Charles, observes:—

    “Dr. Johnson was an early friend of hers; to her my father
    owed his acquaintance with the Doctor, and I, the honour of
    his favour. I used to accompany her to Bolt Court, and had the
    privilege of hearing their discourse.

    “Her whole character was eminent for magnanimity and
    tenderness. When her unfortunate husband contended for the
    lawfulness of polygamy, and acted on his erroneous principles,
    in all her expostulations, she never lost her command of
    language, or gave him a reproachful word.

    “She was particularly distinguished with favour, by my
    grandmother, for her docile and tranquil spirit; and her
    brothers and sisters nick-named her the patient _Grisele_.
    Such was her attachment to my uncle John, that, if she was
    in any pain or trouble in her infant days, the sight of him
    would instantly cheer her. I never heard of so strong an
    affection, which lasted toward him through life. My grandmother
    once entered the room, where the children were in high glee
    and frolic, and said, ‘Ah, you will all, one day, be more
    thoughtful, as you grow in years.’ Martha replied, ‘Shall I be
    more thoughtful?’ ‘No,’ said her mother. Indeed, by all that
    I have heard, she was born a philosopher, and preferred her
    mother’s chamber to sports or recreations, which naturally
    endeared her to the parent, whom she almost idolized.

    “Were I to relate the instances of her kindness to me, I
    could fill a book. No parent’s love could exceed hers. It was
    a joyful day whenever I was to spend it with her. Even my
    brothers looked forward with delightful anticipation, when her
    weekly visit was to be paid us (for one day of the week was
    appropriated by my father to receive her). Her conversation so
    far resembled my uncle’s, that, children idolized her; and her
    memory, to the last, supplied the place of books. She had the
    best of our poets by heart; and her mode of giving advice was
    so gentle, that offence could not be taken. Her compassion and
    charity to the poor were such, that, my father used to say, it
    was needless to give anything to Pat for her own comfort; she
    always gave it away to some beggar, and forgot herself.

    “I was with her at her death. Composed and tranquil, she
    reasoned about every pain, as occasioning it, with the same
    serenity she would have spoken of common things. She had no
    disease, but the springs of life were worn out. A little before
    her departure, she called me to her bedside, and said, ‘You
    have heard me wish for assurance,’ (of happiness, she meant),
    ‘I have it now. Shout!’ and died!”

Mrs. Hall was the last survivor of the Wesley family,—her father, mother,
brothers, and sisters having all died before her. In the _Gentleman’s
Magazine_ for 1791, there is the following obituary notice.

    “_1791. July 12_, in the City Road, in her eighty-fourth year,
    Mrs. Martha Hall, widow of the Rev. Mr. H., and last surviving
    sister of the Rev. John and Charles Wesley. She was equally
    distinguished by piety, understanding, and sweetness of temper.
    Her sympathy for the wretched, and her bounty, even to the
    worthless, will eternize her memory in better worlds than this.”

Her remains are interred in the same vault as those of her brother John,
in the burial ground of his chapel, in City Road, London.

Our story of the Oxford Methodists is ended.




ADDENDUM.


By an oversight, the following letter was not inserted in Hervey’s
memoir. It ought to have found a place at page 220. When Wesley became an
out-door preacher, in 1739, Hervey wrote him a letter of remonstrance, to
which he replied as follows:—

    “As to your advice, that, I should settle in college, I have
    no business there, having now no office, and no pupils. And
    whether the other branch of your proposal be expedient,
    namely, to accept of a cure of souls, it will be time enough
    to consider when one is offered to me. But, in the meantime,
    you think, I ought to be still, because, otherwise, I shall
    invade another’s office. You, accordingly, ask, How is it,
    that, I assemble Christians who are none of my charge, to sing
    psalms, and pray, and hear the Scriptures expounded; and think
    it hard to justify this in other men’s parishes, upon catholic
    principles.

    “Permit me to speak plainly. If, by ‘catholic principles,’
    you mean any other than scriptural, they weigh nothing with
    me; I allow no other rule, whether of faith or practice, than
    the Holy Scriptures. But, on scriptural principles, I do not
    think it hard to justify what I do. God, in Scripture, commands
    me, according to my power, to instruct the ignorant, reform
    the wicked, confirm the virtuous. Man forbids me to do this
    in another’s parish; that is, in effect, not to do it at all;
    seeing I have now no parish of my own, nor probably ever shall.
    Whom then shall I hear? God or man? ‘_If it be just to obey man
    rather than God, judge ye._’ ‘_A dispensation of the Gospel is
    committed to me, and woe is me, if I preach not the Gospel._’
    But where shall I preach it, upon the principles you mention?
    Not in any of the _Christian_ parts, at least, of the habitable
    earth; for all these are, after a sort, divided into parishes.

    “Suffer me to tell you my principles in this matter. I look
    upon _all the world as my parish_; thus far I mean, that,
    in whatever part of it I am, I judge it meet, right, and my
    bounden duty, to declare unto all, that are willing to hear,
    the glad tidings of salvation. This is the work, which I know,
    God has called me to; and sure I am, that His blessing attends
    it. Great encouragement have I, therefore, to be faithful in
    fulfilling the work He hath given me to do. His servant I am;
    and, as such, am employed according to the plain direction of
    His word,—‘_as I have opportunity, doing good to all men_.’
    And His providence clearly concurs with His word; which has
    disengaged me from all things else, that I might singly attend
    on this very thing, ‘_and go about doing good_.’

    “If you ask, ‘How can this be? How can one do good, of whom
    _men say all manner of evil_?’ I will put you in mind, (though
    you once knew this, yea, and much established me in that great
    truth,) the more evil men say of me for my Lord’s sake, the
    more good He will do by me. That it is for His sake, I know,
    and He knoweth, and the event agreeth thereto; for He mightily
    confirms the word I speak, by the Holy Ghost, given unto them
    that hear them. I fear you have herein made shipwreck of the
    faith. I fear, ‘_Satan, transformed into an angel of light_,’
    hath assaulted you, and prevailed also. I fear, that offspring
    of hell, worldly or mystic prudence, has drawn you away from
    the simplicity of the Gospel. How else could you ever conceive,
    that, the being reviled, and ‘_hated of all men_,’ should make
    us less fit for our Masters service? How else could you ever
    think of ‘_saving yourself and them that hear you_,’ without
    being _the filth and offscouring of the world_’?

    “To this hour, is this Scripture true. And I therein rejoice,
    yea, and will rejoice. Blessed be God, I enjoy the reproach
    of Christ! O may you also be vile, exceeding vile for His
    sake! God forbid that you should ever be other than generally
    scandalous; I had almost said universally. If any man tell you,
    there is a new way of following Christ ‘he is a liar, and the
    truth is not in him.’

                                                      “JOHN WESLEY.”




FOOTNOTES


[1] Wesley’s Works, vol. viii., p. 334.

[2] Autobiography of Mrs. Delany, vol. i., p. 586.

[3] “Poems on Several Occasions,” by Samuel Wesley, A.M., 1736, p. 107.

[4] Two villages in Bedfordshire.

[5] Probably the mother of the wife of Wesley’s brother Samuel.

[6] Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 8.

[7] Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 9.

[8] Ibid. p. 10.

[9] Ibid. vol. xii., p. 6.

[10] Moore’s “Life of Wesley,” vol i, p. 187.

[11] Wesley’s Works, vol, i., p. 5.

[12] Wesley’s father had been thrown out of a waggon and seriously
injured. (See “Life and Times of Rev. Samuel Wesley,” pp. 416, 417.)

[13] Moore’s Life of Wesley, vol. i., p. 198.

[14] MS. Journal.

[15] Clayton’s father died in January, 1737 (The Private Journal and
Literary Remains of John Byrom, vol ii., p. 87).

[16] The Private Journal and Literary Remains of John Byrom, 1855.

[17] Mr. Rivington, the bookseller of St. Paul’s Churchyard, London.

[18] Wesley’s Works, vol. i, p. 13.

[19] Wesley’s Works, vol. viii., p. 334.

[20] Mr. Smith was evidently one of the Oxford Methodists, and appears
to have been a Fellow of Lincoln College; In a letter dated Aug. 17,
1733, Wesley writes,—“The thing that gives offence here, is the being
singular with regard to time, expense, and company. This is evident
beyond exception, from the case of Mr. Smith, one of our Fellows, who
no sooner began to husband his time, to retrench unnecessary expenses,
and to avoid his irreligious acquaintances, but he was set upon, by not
only those acquaintance, but many others too, as if he had entered into
a conspiracy to cut all their throats: though, to this day, he had not
advised any single person, unless in a word or two and by accident, to
act as he did in those instances” (Moore’s Life of Wesley, vol. i., p.
206). We have not been able to trace Mr. Smith’s subsequent career. The
following letter, however, written a few months later than the above by
Wesley, will not be unacceptable.

                       “LONDON, _February 6, 1734_; 4, Perpool Lane.

    “MY DEAREST FRIEND,—It was waiting for Mr. Greeve’s coming made
    me not answer yours sooner. If, when I come, I don’t give you
    a sufficient reason for my being so long absent from college,
    never trust me more. But, yet, alas! how lukewarm is piety
    become with me at the best; and fasting neglected, which I
    never looked for; not entirely dropped, I hope, but for a week
    or two, to be taken up and practised again incessantly.

    “Notwithstanding, I cannot be present in body sooner than in a
    month’s time, because I am learning shorthand, which will take
    up a full fortnight of it. You know, I presume, I was obliged
    to see my father before my return, and, therefore, we will get
    you to ask leave of absence, and entreat Mr. Farrer for so much
    longer.

    “I beg my humble service to him and all friends; and accept the
    same yourself from, my dearest friend, your much obliged friend
    and servant, WILLIAM SMITH.

    “The Rev. Mr. Wesley, Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford.”

[21] Probably another Oxford Methodist.

[22] Probably his pupils.

[23] A room over the north gate of the city, used as a common prison,
principally for debtors.

[24] Moore’s “Life of Wesley,” vol. i., p. 205.

[25] Where is Clayton’s diary now? We wish we could find it. Wesley begun
to keep a diary as early as about the year 1725 (see Wesley’s Works,
vol. i. p. 3), in which, he says, he noted how he “employed every hour.”
This practice he continued to do, wherever he was, till he left England
in 1735; and yet not a line of these interesting journals has been
published. Where are those manuscripts, and why are they not given to the
public?

[26] To use a popular designation, Clayton and Wesley were becoming
Ritualists. Hitherto the Bible had been their only rule of faith and
practice; now they began to study ecclesiastical canons and decretals.
One of these was to regard Saturday as the Sabbath-day, and Sunday as
the Lord’s-day. Christians, however, were not to “Judaize and rest on”
(Saturday, or) “the Sabbath-day; but work, and give the preference to the
Lord’s-day, by resting as Christians.” On both days might be celebrated
the Feast of the Eucharist, even during Lent. If any clergyman was found
fasting on any Saturday, except Easter Eve, he was to be deposed; and
if a layman was guilty of such a peccadillo, he was to be suspended
from communion. At the time of the Laodicean Council (about A.D. 363),
public assemblies were held on Saturdays as well as Sundays, and it was
decreed that on the former, as on the latter, “the Gospels, with the
other Scriptures, ought to be read” before “the Sacrifice,” or Eucharist.
(Laodicean Canons, 29th, 49th, 16th; and Apostolical Canons, 56th.)

[27] Dr. Deacon was one of the non-juring priests, or high churchmen,
who refused to take the oaths to the government of King William III.
They maintained:—1. The doctrine of passive obedience. 2. That the
hereditary succession to the throne is of Divine institution, and,
therefore, can never be interrupted, suspended, or annulled. 3. That the
Church is subject to the jurisdiction, not of the civil magistrates,
but of God alone, particularly in matters of a religious nature. 4.
That, consequently, the bishops deposed by William III. remained,
notwithstanding their deposition, true bishops to the day of their death;
and that those who were substituted in their place were the unjust
possessors of other men’s property. 5. That these unjust possessors
of ecclesiastical dignities were rebels against the State, as well as
schismatics in the Church; and that all, therefore, who held communion
with them were also chargeable with rebellion and schism; and, 6. That
this schism, which rends the Church in pieces, was a most heinous
sin, whose punishment must fall heavy on all those who did not return
sincerely to the true Church from which they had departed.

