Chapter 4 - Georgia: Missionary Experience

On Tuesday, October 14, 1735, Wesley, then in the thirty-third year of his age, took boat for Gravesend, in order to embark for Georgia, under the sanction of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, in company with his brother Charles, Mr. Benjamin Ingham, of Queen's College, Oxford, and Mr. Charles Delamotte, son of a merchant in London. He says the end they had in view was not to avoid want (God having given them plenty of temporal blessings), nor to gain riches or honour, but singly this: to save their own souls, to live wholly to the glory of God. It is strange, but significant of the state of Wesley's mind at this time, that he does not here give prominence to—does not even mention—the purpose of being useful to the colonials in the new settlement of Georgia, or to the Indians beyond it.

They had on board with them as fellow-passengers twenty-six Moravians, who were also proceeding to Georgia. Wesley at once began to learn the German language in order to converse with them; and at the same time David Nitschman, Bishop of the Moravians, with two others, began to learn English. These were the initial stages of Wesley's association with a community that was destined to exert so great an influence on all his future career. On the first Sunday, the weather being fair and calm, service was held on deck, when Wesley preached extempore, and then administered the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper to half a dozen communicants.

Believing that denying themselves, even in the smallest instances, might by the blessing of God be helpful to them, Wesley and his three companions left off the use of flesh and wine, and confined themselves to vegetable food, chiefly rice and biscuit. The picture of the daily occupation of the little company is instructive. It is thus described by Wesley: 'We now began to be a little regular. Our common way of. living was this: from four in the morning till five, each of us used private prayer. From five to seven we read the Bible together, carefully comparing it (that we might not lean to our own understandings) with the writings of the earliest ages. At seven we breakfasted. At eight Were the public prayers. From nine to twelve I usually learned German, and Mr. Delamotte Greek. My brother writ sermons, and Mr. Ingham instructed the children. At twelve we met to give account to one another what we had done since our last meeting, and what we designed to do before our next. About one we dined. The time from dinner to four we spent in reading to those whom each of us had taken in Charge, or in speaking to them severally, as need required. At four were the evening prayers, when either the second lesson Was explained (as it always Was in the morning), or the children were catechised and instructed before the congregation. From five to six we again used private prayer. From six to seven I read in our cabin to two or three of the passengers (of whom were about eighty English on board)g and each of my brethren to a few more in theirs. At seven I joined with the Germans in their public service; while Mr. Ingham was reading between the decks to as many as desired to hear. At eight we met again, to exhort and instruct one another. Between nine and ten we went to bed, where neither the roaring of the sea nor the motion of the ship could take away the refreshing sleep which God gave us.'

The vessel was detained at Cowes for a short time. While they were walking on shore the following resolutions were drawn up and signed:

‘In the name of God, Amen! We, whose names are underwritten, being fully convinced that it is impossible, either to promote the work of God among. The heathen, without an entire union among ourselves, Or that such a 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;— secondly, that whenever our judgments differ, any one shall give up his single judgment or inclination to the others ;— thirdly, that in case of an equality, after begging God’s direction, the matter shall be decided by lot.

John Wesley

Charles Wesley

Benjamin Ingham

Charles Delamotte

When they were in the Bay of the Biscay a storm arose, the sea breaking over the ship from stem to stern. Wesley says, ‘About eleven I lay down in the great cabin, and in the short time fell asleep, though very uncertain whether I should wake alive, and much ashamed of my unwillingness to die.’ Having been much impressed with the seriousness of the German passengers, their humility in performing servile offices for others, their meekness, which no injury seemed able to move, and their patience under provocation, an opportunity was now afforded him of trying whether they were delivered from fear. He says, ‘In the midst of the Psalm wherewith their service began, the sea broke over, split the mainsail in pieces, covered the ship, and poured in between the decks as if the great deep had already swallowed us up. A terrible screaming began among the English. The Germans calmly sung on. I asked one of them afterwards, "I thank God, no." I asked, "But were not your women or children afraid?" He replied mildly, "No; our women and children are not afraid to die."’ This incident deeply impressed him, and it had an important bearing on his mind in after days.

On February 5, 1736, the Savannah River was reached, and on the following day the emigrants first set foot on American soil, on a small uninhabited island over against Tybee. They knelt on the ground and gave thanks for their safe arrival. On the following day Wesley sought advice respecting his conduct from Mr. Spangenberg, one of the German (Moravian) pastors, and one of the first to greet him on the shores of Georgia, who instantly probed him to the quick by inquiring, 'Have you the witness within yourself? Does the Spirit of God witness with your spirit that you are a child of God?' Surprised, he knew not what to answer. Wesley was out of his depth here. Again he was pressed, ‘Do you know Jesus Christ?' He paused, and said, 'I know He is the Saviour of the world.' 'True; but do you know He has saved you?' 'I hope He has died to save me.' Then, Wesley says, he only added, 'Do you know yourself?' I said, 'I do.' But he feared they were 'vain words.' His interest in this people deepened, and he took an early opportunity of pressing many questions upon Spangenberg respecting the Moravian Church.

Having taken up his lodgings with the Germans, he was enabled daily to observe their whole behaviour. Slowly and silently, and all unconsciously, were these humble people helping to prepare the docile learner for his future great work. The simplicity and solemnity of an election and ordination of a bishop of the German Church made him forget, he says, the seventeen hundred years between, and to imagine himself in 'one of those assemblies where form and state were not; but Paul the tent-maker, or Peter the fisherman, presided; yet with the demonstration of the Spirit and of power.'

On Sunday, March 7, Wesley entered upon his ministry at Savannah, his brother and their companion Ingham having removed to Frederica, while Delamotte remained at Savannah. They at once began to try whether life might not be as well sustained by one sort as by a variety of food. They made the experiment with bread, and said they were never more vigorous and healthy than while they tasted nothing else. Not finding any door open as yet for pursuing their main design of preaching to the Indians, but keeping this always in view, they considered how they Could be most useful to the little flock at Savannah, as the minister of the town, Mr. Quincy, had removed to Carolina.

Receiving letters from Frederica urging him to go there, he and Delamotte embarked on a 'pettiawga,' a sort of flat-bottomed boat. On the way, they anchored near Skidoway island. Wesley had lain down to sleep, wrapped from head to foot in a large cloak. Between one and two o'clock he awoke under water, having rolled out of the boat, but so fast asleep that he did not find out where he was until his mouth was full of water. But for his awaking he must have been drowned. However, he swam to the boat, and escaped with nothing more serious than the wetting of his clothes. He found his brother exceedingly weak and ill. Having adjusted matters at Frederica to the best of his ability, he returned to Savannah. He at once gave notice of his design to administer the Holy Communion every Sunday,' according to the rules of our Church.' Adhering to the rubric, he baptized by immersion, save where the parents affirmed the child to be weak. Being asked to baptize the child of one of the bailiffs of Savannah, the parents refusing either to declare the child weak or to submit to its being dipped, he retired, leaving the child to be baptized by another. He divided the public prayers ' according to the original appointment of the Church.' The morning service began at five; the communion service with sermon at eleven; the evening service about three. 'The parishioners were visited in order from house to house, from twelve to three o’clock the hours when they were most at liberty, being then unable to work because of the heat of the day. The more serious members of the congregation were advised to form themselves into a sort of little society, and to meet once or twice a week in order to improve, instruct, and exhort one another; to select out of these a smaller number for a more intimate union with each other, which might be forwarded partly by his conversing singly with each, and partly by his gathering them all together at his own house. These methods are evidently borrowed from, his. Moravian neighbours and anticipate the class and band meetings of Methodism at a subsequent period.

