Wesley's Letters: 1748

To Ebenezer Blackwell

BRISTOL, February 2, 1748.

DEAR SIR,--I have received the second bill of exchange which you was so kind as to send by Saturday's post. As we do not intend to build immediately, [See Journal, iii. 331, 376-7n. They met on Feb. 9 to consult about enlarging and strengthening the room in the Horsefair. In two or three days £230 was subscribed. Wesley preached in the new-built room on Sept. 13.] the money will be payable before we want it.

I do not question but Mrs. Dewal and you will be serviceable to each other. God has given her an advisable spirit; and where that is, there will be every good and perfect gift.

Poor Mr. Hall, when I was at Salisbury, furnished me with a sufficient answer to those who speak of the connexion between him and us. He could not have set the matter in a clearer light than by turning both me and my sister out of doors. [See Journal, iii. 329-30; and previous letter.]

Both in Ireland and in many parts of England the work of our Lord increases daily. At Leeds only, the Society, from an hundred and fourscore, is increased to above five hundred persons. And shall you have no part in the general blessing? I believe better things. You will fight and conquer; take up the cross till you receive the crown. You have both been enabled to set your faces heavenward; and you shall never look back. You are to strengthen each other's hands in God till you come to Mount Zion, and to the general Church of the first-born.--I am, dear sir,

Your most affectionate friend and servant.

To William Holland [1]

BRISTOL, February 6, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--I rejoice to find that you have not forgotten me. Our Lord, I trust, has given us to each other, that we may strengthen each other's hands in Him.

The plain reason why I bless our Lord daily for the assistance of my brother Charles is, because I know him to be an able minister of the New Testament, of the Spirit which maketh alive, and one that exercises himself to have a conscience void of offence toward God and toward man. Surely our poor Brethren do not infer anything contrary to this from the low, self-inconsistent slanders which were handed about two or three years ago!

After Mr. Williams had behaved so ill I had no thought of ever acting in union with him again. And all his overtures and acknowledgements I made no account of till he gave so substantial a proof that God employed him still, as He has done in Dublin. Then I could no longer withstand God; although to this day we have not readmitted him into the number of our stated labourers. But neither dare I reject him altogether.

I was at first a little surprised that the Brethren should so obstinately persist in accounting me their enemy. But I now quietly commit my cause to Him that judgeth righteous judgement.

I will write to Mr. Maxfield this post. To be with the leaders of a Sunday afternoon may be a means of uniting you together. O let us wait upon the Lord; He hath the preeminence, and His right hand bringeth mighty things to pass.

On Monday the 15th instant I am to set out hence for Ireland. Grace and peace be with you.--I am, with tender affection,

Your loving brother.

This was wrote a week, but forgot to be sent.

To Thomas Whitehead (?) [2]

BRISTOL, February 10, 1748.

You ask me, 'Is there any difference between Quakerism and Christianity? 'I think there is. What that difference is I will tell you as plainly as I can.

I will first set down the account of Quakerism (so called) which is given by Robert Barclay; and then add wherein it agrees with, and wherein it differs from, Christianity.

1. 'Seeing the height of all happiness is placed in the true knowledge of God, the right understanding of this is what is most necessary to be known in the first place.'

2. 'It is by the Spirit alone that the true knowledge of God hath been, is, and can be revealed. And these revelations, which are absolutely necessary for the building up of true faith, neither do, nor can, ever contradict right reason or the testimony of the Scriptures.'

Thus far there is no difference between Quakerism and Christianity.

' Yet these revelations are not to be subjected to the examination of the Scriptures as to a touchstone.'

Here there is a difference. The Scriptures are the touchstone whereby Christians examine all, real or supposed, revelations. In all cases they appeal 'to the law and to the testimony,' and try every spirit thereby.

3. 'From these revelations of the Spirit of God to the saints have proceeded the Scriptures of truth.'

In this there is no difference between Quakerism and Christianity.