Dr. Deacon held such opinions and suffered for them. It was alleged by
his opponents that, after the rebellion in 1715, he absolved Justice
Hall and Parson Paul at the gallows, and publicly declared to them, at
Tyburn, that the fact for which they were executed was meritorious. It
was further said that, on account of this, a warrant was issued against
Deacon by the State Secretary, and that his friends prevented his arrest
by sending him off to Holland to study physic. The principal part of
this allegation was denied by Deacon. He admits that he went to Holland;
but says, he lived upon his own fortune there, and did not begin his
medical studies until after his return to London, where he derived great
assistance from the celebrated Dr. Mead. He then removed to Manchester,
where he collected a small congregation of high churchmen like himself;
and, a few years later, became painfully prominent in the disturbances
arising out of the Manchester visit of the Young Pretender. But more of
this anon.

Dr. Deacon’s publications embraced the following:—“The History of the
Arians, and of the Council of Nice, written in French by Sebastian Lenain
de Tillemont, and translated into English by Thomas Deacon. London,
1721.” 8vo, 356 pp. “The Doctrine of the Church of Rome concerning
Purgatory, proved to be contrary to Catholic Tradition, and inconsistent
with the Necessary Duty of Praying for the Dead, as practised by the
Ancient Church. By Thomas Deacon, Priest. London, 1718.” 12mo, 143
pp. “Ecclesiastical Memoirs of the six first Centuries, made good by
Citations from Original Authors, etc. Written in French by Sebastian
Le Nain de Tillemont.” Translated by Deacon. “London. Printed for the
benefit of the Translator, and sold by J. Wilford, at the three Flower
de luces, behind St. Paul’s Chapter House; and W. Clayton, Bookseller
in Manchester.” Folio, vol. I., 1733. 667 pp. Vol. II., 1735. 593 pp.
These volumes come down to the year A.D. 177. The work seems not to
have been completed. The list of subscribers includes “John Byrom. A.M.
F.R.S.” and “Rev. John Clayton. A.M. Curate of Salford, in Lancashire.”
Deacon also published another work, immediately after the rebellion in
1745, entitled, “A Full, True, and Comprehensive View of Christianity:
Containing a Short Historical Account of Religion from the Creation of
the World to the fourth Century after our Lord Jesus Christ.” 8vo, 483
pp.: a work far more Popish than Protestant. The following are some
of the things which Deacon tries to elucidate and recommend:—“Public
Confession and Penance;” “The Eucharist, a Sacrament and a Sacrifice;”
“Unction before Baptism, and the Consecration of the Oil and Water;”
“Trine Immersion, the White Garment, the Kiss of Peace, the Milk and
Honey,” etc.; “Prayer for the Faithful Departed;” “Infant Communion;”
etc. This book excited great attention, as well it might; and several
severe replies to it were published in the years 1748 and 1749.

Such was the chosen counsellor of Clayton and of Wesley. He was as much a
papist as a protestant. Wesley was mercifully introduced to other guides.
Clayton, without, perhaps, adopting all the opinions of his non-juring
adviser, was doubtlessly influenced by them to the end of life. Dr.
Deacon died in 1753, and was buried in St Ann’s churchyard, Manchester.
The following clumsy inscription was on his tomb:—

                           “Ἐι μη ἐν σταυρω.

    “Here lie interred the remains (which, though mortality is at
    present corrupt, it shall one day most surely be raised again
    to immortality, and put on incorruption) of Thomas Deacon,
    the greatest of sinners, and the most unworthy of Primitive
    Bishops, who died 16th of February, 1753, in the fifty-sixth
    year of his age; and of Sarah, his wife, who died July 4th,
    1745, in the forty-fifth year of her age. The Lord grant the
    faithful, here underlying, the mercy of the Lord in that day!
    (2 Tim. i 18)

                            “Ἐν τουτω νικα.”

                                     (_Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1821.)

[28] The Ecclesiastical term for the Fasts of the fourth and sixth
days of the week, Wednesday and Friday, in memory of the council which
condemned Christ, and of His passion.

[29] Here, again, the Oxford Methodists have recourse, not to the Bible,
as at the commencement of their history, but to superstitious canons.
At the Council of Constantinople, A.D. 683, it was decreed against the
Armenians, that wine used at the Eucharist should be mixed with water;
and, in support of this, were quoted the Liturgies of St James, and St
Basil, and the 37th Canon of the African Code. Of course, the origin of
this superstition was the fact, that water, as well as blood, came out of
the side of the Divine Redeemer; but Dr. Deacon, in a pamphlet, published
in 1719, and entitled, “The Plaintiff’s Charge Disproved,” etc., took
other ground. He maintained that our blessed Saviour “used wine and water
at the Eucharist;” that He “ordained these elements to be the matter of
the sacrament, and commanded His apostles and the Church to practice
after His example.” Deacon adds:—“How terrible the consequence may be of
omitting part of our Redeemer’s cup, is what I dare not determine.”

[30] This work, by Dr. Deacon, was entitled, “A Complete Collection
of Devotions: taken from the Apostolical Constitutions, the Ancient
Liturgies, and the Common Prayer Book of the Church of England.

“Part I. Comprehending the Public Offices of the Church. Humbly offered
to the Consideration of the present Churches of Christendom, Greek,
Roman, English, and all others.

“Part II. Being a Primitive Method of Daily Private Prayer, containing
Devotions for the Morning and Evening, and for the Ancient Hours of
Prayer, nine, twelve, and three; together with the Hymns of Thanksgivings
for the Lord’s Day and Sabbath; and Prayers for Fasting Days; as also
Devotions for the Altar, and Graces before and after Meat; all taken
from the Apostolical Constitutions, and the Ancient Liturgies, with some
additions: and recommended to the practice of all private Christians of
every Communion. London: Printed for the Author. 1734.”

This is a curious book, showing the ritualistic proclivities of Dr.
Deacon and his friends. Space forbids lengthened extracts; but, in
“Morning Prayer,” occurs the following; “Let us pray for those who are
departed in the faith, and are at rest in Christ; that God, the lover of
mankind, who hath received their souls, would forgive them all their sins
voluntary and involuntary, and of His great mercy would graciously grant
them perpetual peace in the region of the just.”

There are public Prayers, “for the Catechumens, or unbaptized persons,
who are receiving instruction in Christianity;” and “for the Energumens,
or Persons possessed by Evil Spirits.”

There is “The Form of admitting a Penitent to Penance,” embracing a
confession of his crimes to the Priest; and a prayer that God would
“graciously accept the man’s Penance; and that, by his continuance in a
state of mournful confession and prayer, he may the sooner obtain God’s
merciful pardon.”

In the Office of Baptism, it is ordered, that, the Priest shall “anoint
the child with the Holy Oil, and make the sign of the Cross upon its
forehead, breast, and palms of the hands.” It was then to be “dipped in
the water three times;” and then to be “clothed in White Garments;” after
which, the Sponsors were to give it “the Kiss of Peace,” and the Priest
was to put into its mouth “a little of the Consecrated Milk and Honey.”

Then there is “The Form of Consecrating the Oil for Baptism:” and “The
Form of Consecrating the Milk and Honey:” and “The Form of Consecrating
the Chrism for Confirmation:” and “The Form of Consecrating the Oil for
the Sick.” N.B. The Oil was to be “sweet oil of Olives;” and the Chrism
“sweet oil of Olives and precious balsam, commonly called Balm of Gilead.”

These extracts speak for themselves.

[31] Was this the daughter of Dr. Potter, Bishop of Oxford? And was she
one of the Oxford Methodists?

[32] John Baptist Cotelerius was a learned French author, born in 1628.
He made a collection of the writings of the Fathers, who lived in the
Apostolic age, revised and corrected from several manuscripts, with a
Latin translation and notes. His work was published in two volumes folio,
in 1672.

[33] “The Apostolical Constitutions,” a collection of regulations
attributed to the Apostles, and supposed to have been collected by St
Clement, whose name they bear.

[34] “The Recognitions of Clement,” a book whose authenticity has been
greatly doubted, and whose chief subject is the “Travels and Acts of
Peter.”

[35] Mr. Spinckes was prebendary of Salisbury, and rector of St
Martin’s in that town. In 1690, he was deprived of all his preferments
for refusing to take the oaths to William and Mary. In 1713, he was
consecrated a non-juring bishop by Dr. Hickes, and the Scotch bishops,
Campbell and Gadderar. He died in 1727. The full title of the book, which
Clayton mentions is, “The True Church of England—Man’s Companion in the
Closet; or, a Complete Manual of Private Devotions; collected from the
Writings of Archbishop Laud, Bishop Andrews, Bishop Ken, Dr. Hickes, Mr.
Kettlewell, Mr. Spinckes, and other eminent Divines of the Church of
England. With a Preface by the Reverend Mr. Spinckes.” Though deficient
in its recognition of the doctrine of salvation by faith, it contains
hardly anything seriously objectionable; it is intensely devotional;
and could be sincerely used by none except those who made religion the
supreme business of their lives.

[36] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 185.

[37] The Private Journal and Literary Remains of John Byrom. 1855.

[38] Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 83.

[39] Ibid. p. 94, 95.

[40] Ibid. p. 97.

[41] “Manchester: its Political, Social, and Commercial History,” by
James Wheeler. 1836.

[42] Dr. Byrom’s eldest daughter has left a journal of the events of this
memorable entry into Manchester. She writes:—“1745. November 29. Friday,
eleven o’clock, we went to the cross; about three o’clock, the Prince and
the main body came. The Prince went straight to Mr. Dickenson’s, where
he lodges; the Duke of Athol at Mr. Marsden’s, and the Duke of Perth at
Gartside’s. The bells rung, and P. Cotterel made a bonfire. All the town
was illuminated,—every house, except Mr. Dickenson’s. About four o’clock,
the king was proclaimed. The mob shouted very cleverly.

“Saturday, November 30. An officer called on us to go and see the Prince.
We went to Mr. Fletcher’s, and saw him get on horseback; and a noble
sight it was. I would not have missed it for a great deal of money. When
he rid out of the court, he was received with as much joy and shouting
almost as if he had been king without any dispute. As soon as he was
gone, the officer and we went to prayers at the old church, at two
o’clock. Mr. Sprigley read prayers, and prayed for the King and Prince
of Wales, and named no names. We went up to Mr. Fletcher’s, and stayed
there till the Prince was at supper. Secretary Murray came to let us know
that the Prince was at leisure; so we were all introduced, and had the
honour to kiss his hand. My papa was fetched prisoner (playfully, by the
ladies,) to do the same, as was Mr. Deacon; Mr. Cattell and Mr. Clayton
did it without; the latter said grace for him.”

Mr. Dickenson’s house, in which the prince resided, was at the top of
Market Street. There was a court-yard in front, shut out from the street
by large iron gates. In virtue of the prince’s short residence, the house
was afterwards called the “Palace”; and on its becoming a hostelry, was
designated the “Palace Inn.”

[43] Pictorial History of England, vol. iv., p. 548.

[44] Everett’s “Methodism in Manchester,” p. 121.

[45] Mr. Samuel Barker.

[46] Tradition says the suspension lasted three years.

[47] Everett’s “Life of Clarke,” vol. ii., p. 239.

[48] An excellent library was attached to Clayton’s school (“Private
Journal and Literary Remains of John Byrom”).

[49] _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, June 30, 1760.