Bolzius, the Salzburger pastor, says, 'At present, prayers are daily held at Savannah morning and evening in the church, and every Wednesday Mr. Wesley either preaches a sermon or catechises the children. It is said that he takes his office most seriously to heart, but also has his share of trials about it .... Mr. Wesley is not a little troubled and discouraged at the refractoriness of his hearers, though he takes great pains to bring about their conversion by means of an exposition of God's word that is certainly thorough and edifying.' This was the good pastor Bolzius, whom Wesley refused to admit to the Lord's Supper because he had not been episcopally ordained.

Pastor Gronau writes, 'Mr. Wesley is in sympathy with the good that he has learned of our community, and would wish to accomplish more than he sees done at Savannah. When he heard us tell recently of the house-to-house visitation that we had established, and of the Divine blessing and awakening that attended it, both for Pastors and people, he was glad, but lamented lack of. success hitherto among his own hearers. He brought forward several reasons why the people at Savannah became no better obedient to the Gospel of Christ. Of these, one was the ridicule and persecution which those had to suffer who showed a change of heart, But I had to tell him from experience that God was leading souls at our place by the same old way, "all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution" even if it was not so manifest.... He frequently sings German hymns, and commended the advantage our Church has over others in the possession of such a rich hymnology.'

Wesley had not yet learned to wield the true power of the Gospel, as will clearly be seen, if the following may be taken as an accurate description of his teaching at the time:

'We have before us a number of unpublished sermons written by Wesley at Oxford, during the ten years which followed his ordination .... In not one of them is there any view whatever, any glimpse, afforded of Christ in any of his offices. His name occurs in the benediction. That is about all. Frequent communion is insisted on as a source of spiritual quickening; regeneration by baptism is assumed as the true doctrine of the Church; but Christ is nowhere, either in His life, His death, or His intercession. Church formalism and strict morality, ceremonies and ethics, are all in all.'

Charles Wesley spent nine weeks at Frederica, the whole of which time was marked by heroic toil and endurance, by much mental suffering through unkind treatment, and by much bodily pain. Daily from morn till eve he laboured to promote the welfare of his little flock, both by private admonition and by public services-four of which he held daily, usually in the open air, giving an extemporary exposition of the daily lessons at morning and evening prayer. Every hour that could be spared from his secretarial duties was thus engrossed. Those duties did not sit lightly upon him. At the end of the first week he writes,' I was wholly spent in writing letters for Mr. Oglethorpe. I would not spend six days more in the same manner for all Georgia.' But his labours brought little success. He was rigorous in his adhesion to ecclesiastical order; he baptized the children by trine immersion, and preached with boldness on singleness of intention. He exposed the vices of the people with an unsparing hand; but he brought them no release from these evils. The gospel salvation for sinners he had not yet learnt for himself, and therefore 'could not preach it. 'Several of his Frederica sermons are extant. The doctrines are those of William Law. The pleasures of this world are all vain and sinful, and therefore to be renounced; the evils of our nature render us unfit for the service of God, and are to be mortified by fasting, prayer, and a constant course of universal self-denial; we are the creatures of God, and are therefore to devote ourselves to Him in body, soul and spirit, with the utmost fervour, simplicity, and purity of intention. But we look in vain for correct views of the atonement and intercession of Christ, and of the offices of the Holy Spirit. No satisfactory answer is given to the question, What must I do to be saved? Men are required to run the race of Christian holiness with a load of guilt upon their consciences, and with the corruption of their nature unsubdued by renewing grace. He has no just conception of a sinner's justification before God. He never represents it as consisting in the full and unmerited forgiveness of all past sins, obtained not by works of righteousness, but by the simple exercise of faith in a penitent state of heart; and immediately followed by the gift of the Holy Ghost, producing peace of conscience, the filial spirit, power over sin, and the joyous hope of eternal life. He satisfies himself with reproving the vices and sins of the people with unsparing severity, and with holding up the standard of practical holiness, denouncing the Divine vengeance against all who fall short of it; but with out directing them to the only means by which they could obtain forgiveness and a new heart.'

But other circumstances hindered him, The people were unsettled, being in constant alarm from the Spaniards. His faithful reproofs stirred up antagonism, which speedily ripened into revenge amongst those of lax morality. Plots were formed against him, and even shots were fired at him from the woods. Idle tales were reported to the all too susceptible Governor, who unhappily credited them, leading him to a course of harsh ill-treatment and many indignities. 'Mr. O. gave away my bedstead from under me, and refused to spare one of the carpenters to mend me up another.' Lacking at times even the necessaries of life, suffering from fever and dysentery, he was even denied every means of comfort and relief, save that he changed his usual bed, the floor, for the top of a chest. In consequence of his growing weakness, the poor sufferer was brought near to death, which he seemed almost to covet. My brother,' he says, 'brought me off a resolution, which honour and indignation had formed, of starving rather than ask for necessaries ..... At night, when my fever was somewhat abated, I was led out to bury the scout boatman, and envied him his quiet grave.' Of a sensitive disposition, he passed through an agony of mental and physical suffering.

He had spent little more than a fortnight in Frederica when his heart failed within him. In writing to. his brother he says, 'Stay till you are in disgrace, in persecution, by the heathen, by your own countrymen; till you are at. counted the offscouring of all things (as you must infallibly be, if God is true) and then see who will/allow you.

He was in his novitiate; he was being trained for higher work, The disappointment that revealed the error of his present methods was part of a preparation for a firm obedience unto the faith, when it should be revealed to him. He was not favoured, like his brother, with the daily fellowship of the cheerful and happy Moravians, who, for the present, were the chosen instruments for opening the eyes of these noble young men, and for leading them into the light and liberty of the Gospel He had not' progressed equally in spiritual knowledge with his brother, nor was he pressing after it with the same' steady eagerness. He had not equal self-control; nor, with his peculiar susceptibility to depression, aggravated by his weak physical condition, had he equal comfort in his work.

At length the duties of his secretariat brought him to Savannah, Leaving Frederica, he says, 'I was overjoyed at my deliverance out of this furnace, and not a little ashamed of myself for being so.' He remained at 'Savannah nine weeks, taking charge, while his brother was at Frederica.

Having to return to England as the bearer of despatches from the Governor to the trustees of the colonies, he embarked on August 11, intending to return not as a secretary, which office he resigned, but as a missionary. This purpose, however, was frustrated.

Both Wesley and Ingham desiring to be missioners to the Indians, and not chaplains to English colonists, Ingham arranged to spend three days in each week in learning the Indian language from a half-caste woman; and on the other three to teach what he had learned to Wesley and to Nitsehman, the Moravian bishop. They also arranged to Supply in turns Charles's place at Frederica.

'Wesley was now in hopes that a door was opened for going up immediately to the Choctaws, "the least polished, i.e. the least corrupted, of all the Indian nations." But upon his informing the General of this design, the latter objected, not only the danger of being intercepted or killed by the French there, but much more, the inexpediency of leaving Savannah destitute of a minister. These objections he related to his friends in the evening, with his characteristic desire to be led rather than to lead; and they were all of opinion "that they ought not to go yet."'

As affecting his ecclesiastical views, it may be mentioned here that, by reading over with Mr. Delamotte Bishop Beveridge's Pandectae Canonum Conciliorum, he had been effectually convinced that both particular and General Councils may err, and have erred; and of the infinite distance there is between the decisions of the wisest men, and those of the Holy Ghost recorded in the Word.

About the close of November Oglethorpe sailed for England, leaving Wesley, Delamotte, and Ingham at Savannah, 'but, says Wesley, 'with less prospect of preaching to the Indians than we had the first day we set foot in America.' Whenever he had mentioned the matter, the reply was, 'You cannot leave Savannah without a minister.' To this he answered, ' I know not that I am under any obligation to the contrary. I never promised to stay here one month. I openly declared both before, at, and ever since my coming hither, that I neither would nor could take charge of the English any longer than till I could go among the Indians.' If it was said, 'But did not the trustees of Savannah appoint you to be, minister of Savannah?' he replied, 'They did; but it was not done by my solicitation: it was done without either my desire or knowledge; therefore I cannot conceive that appointment to lay me under any obligation of continuing there, any longer than till a door is opened to the heathen; and this I expressly declared at the time I consented to accept of that appointment.' However, at the importunate request of the more serious parishioners, he consented to remain till some one came who might supply his place.