' Yet the Scriptures are not the principal ground of all truth and knowledge, nor the adequate, primary rule of faith and manners. Nevertheless they are a secondary rule, subordinate to the Spirit. By Him the saints are led into all truth. Therefore the Spirit is the first and principal leader.'

If by these words--' The Scriptures are not the principal ground of truth and knowledge, nor the adequate, primary rule of faith and manners '--be only meant that 'the Spirit is our first and principal leader,' here is no difference between Quakerism and Christianity.

But there is great impropriety of expression. For though the Spirit is our principal leader, yet He is not our rule at all; the Scriptures are the rule whereby He leads us into all truth. Therefore, only talk good English; call the Spirit our 'guide,' which signifies an intelligent being, and the Scriptures our 'rule,' which signifies something used by an intelligent being, and all is plain and clear.

4. 'All mankind is fallen and dead, deprived of the sensation of this inward testimony of God, and subject to the power and nature of the devil, while they abide in their natural state. And hence not only their words and deeds, but all their imaginations, are evil perpetually in the sight of God.'

5. 'God out of His infinite love hath so loved the world that He gave His only Son, to the end that whosoever believeth on Him might have everlasting life. And He enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world, as He tasted death for every man.'

6. 'The benefit of the death of Christ is not only extended to such as have the distinct knowledge of His death and sufferings, but even unto those who are inevitably excluded from this knowledge. Even these may be partakers of the benefit of His death, though ignorant of the history, if they suffer His grace to take place in their hearts, so as of wicked men to become holy.'

In these points there is no difference between Quakerism and Christianity.

7. 'As many as receive the light, in them is produced an holy and spiritual birth, bringing forth holiness, righteousness, purity, and all other blessed fruits. By which holy birth, as we are sanctified, so we are justified.'

Here is a wide difference between Quakerism and Christianity. This is flat justification by works. Whereas the Christian doctrine is, that 'we are justified by faith'; that 'unto him that worketh not, but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted to him for righteousness.'

The ground of this mistake is the not understanding the meaning of the word 'justification.' For Robert Barclay takes it in the same sense as the Papists do, confounding it with sanctification. So, in page 208 of his Apology, he says in express terms, 'Justification, taken in its proper signification, is making one just, and is all one with sanctification.'

8. 'In whom this holy birth is fully brought forth, the body of sin and death is crucified, and their hearts are subjected to the truth, so as not to obey any suggestion of the evil one; but to be free from actual sinning and transgressing of the law of God, and in that respect perfect.'

9. 'They in whom His grace hath wrought in part to purify and sanctify them may yet by disobedience fall from it and make shipwreck of the faith.'

In these propositions there is no difference between Quakerism and Christianity.

The uncommon expression 'This holy birth brought forth' is taken from Jacob Behmen. [See Wesley's Thoughts upon Jacob Behmen (1575-1624) in Works, ix. 509-18.] And, indeed, so are many other expressions used by the Quakers, as are also many of their sentiments.

10. 'By this light of God in the heart every true minister is ordained, prepared, and supplied in the work of the ministry.'

As to part of this proposition, there is no difference between Quakerism and Christianity. Doubtless 'every true minister is by the light of God prepared and supplied in the work of the ministry.' But the Apostles themselves ordained them by 'laying on of hands.' So we read throughout the Acts of the Apostles.

'They who have received this gift ought not to use it as a trade, to get money thereby. Yet it may be lawful for such to receive what may be needful to them for food and clothing.'

In this there is no difference between Quakerism and Christianity.

'We judge it noways unlawful for a woman to preach in the assemblies of God's people.'

In this there is a manifest difference: for the Apostle Paul saith expressly, 'Let your women keep silence in the churches; for it is not permitted unto them to speak.... And if they will learn anything, let them ask their husbands at home; for it is a shame for women to speak in the church.' (I Cor. xiv.34-5.)