[50] In 1756, a 12mo pamphlet, of 34 pages, was published, with the
title, “A Sequel to the Friendly Advice to the Poor of the Town of
Manchester. By Joseph Stot, Cobbler.” This vivaciously written _brochure_
taunts Clayton with having published nothing except a solitary sermon and
his “Friendly Advice,” and pretends to have expected that his pen would
have benefitted the public during the time his tongue was silenced by his
bishop. It also states that Clayton was never seen out of doors “without
a great sweeping nosegay;” and accounts for this on the ground that,
perhaps, the foul smells of Manchester made it necessary.

[51] Calamy’s “Nonconformist Memorial,” vol. ii., p. 599; and
_Evangelical Magazine_, 1814, p. 302.

[52] Fast-day.

[53] “Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 242.

[54] Salmon was one of the Oxford Methodists. In 1779, Wesley wrote:
“Fifty years ago Mr. Matthew Salmon was one of our little company at
Oxford, and was then, both in person, in natural temper, and in piety,
one of the loveliest young men I knew.” (Wesley’s Journal.) Like Clayton,
Mr. Salmon became alienated from the Methodists. In 1748, he published
the “Foreigner’s Companion through the Universities of Oxford and
Cambridge,” which contained the following:—“The times of the day the
University go to this church, are ten in the morning, and two in the
afternoon, on Sundays and holidays, the sermon usually lasting about half
an hour. But, when I happened to be at Oxford, in 1742, Mr. Wesley, the
Methodist, of Christ Church, entertained his audience two hours; and,
having insulted and abused all degrees, from the highest to the lowest,
was, in a manner, hissed out of the pulpit by the lads.”

The preacher on this occasion was Charles Wesley, and the two hours’
sermon, was his well-known Discourse, before the University of Oxford,
on “Awake thou that sleepest,” etc. (Eph. v. 14). On reading Salmon’s
unbrotherly attack, Charles Wesley remarked: “And high time for the
lads to do so, if the historian said true; but, unfortunately for him,
I measured the time by my watch, and it was within the hour; I abused
neither high nor low, as my sermon, in print, will show: neither was I
hissed out of the pulpit, or treated with the least incivility, either by
young or old. What, then, shall I say to my old high church friend whom I
once so much admired? I must rank him among the apocryphal writers, such
as the judicious Dr. Mather, the wary Bishop Burnet, and the most modest
Mr. Oldmixon.” (C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. ii., p. 71.)

A nephew of Mr. Salmon’s, and some other branches of his family,
afterwards became Methodists, at Nantwich and in the neighbourhood. Miss
Salmon was an intimate friend of Elizabeth Ritchie and Hester Ann Rogers.
Joseph Whittingham Salmon, the nephew, entertained Wesley at Nantwich, in
1779. In 1785, he preached, and published a sermon on the death of his
wife, with the title, “The Robes of the Saints washed in the Blood of the
Lamb: being the Substance of a Funeral Discourse, preached at the Barker
Street Chapel, Nantwich, on Occasion of the Death of Mrs. Salmon.” 8vo,
39 pages. And, in 1796, he gave to the world a book of poetry, entitled,
“Moral Reflections in Verse, begun in Hawkstone Park,” etc. 8vo, 264
pages.

Matthew Salmon, the Oxford Methodist, will be occasionally mentioned in
succeeding pages.

[55] A parish in Essex.

[56] The celebrated, Rev. William Law.

[57] Wesley’s reasons were _substantially_ the same as Ingham’s. (See
“Life and Times of Wesley,” vol. i., p. 115, 116.)

[58] In Thames Street

[59] Another instance of the high-churchism of these Oxford Methodists.

[60] One of these was David Nitschmann, the Moravian Bishop. (See
Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 16.)

[61] It was during this storm, that Wesley was struck with the contrast
between the Moravians and the rest of the ship’s occupants. The crew in
general were in paroxysms of fear and anxiety; the Moravians were calm,
and employed themselves in singing psalms (Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p.
20).

[62] A sort of flat-bottomed barge (Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 28).

[63] Charles Wesley writes:—“Tuesday, March 9, 1736. The first who
saluted me on my landing, was honest Mr. Ingham, and that with his usual
heartiness. Never did I more rejoice at the sight of him; especially when
he told me the treatment he has met with for vindicating the Lord’s day.”
Charles had gone to be the minister of the palmetto town, Frederica; and
was soon in greater trouble than Ingham had experienced. Ingham remained
with his friend nineteen days; and, during this brief period, Charles
encountered a difficulty about baptizing a child by immersion; got into
hot water, by endeavouring to reconcile two termagant women; and was
wrongfully charged by Oglethorpe with mutiny and sedition. By March 28th,
things had arrived at such a pass, that Charles Wesley requested Ingham
to go to Savannah for his brother. Ingham was extremely reluctant to
leave his friend in such trouble and danger; but was, at last, persuaded;
and, accordingly, on the day just mentioned, after preaching “an alarming
sermon on the day of judgment, and joining with” Charles Wesley “in
offering up the Christian sacrifice,” he started. This is not the place
to enter into detail respecting C. Wesley’s trials at Frederica. Suffice
it to give an extract from his Journal: “I hastened to the water-side,
where I found Mr. Ingham just put off. O happy, happy friend! _Abiit,
erupit, evasit!_ But woe is me, that I am still constrained to dwell with
Meshech! I languished to bear him company, followed him with my eyes
till out of sight, and then sank into deeper dejection than I had known
before.” We must now keep company with Ingham.

[64] David Nitschmann.

[65] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. i., p. 27.

[66] The Indians gave to Ingham a plot of fruitful ground, in the midst
of which was a small, round hill; and, on the top of this hill, a house
was built for an Indian school. The house was named Irene. (Wesley’s
Works, vol. i., p. 61.)

[67] _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1737, p. 575.

[68] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. i., p. 73.

[69] William Delamotte, who became the friend of Ingham, and joined
the Moravians. For four or five years, he was one of their most
ardent and useful preachers. His labours in Yorkshire were attended
with great success. He died February 22, 1743, and was buried at St.
Dunstan’s-in-the-East, London (Holmes’ “History of the Brethren,” vol.
i., p. 315: Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 94.)

[70] Charles Delamotte, who also became a Moravian, and, after a long
life of piety and peace, died at Barrow-upon-Humber, in 1796.

[71] At this date, Wesley was in the thick of his Georgian troubles.

[72] The English bishops would have acted more justly and generously if
they had helped Wesley out of their own fat incomes, instead of finding
fault with his trifling expenses. On March 4, 1737, Wesley says, “I writ
the trustees for Georgia an account of our year’s expenses, from March
1, 1736, to March 1, 1737; which, deducting extraordinary expenses, such
as repairing the parsonage house, and journeys to Frederica, amounted,
for Mr. Delamotte and me, to £44 4_s._ 4_d._” Can it be correct that the
bishops found fault with Wesley costing the trustees £22 2_s._ 2_d._
per year? It may be asked what Wesley received from the Society for the
Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts? The answer is £50; “which,
indeed,” says he, “was in a manner forced upon me, contrary both to
expectation and desire” (Wesley’s Unpublished Journal). Seven months
later, on November 10, 1737, he writes, in the same Journal, “Colonel
Henderson arrived, by whom I received a benefaction of £10 sterling,
after having been for several months without one shilling in the house,
but not without peace, health, and contentment.” This was the man at
whose extravagance the bishops grumbled, and concerning whom even Ingham
felt some anxiety. The Georgian trustees had no misgivings.

[73] _Methodist Magazine_, 1848, p. 1096.

[74] Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 40.

[75] Sir John Thorold belonged to one of the oldest families in
Lincolnshire. He was a great friend of the first Methodists; and, as
early as 1738, used to attend the Moravian meetings, in the house of
James Hutton, at The Bible and Sun, a little westward of Temple Bar;
and to expound among the Brethren the Holy Scriptures, and to engage
in prayer. In 1742, he became dissatisfied, and brought the following
charges against them. “1. Their not praying so much to the Father and the
Holy Ghost as to the Son. 2. Their speaking so contemptuously of reason,
which opened a door to fancy and enthusiasm. 3. Their saying, there were
no duties in the New Testament. 4. Their not giving an open conscientious
confession of their faith. 5. Their disowning their tenets when driven to
a pinch.”

Sir John Thorold died in 1748. (Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 82; and Life and
Times of Countess of Huntingdon, vol. i., p. 77.)

[76] Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 40.

[77] Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 161.

[78] Whitefield’s Journals, p. 115; and C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. i., p.
139.

[79] The meaning of this phraseology may, perhaps, be gathered from a
letter which Wesley wrote to his brother Samuel, on October 23, 1738,
five months after Wesley’s conversion. The following is an extract:—“The
πληροφορία πίστεως,—the seal of the Spirit, the love of God shed abroad
in my heart, and producing joy in the Holy Ghost, joy which no man
taketh away, joy unspeakable and full of glory,—this witness of the
Spirit I have not; but I wait patiently for it. I know many who have
already received it,” etc. (“Life and Times of Wesley,” vol. i., p. 190).
The fact is, Wesley, for a season, appeared to confound the witness
of the Spirit to the justification of a Christian believer with what
he afterwards meant by the attainment of Christian perfection. Soon
afterwards, however, he was blessed with clearer light, and gave to the
Church, perhaps, the best definition of the doctrine ever penned,—“The
testimony of the Spirit is an inward impression on the soul, whereby the
Spirit of God directly witnesses to my spirit that I am a child of God;
that Jesus Christ hath loved me, and given Himself for me; and that all
my sins are blotted out, and I, even I, am reconciled to God.”

[80] Nelson’s Journal.

[81] C. Wesley’s Journal.

[82] One of Molther’s dogmas was, that no one has any faith while he has
any doubt.

[83] Wesley’s Journal.

[84] Nelson’s Journal.

[85] See “Hutton’s Memoirs,” p. 100-108; and Holmes’ “History of the
Church of the Brethren,” vol. i., p. 318.

[86] To say the least, this was offensively premature. Where is the
evidence that either Wesley or Nelson wished to be received into the
Moravian community?

[87] This interview probably occurred in the year 1741, though Nelson
neglects to supply the date. In 1739, Wesley had published his “Character
of a Methodist,” and also his abridged “Life of Halyburton,” with a
preface by himself. In both of these publications, he propounded, in
strong language, his doctrine of entire sanctification.

[88] Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 350.

[89] Nelson’s Journal.

[90] In a letter by James Hutton to Count Zinzendorf, and dated,
September 17, 1740, only three days before the date of this letter by
Ingham, the following occurs:—“Ingham writes from Yorkshire, that, he
also has discovered something new in his heart, and is now assured he
shall not die eternally; he had never before experienced the like. He
also writes, that, many souls in Yorkshire have of late found grace, and
he desires that Toltschig may come to him.” (“Memoirs of James Hutton,”
p. 63.)

[91] _Methodist Magazine_, 1778, p. 182.

[92] “Memoirs of James Hutton,” p. 64.

[93] Wesley’s Journal.

[94] See Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 349.

[95] Probably the same as Mr. Justice Burton, who figured so prominently
in endeavouring to obtain witnesses, that Charles Wesley was a Jacobite,
in 1744. (See C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. i., p. 358.)

[96] _Weekly Miscellany_, May 17, 1740.

[97] Ibid. June 8, 1740.

[98] _Weekly Miscellany_, June 21, 1740.

[99] The Rev. Jacob Rogers, of Bedford, of whom Wesley, in 1753, wrote as
follows:—“Above fourteen years ago, Mr. Rogers, then curate of St. Paul’s
(Bedford), preached the pure gospel with general acceptance. A great
awakening began, and continually increased, till the poor weather-cock
turned Baptist; he then preached the absolute decrees with all his might;
but in a while the wind changed again, and he turned and sank into the
German whirlpool. How many souls has this unhappy man to answer for!”
(Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 293.)

[100] _Weekly Miscellany_, July 26, 1740.

[101] Memoirs of Mrs. Grace Bennett.

[102] Memoirs of James Hutton, p. 59 and 60.