Gronau, one of the Saltzburger pastors, writing to a friend, says, 'Here in our Indies the prospect of the conversion of the heathen is still very poor, and one would almost despair of it if we had not the clear and plain promises of it in the Holy Scriptures. . . . It is plain that the hindrances placed in the way of the conversion of the heathen by Christians must first be removed.'

Early in the new year, he and; Delamotte came again to Fredefica, only to find things, as they expected, cold and heartless; there was not one who retained his first love. So, having beaten the air, in this unhappy place, for twenty days, Wesley took his final leave of it on January 26, not, he declared, from any apprehension of danger to himself, though his life had been threatened many times, but from an utter despair of doing good there. He had already described the condition of the place, as 'a city that is divided against itself. Where there is no brotherly love, no meekness, no forbearing, or forgiving one another; but envy, malice, revenge; suspicion, anger, clamour, bitterness, evil-speaking, without end! '

A dispute having arisen at this time between the gentlemen of Carolina and those Of Georgia respecting the right of trading with the Indians, Wesley, who had hitherto confined his attention to matters immediately relating to his ministry, was convinced that a case might arise in which part of his time ought to be employed in other matters. Such a case he thought this to be. He therefore gave himself to the consideration of it, concluding that the question must come to this short issue at last, (1) Are the Creeks, Cherokees, and Chicashaws within the bounds of Georgia, or no? (2) Is an Act of the King in Council, in Pursuance of an Act of Parliament, of any force within these bounds or not? The former of these the Georgian Charter determines; the latter was not questioned by any but the interested parties in Carolina.' He therefore concluded that 'nothing could justify the Sending unlicensed traders to these Indians, but the proving either that the Act is of no force, or that those Indians are not in Georgia.'

On March 4, Wesley wrote to the trustees giving an account of the years 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 himself to ?44 4s. 4d., a full proof of the self-denial practised by these good men. He had formed a resolution not to accept of the ?5o a year sent by the Society for his maintenance, saying his Fellowship was Sufficient for him. His brother Samuel expostulated with[him, showing him that, by refusing it, he might injure those who should come after him; and that, if he did not want it for himself, he might give it away in such manner as he thought proper. He at length yielded in this matter to the solicitations of the Society and the advice of his friends?

Wesley's ideas of religion, at this period, may be gathered from the following extracts from a letter, dated Savannah, March 28, 1757, and addressed to William Wogan, Esq., in Spring Gardens, London.

'I entirely agree with you, that religion is love, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost; that, as it is the happiest, so it is the cheerfulest thing in the world; that it is utterly inconsistent with moroseness, sourness, severity, and indeed with whatever is not according to the softness, sweetness, and gentleness of Christ Jesus. I believe it is equally Contrary to all preciseness, stiffness, affectation, and unnecessary singularity. I allow, too, that prudence, as well as zeal, is of the utmost importance in the Christian bib, But I do not yet see any possible case wherein conversation can be an instance of it. In the following scriptures I take all such to be flatly forbidden: Matt. xii. 36; Eph. v. 4, and iv. 29; Col. iv. 6.

'That I shall be laughed at for this, I know; so was my Master. I am not for a stern, austere manner of conversing. No: let all the cheerfulness of faith be there, all the joyfulness of hope, all the amiable sweetness—the winning easiness of love. If we must have art, ', Hic mihi erunt artes."'

Similar sentiments are expressed in another letter, written about the same time :-

'You seem to apprehend that I believe religion to be inconsistent with cheerfulness, and with a social friendly temper. So far from it, that I am convinced, as true religion cannot be without cheerfulness, so steady cheerfulness cannot be without true religion. I am equally convinced that religion has nothing sour, austere, unsociable, unfriendly in it; but, on the contrary, implies the most winning sweetness, the most amiable softness and gentleness. Are you for having as much cheerfulness as you can? So am I. Do you endearour to keep alive your taste for all the truly innocent pleasures of life? So do I. Do you refuse no pleasure but what is a hindrance to some greater good, or has a tendency to some evil? It is my very rule. In particular, I pursue this rule in eating, which I seldom do without much pleasure. I know it is the will of God, that I should enjoy every pleasure that leads to my taking pleasure in Him, and in such a measure as most leads to it. We are to do nothing but what, directly or indirectly, leads to our holiness; and to do every such thing with this design, and in such a measure as may most promote it.'

In April of this year, Wesley began to learn the Spanish language, in order to converse with a number of Jews who were amongst his parishioners. This proved of subsequent service to him; riot was it without benefit to others, for before he left Georgia he translated the exceedingly beautiful hymn ' O God, my God, my All Thou art,' which he inserted in his first hymn-book, printed in Charlestown in the following year. The hymn was frequently reprinted in his various collections of hymns.

Both Wesley and Delamotte did duty as schoolmasters. The following incident is related of them in this connection: 'Some of the boys in Delamotte's school wore stockings and shoes, and the others not. The former ridiculed the latter. Delamotte tried to put a stop to this uncourteous banter, but told Wesley he had failed, Wesley replied, "I think I can cure it. If you will take charge of my school next week, I will take charge of yours, and will try." The exchange was made, and on Monday morning Wesley went into school barefoot. The children seemed surprised, but without any reference to past jeerings Wesley kept them at their work. Before the week was ended, the shoeless ones began to gather courage; and some of the others, seeing their minister and master come without shoes and stockings, began to copy his example, and thus the evil was effectually cured.'

The Gentleman's Magazine is responsible for the following story: 'A wicked woman, whom he had offended, decoyed him into her house, threw him down, and, with her scissors, cut off from one side of his head the whole of those long locks of auburn hair, which he had been accustomed to keep in the most perfect order. After this, he preached at Savannah with his hair long on one side and short on the other, those sitting on the side which had been cut observing, "What a cropped head of hair the young parson has."' This has not the least ring of truth in it.

Soon after his arrival in the colony, Wesley had become acquainted With Miss Sophia Christina Hopkey, niece to Mr. Causton, chief magistrate of Savannah, a young lady, beautiful in appearance, of attractive manners, and withal intelligent and cultivated. He soon began to entertain an interest in her that ripened into some measure of affection, which seems to have been reciprocated, though on her part, perhaps, not very fervently. She appeared before Wesley as a religious inquirer, seeking his guidance; she also became his pupil, desiring him to assist her in her French studies. She consulted Oglethorpe as to the kind of dress most likely to please Wesley, and, putting aside her finery, appeared always in neat and simple white attire. It has been thought that Oglethorpe desired, if possible, to bring about a marriage with a view to secure Wesley to the colony.

After Charles had left Frederica in the latter end of July, Wesley frequently visited that Place, where he met with the most violent Opposition and abuse. He visited it from time to time until October 16, when he received a melancholy account of the state of things there. The public service had been discontinued, and from that time everything had grown worse. He wrote,' Even poor Miss Sophy, who for some time had been living there, was scarce the shadow of what she was when I left her. I endeavoured to convince her of it, but in vain; and, to put it effectually out of my power to do, she was resolved to return to England immediately.' After several ineffectual attempts, he at length prevailed. 'Nor was it long,' he says, 'before she recovered the ground she had lost.' Being slighted on one occasion by Oglethorpe, he mentioned the circumstance to her, and she said, 'Sir, you encouraged me in my greatest trials; be not discouraged yourself. Fear nothing; if Mr. Oglethorpe will not, God will help you.' He then took boat for Savannah with Miss Sophy, and arrived after a slow and dangerous, ' but not a tedious,' passage—six days for a hundred miles. He writes, 'In the beginning of December, I advised Miss Sophy to sup earlier, and not immediately before she went to bed. She did so, and on this little circumstance what an inconceivable train of consequences depend! Not only "all the colour of remaining life" for her; but perhaps all my happiness too.' The meaning of this is not obvious, unless in this tête-à-tête he made a declaration of affection. She also nursed him in an illness of some days' duration. Moore says, 'Those who have known Mr. Wesley will forestall our judgment here. They well know what impression all this was likely to make. He was indeed—-

"... Of a constant, loving, noble nature;

That thinks men honest, if they seem but so."