Robert Barclay, indeed, says, 'Paul here only reproves the inconsiderate and talkative women.'

But the text says no such thing. It evidently speaks of women in general.

Again: the Apostle Paul saith to Timothy, 'Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection. For I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man'(which public teaching necessarily implies),'but to be in silence. (I Tim. ii. 11-12.)

To this Robert Barclay makes only that harmless reply: 'We think this is not anyways repugnant to this doctrine.' Not repugnant to this, 'I do not suffer a woman to teach'! Then I know not what is.

'But a woman " laboured with Paul in the work of the gospel." 'Yea, but not in the way he had himself expressly forbidden.

' But Joel foretold, "Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy." And "Philip had four daughters which prophesied." And the Apostle himself directs women to prophesy; only with their heads covered.'

Very good. But how do you prove that prophesying in any of these places means preaching?

11. 'All true worship to God is offered in the inward and immediate moving of His own Spirit. We ought not to pray or preach where and when we will, but where and when we are moved thereto by His Spirit. All other worship, both praises, prayers, and preachings, which man sets about in his own will, and at his own appointment, which he can begin and end at pleasure, do or leave undone, as himself sees meet, are but superstitions, will-worship, and abominable idolatries.'

Here lies one of the main differences between Quakerism and Christianity.

It is true, indeed, that 'all true worship to God is offered in the inward and immediate moving of His own Spirit'; or (to speak plain), that we cannot truly worship God, unless His Spirit move or incline our hearts. It is equally true that 'we ought to pray and preach only where and when we are moved thereto by His Spirit.' But I fear you do not in any wise understand what the being 'moved by His Spirit' means. God moves man, whom He has made a reasonable creature, according to the reason which He has given him. He moves him by his understanding as well as his affections, by light as well as by heat. He moves him to do this or that by conviction full as often as by desire. Accordingly you are as really 'moved by the Spirit' when He convinces you you ought to feed him that is hungry, as when He gives you ever so strong an impulse, desire, or inclination so to do.

In like manner, you are as really moved by the Spirit to pray, whether it be in public or private, when you have a conviction it is the will of God you should, as when you have the strongest impulse upon your heart. And He does truly move you to preach, when in His light you 'see light' clearly satisfying you it is His will, as much as when you feel the most vehement impulse or desire to 'hold forth the words of eternal life.'

Now let us consider the main proposition: 'All worship which man sets about in his own will and at his own appointment' Hold! That is quite another thing. It may be at his own appointment, and yet not in his own will; for instance: It is not my own will to preach at all. It is quite contrary to my will. Many a time have I cried out, 'Lord, send by whom Thou wilt send; only send not me I' But I am moved by the Spirit of God to preach: He clearly shows me it is His will I should; and that I should do it when and where the greatest number of poor sinners may be gathered together. Moved by Him, I give up my will, and appoint a time and place, when by His power I trust to speak in His name.

How widely different, then, from true Christianity is that amazing sentence, 'All praises, prayers, and preachings which man can begin and end at his pleasure, do or leave undone, as himself sees meet, are superstitions, will-worship, and abominable idolatry in the sight of God '!

There is not one tittle of Scripture for this; nor yet is there any sound reason. When you take it for granted, 'In all preachings which a man begins or ends at his pleasure, does or leaves undone as he sees meet, he is not moved by the Spirit of God,' you are too hasty a great deal. It may be by the Spirit that he sees meet to do or leave it undone. How will you prove that it is not? His pleasure may depend on the pleasure of God, signified to him by His Spirit. His appointing this or that time or place does in no wise prove the contrary. Prove me that proposition, if you can: 'Every man who preaches or prays at an appointed time, preaches or prays in his own will, and not by the Spirit.'