[103] A pilgrim, according to Zinzendorf’s definition, is “a
Philadelphian (lover of the brethren), with a Moravian coat and a
Lutheran tongue.” (“Hutton’s Memoirs,” p. 118.)

[104] Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 152.

[105] The property is now held of Ingham’s descendants, on a lease for
five hundred years. (_Methodist Magazine_, 1848, p. 1,099.)

[106] Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon, vol. i., p. 260.

[107] Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon, vol. i., p. 266.

[108] Doubtless, a Tract, of twenty-four pages, published by Wesley, in
1745, and entitled “A Short View of the Difference between the Moravian
Brethren, lately in England, and the Rev. Mr. John and Charles Wesley.”

[109] _Methodist Magazine_, 1797, p. 512.

[110] Hutton’s Memoirs, pp. 221 to 280.

[111] _Evangelical Magazine_, 1814, p. 306.

[112] Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon, vol. i., p. 270.

[113] Minutes of Methodist Conferences, vol. i., p. 717. The 1862 edition.

[114] Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 313.

[115] Sandemanianism was afterwards introduced into New England, but
failed by its own distractions. Sandeman died in Danbury, Connecticut.
His tomb is still preserved there, and slight traces of his system linger
in the vicinity. (Stevens’ History of Methodism, vol. i., p. 392.)

[116] The Daleites derived their name from David Dale, Esq., a successful
man of business, who, after being agent for the sale of the cotton yarn
of Sir R. Arkwright, became, in 1785, the proprietor of the cotton mills
at Lanark. A lawsuit, between the magistrates of Glasgow and the General
Session, led Mr. Dale to secede from the established kirk. Having began
to preach, he was the means of founding several Independent Churches in
Scotland; and, after an active and useful life, died, greatly lamented,
in 1806, aged sixty-seven. (_Evangelical Magazine_, 1807, p. 49.)

[117] Wesley writes: “1765. January 20, I looked over Mr. Romaine’s
strange book on the ‘Life of Faith.’ I thought nothing could ever exceed
Mr. Ingham’s, but really this does; although they differ not an hair’s
breadth from each other, any more than from Mr. Sandeman.” (Wesley’s
Works, vol. iii., p. 193.)

[118] _Evangelical Magazine_, 1814, p. 308.

[119] Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon, vol. i., p. 303.

[120] _Wesleyan Times_, December 14th, 1863.

[121] It is a noticeable fact, that Whitefield also was extremely fond of
reading plays, not only when at school in Gloucester, but, even after he
went to Oxford.

[122] _Methodist Magazine_, 1798, p. 172.

[123] For further particulars of Kezziah Westley, see Memoir of Westley
Hall.

[124] Holmes’s “History of the United Brethren,” vol. ii., p. 38.

[125] Wesley’s sister, Kezziah, now Gambold’s guest.

[126] The Works of Rev. John Gambold, p. 260.

[127] The first edition was published in 1773, with the following
title: “The Martyrdom of Ignatius; a Tragedy. Written in the year 1740.
By the late John Gambold, at that time Minister of Stanton-Harcourt,
Oxfordshire,” 8vo. Cadell, etc.

[128] Wesley’s Works, vol. iii., p. 388.

[129] Stevenson’s “City Road Chapel,” p. 28.

[130] Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 97.

[131] Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 245.

[132] Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 246.

[133] “The Moravians Compared and Detected,” 1775, p. 150.

[134] It is said, on what authority we know not, that Gambold’s
contributions to this hymn-book consisted of twenty-eight original hymns,
and eleven translations from the Greek, Latin, or German. (_Wesleyan
Times_, January 23, 1865.)

The following are the first lines of both, the numbers being those of the
hymns as they are placed in the respective volumes:—

TRANSLATIONS.

    Vol. I. 182. Ye elect, who peace possess unshaken.
       ”    183. I’m bound fast, with Jesus’ grave clothes platted.
       ”    184. In this sense we’re a body.
       ”    191. Jesu, Saviour of man’s nature.
       ”    192. Be propitious.
       ”    193. O thou eternal Saviour.
       ”    208. Majestic Father! whose pity gave.
       ”    211. Saviour of the nations, come.
       ”    221. Thousand times by me be greeted.
       ”    222. O head so full of bruises.
       ”    442. O World! attention lend it.

ORIGINAL COMPOSITIONS.

    Vol. II.  1. God we praise, that in these days.
       ”     17. What says a soul, that now doth taste.
       ”     34. No more with trembling heart I try.
       ”     42. O tell me no more.
       ”     50. Ye who have known th’ atoning blood.
       ”     51. Jesu, that gentle touch of thine.
       ”     55. How happy is the heart.
       ”     56. Jesu, each blind and trembling soul.
       ”     58. How is it, Lamb?
       ”     66. How happy we, when guilt is gone.
       ”     67. How Christ his souls doth bless.
       ”     71. Grant Lord, I ne’er may doubt again.
       ”     89. Hear what of him and me this day.
       ”    127. After the labours of thy life.
       ”    138. Attend, O Saviour, to our prayer.
       ”    167. Few in former times could venture.
       ”    168. For us no night can be happier styled.
       ”    169. Whene’er him I can eat.
       ”    170. The man from Nazaret.
       ”    185. They who now God’s children are.
       ”    199. O my Lamb! thou slaughter’d Prince!
       ”    230. That I am thine, my Lord and God.
       ”    303. Should an historiographer.
       ”    304. Of this point so divine.
       ”    431. Since I, a worm unworthy.
       ”    451. Look on me, Lamb, a child of thine.

Can these hymns be Gambold’s? We doubt it. Nay, we hope that they are
not. It is scarcely possible to conceive, that a man of such culture
could write such doggerel. With two or three poor exceptions, they ought
never to have been printed. To say nothing of their horribly limping
rhythm, they have far too much of the irreverent familiarity with the
Divine Redeemer, which was so offensively employed in the hymns at that
time sung by the Moravian Brotherhood. The two best are republished in
Gambold’s Works.

[135] Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 303.

[136] Hutton’s Memoirs, p. 294, and Holmes’ History of the United
Brethren, vol. ii., p. 41.

[137] It is said, however, that he translated the “Divine Poems” of Rees
Pritchard, from Welsh into English; (_Wesleyan Times_, January 23, 1865),
a work which we have never seen.

[138] Holmes’ History of the United Brethren, vol. ii., p. 2, etc.

[139] It is a somewhat curious coincidence, that of the Oxford
Methodists, Whitefield died in 1770, Gambold in 1771, Ingham in 1772,
and Clayton in 1773. At least three of these also died in the month
of September. The two Wesleys were in the midst of the Calvinian
controversy,—the hottest of their lives.

[140] Methodist Magazine, 1814, p. 92.

[141] Charles Wesley’s Journal, vol. ii., p. 393.

[142] Mr. Hutchins, one of the Oxford Methodists, and afterwards doctor,
and rector of Lincoln College, was Hervey’s tutor (_Gospel Magazine_,
1769, p. 12).

[143] Coke and Moore’s “Life of Wesley,” p. 51.

[144] _Arminian Magazine_, 1798, p. 171.

[145] The letter was written on the Sabbath.

[146] _Evangelical Magazine_, 1794, p. 295.

[147] Memoirs of Risdon Darracott, p. 24.

[148] Memoirs of Risdon Darracott, p. 155.

[149] Mr. Ryland writes,—“Mr. Hervey began the study of the Hebrew about
the nineteenth year of his age, by the instigation of an acquaintance,
who gave him no manner of assistance. The only book he took up was the
Westminster Hebrew Grammar. That book seems to be contrived by the devil
to prevent the learning of the Hebrew language: it is dark and obscure,
harsh and unpleasant, ugly and disgustful, dull and listless; and Hervey
threw it by in despair. After a long time and much perplexity, by a happy
Providence, there was another Fellow of Lincoln College, who, seeing
Hervey in his painful embarrassment, pitied him, and took him into his
bosom. He conducted him to the first chapter of Genesis, and analysed
every word; he taught him to reduce every noun to its proper pattern; he
instructed him to trace every verb to its proper root, and to work every
verb through the active and passive conjugations. If the devil could have
had his way, we should have lost one of the finest Hebrew scholars in the
world; but, after Mr. Hervey had learnt to analyse the first chapter of
Genesis, he went on like a giant, and, to my certain knowledge, became
one of the first scholars in Europe for a familiar knowledge of the
Hebrew Bible.”

[150] _Arminian Magazine_, 1778, p. 132.

[151] He was ordained a priest, at Exeter, in the month of December, 1739.

[152] Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 81.

[153] _Gospel Magazine_, 1771, p. 174.

[154] In after-years, called Hartland Abbey.

[155] _Arminian Magazine_, 1778, p. 132.

[156] This refers to Wesley’s visit to Herrnhut in 1738.

[157] Wesley’s Works, vol. iv., p. 473.

[158] _Evangelical Magazine_, 1794, p. 373.

[159] _Evangelical Magazine_, 1794, p. 503; and A Selection of Letters,
partly Original, by J. Hervey, 1816, p. 261.

[160] From a long printed letter, of twenty-four octavo pages, we learn,
that, this society was formed, as early as May 21, 1739, before the
Methodist Societies were formed. Hervey refers to the “_scaring_ reports,
that had lately been raised concerning religious societies,” and proceeds
to state their object, and their practices. The society at Bideford
was, “by no means, in contradistinction to the Established Church, but
in dutiful conformity to her.” He says, “Woodward’s rules we purpose
punctually to observe, reading his exhortations distinctly and solemnly;
offering up his prayers humbly and reverently; only with this difference,
that some edifying book be substituted in the room of religious talk,
not because we disapprove of religious conference, but because we think
ourselves scarcely capable of managing it with regularity, propriety,
and order. We set up no examination, nor require any confession before
others; but hope to be constant, careful, and strict, in searching our
hearts, and acknowledging our iniquities before the all-seeing God.”

[161] _Evangelical Magazine_, 1806, p. 28.

[162] The Rev. Mr. Thompson, Rector of St Gennys, a warm friend of the
Oxford Methodists.

[163] Most likely William Chapman, the Oxford Methodist.

[164] This was probably July 17, 1743, for Whitefield writes on Tuesday,
July 19th, “I came here” (Bristol) “to preach at the fair, because people
from all parts flock hither at that season. Yesterday I preached four
times. Last night was such a time as I never saw in Bristol society
before. To-morrow, God willing, I set out for Hampton, to see what can
be done for the poor persecuted sheep there. I hear I am threatened, but
Jesus will stand by me.”

It may be added, that, a few days before, Whitefield had been almost
murdered at this self-same Hampton. First of all, the mob threw him into
a lime-pit, and then twice over into a deep brook of water (Whitefield’s
Letters, Nos. 527 and 528).

[165] _Gospel Magazine_, 1777, p. 260.

[166] This was left out in the first edition, but inserted in subsequent
ones. It was a long, but irrelevant comment, on a verse by Pope,
inscribed on the monument of Dr. Stonehouse’s wife, in Northampton church.

[167] The motto afterwards selected was: “Every stone that we look upon,
in this repository of past ages, is both an entertainment and a monitor.”
(“Plain Dealer,” vol. i., No. 42.)

[168] Probably Wesley, who was now in London. Whitefield was in America.

[169] _Gospel Magazine_, 1771, p. 176.

[170] _Evangelical Magazine_, 1802, p. 393.

[171] The seat of Hervey’s friend, Mr. Orchard.

[172] Doubtless, the Rev. Mr. Bennet, of Tresmere.

[173] Mr. Thompson, though not an Oxford Methodist, had begun to preach
the Methodist doctrine of salvation by faith, and had received Charles
Wesley, with open arms, at St. Gennys. He had allowed the branded
itinerant to preach twice in his parish church, and had kept him
company on a preaching excursion to Penryn, Gwennap “Pit,” and other
places. In Mr. Bennet’s Church, at Tresmere, a strange scene had been
witnessed. Charles Wesley was the preacher, and, on his declaring, that,
by “harmless diversions,” he had been “kept dead to God, asleep in the
devil’s arms, secure in a state of damnation for eighteen years,” Mr.
Merriton, one of his travelling companions, added aloud, “And I for
twenty-five;” “And I,” cried Mr. Thompson, “for thirty-five;” “And I,”
said Mr. Bennet, “for above seventy.” This was quite enough to expose
Thompson to the ecclesiastical anger of the bishop of the diocese.