How, then, must this appearance of strong affection, from a woman of sense and elegance, nay, and as it should seem, of piety too, affect him! Especially considering (it is his own account) that he had never before familiarly conversed with any woman except his near relations.' Many passages in the journals show the deep interest which Wesley took in the welfare of this young lady.

There is a difference of opinion here on the part of two of Wesley's earliest biographers, Whitehead and Moore, both of them personally acquainted with Wesley. Whitehead, who had access to Wesley's private Journal, says that, from a perusal of that document, it appears to him that Wesley did intend marriage, and that he was not a little pained when the intercourse was broken off. Moore, on the other hand, commenting on these words, says, 'I know that she ultimately broke it off, but I also know that he did not at any time determine on marriage. I had the whole account from himself, and I do not know that he ever told it to any other person.'

That Wesley was impressed, perhaps fascinated, by this young lady can hardly admit of question. But that he ever directly proposed marriage to her is highly improbable; with Moore's words in view, it may be safely affirmed that he did not. Nevertheless, that he contemplated marriage as an ultimate possibility can as little be denied without casting a slur upon his honour. He may have prudently waited, as any sane man would; We know from a manuscript recently made public that he 'kist' her, perhaps with a declaration of love, and that he drew lots whether he should continue, or postpone, or discontinue his attentions.

On March 4, he writes, 'From directions I received' from God this day touching an affair of the greatest importance, I could not but observe, as I have done many times, the entire mistake of those who assert, "God will not answer your prayer, unless your heart be wholly resigned to His will." My heart was not wholly resigned to His will. Therefore, not daring to depend on my own judgment, I cried the more earnestly to Him to supply what was lacking in me. And I know and am assured He heard my voice, and did send forth His light and His truth.' This probably refers to the casting of lots. Whitehead thinks that on this day the affair was finally broken off. Or it may have referred to the following, related by Moore: 'Mr. Delamotte had not learned (to use a common expression of Mr. Wesley's) to "defy suspicion." He thought he saw—semblance of worth, not substance. He therefore embraced an opportunity of expostulating with Mr. Wesley; and asked him if he designed to marry Miss Sophy? At the same time he set forth, in a strong light, her art and his simplicity. Though pleased with the attentions of his fair friend, Mr. Wesley had not allowed himself to determine upon marriage. Mr. Delamotte's question therefore not a little puzzled him. He waived an answer at that time; and, perceiving the prejudice of Mr. Delamotte's mind against the lady, he called on Bishop Nitschman and consulted him. "Marriage," said he, "you know is not unlawful. Whether it is now expedient for you, and whether this lady is a proper wife for you, ought to be maturely weighed." Finding his perplexity increase, he determined to propose his doubts to the elders of the Moravian Church. When he entered the house where they were met together, he found Mr. Delamotte sitting among them. On his proposing the business, the Bishop replied, "We have con. sidered your ease. Will you abide by our decision?" He answered, after some hesitation, "I will." "Then," said the Bishop, - we advise you to proceed no further in this business." He replied, "The will of the Lord be done." From this time he behaved with the greatest caution towards her, and avoided everything that tended to continue the intimacy, though he easily perceived what pain this change in his conduct gave her, as it did also to himself.'

The above illustrates Wesley's extreme diffidence, and his willingness to be led by the opinions of others, as often exhibited in his subsequent life It also shows what a powerful influence the Morayians had already begun to exercise upon him. It need hardly be added, that there is not file slightest shadow of a suspicion of his perfectly honourable and upright conduct in the whole affair. Three days after the incident just related, he wrote' in his private Journal,' March 7.—When I walked with Mr. Causton, to his country lot, I plainly felt that had God given me such a retirement' with the companion I desired, I should have forgot the work for which I Was born, and have set up my rest in this world.' However, the affair was quickly ended, for he writes the next day: 'March 8.—Miss Sophy engaged herself to Mr. Williamson, and on Saturday, 12th, they were married at Purrysburgh; this being the day which completed the year from my first speaking to her. What Thou doest, O God, I know not now; but I shall know hereafter.'

Writing to one of his preachers, Mr. S. Bardsley, in 1786, fifty years after the occurrence,' he says, I remember when I read these words in the church at Savannah, "Son of man, behold, I take from thee the desire of thine eyes with a stroke," I was pierced through as with a sword, and could not utter a word more. But our comfort is, He that made the heart can heal the heart.'

Whether the lady's patience was exhausted by' Mr. Wesley's slow procedure in the business—for it does not appear that he was in any haste to finish it- or whether she declined entering into the matrimonial state with him on account of his abstemious and rigid manner of life, is uncertain; but whatever was the cause, it is evident from his own words thats he felt a disappointment when she married Mr. Williamson. It seems that he expressed this more fullyin a letter to his brother Samuel, who tells him' in his answer, 'I am Sorry you are disappointed in one match, because you are very unlikely' to find' another,'

It was not long, however, before he saw that he had sufficient cause to be thankful that he had not been permitted' to choose for himself. He had frequent occasions for discovering that Mrs. Williamson was riot that religious character he had supposed. Three months after her marriage he writes, ' God has showed’ me yet more of the greatness of my deliverance, by opening to me a new and 'unexpected scene of Miss Sophys dissimulation. Oh, never give me over to my own hearts desires; nor let me follow my own imaginations.'

Wesley was thus happily rescued from what could not have been a happy marriage; and he was also rescued from the limitations of a parish life in a small colony. He was predestined to a greater work, which marriage in that distant land must have prevented. Had he found his sphere there, the great Methodist revival had not been!

As may be supposed, he did not in such a country escape outward perils and sufferings. In one of his journeys on foot with Mr. Delamotte and a guide, after walking two or three hours, the guide told them he did not know where they were. In an hour or two more they came to a cypress swamp, which lay directly across their way. It was too far to turn back; they therefore walked through it, the water being breast high. By the time they had gone a mile further they were out of all Path, and it being now past sunset, they sat down, intending to make a fire, and to stay till morning; but they found their tinder wet. Wesley advised to walk on, but his companions were faint and weary, so they lay down about six o'clock The ground was as wet as their clothes, which, there being a sharp frost, were soon frozen together. 'However,' Wesley says, 'I slept till morning. There fell a heavy dew in the night which covered us as white as snow.' Within an hour after sunrise they came to a plantation, and in the evening, without any hurt, to Savannah. A few days afterwards they crossed a river in a small canoe, their horses swimming by the side of it. They made a fire on the bank, and, notwithstanding the rain, slept quietly till the morning.

But trials of another nature awaited him. Wesley was a 'High Churchman,' and carried out his principles with rigorous exactness. Besides some particulars already mentioned, he required all intending communicants to notify the same to him, according to the rubric; the Sacrament he refused to all who had not been episcopally confirmed; he rebaptized the children of Dissenters, and refused to bury any who had not received episcopal baptism. Not without reason, he has been described as an intolerant, High-Church ritualist. This he himself acknowledged some years afterwards, when, inserting in his Journal a letter he had received from the Rev. John Martin Bolzius (already referred to), a minister at Ebenezer, in Georgia, he adds, 'What a truly Christian piety and simplicity breathe in these lines l And yet this very man, when I was at Savannah, did I refuse to admit to the Lord's Table, because he was not baptized; that is, not baptized by a minister who had been episcopally ordained. Can any one carry High Church zeal higher than this? And how well have I been since beaten with mine own staff.'