[174] The battle at Culloden.

[175] His “Descant on Creation,” also was published in 1746. It is so
well known as not to need further notice.

[176] The eminent mathematician and astronomer.

[177] “Contemplations on the Night.”

[178] The motto really used was the following:—

    “Night is fair Virtue’s immemorial friend:
    The conscious Moon, through every distant age,
    Has held a lamp to Wisdom.”

[179] The society mentioned on a previous page.

[180] The famous French novelist, who died in 1777.

[181] _Gospel Magazine_, 1771, p. 179.

[182] Hervey was godfather to the son of his friend, Mr. Orchard.

[183] Dr. Stonehouse was one of Hervey’s most intimate and confidential
friends. For seven years, he was an infidel, and even wrote a pamphlet
against the Christian religion. He was brought to the obedience of the
faith by the labours of Dr. Doddridge and Hervey. After the death of his
wife, he entered into holy orders; and, for many years, officiated as
minister in St James’s Church, Bristol. He was a man of great ability,
was no mean poet, published many religious treatises, and died in 1795,
full of years and honour.

[184] _Evangelical Magazine_, 1811, p. 338.

[185] Not to mention other places, Wesley already had, in connection with
his Old Foundery, in London, a dispensary, a poor-house, a day-school,
and a lending society, to which must be added an efficient organization
for visiting and relieving the afflicted poor in their own houses.

[186] _Arminian Magazine_, 1778, p. 34.

[187] _London Magazine_, 1749, p. 436.

[188] Hervey’s book became so popular, that, in more instances than one,
some parts of it were turned into poetry. The most notable instance was
that of Mr. T. Newcomb, M.A., who, in 1757, published “Mr. Hervey’s
Contemplations on the Night, done into blank verse, after the manner
of Dr. Young.” In 1764, the same gentleman published the whole of the
“Meditations and Contemplations,” in the same form. It may be added,
that, the demand for the “Meditations and Contemplations” was such, that,
in 1764, not fewer than seventeen _authorized_ editions of the work had
been published, or about one a year from the time when the work was first
printed.

[189] To some, it may seem strange, that, Whitefield did not occupy
Hervey’s pulpit; but it must be remembered, that, as yet, Hervey was
only his father’s _curate_. Notwithstanding this, however, Hervey, in
1749, took the liberty of inviting Whitefield to occupy his church.
Whitefield’s reply was characterized by greater prudence then he
sometimes manifested. In a letter dated, “Chelsea, January 13, 1749,” he
writes,—

“You will not be offended if I tell you that good Lady Huntingdon saw
your letter. She was much pleased with it, and has a great regard for
you. The prospect of doing good to the rich that attend her ladyship’s
house, is very encouraging. I preach twice a week, and, yesterday, Lord
Bolingbroke was one of my auditors. His lordship was pleased to express
very great satisfaction. I thank you for your kind invitation to your
house and pulpit. I would not bring you, or any of my friends, into
difficulties, for owning poor, unworthy, ill and hell-deserving me. But,
if Providence should give me a fair call, I should be glad to come your
way. I rejoice in the prospect of having some ministers in our church
pulpits that own a crucified Redeemer.”—_Whitefield’s Letters_, No. 726.

[190] Hervey’s removal to London was a sort of abduction, accomplished by
Whitefield, Dr. Stonehouse, and the Rev. Thomas Hartley. The particulars
need not be given. Suffice it to say, on his arrival, he wrote his father
as follows:—

“I am now at Mr. Whitefield’s house, where everything is neat and
convenient; great care is taken of me, and a hearty welcome given me. The
house is very open and airy, and has no bug, a sort of city gentry for
whom I have no fondness. I hope my mother has taken care to get my parish
supplied. I desire her to send me some shirts, a silk handkerchief or
two, a pair of shoes, and anything that she may think necessary. I have
already bespoken a new suit of clothes, and a wig. Dr. Stonehouse, when
he pressed me into this expedition, put five guineas into my hand, for
which I am accountable. I would not have Mary clean my study, lest she
should displace or lose any papers, of more importance than they appear
to be. I conclude myself, with duty to my mother and love to sisters,
honoured sir, your dutiful son,

                                                           “JAMES HERVEY.”

[191] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. 2, p. 75.

[192] Whitefield’s Letters, No. 860.

[193] This refers to his greatest work, “Theron and Aspasio,” published,
in three octavo volumes, in 1755.

[194] _Gospel Magazine_, 1777, p. 298.

[195] Charles Wesley partly supplied his lack of service (see C. Wesley’s
Journal, from June 1 to June 27, 1751).

[196] Letters to Lady F. Shirley. No. 25.

[197] In reference to this, Hervey, writing to his father, says, “The
original picture, I presume, will be offered to me; and then I accept
it, and present it to you. The drawing is to cost five guineas, and the
mezzotinto copper-plate fifteen guineas.”

[198] Mr. Nixon was a man of considerable learning; but not a poet. The
following are his limping lines:—

    “Williams! ’tis yours to bid the canvas wear,
    By art illusive, Hervey’s form and air;
    Oh! with like happy labour, could I trace
    Each virtue, each exalted Christian grace,
    Each heavenly gift with which his soul is blest,
    And fix the bright assemblage in my breast;
    Then how transcendent far would be my plan,
    You paint his mimic shade: I’d live the man.”

[199] Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon, vol. i., p. 191.

[200] While in London Hervey had the offer of a tutorship in Jamaica.
Writing to his father, he says,—“Dr. Nichols has made me an offer, which
many young clergymen would covet:—to go over to Jamaica, to be tutor to a
son of one of the most considerable persons in the island; for which, I
should be entitled immediately to £100 sterling a year, also meat, drink,
washing, and lodging; with an assurance of having, in a little time, a
living of a hundred and fifty. I am greatly obliged to the doctor, but
have taken leave to decline accepting the proposal.”

[201] His Pamphlet on Bolingbroke’s “Study and Use of History.”

[202] Probably the eminent Rev. Stephen Hales, D.D., of Teddington,
Fellow of the Royal Society, a Member of the French Academy of Sciences,
and Clerk of the Closet to the Princess Dowager of Wales.

[203] The two livings of Weston-Favel and Collingtree were when worth
about £180 a year. According to the “Clergy List,” they are now worth
£567 a year; and the united population of the two villages is about
600. For several years, the Rev. Moses Brown was Hervey’s curate at
Collingtree.

[204] Whitefield’s “Letters.” No. 916.

[205] Whitefield’s “Works,” vol. ii., p. 404.

[206] Probably “Theron and Aspasio,” now in hand, though not published
for three years afterwards. It could not be the “Remarks on Bolingbroke”;
for there is no “scenery” in them.

[207] “Theron and Aspasio.”

[208] “Memorials of Rev. W. Bull,” p. 8.

[209] Hervey was remarkable for his beautiful handwriting.

[210] _Gospel Magazine_, 1774, p. 139.

[211] “Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 188.

[212] “Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 190. The
work was ultimately dedicated to Lady Frances Shirley.

[213] _Gospel Magazine_, 1774, p. 183.

[214] “Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 192.

[215] Letters to Lady F. Shirley, No. 106.

[216] Letters to Rev. J. Ryland. No. 6.

[217] Letters to Ryland, No. 7.

[218] Letters to Lady F. Shirley, No. 69.

[219] The widow of Frederick, Prince of Wales.

[220] Dr. Thomas, Bishop of Peterborough.

[221] Letters to Lady F. Shirley, No. 70.

[222] The Prince of Wales, afterwards George the Third.

[223] Andrew Stone, a proud, very able, and very mercenary man, and
sub-preceptor of the Prince of Wales.

[224] Dr. Hales was clerk of the closet to the Princess Dowager of Wales.

[225] Letters to Lady F. Shirley, No. 73.

[226] Wesley’s “Works,” vol. x., p. 305.

[227] _Methodist Magazine_, 1847, p. 965.

[228] The work was published in two sizes: 3 vols., 8vo, 18_s._; and 3
vols., 12mo, 9_s._

[229] Wesley writes:—“The twelfth dialogue is unexceptionable; and
contains such an illustration of the wisdom of God in the structure of
the human body, as, I believe, cannot be paralleled in either ancient or
modern writers” (Wesley’s “Works,” vol. x., p. 314).

[230] Wesley’s “Works,” vol x., p. 322.

[231] Wesley’s “Works,” vol. x., p. 306.

[232] Published in two volumes, 8vo, in 1757.

[233] Published in 1760, pp. 224, octavo.

[234] Three weeks afterwards, Lady Frances Shirley herself sent this
valuable work to Hervey, who described the present as “a magnificent and
beautiful set of books; the paper fine; the type grand; the binding rich;
the principal contents invaluable.”

[235] Letters to Ryland, No. 15.

[236] Ibid., No. 16.

[237] Letters to Ryland, No. 17.

[238] Objections to Dialogue xvi. In other words, that, saving faith is
“A real persuasion, that the blessed Jesus has shed His blood for _me_,
and fulfilled all righteousness in _my stead_: that, through this great
atonement and glorious obedience, He has purchased, even for my sinful
soul, reconciliation with God, sanctifying grace, and all spiritual
blessings”; and that, in the case of a man convinced of his sin and
danger, this is the _only_ requisite in order to the obtaining of pardon,
and adoption into the family of God.

[239] “An intended collection of the most evangelical pieces from the
beginning of the Reformation down to the present day.”

[240] Wesley’s “Christian Library, consisting of Extracts and Abridgments
of the Choicest Pieces of Practical Divinity, which have been published
in the English Tongue.” In fifty-one volumes, 12mo; begun in 1749, and
now being completed, in 1755. Hervey’s critique is unjust, and indicates
the alienation, which already existed between the two Oxford Methodists.

[241] Letters to Lady F. Shirley, No. 83.

[242] Letters to Ryland, No. 19.

[243] See Whitefield’s “Works,” vol. iii., p. 133.

[244] Doubtless, Wesley.

[245] Whitefield, in a letter to Hervey, dated, December 9th, 1756,
observes:—“Last night, Mr. M⸺ informed me, that, Mr. C⸺” (udworth?)
“showed him a pamphlet, wrote on purpose to prove the fundamental errors
of my printed sermons, and that you had offered to preface it, but he
chose you should not. That this is true, I as much believe, as that I am
now at Rome. But I wish that my dear friend may not repent his connection
and correspondence with some, when it is too late. This is my comfort, I
have delivered my soul. Mr. R⸺ has sent me the two volumes of ‘Jenks’s
Meditations,’ and desires me to annex my recommendation to yours. I have
answered, that, it will not be prudent, or beneficial to him, so to do. I
fear they are too large to go off.”

[246] These Sermons were published in 1757; but preached in 1756.

[247] Letters to Lady F. Shirley, Nos. 91 and 95.

[248] Hervey’s Fast-Day Sermons had an enormous circulation. In a letter,
dated August 5, 1758, he writes,—“Besides six thousand printed in London,
an edition was printed in Scotland, which was speedily sold off. I
was also desired, by a Society established for giving away religious
books among the poor, to grant them leave to print an impression for
this purpose. In Ireland they have been printed. Into Dutch they are
translated; and a letter, from America, informs me, that, they have
been reprinted there.” All this was within two years of their first
publication.

[249] _Evangelical Magazine_, 1777, p. 73.

[250] “Marshall on Sanctification;” and “Jenks’s Meditations.”

[251] Letters to Ryland, Nos. 57 and 63.