He continued his pastoral attentions to Mrs. Williamson as one of his parishioners. This aggrieved her husband, who soon after their marriage forbade her to attend Wesley's services, or to speak to him again. She, however, appeared some four months after at a Sacramental service, after which Wesley took occasion to admonish her of conduct which he judged to be reprehensible. In a month's time she appeared again, when Wesley denied her the Sacrament, as she had neither expressed her regret for her faults, nor promised amendment. This was an act of discipline which he had carried out in other cases. On the following day a warrant was issued for his apprehension, to answer the complaint of William Williamson for defaming his wife and refusing to her the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, without cause, and laying the damages at £1000.

Wesley was arrested and brought before the Bailiff and the Recorder. His answer to the charge was, that, the giving or refusing the Lord's Supper being a matter purely ecclesiastical, he could not acknowledge their power to interrogate him upon it. He was directed to appear at the next court, to be holden in Savannah. Bail being desired, the answer was, 'Mr. Wesley's word is sufficient.'

Two days after, Mr. Causton, who had hitherto shown a friendly regard for Wesley, called upon him and requested him to send to Mrs. Williamson in writing his reasons for repelling her from the Sacrament before the whole congregation. This Wesley did in the following terms :—

'To MRS. SOPHIA WILLIAMSON.

'At Mr. Causton's request, I write once more. The rules whereby I proceed are these:

'"So many as intend to be partakers of the Holy Communion shall signify their names to the curate, at least some time the day before." This you did not do.

'"And if any of these have done any wrong to his neighhours, by word or deed, so that the congregation be thereby offended, the curate shall advertise him, that in anywise he presume not to come to the Lord's Table until he hath openly declared himself to have truly repented."

'If you offer yourself at the Lord's Table on Sunday, I will advertise you (as I have done more than once) wherein you have done wrong. And when you have openly declared yourself to have truly repented, I will administer to you the mysteries of God.

'John Wesley.

'August 11, 1737.'

Mr. Causton after this exerted his influence against Wesley, seeking in every way to poison the minds of the people against him; while the rest of the family spread abroad the foolish report that Wesley had acted towards Mrs. Williamson, as he had done, purely out of revenge, because she would not marry him.

It may be thought that Wesley was injudicious, or that he was hard in the administration of discipline; that, instead of proceeding to extremities, he should have tried to persuade the lady to put herself in a right condition to receive the Sacrament. He was always hard where duty was concerned, and never feared the consequences of any act that duty enjoined. But it must be remembered :that her husband had forbidden her to speak to him, and that, in addition to reproving her, Wesley had written to her informing her of the particulars of conduct to which he objected. Wesley wrote, at the time :—

'I sat still at home, and I thank God easy, having cornmited my cause to Him; and remembering His word, "Blessed is the man that endureth temptation; for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown Of life; which the Lord hath promised to them that love Him." I was at first afraid that those who were weak in the faith would be turned out of the way, at least so far as to neglect the public worship, by attending which they were likely to suffer in their temporal concerns. But I feared where no fear was. God took care of this likewise; insomuch that on Sunday the 14th, more were present at the morning prayers, than had been for some months before.'

A grand jury was called, and forty-four jurors were sworn in, instead of fifteen. Of these, one did not understand English, one was a Papist, one a professed infidel, three were Baptists, sixteen or seventeen others Dissenters, and several others had personal quarrels with him, and had openly avowed vengeance.

A list of grievances was presented, but altered by the grand jury to ten counts. Some days were spent in examining these; and on September 1 a majority of the jury agreed to the following indictments :—

'1. That, after March 12 last, the said John Wesley did several times privately force his conversation on Sophia Christina Williamson, contrary to the express desire and command of her husband; and did likewise write and privately convey papers to her, thereby occasioning much uneasiness between her and her husband.

'2. That, on August 7 last, he refused the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper to Sophia Christina Williamson, without any apparent reason, much to the disquiet of her mind, and to the great disgrace and hurt of her character.

'3. That he hath not, since his arrival in Savannah, emitted any public declaration of his adherence to the principles and regulations of the Church of England.

'4. That, for many months past, he has divided on the Lord's day the order of morning prayer, appointed to be used in the Church of England, by only reading the said morning prayer and the litany at five or six o'clock, and wholly omitting the same between the hours of nine and eleven o'clock, the customary time of public morning prayer.

'5. That, about the month of April, 1736, he refused to baptize, otherwise than by dipping, the child of Henry Parker, unless the said Henry Parker and his wife would certify that the child was weak and not able to bear dipping; and added to his refusal, that, unless the said parents would consent to have it clipped, it might die a heathen.

'6. That, notwithstanding he administered the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper to William Gough, about the month of March, 1736, he did, within a month after, refuse the Sacramento to the said William Gough, saying that he had heard that William Cough was a Dissenter.

'7. That in June, 1736, he refused reading the Office of the Dead over the body of Nathaniel Polhill, only because Nathaniel Polhill was not of his opinion; by means of which refusal the said Nathaniel Polhill was interred without the appointed Office for the Burial of the Dead.

'8. That, on or about August 10, 1737, he, in the presence of Thomas Causton, presumptuously called himself "Ordinary of Sayann , assuming thereby an authority which did not belong to him.

'9. That in Whitsun-week last he refused William Aglionby to stand godfather to the child of Henry Marley, giving no other reason than that the said William Aglionby had not been at the Communion-table with him.

'10. That, about the month of July last, he baptized the child of Thomas Jones, having only one godfather and godmother, notwithstanding that Jacob Matthews did offer to stand godfather.'

Such were the findings of the majority of the grand jury. The minority of twelve, including three constables and six tithingmen, drew up and signed a document, and transmitted it 'to The Honourable the Trustees for Georgia,' prefacing the whole with the following:

'We, whose names are underwritten, being members of the said grand jury, do humbly beg leave to signify our dislike of the said presentments; being by many and divers circumstances thoroughly persuaded in ourselves that the whole charge against Mr, Wesley is an artifice of Mr. Causton, designed rather to blacken the character of Mr. Wesley, than to free the colony of religious tyranny, as he was pleased in his charge to us to term it. But as these circumstances will be too tedious to trouble your Honours with, we shall only beg leave to give the reasons of our dissent from the particular bills.
 

'1. That they were thoroughly persuaded that the charges against Mr. Wesley were an artifice of Mr. Causton's, designed rather to blacken the character of Mr. Wesley than to free the colony from religious tyranny, as he had alleged,

'2. That it did not appear that Mr. Wesley had either spoken in private or written to Mrs. Williamson since the day of her marriage, except one letter, which he wrote on July 5, at the request of her uncle, as a pastor, to exhort and reprove her.

'3. That, though he did refuse the Sacrament to Mrs. Williamson on August 7 last, he did not assume to himself any authority contrary to law, for every person intending to communicate was bound to signify his name to the curate, at least some time the day before; which Mrs. Williamson did not do; although Mr. Wesley had often, in full congregation, declared he did insist on a compliance with that rubric, and had before repelled divers persons for non-compliance therewith.

'4. That, though he had not in Savannah emitted any public declaration of his adherence to the principles and regulations of the Church of England, he had done tiffs, in a stronger manner than by a formal declaration, by explaining and defending the three Creeds, the Thirty-nine Articles, the whole Book of Common Prayer, and the homilies; besides a formal declaration is not required, but from those who have received institution and induction.'

'5. That though he had divided, on the Lord’s Day, the order of morning prayer, this was not contrary to any law in being.

'6. That his refusal to baptize Henry Parker's child, otherwise than by dipping, was justified by the rubric.

'7. That, though he had refused the Sacrament to William Cough, the said William Gough [one of the jurors who signed the document sent to the trustees] publicly declared, that the refusal was no grievance to him, because Mr. Wesley had given him reasons with which he was satisfied.