[252] The following are some of the publications to which Sandeman’s book
gave birth:—

1. A Sufficient Answer to the Author of the Letters on Theron and
Aspasio. By J. Wesley.

2. Animadversions on the Letters on Theron and Aspasio.

3. A Plain Account of Faith in Jesus Christ.

4. An Epistolary Correspondence, relating to the Letters on Theron and
Aspasio.

5. The Law of Nature defended by Scripture.

6. The True Comer. By Colin Mackie.

7. Thoughts, on Letters to the Author of Theron and Aspasio.

8. An Inquiry into the Spirit and Tendency of Letters on Theron and
Aspasio.

9. Palaemon’s Creed, reviewed and examined: in two volumes. By David
Wilson.

10. Nymphas to Sosipater, remarking on the Letters on Theron and Aspasio.

[253] Wesley says, “both the misplacing the commas, and the putting of
‘mankind’ for ‘this kind,’ were the printer’s fault, not mine; a part of
those numerous errors of the press, which were occasioned by my absence,
from it, and the inaccuracy of the corrector” (Wesley’s Works, vol. x. p.
332).

[254] Wesley’s “Works,” vol. x. p. 305.

[255] _Gospel Magazine_, 1775, p. 255.

[256] _Arminian Magazine_, 1778, p. 136.

[257] _New Spiritual Magazine_, 1783, p. 164.

[258] Hervey’s sermons, printed in his lifetime, were the following:—1.
“The Cross of Christ, the Christian’s Glory;” a Visitation Sermon.
2. “The Time of Danger.” “The Means of Safety.” And “The Way of
Holiness;” three Fast-day Sermons. After his death, the following were
published:—1. “The Ministry of Reconciliation.” 2. “The Grounds of
Christian Rejoicing.” 3. “Salvation by Christ.” 4. “Many made Righteous
by the Obedience of One,” two sermons. 5. “The Divinity of Christ,” four
sermons. 6. “On Repentance.” 7. “Search the Scriptures.” 8. “On Love to
God,” two sermons.

[259] Life of Venn, p. 332.

[260] The title of the surreptitious edition was, “Aspasio Vindicated,
and the Scripture Doctrine of Imputed Righteousness Defended against the
Objections and Animadversions of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley. In Eleven
Letters, written and prepared for the Press, by the late Rev. Mr. J⸺s
H⸺y, A.B.”

[261] Wesley’s Works, vol. viii., p. 334.

[262] The sermon was addressed to the second regiment of foot guards,
who, to the beat of the drum, marched to the chapel, with the Commander
of the garrison at their head.

[263] William Wogan was born in 1694; and, after being educated at
Westminster and Oxford, entered the army. In 1718, he married Catherine
Stanhope, of the family of the Earls of Chesterfield. He died at Ealing
in 1758. He was a Millennarian, but attended the daily service of the
Church of England, and advocated a strict attention to the Church’s
rubrics.—“Private Journal and Literary Remains of Dr. Byron.”

[264] A recent Bishop of the Church of England, on perusing this
manuscript letter, wrote: “It is a very interesting document, and leads
to many reflections. Mr. Broughton’s day, and the day of his once friend
Wesley, were more important in the history of our Church than many are
willing to believe. They disturbed, but they taught; and they led others
to think and teach. Whatever might be their errors, it was not for the
careless and thoughtless and the ignorant to be their judges. It might be
for the best that Whitefield would not take the advice in this letter;
but the affectionate strain is peculiarly pleasing, and the pious union
between two persons, who differed on some points, may be a lesson that
need not be lost even in our own day.”

[265] On this occasion, Broughton administered the Sacrament, and prayed.

[266] _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1741, p. 387.

[267] A pet name.

[268] In the life of Venn, Broughton is called “Mr. _Bryan_ Broughton,
Secretary to the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.” This is a
mistake. There was a Mr. _Bryan_ Broughton; but he was not the man whom
the author meant.

[269] This was a most unaccountable and barbarous murder. The lady was
the wife of Captain Dalrymple. The wretched youth had lived in the
service of his master and mistress for the last five years. In the full
confession that he made, he stated, he had no dislike to the unfortunate
lady, and he murdered her, not from malice or for plunder, but solely at
the instigation of the devil. The details of the deed are too revolting
to be here recited. Suffice it to say, the murder was committed “of
Wigmore Street, Cavendish Square,” on March 25, 1746; and, that, exactly
a month afterwards, “Matthew Henderson was carried in a cart from
Newgate, and executed at the end of New Bond Street. He went to the
place of execution in a white waistcoat, drawers, and stockings. Two
clergymen, one of the Church of England, and the other of the Church of
Scotland, prayed with him, in the cart, for a considerable time. His body
was carried from the gallows, and hung in irons, on a common, about five
miles from London, on the Edgware Road” (_London Magazine_, 1746).

[270] A fourth edition of this pamphlet was published in 1763.

[271] The Society’s Report, for 1763, contains a notice, “To all Farmers,
Gardeners, and other Occupiers of Land in England,” from the Trustees for
the Charity Schools in St. Andrew’s, Holborn, to the effect, that, they
had been informed, the country was in need of labourers; and that they
were prepared “to bind Boys apprentices for seven years, to learn the art
of husbandry; and Girls for five years, to do household work;” and, that,
they would give £5 with every boy, and £3 with every girl so apprenticed.
The Boys had been taught reading, writing, and the first five rules of
Arithmetic; and the Girls to read and write, and “to do plain work.”

[272] They were begun in 1688, and were all supported by private
subscriptions. (Report of Society, for 1772.)

[273] The Rev. John Clayton, also, was a subscriber, of £2 2_s._ per
annum.

[274] Thomas Broughton, the Secretary of the Society for Promoting
Christian Knowledge, and Thomas Broughton, Vicar of St. Mary Redcliff,
Bristol, and Prebendary of Sarum, have sometimes been mistakenly
considered one and the same person. The latter, an eminent author, was
son of the Rector of St. Andrew’s, Holborn; and died, at Bristol, in
1774, at the age of 70. It is a curious fact, that, both the Thomas
Broughtons died in the same month of the year, and on the same day of the
month, and that the day was St. _Thomas’s_.

[275] Wesley’s Works, vol. xiii., p. 288.

[276] Ibid., vol. xii., p. 6.

[277] Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 81.

[278] Supplement to Whitefield’s Answer to Bishop of London’s Letter, p.
8.

[279] Wesley’s Works, vol. viii., p. 335.

[280] _Methodist Magazine_, 1778, p. 177.

[281] Ibid., p. 176.

[282] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. i., p. 129.

[283] The remainder of the letter refers to some arrangements to render
assistance to Mr. Fox, who accompanied Kinchin and Wesley to Manchester.
By Wesley’s advice, he had settled at Oxford; and it was now proposed to
subscribe £30, to pay his rent, and to establish him in business, as a
vendor of “fowls, pigs, and cheeses.”

[284] Another entry in the same Register is as follows:—“The parish
church of Thorp-Arch was rebuilt in 1756, and finished in 1762. William
Sisset, Esq., gave the stone. The Rev. Mr. Atkinson gave fifteen guineas,
and paid for the plastering. His mother, Mrs. Agnes Atkinson, gave the
font. Lady Hastings gave five pounds for the pulpit. Mr. Sisset built his
own and servants’ seats, and gave the painting of the pews. The rest was
done by the parishioners.”

[285] Even now, the united value of the two livings is not more than
about £400 a year.

[286] Wesley’s text on this occasion, was, “Unto him that worketh not,”
etc.; “the great truth,” he writes, “so little understood in what is
called a Christian country.” Whitelamb evidently understood it not.

[287] Wesley adds, “on my father’s tombstone.”

[288] The rich farmer, who married Wesley’s sister Susannah,—a brutal
fellow, who was reduced to poverty, and ultimately lived on alms, which
Wesley obtained for him, through Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell. The Rector of
Epworth used to speak of him as “the _wen_ of my family.”

[289] _Arminian Magazine_, 1778, p. 184.

[290] Wesley says, Whitelamb _offered_ it.

[291] Mrs. Wesley died about six weeks before this letter was written.
Kezziah Wesley died March 9, 1741, “full of thankfulness, resignation,
and love.”

[292] _Arminian Magazine_, 1778, p. 186.

[293] _Methodist Magazine_, 1845, p. 151.

[294] Clarke’s Wesley Family, vol. ii., p. 280.

[295] Clarke’s Wesley Family, vol. ii., p. 102.

[296] _Methodist Magazine_, 1845, p. 37.

[297] Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 75.

[298] Ibid., vol. xii., p. 453.

[299] Clarke’s Wesley Family, vol. ii., p. 184.

[300] C. Wesley’s Journal, vol i., p. 69.

[301] Clarke’s Wesley Family, vol. ii., p. 106.

[302] Ibid., p. 110.

[303] James Hutton, the publisher,—an early friend of the Wesleys, and
one of the principal Moravians in England.

[304] Wesley’s Works, vol. i., p. 279.

[305] Ibid., p. 286.

[306] The Moravians.

[307] Clarke’s Wesley Family, vol. ii., p. 338.

[308] Wesley’s Journal, 1st edition.

[309] It is difficult to say what is meant by the word “writings.” Does
it refer to some newspaper correspondence? Or to published sermons,
tracts, or pamphlets? I have never met with anything published by Westley
Hall himself; or heard of anything except a poetical epistle to his son,
mentioned hereafter; and his sermon, preached at Salisbury, in defence of
polygamy.

[310] Wesley’s Works, vol. ii., p. 214.

[311] Dove’s Wesley Family.




INDEX OF NAMES.


  A.

  Adam, Rev. Thomas, 357.

  Allen, Rev. J., 136, 138, 145.

  Armitage, Sir Samuel, 109.

  Atkinson, Rev. Christopher, 86, 371-373.

  Atkinson, Rev. Miles, 372.

  Aynscough, Rev. Thomas, 51.


  B.

  Battely, Rev. Mr., 335.

  Batty, Christopher, 123.

  Batty, Lawrence, 123.

  Batty, William, 123.

  Bennett, John, 118.

  Bennett, Rev. Mr., 242.

  Blackwell, Mr. Ebenezer, 382.

  Böhler, Peter, 88, 164, 341.

  Bolingbroke, Lord, 260, 270, 274.

  Bowman, Rev. William, 107, 117.

  Boyce, Rev. Mr., 361.

  Brandt, Abraham, 200.

  Broughton, Rev. Thomas, 23, 62, 214, 334-360.

  Brown, Rev. John, 326.

  Brown, Rev. Moses, 273, 287.

  Burton, Mr. Justice, 110.

  Byrom, Dr. John, 44-48, 51.


  C.

  Capel, Mr., 344.

  Capon, Rev. John, 1.

  Cennick, John, 147, 183, 260.

  Chapman, Rev. William, 208, 215, 230, 361.

  Charity Schools, 355, 374.

  Chesterfield, Lady, 260, 261.

  Churchill, Mr. Fleetwood, 137.

  Clarke, Dr. Adam, 388, 405.

  Clayton, Rev. John, 24-56, 199, 335, 357, 366, 386.

  Clements, Mr., 27, 29.

  Cotelerius, John Baptist, 37.

  Conyers, Rev. Richard, 357.

  Cranz, David, 196.

  _Critical Review_, 312.

  Cruttenden, Robert, 267.

  Cudworth, Rev. William, 260, 301, 302, 307, 314, 317, 318, 320, 321,
        323, 332.


  D.

  Dale, David, Esq., 145.

  _Daleites_, 145, 154.

  Darracott, Rev. Risdon, 209, 210.

  Dawson, Mr. William, 372.

  Deacon, Rev. Dr., 32, 34, 35, 39, 44-47, 49.

  Delamotte, Mr. Charles, 67-71, 75, 79, 80, 82, 83, 85.

  Delamotte, Mr. William, 85, 87, 116.

  Delamotte, Mrs., 342.

  Delitz, Countess, 260.

  Drew, Mr. Samuel, 152.

  Doddridge, Rev. Dr., 119, 209, 210, 238, 243, 244, 249, 252, 259,
        268, 288.

  Dover, Leonard, 120.


  E.

  Ellison, Richard, 382.

  Erskine, Rev. Dr., 332.

  Evelyn, Sir John, 348.


  F.

  _Fogg’s Weekly Journal_, 30.

  Fox, Mr., 364, 370.

  Frey, Andrew, 136.

  Fulneck, 127, 136.


  G.

  Gambold, Rev. John, 13, 20, 62, 130, 155-200, 214, 326, 364, 370, 396.

  George III., 289.

  Gerard, Rev. Mr., 7.

  Gibson, Bishop, 354.

  Gill, Rev. Dr., 260.

  Glass, Rev. John, 144, 145, 147.

  Godly, Rev. Mr., 87.

  Granville, Mary, 1, 2.

  Grimshaw, Rev. William, 129-132, 137, 153.


  H.

  Hales, Rev. Dr. Stephen, 272.

  Hall, Wesley, 404, 405.

  Hall, Westley, 29, 62, 65, 67, 89, 176, 367, 386-411.

  Harold, Sir John, 357.

  Hartley, Rev. Thomas, 259, 260, 357.

  Hastings, Lady Margaret, 121, 128, 131, 139, 140, 153.

  Haweis, Rev. Dr., 310.

  Henderson, Matthew, 352.

  Hertford, Countess of, 122.

  Hervey, Mr. Thomas, 236.

  Hervey, Mr. William, 322, 329-333.

  Hervey, Rev. James, 20, 23, 62, 140, 201-333, 362, 364, 369, 412.

  Hooker, Mr., 110-118.

  Hoole, Rev. Mr., 42.

  Hopson, Mr., 345.

  Hotham, Lady Gertrude, 260-262.

  Humphrey, Joseph, 218.

  Huntingdon, Countess of, 121, 129, 131, 138, 139, 145, 146, 152,
        257-261, 266, 268, 280.

  Huntingdon, Earl of, 121.

  Hutchins, Rev. Dr., 21, 86, 89, 202, 367, 370, 371.

  Hutton, Mr. James, 67, 68, 84, 88, 104, 119, 124-126, 130, 181, 182,
        189, 345, 394.

  Huygens, Mr., 244.


  I.

  Ingham, Rev. Benjamin, 20, 57-154, 179, 182, 199, 211, 367, 372.


  J.

  Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 410.


  K.

  Kaye, Sir John, 109.

  Kinchin, Rev. Charles, 42, 84, 86, 89, 212, 214, 220, 222, 367-370.

  Kirkham, Miss Betsy, 2, 3.

  Kirkham, Miss Sarah, 1, 3.

  Kirkham, Mr. Robert, 1-4, 7, 364.

  Kirkham, Rev. Lionel, 1.


  L.

  Lavington, Bishop, 192.

  Law, Rev. William, 62.

  Lever, Darcy, Esq., 40.

  Leupold, Tobias, 120.

  Lyndal, John, 379.


  M.

  Mackie, Colin, 314.

  Maddock, Rev. Abraham, 321.

  Medley, Mr., 281.

  Merriton, Rev. J., 243.

  Milner, Rev. Mr., 132.

  Molesworth, Mr., 137.

  Molther, Rev. Philip Henry, 95, 176, 177.

  Montague, Lady Mary, 122.

  Moravians, 68, 88, 95-97, 99, 120, 124-127, 130, 133-136, 175,
        181-188, 192, 345.

  Morgan, Mr. Charles, 15-23, 62, 66-68, 86, 209, 344.

  Morgan, Mr. Richard, 10, 12, 14, 15.

  Morgan, Mr. William, 1, 4-15, 30, 157.

  Moseley, Sir Edward, 44.


  N.

  Nash “Beau,” 232.

  Nelson, John, 94, 98-107, 123.

  Newcomb, Mr. T., 256.

  Nichols, Dr., 272.

  Nichols, Rev. Mr., 226, 228.

  Nicholson, Rev. Mr., 66.

  Nitschmann, Rev. David, 69, 88.

  Nixon, Rev. Mr., 269.

  Non-Jurors, 32.

  _North British Review_, 327.


  O.

  Oglethorpe, General, 67, 68, 71-74, 76, 78, 82, 378, 379.

  Ogilvie, Mr., 310.

  Okeley, Rev. Francis, 122, 130, 182.

  Orchard, Mrs., 230.

  Orchard, Paul, Esq., 214, 216, 225, 242, 249, 250.

  Ossulstone, Lord, 336.


  P.

  Payne, Mr., 237.

  Pearsall, Rev. Mr., 265.

  Perronet, Rev. Vincent, 357.

  Peterborough, Bishop of, 288, 289.

  Philips, Sir John, 29, 67, 88.

  Piers, Rev. Henry, 163.

  Potter, Bishop, 36, 60, 163, 212.

  Pritchard, Rees, 195.


  R.

  Ridley, Rev. Glocester, 356.

  Rimius, Henry, 135.

  Ritchie, Miss Elizabeth, 62.

  Rogers, Mrs. Hester Ann, 62.

  Rogers, Rev. Jacob, 115, 116, 122.

  Romaine, Rev. William, 140, 144-146, 151, 260, 323.

  Ryland, Rev. John, 202, 212, 279-281, 285, 287, 300, 301, 307, 309,
        312, 315, 325, 329, 330.


  S.

  Salmon, Mr. Joseph W., 62.

  Salmon, Mr. Matthew, 61, 62, 64, 65, 335.

  Salmon, Miss, 62.

  Sandeman, Mr. Robert, 140, 145, 147, 151, 313, 317.

  Sandemanianism, 141, 145.

  Seward, Mr., 90, 364.

  Sherlock, Bishop, 134.

  Shirley, Lady Frances, 260, 263, 268, 270, 271, 274, 281, 282, 286,
        288, 290, 291, 299, 306, 308, 321.

  Sisset, William, Esq., 372.

  Smith, Mr. William, 26, 364.

  Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 266, 349-359.

  Society for Propagation of Gospel in Foreign Parts, 350.

  Society for Reformation of Manners, 349.

  Spangenberg, Rev. A. G., 88, 119, 345.

  Sparks, Rev. Mr., 343.

  Spinckes, Rev. Mr., 37.

  Stone, Mr. Andrew, 289.

  Stonehouse, Dr., 237, 244, 245, 249, 251, 259, 260, 262, 269, 275,
        277, 309, 312, 321.


  T.

  Taylor, David, 103, 123.

  Thompson, Miss, 243.

  Thompson, Rev. G., 218, 229, 239, 242.

  Thorold, Sir John, 357.

  Toltschig, John, 88, 104, 105, 127, 128.

  Townley, Colonel, 44, 45.

  Travis, Henry, Esq., 374, 377.


  V.

  Venn, Rev. Henry, 325, 347-349, 357.


  W.

  Watteville, Baron, 88.

  Watts, Dr., 147, 252, 283.

  _Weekly Miscellany_, 110-118.

  Wesley, Emily, 39.

  Wesley, Kezziah, 163, 171, 384, 387-389, 391, 392.

  Wesley, Martha, 2, 382, 387-392, 396, 408-411.

  Wesley, Mary, 376, 378.

  Wesley, Matthew, 9.

  Wesley, Mehetabel, 376.

  Wesley, Rev. Charles, 1, 11, 17, 43, 56, 62, 64, 67-71, 78, 82, 84,
        86, 89, 90, 95, 139, 147, 156, 157, 168, 177, 201, 218, 260,
        261, 266, 267, 290, 302, 323, 326, 342-344, 346, 368, 383, 384,
        388, 391-395, 397, 404, 406, 409, 411.

  Wesley, Rev. John, 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 9, 13, 14, 16-23, 25, 26, 31, 35,
        38, 42, 55-75, 79, 80, 82-85, 88-91, 94, 95, 97, 103, 106, 115,
        126-128, 132, 133, 135-137, 139, 146, 147, 151, 152, 157-162,
        164, 176-180, 202, 203, 211, 215, 217, 218, 221, 238, 253,
        266, 270, 284, 289, 298, 301-307, 310, 314-320, 326, 328-334,
        341, 348, 353, 362, 364-369, 372, 375, 376, 380-385, 387-389,
        394-403, 407, 411-413.

  Wesley, Rev. Samuel, senior, 6, 15, 374-380.

  Wesley, Samuel, junior, 4, 11, 391, 392.

  Wesley, Sarah, 410.

  Wesley, Susannah, 9, 384, 386-388, 392, 396.

  White, Rev. George, 129.

  Whitefield, Rev. George, 62, 89, 93, 97, 105, 123, 130, 131, 139,
        145, 156, 177, 199, 206, 215, 219, 222, 223, 226, 230, 256,
        257, 260-262, 266-269, 277-279, 302, 303, 307, 320, 326, 334,
        339, 363, 395.

  Whitelamb, Rev. John, 374-386.

  Wilson, Bishop, 187.

  Wilson, David, 314.

  Wilson, Rev. Thomas, 188.

  Wogan, Mr. William, 29, 60, 340.


  Z.

  Zinzendorf, Count, 68, 88, 104, 119, 120, 130, 132-135, 184, 187-192,
        196.





_TYERMAN’S LIFE OF JOHN WESLEY._


THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, M.A., Founder of the
Methodists.

BY THE REV. LUKE TYERMAN,

AUTHOR OF “THE LIFE OF REV. SAMUEL WESLEY.”

_THREE STEEL PORTRAITS._

Complete in Three Vols., Crown 8vo, Cloth, $7.50; Half Calf, $13.50.

The “Life and Times of the Rev. John Wesley,” by Tyerman, is, if we
may judge of the whole from the first volume, the most satisfactory
exhibit of that good and great man with which I am acquainted. It is
impartial and exhaustive. It gives all the known facts, and, in difficult
questions, leaves the reader to form his own opinions. The portrait,
therefore, is full, round, and lifelike. With all his rare and, in
many respects, unrivaled excellences, Mr. Wesley was a man with like
passions with other men. The work reminds one of the “Life and Epistles
of St Paul,” by Conybeare & Howson. It will, I doubt not, have a wide
circulation. It merits it.—Rev. LEVI SCOTT, D.D., _Bishop M. E. Church_.

I have examined the volume carefully, and consider it vastly superior
to any biography of Mr. Wesley which has heretofore appeared.—Rev. M.
SIMPSON, D.D., _Bishop M. E. Church_.

I have read the volume with pleasure and profit. It is by far the best
work that has as yet been written on that subject. I trust it will have
an extensive circulation.—Rev. E. R. AMES, D.D., _Bishop M. E. Church_.

I prize the volume very highly indeed, for the sake of the author and the
subject.—Rev. E. S. JANES, D.D., _Bishop M. E. Church_.

My conviction is that it is by far the most exhaustive and trustworthy
life of Wesley extant. The plan of the work, by the division into
_years_, is convenient and happy; and, although no pretensions are
made to a finished literary style, and the writing is rather careless
than complete, it is both racy and readable. In Mr. Tyerman’s desire
for scrupulous impartiality he has sometimes, by a not uncommon mental
process, landed on the other side of it. There are some details which
might have been well omitted; there are some expressions of opinion
which I deem to be hasty and mistaken; and it is, at best, a dubious
wisdom to have rescued so many foul pamphlets of the former time from
the chandler’s basket. But, with these small drawbacks, the work is
a monument of industry and painstaking, and a faithful portrait of a
man in whom the strongest light has failed to discover any but small
impurities—like thin clouds which just relieve the eye of the beholder,
and through which, hardly dimmed by their shadows, we see the sun in his
strength.—Rev. W. MORLEY PUNSHON.

An indispensable standard of Methodist literature, and you confer an
important favor upon the denomination by its publication.—Rev. ABEL
STEVENS, LL.D.