'8. That, in reference to the alleged refusal to read the Burial Service over the body of Nathaniel Polhill, they had good reason to believe that Mr. Wesley was at Frederica, or on his return thence, when Polhill was interred; besides, Polhill was an anabaptist, and desired, in his lifetime, that he might not be buried with the office of the Church of England,

'9. That they were in doubt about the indictment concerning Wesley calling himself" Ordinary of Savannah," not well knowing the meaning of the word.

'10. That, though Mr. Wesley refused to allow William Aglionby to stand godfather to the child of Henry Marley, and Jacob Matthews to stand godfather to the child of Thomas Jones, he was sufficiently justified by the canons of the Church, because neither Aglionby nor Matthews had certified Mr. Wesley that they had ever received the Holy Communion.'

The next day Wesley moved for an immediate hearing of the first count, being the only one of a civil nature. The court evaded the request. Six times did he make application for a hearing without avail.

In the midst of this storm, kept up by the arts of his avowed enemies, without a shilling: in his pocket, and three thousand miles from home, Wesley possessed his soul in peace, and continued to give himself to his work; adding a weekly visit to a number of French families, residing in a village five miles away, to whom every Saturday afternoon he read prayers; and the same to some Germans in another village; then by request to the French at Savannah on Sunday afternoons. So that during the remaining weeks of his stay in Savannah he had full employment for the holy day. The first English prayers lasted from five till half-past six. The Italian, for the benefit of a few Vaudois, began at nine. The second Service for the English, including sermon and Communion, was from half-past ten to half-past twelve, The French service began at one. At two he catechised the children. About three began English evening service; after which he had the happiness, he said, of joining with as many as his largest room would hold, in reading, praying, and singing praise. And about six the service of the Moravians began, at which he was glad to be present, not as a teacher, but as a learner. For, with all his High Church sentiments, he was not ashamed to sit at the feet of those who, he was aware, had an experimental knowledge of religion that went beyond his own attainments. He had even joined with them early in August at one of their love-feasts—probably the first time he had been present at such a service. He thus speaks of it: 'It was begun and ended with thanksgiving and prayer, and celebrated in so decent and solemn a manner, as a Christian of the Apostolic age would have allowed to be worthy of Christ.' In subsequent years the love-feast became a favourite and profitable service amongst the Methodists, and love-feasts are still held, though not so frequently as formerly.

In November he received a temporary relief from his pressing wants. He writes, 'Colonel Stephens arrived, by whom I received a benefaction of ten pounds sterling; after having been for several months without a shilling in the house, but not without peace, health, and contentment.'

Early in October he had consulted his friends whether God did not call him to return to England; seeing the reason for which he left it had now no force, there being no possibility as yet of instructing the Indians, neither had he as yet found or heard of any Indians on the continent of America who had the least desire of being instructed. And as to Savannah, having never engaged himself, either by word or letter, to stay there a day longer than he should judge convenient, nor ever taken charge of the people any otherwise, than as in his passage to the heathen, he looked upon himself as fully discharged from any obligation to remain longer. Besides, there seemed a probability of his doing more service to the people in the colony in England than in Georgia, inasmuch as he could represent without fear or favour to the trustees the real state the colony was in. After deeply considering these things, his friends were unanimous that he ought to go, but not yet. So he laid aside the thought of it for that present, being persuaded that when the time was come the way would be made plain before his face.

In the course of two months from that time it became evident to him that he had not the remotest prospect of obtaining justice in the courts, and that those in power were combined to oppress him, and could procure evidence (as had been seen) of words he had never spoken and of deeds he had never done, Being, moreover, disappointed of preaching the gospel to the heathen, he again consulted his friends, who now decided that he should at once depart. Accordingly, he put up the following advertisement in the great square:

‘Whereas John Wesley designs shortly to set out for England, this is to desire those who have borrowed any 'books of him, to return them as soon as they conveniently can to

'JOHN WESLEY.'

At once he desired money from the chief magistrate to pay his expenses to England, designing to set out immediately. The magistrate told him he should not go out of the province till he had entered into a recognizance to appear at the court, and answer the allegations laid against him. He replied that he had appeared at six courts successively, and had openly desired a trial, but was refused it. They required him to give security to appear again. He asked what security. They replied, a bond to appear at Savannah whenever required, under a penalty of £50, besides bail to answer Mr. Williamson’s action of £1000 damages. 'I then began,' says Wesley, 'to see into their design of spinning out time and doing nothing, and so plainly told the recorder, Sir, I will sign neither one bond, nor the other.'

After evening prayers, the tide serving, 'he left Savannah with three other persons, no one attempting to hinder him, notwithstanding an order requiring all officers to prevent his going out of the proving, mad forbidding any person to assist him to do so. It seems probable that the magistrates were really glad to get rid of him.

His own graphic story may be read in the Journal, from which the following is extracted:—

On December 2, as soon as evening prayers were over, about eight o'clock, the tide then serving, he says, 'I shook off the dust of my feet, and left Georgia, after having preached the gospel there, not as I ought, but as I was able, one year and nine months.' Early the next morning the little party-four in all reached Purrysburg, and, failing to find a guide, set out an hour before sunrise. After walking two or three hours, they met with an old man, who led them into a small path, near which was a line of 'blazed' trees (trees marked by cutting off part of the bark), and by following these he assured them they might come to Port Royal in five or six hours. About eleven they came to a large swamp, in which they wandered for three hours; then, finding another 'blaze,' they followed it till it divided into two. Following one of these through an almost impassable thicket, a mile beyond which it ended, they made through the thicket again, and traced the other 'blaze’ till that also ended. It was now towards sunset, so, faint and weary, they sat down, having had no food all day, except the third of a gingerbread cake, which Wesley had carried in his pocket. They divided another third, reserving the rest till the morning, but they had met with no water all day. One of the company, thrusting a stick into the ground, found the end of it moist, on which two of them fell to digging with their hands, and at about three feet depth found water. They thanked God, drank, and were refreshed, and after worship lay down close together and slept. The following morning they pursued their way, but as the woods grew thicker and thicker, they retraced their steps of the previous day. The day before, in the thickest part of the woods, Wesley, not knowing why, had broken many young trees as the little company walked along. These they now found helpful in guiding them through the thickest part of the wood, and between one and two they came to the house of the old man they left the day before. In the evening Wesley read prayers to a numerous French family, one of whom undertook on the following day to be their guide. They tramped from morning till sunset, when their guide confessed he knew not where they were. However, they pushed on until seven, when they came to a plantation, and the next evening, after many difficulties and delays, they landed on Port Royal Island.

On December 7, Wesley walked to Beaufort, and was joined the next day by Mr. Delamotte, with whom, on the day following, he took boat for Charlestown, which place, after a slow passage, by reason of contrary winds, and some conflict with hunger and cold, provisions falling short, he reached on the 13th. The following day he read prayers, by request, and was much refreshed, and likewise visited a dying man; and on the 16th he parted with Mr. Charles Delamotte, from whom he had been but a few days separated since October 14, 1735. On the 18th he was seized with a violent flux, but had strength to preach 'once more to this careless people, and a few believed our report.' On the 22^nd he took his leave of America,' though, if it please God, not for ever.'

Though suffering much on board, he applied himself to his work, beginning by instructing a negro lad in the principles of Christianity. He resolved to leave off 'living delicately,' and return to his old simplicity of diet, with the happy effect, that neither stomach nor head much complained of the motion of the ship.

Finding himself the victim of much fear of danger, though he knew not of what, he makes the following reflections: '1. That not one of these hours ought to pass out of my remembrance, till I attain another manner of spirit—a spirit equally willing to glorify God by life or by death. 2. That whoever is uneasy on any account (bodily pain alone excepted) carries in himself his own conviction that he is so far an unbeliever. Is he uneasy at the apprehension of death? Then he believeth not, that to die is gain. At any of the events of life? Then he hath not a firm belief, that all things work together for his good. And if he bring the matter more close, he will find, beside the general want of faith, every particular uneasiness is evidently owing to the want of some particular Christian temper.'

A few days later, being sorrowful and very heavy (though he could give no particular reason for it), and being also utterly unwilling to speak closely to any one on board, he feared this was the cause of his unaccountable heaviness, so began to instruct the cabin-boy. Several times during the following days he went with a design to speak to the sailors, but could not, and Wondered whether it were a prohibition from the good Spirit, or a temptation from the evil one.

During the voyage he finished his abridgment of the Life of Monsieur de Retry, on which he had been at work for some time. It was the first of a very large number of abridgments made and published by him, to which reference will afterwards be made. In this instance he reduced a volume of 358 pages to a pamphlet of 67. It was published in 1741, and passed through several editions.

He daily read and explained some passages of the Bible to the young negro, and to another of the company. Finding a young Frenchman who could converse with no one on board, he read and explained a chapter in the Testament also to him every morning.

He was still greatly exercised respecting his religious state, and in the fulness of his heart, he says, wrote these words:

'By the most infallible of proofs, inward feeling, I am convinced
 

‘1. Of unbelief; having no such faith in Christ as will prevent my heart being troubled; which it could not bed if I believed in God, and rightly believed also in Him.

‘2. Of pride, throughout my life past; inasmuch as I thought I had what I find I have not.

'3. Of gross irrecollection; inasmuch as in a storm I cry to God every moment, in a calm not.

'4. Of levity and luxuriancy of spirit; appearing by my speaking words not tending to edify, but most by my manner of speaking of my enemies.
 

'Lord, save, or I perish ! Save me—
 

'1. By such a faith as implies peace in life and in death.

'2. By such humility, as may fill my heart from this hour for ever, with a piercing uninterrupted sense, Nihil est quod hactenus feci [I have done nothing hitherto], having evidently built without a foundation.

'3. By such a recollection as may cry to thee every moment, especially when all is calm; give me faith or I die; give me a lowly spirit; otherwise Mihi non sit suave vivere [Let life be a burden to me].

'4. By steadiness, seriousness, semnoth", sobriety of spirit, avoiding as fire every word that tendeth not to edifying, and never speaking of any who opposes me, or sin against God, without all my sins set in array before my face.'

It is impossible to understand Wesley's spiritual condition, or his views on the critical questions of the spiritual life, without pondering these overflowings of his heart. How easy is it to discern in them the earnest craving of his soul for rest, and how obvious it is that the knowledge of the way of peace he had as yet not found.

For some days he reflected much, he tells us, on that vain desire, which had, pursued him for so many years of being in solitude, in order to be a Christian. 'I have now,' he adds, ' thought I, solitude enough; but am I, therefore, the nearer being a Christian? Not if Jesus Christ be the model of Christianity. I doubt, indeed, I am much nearer that mystery of Satan, which some writers affect to call by that name, So near, that I had probably sunk wholly into it, had not the great mercy of God just now thrown me upon reading St. Cyprian's works, 0 my soul, come not thou into their secret! Stand thou in the good old paths.'

The voyagers encountered a heavy storm. All were shut close down, the sea breaking over the ship continually. He says, at first he was afraid, but cried to God and was strengthened, and lay down without lean 'About midnight,' he adds, 'we were awakened by a confused noise of seas, and Wind, and men's voices, the like to which I had never heard before. The sound of the sea, breaking over and against the sides of the ship, I could compare to nothing but large cannon or American thunder. The rebounding, starting, quivering motion of the ship, much resembled what is said of earthquakes. The captain was upon deck in an instant, But his men could not hear what he said. It blew a proper hurricane; which, beginning at south-west, then went west, north-west, north, and in a quarter of an hour, round by the east to the south-west point again. At the same time the sea running (as they term it) mountain high, and that from many different points at once, the ship would not obey the helm; nor, indeed, could the steersman, through the violent rain, see the compass. So he was forced to let her run before the wind, and in half an hour the stress of the storm was over.

'About noon the next day it ceased. But first I had resolved, God being my helper, not only to preach to all, but to apply the Word of God to every single soul in the ship; and if but one, yea, if not one of them will hear, I know "my labour is not in vain." I no sooner executed this resolution, than my spirit revived; so that from this day I had no more of that fearfulness and heaviness, which before almost continually weighed me down. He had evidently been in a state of mind typified by that of the raging, tossing sea.

Some ten days afterwards he says, very impressively, 'My mind was now full of thought, part of which I writ down as follows:

'I went to America, to convert the Indians; but Oh I who shall convert me? Who, what is he that will deliver me from this evil heart of unbelief? I have a fair summer religion. I can talk well; nay, and believe myself, when no danger is near. But let death look me in the face, and my spirit is troubled. Nor can I say, "To die is gain."

"I have a sin of fears that when I’ve spun My last thread, I shall perish on the shore!"'

The following deserves careful consideration: 'I think, verily, if the gospel be true, I am safe; for I not only have given, and do give, all my goods to feed the poor; I not only give my body to be burned, drowned, or whatever God shall appoint for me; but I follow after charity (though not as I ought, yet as I can), if haply I may attain it. I now believe the gospel is true. I show my faith by my works, by staking my all upon it. I would do so again and again a thousand times, if the choice were still to make. Whoever sees me sees I would be a Christian. Therefore "are my ways not like other men's ways." Therefore I have been, I am, I am content to be, "a byword, a proverb of reproach."'

How pure I how simple! how ingenuous! Most truly, whoever saw him must have seen that he 'would be a Christian.' It was not only his one aim, his one desire; but it was his supreme object of pursuit-a pursuit that lacked neither fervour nor continuity. But was he not a Christian? Who could presume to think himself a Christian, if he could not Yet, while he believed the gospel was true, there was a truth in that gospel which he did not clearly discern at present, and therefore he could not believe it, or his joy would have been full. A child may be the son of a king, and not know it. But Wesley will see it in time, and will believe it; and it will be to him as life from the dead. He will know then, without reasoning, whether or not he is a partaker of the gospel salvation. He will know it by what he called, 'the most infallible of proofs inward feeling.'

We have, however, interrupted him. He had other thoughts. He goes on to say, 'But in a storm I think, "What if the gospel be not true?" Then thou art of all men most foolish. For what hast thou given thy goods, thy ease, thy friends, thy reputation, thy country, thy life? For what art thou wandering over the face of the earth? A dream, a cunningly devised fable? Oh, who will deliver me from this fear of death I What shall I do? Where shall I fly from it? Should I fight against it by thinking, or by not thinking of it? A wise man advised me some time since, "Be still, and go on," Perhaps this is best, to look upon it as my cross; when it comes, to let it humble me, and quicken all my good resolutions, especially that of praying without ceasing; and at other times to take no thought about it, but quietly to go on in the work of the Lord.'

But these were not his only reflections. He reviews the course of theological thought through which he has passed-his early theological 'career. He then closely considers his own personal spiritual state—his religious experience; and on these interesting subjects records his views in a private paper, before the voyage was ended. Next, he reflects on his work in Georgia, endeavouring to estimate the results of his missionary labour. His views on this subject he set down at a later period.