I am fully convinced that it far excels any other biography of the
founder of Methodism. The candor of the author, his critical and correct
taste, his laborious research, which has been rewarded with the discovery
of much unpublished matter, his shunning of fulsome adulation, and yet
ardent sympathy with his subject and profound appreciation of the mission
of the son of the Epworth rector, conspire to place his work in the
front rank of ecclesiastical biography.—Rev. J. F. HURST, D.D., _Drew
Theological Seminary_.

Mr. Tyerman’s work was fairly called for, both by the fact that no life
of Wesley had been published for forty years, and because Southey’s, the
only one tolerably written as a literary performance, is the production
of a writer who was not himself a member of the Society, who in few
points of character resembled the subject of his memoir, and possessed
no sources of information which were not already before the world. Mr.
Tyerman is a Wesleyan minister, and his materials, both printed and in
manuscript, have been accumulating for seventeen years. He has made
most diligent use of them; and his history, in regard to its facts, is
incomparably more full than any that preceded it.—_Saturday Review_,
London.

The time had fairly come for a new and original life of Wesley,
embodying, as such a work must, a history of the forming period of
Methodism.... The changes wrought by the lapse of time have prepared the
way for fuller, fairer, and more appreciative examination and statement
of the subject, and it is well that the execution of that task has
devolved upon one so competent. Mr. Tyerman is thoroughly a Wesleyan,
and yet he is able to discuss the subject taken in hand with judicial
calmness. A ripe scholar—having made Methodist history a specialty—and a
practiced writer, he possessed peculiar fitness for that kind of work,
and viewing his subject from so great a distance of time, and in the
softened light of a hundred years ago, he was better situated than any
of his predecessors in the same field to see the subject in its true
relations and circumstances. He has been charged with injustice to the
good name of Wesley, but to us it seems quite otherwise. Time and its
changes have removed the halo in which it was once encircled and its
real character hidden. Some of this false glory having passed away, its
unreality is recognized; but as all true greatness appears greatest when
set in the clearest light, so nowhere else are the character and the
works of Wesley shown to so great advantage as in these pages. We have
read the work with real pleasure, and we trust it will meet with a large
sale, and be widely read by both Methodists and others.—_N. Y. Christian
Advocate._

Full of interest as this work will be for Wesleyans, it will also
prove most truly so for the philosophic observer of religious
movements.—_Westminster Review_, London.

Mr. Tyerman is master of much valuable material that no early biographer
or critic has made use of.—_Examiner_, London.

The life is one of intense and varied interest. Not a page can we open
without our attention being riveted. There is no doubt that this will be
recognized henceforth as the standard life of the great preacher, and we
are thankful that such a book has been written by one fully capable of
understanding and describing its religious influences.—_Christian Work._

A most interesting and real picture of John Wesley as he was, of the
times in which he lived, and of the remarkable movements and scenes
in which he bore so prominent a part. There is much in this volume to
interest Christians of all denominations.—_Lutheran Observer._

The writer is in every way fitted to the task. Himself a Wesleyan
minister, and in full sympathy with the life and work of the subject of
his memoir, it was to him a labor of love and delight. He also enjoyed
better facilities than any of his predecessors for the prosecution of
the work. His materials, both written and printed, had been accumulating
for nearly twenty years, and he has availed himself of them with no
common degree of diligence and skill. His work is not only admirable
from a literary point of view, but, in regard to its facts, is so full
and in every way authenticated with such painstaking scrutiny as to be
incomparably superior to any of the former biographies of Wesley. It is
not a work for Methodists alone, nor one in which the religious world
only will be interested. John Wesley was no ordinary man. Intellectually
far above the average standing of the ministry, of naturally broad
and liberal views, still further enlarged by education and experience
with the world, he excited a wider and more lasting influence upon the
religious thought of England and America than any other man of his time.
His name will always be held in grateful remembrance by all who honor
worth and sincerity, and who see in a life devoted to the advancement of
the highest interest of mankind—to the elevation and enlightenment of the
poor, the lowly, and degraded—something that demands admiration, without
regard to the dividing lines of the sects.—_N. Y. Evening Post._

Its author eschews irrelevant controversy and unprofitable speculations,
and confines himself to the facts and incidents in the eventful life
of the great preacher, and to his views, sentiments, doctrines, and
herculean labors. It is a work which not only Methodists will desire to
read, but which will be eagerly sought for by all who can appreciate and
admire the self-sacrifice and unswerving devotion of one of the most
earnest, fearless, and successful defenders of the faith whose name has
passed into modern history.—_Albany Evening Journal._

For those who wish to know every fact that can be known of Wesley’s life,
this biography will probably supersede all others.—_Athenæum_, London.

The preparation of this biography has evidently been a labor of love with
Mr. Tyerman, but he has to a commendable degree avoided the besetting sin
of biographers—excessive eulogy—and his work is such a record of Wesley’s
life as not only Methodists but the public at large will be willing to
accept without reservation. Few men have lived in modern times who have
better deserved attention at the hands of the historian than Wesley,
for the religious reform movement of which he was the head was the most
important that has ever taken place.—_Philadelphia Evening Telegraph._

Mr. Tyerman’s book is by for the most valuable life of Wesley.
Its thoroughness, frankness, fearlessness, simplicity; bold, yet
self-distrusting discrimination; its loving, yet not blind appreciation
of the subject; its patient, painstaking, one would think exhaustive,
collection of data and weighing of evidence; its gathering into a focus
all the scattered rays of information about Wesley and his work; all
this makes one profoundly grateful to Mr. Tyerman. The leading minds of
other denominations will welcome this as distinctly the best life of
Wesley ever issued; and Methodists will recognize the gracious wisdom
of Providence in setting Mr. Tyerman apart for this work.—_City Road
Magazine_, London.

Mr. Tyerman has compiled a biography that an examination of the first
volume convinces us is infinitely the best yet published, and that
promises to be accepted as the standard one. It is very circumstantial,
and very calmly and justly appreciative, the greatest care being
manifested to present the whole truth and to abstain from any thing
like mere eulogy of his subject. Many hitherto unpublished letters
of Wesley are given, and in other directions the work has unusual
interest.—_Philadelphia Inquirer._

Seventeen years of patient labor, the careful study of an immense mass
of unpublished original manuscript letters and documents, fidelity to
his subject, with an impartiality of judgment that is frequently seen in
his strictures upon Wesley’s language and actions, and an enthusiastic
love for the venerated man, are among the author’s qualifications for
his work. So far as possible he has followed the plan which has made Dr.
Hanna’s life of Thomas Chalmers a model of biography. Wesley, for the
most part, is here his own biographer. The author, with skill, and in a
lucid style, has arranged the facts and shaped the story, without regard
to the philosophy of it.... We have been fascinated over his interesting
pages, not only with his photographic views of his hero, but with his
equally faithful representations of Whitefield and the compeers of these
two great ministers of Christ.—_Christian Intelligencer_, N. Y.

An extremely able and interesting life of John Wesley. It is complete
and accurate, written in an agreeable style, full of those reminiscences
illustrative of slight traits of character which form the great charm
of a biography; a striking and faithful picture of a remarkable
man.—_English Independent._

The best biography of the great leader of modern active
Christianity.—_Freeman._

Mr. Tyerman, as his last, and we think his best biographer, has produced
a record highly honorable to his subject, fresh and lively in style,
copious in information, discriminating and candid in its tone, and worthy
of a first rank as a biographical history of early Methodism.—_Methodist
New Connexion Magazine._

The verdict of his numerous readers will be that he has admirably
succeeded; henceforth his production will be pre-eminently _the_ Life of
Wesley, and we question whether it will ever be superseded or rivaled
by any subsequent biography, certainly not for the amplitude of its
information or the impartiality or faithfulness with which facts are
given. So fully and vividly is the spiritual and moral condition of the
country during Wesley’s lifetime depicted in these pages, that the reader
finds the work a most excellent general religious history of the nation
for the period, and for this purpose it will have great value as a book
of reference.—_Methodist Quarterly_, London.

Mr. Tyerman especially deserves well of the general public, because his
Methodist reverence for the subject of his narrative does not induce him
to keep back or cover up any thing. An honest and thorough biography,
dealing with naked facts, and chiefly leaving the reader to his own
impressions, is a rare thing in religious history; but this, in the main,
Mr. Tyerman has given.—_Chicago Evening Journal._

Mr. Tyerman has earned a debt of gratitude from his readers by the
faithful, painstaking light which he throws on the man and his time,
and it may fairly be said that this, the fifth life of Wesley which has
been published, is the first which presents him to us both justly and
fully.—_Christian Register._

There are few biographies more minute, careful, and impartial than
“Tyerman’s Wesley.” There is no influence nor incident which in any
way had to do with the great preacher’s character and opinions that
Mr. Tyerman does not describe with faithful sincerity. The work is not
alone a life of Wesley—every relative and friend and disciple is given
such generous mention that it seems a perfect nest of biographies, and
it is at the same time a profuse and thorough history of the foundation
and first forty years of Methodism.... He is at no pains to hide John
Wesley’s faults and foibles: he gives us a definite picture of the man
exactly as he was.... There could not be a more accurate record of
Wesley’s noble life and unselfish labors, of his innumerable publications
and most important sermons. The literature of Methodism has no more
judicious and valuable work than this.—_N. Y. Tribune._

He is not an eulogist, but a biographer, and he gives us Wesley as he
lived, and hence his work is entitled to the high praise that is due to
impartiality. No one desires to read of an ideal Wesley, but to have the
real man reproduced, and Mr. Tyerman has reproduced his hero.—_Boston
Traveller._

There is a conscientious honesty in the portraiture of his hero which
wins our regard for the author too.—_Christian Standard._

We regard this as an invaluable contribution to Church history.... We
believe the author has given us a history worthy of confidence, as he has
certainly given it in a pleasing style.—_Methodist Protestant_, Baltimore.

The style is pleasant, easy, and intelligible.—_Boston Journal._

Mr. Tyerman’s work will henceforth be regarded as the standard life of
Wesley.—_Evangelical Magazine._

No novel can excel this work for sustained interest.—_Central Advocate._

This is the most complete, and will doubtless prove the most satisfactory
biography of Wesley yet written. It is the result of diligent research
and much painstaking, extending through twenty of the best years of a
man’s life. Mr. Tyerman, the biographer, has been living amid favorable
circumstances to do this, which has been to him a work of love. He writes
_con amore_, yet free from the blinding influence of prejudice. It is to
be expected that he would have his own predilections, and if he did not
have them his work would not be worthy of public notice; but the severest
criticism will fail, we think, to detect any miscoloring of essential
facts, however it may estimate personal opinion of the man or events in
his life.... The book is more than a valuable, almost indispensable,
accession to the literature of the Methodist Church; it is a part of the
theological treasures of the age.—_College Courant._

It deserves the praise, not only of being the fullest biography of
Wesley, but also of being eminently painstaking, veracious, and
trustworthy.—_Edinburgh Review._

It is full, fair, and written with an enthusiasm that the reader can
hardly help sharing, as he is brought by the force of the author into
close acquaintance with one of the remarkable religious leaders of the
world.... One can not arise from a perusal of this book without feeling
an increased admiration for the noble, courageous, patient saint; and
the devout reader will be moved with a heartfelt gratitude to God for
the life and example of such a man. The book should be read not only by
all Methodists, but by every one who is interested either in accounts of
moral heroism and greatness of soul, or who would trace the rise of a
great form of religious thought and its development through the magnetic
enthusiasm of a gifted and unselfish nature.—_Louisville Courier Journal._

The best way to make a biography interesting is to permit its hero, as
far as possible, to tell his own story. This plan has been adopted by Mr.
Tyerman with notable success, and has resulted in the production of a
work alike instructive and entertaining.—_Brooklyn Union._

... It is as interesting as a novel, and as refreshing as a kindling
sermon. To those who do not sympathize with Methodism, but who are
interested in the career and experience of an eminent religious genius
and reformer, the book presents strong attractions.—_Boston Globe._

PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK.

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