On the first of these topics he writes : —

'January 25 — For many years I have been tossed about by various winds of doctrine. I asked long ago, What must I do to be saved I The Scripture answered, Keep the Commandments, believe, hope, love. Follow after these tempers till thou hast fully attained, that is, till death; by all those outward works and means which God hath appointed; by walking as Christ walked. 2. I was early warned against laying, as the Papists do, too much stress on outward works, or on a faith without works; which, as it does not include, so it will never lead to true hope or charity: Nor am I sensible that, to this hour, I have laid too much stress on either. Having from the very beginning valued both faith and the means of grace, and good works, not on their own account, but, as believing God, who had appointed them, would by them bring me in due time to "the mind that was in Christ:' 3. But before God's time was come I fell among some Lutheran and Calvinist authors, who magnified faith to such an amazing size, that it hid all the rest of the commandments. I did not then see that this was the natural effect of their overgrown fear of Popery, being so terrified with the cry of merit and good. works, that they plunged at once into the other extreme. In this labyrinth I was utterly lost, not being able to find out what the error was, nor yet to reconcile this uncouth hypothesis, either with Scripture or common sense. 4. The English writers, such as Bishop Beveridge, Bishop Taylor, and Mr. Nelson, a little relieved me from these well-meaning, wrong-headed Germans. Their accounts of Christianity, I could easily see to be, in the main, consistent both with reason and Scripture. Only When they interpreted Scripture in different ways, I was often much at a loss. And again there was one thing much insisted on in Scripture — the unity of the Church, which none of them, I thought, clearly explained. 5. But it was not long before Providence brought me to those who showed me a sure rule of interpreting Scripture; viz. Consensus veterum: Quod ab omnibus, quod ubigue, quod semper creditum. At the same time they sufficiently insisted upon a due regard to the one Church at all times and in all places. Nor was it long before I bent the bow too far the other way: (1) By making antiquity a co-ordinate rather than subordinate rule with Scripture. (2) By admitting several doubtful writings, as undoubted evidences of antiquity. (3) By extending antiquity too far, even to the middle or end of the fourth century. (4) By believing more practices to have been universal in the ancient Church than ever were so. (5) By not considering that the most of those decrees of a provincial synod could bind only that province, and the decrees of a general synod only those provinces whose representatives met therein. (6) By not considering that the most of those decrees were adapted to particular times and occasions, and, consequently, when those occasions ceased, must cease to bind oven those provinces.

'6. These considerations insensibly stole upon me as I grew acquainted with the Mystic writers, whose noble descriptions of union with God and internal religion made everything else appear mean, flat, and insipid. But in truth they made good works appear so too; yea, and faith itself, and what not? These gave me an entire new view of religion, nothing like any I had before. But alas! It was nothing like that religion which Christ and His Apostles lived and taught. I had a plenary dispensation from all the commands of God. The form was thus: Love is all; all the commands beside are only means of love — you must choose those which you feel are means to you, and use them as long as they are so. Thus were all the bands burst at once. And though I could never fully come into this, nor contentedly omit what God enjoined, yet, I know not how, I fluctuated between obedience and disobedience. I had no heart, no vigour, no zeal in obeying; continually doubting whether I was right or wrong, and never out of perplexities and entanglements. Nor can I at this hour give a distinct account, how, or when, I came a little back toward the right way; only my present sense is this—all the other enemies of Christianity are triflers. The Mystics are the most dangerous of its enemies. They stab it in the vitals, and its most serious professors are most likely to fall by them. May I praise Him who hath snatched me out of this fire likewise, by warning all others, that it is set on fire of hell.'

He afterwards acknowledged that the censure here passed upon the Mystics is too severe.

'It is now,' he said, 'two years and almost four months since I left my native country, in order to teach the Georgian Indians the nature of Christianity. But what have I learnt myself meantime? Why (what I the least of all suspected), that I, who went to America to convert others, was never myself converted to God. I am not mad, though I thus speak, but I speak the words of truth and soberness : if haply some of those who still dream may awake, and see that as I am, so are they. Are they read in philosophy? So was I. In antient or modem tongues? So was I also. Are they versed in the science of divinity? I too have studied it many year. Can they talk fluently upon spiritual things? The very same could I do. Are they plenteous in alms? Behold, I gave all my goods to feed the poor. Do they give of their labour as well as their substance? I have laboured more abundantly than they all. Are they willing to suffer for their brethren? I have thrown up my friends, reputation, ease, country. I have put my life in my hand, wandering into strange lands; I have given my body to be devoured by the deep, parched up with heat, consumed by toil and weariness, or whatsoever God shall please to bring upon me. But does all this (be it more or less, it matters not) make me acceptable to God? Does all I ever did, or can, knew, say, give, do, or suffer, justify me in His sight ? Yea, or the constant use of all the means of grace? (which, nevertheless, is meet, right, and our bounden duty). Or that I know nothing of myself; that I am, as touching outward, moral righteousness, blameless? Or (to come closer yet) the having a rational conviction of all the truths of Christianity? Does all this give me a claim to the holy, heavenly, divine character of a Christian? If the oracles of God are true, if we are still to abide by "the law and testimony," all these things, though when ennobled by faith in Christ, they are holy, and just, and good, yet without it are " dung and dross," meet only to be purged away by the "fire that never shall be quenched."

'This, then, have I learned in the ends of the earth, that I "am fallen short of the glory of God;" that my whole heart is "altogether corrupt and abominable," and consequently my whole life, seeing it cannot be, that an "evil tree" should "bring forth good fruit." That "alienated" as I am "from the life of God," I am "a child of, wrath," an heir of hell: That my own works, my own sufferings, my own righteousness, are so far from reconciling me to an offended God, so far from making any atonement for the least of those sins, which "are more in number than the hairs of my head," that the most specious of them need an atonement themselves: That "having the sea, ace of death" in my heart, and having nothing in or of myself to plead, I have no hope but that of being justified freely cc through the redemption that is in Jesus :" I have no hope, but that if I seek I shall find Christ, and be found in Him, "'not having my own righteousness, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith" (Phil. iii. 9). If it be said, that I have faith (for many such things have I heard from many miserable comforters), I answer, so have the devils — a sort of a faith; but still they are strangers to the covenant of promise. So the Apostles had even at Cana in Galilee, when Jesus first "manifested forth his glory;" even then, they in a sort "believed on Him," but they had not then "the faith that overcometh the world." The faith I want is "A sure trust and confidence in God, that through the merits of Christ my sins are forgiven, and I reconciled to the favour of God." I want that faith which St. Paul recommends to all the world, especially in his Epistle to the Romans: That faith which enables every one that hath it to cry out," I live not; but Christ liveth in me; and the life which I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me." I want that faith which none can have without knowing that he hath it (though many imagine they have it, who have it not); for whosoever hath it is "freed from sin;" the whole "body of sin is destroyed" in him: he is freed from fear, "having peace with God through Christ, and rejoicing in hope of the glory of God." And he is freed from doubt, "having the love of God shed abroad in his heart, through the Holy Ghost which is given unto him, which Spirit itself beareth witness with his spirit, that he is a child of God."’

The last sentences in these extracts show most plainly that Wesley had made considerable spiritual progress since he left England, and that he was 'not far from the kingdom of God.' He had learned that he could not hope for forgiveness on the ground of any works that he had done, or might do. Most significant are the words, 'Having the sentence of death in my heart, and having nothing in or of myself to plead, I have no hope but that of being justified freely through the redemption that is in Jesus;' and again, 'The faith that I want is a sure trust and confidence in God, that, through the merits of Christ, my sins are forgiven, and I reconciled to the favour of God.' How marked a change from the words used months (October 14, 1735) before, 'Our end in leaving our native country was... to save our souls.' The sinner does not save himself — not by works done in righteousness, which we did ourselves, but according to His mercy He saved us.' That which Wesley longed for was 'the Spirit of adoption, whereby' he could 'cry, Abba, Father; the Spirit Himself bearing witness with' his 'spirit that he was a child of God:' whereas he formerly sought to establish the witness of his own spirit. These are two distinct testimonies, on which he subsequently wrote and spoke very plainly, distinguishing them with clearness and precision. The day would come when he would not have occasion to prove to himself, by processes of reasoning, that he was a child of God; but when he would be able in holy joyfulness to say, 'an assurance was given me, that he had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death.' That day was drawing near, but it was not yet.