That 'all such preaching is will-worship, in the sense St. Paul uses the word,' is no more true than that it is murder. That it is superstition remains also to be proved. That it is abominable idolatry, how will you reconcile with what follows but a few lines after?--'However it might please God, who winked at the times of ignorance, to raise some breathings and answer them.' What! answer the breathings of abominable idolatry! I observe how warily this is worded; but it allows enough. If God ever raised and answered those prayers which were made at set times, then those prayers could not be abominable idolatry.

Again: that prayers and preachings, though made at appointed times, may yet proceed from the Spirit of God, may be clearly proved from those other words of Robert Barclay himself, page 389: 'That preaching or prayer which is not done by the actings and movings of God's Spirit cannot beget faith.' Most true. But preaching and prayer at appointed times have begotten faith both at Bristol and Paulton. You know it well. Therefore that preaching and prayer, though at appointed times, was 'done by the actings and movings of God's Spirit.'

It follows that this preaching and prayer were far from 'abominable idolatry.' That expression can never be defended. Say it was a rash word, and give it up.
In truth, from the beginning to the end you set this matter upon a wrong foundation. It is not on this circumstance--the being at set times or not--that the acceptableness of our prayers depends, but on the intention and tempers with which we pray. He that prays in faith, at whatsoever time, is heard. In every time and place God accepts him who 'lifts up holy hands without wrath or doubting.' The charge of superstition, therefore, returns upon yourself; for what gross superstition is this, to lay so much stress on an indifferent circumstance and so little on faith and the love of God!

But to proceed: 'We confess singing of psalms to be a part of God's worship, and very sweet and refreshful when it proceeds from a true sense of God's love; but as for formal singing, it has no foundation in Scripture.'

In this there is no difference between Quakerism and Christianity.

But let it be observed here that the Quakers in general cannot be excused, if this is true; for if they 'confess singing of psalms to be a part of God's worship,' how dare they either condemn or neglect it?

' Silence is a principal part of God's worship--that is, men's sitting silent together, ceasing from all outwards, from their own words and actings, in the natural will and comprehension, and feeling after the inward seed of life.'

In this there is a manifest difference between Quakerism and Christianity.

This is will-worship, if there be any such thing under heaven; for there is neither command nor example for it in Scripture.

Robert Barclay, indeed, refers to abundance of scriptures to prove it is a command. But as he did not see good to set them down at length, I will take the trouble to transcribe a few of them:

' Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen shine heart '(Ps. xxvii. 14). 'Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently: fret not thyself at him who prospereth in his way '; 'Wait on the Lord, and keep His way, and He shall exalt thee to inherit the land' (Ps. xxxvii. 7, 34). 'Say not thou, I will recompense evil; but wait on the Lord, and He shall save thee'(Prov. xx. 22).

By these one may judge of the rest. But how amazing is this! What are all these to the point in question?

For examples of silent meetings he refers to the five texts following:

'They were all with one accord in one place' (Acts ii. I). 'So they sat down with him seven days and seven nights, and none spake a word unto him; for they saw that his grief was very great'(Job ii. 13). 'Then were assembled unto me every one that trembled at the words of God;... and I sat astonied until the evening sacrifice' (Ezra ix. 4). 'Then came certain of the elders of Israel unto me, and sat before me (Ezek. xiv. I, XX. I).

Was it possible for Robert Barclay to believe that any one of these texts was anything to the purpose?

The odd expressions here also--'Ceasing from all outwards, in the natural will and comprehension, and feeling after the inward seed of life'--are borrowed from Jacob Behmen.

12. 'As there is one Lord and one faith, so there is one baptism.' Yea, one outward baptism; which you deny. Here, therefore, is another difference between Quakerism and Christianity.

But 'if those whom John baptized with water were not baptized with the baptism of Christ, then the baptism of water is not the baptism of Christ.'

This is a mere quibble. The sequel ought to be, 'Then that baptism of water'(that is, John's baptism) 'was not the baptism of Christ.' Who says it was?

Yet Robert Barclay is so fond of this argument that he repeats it almost in the same words:

' If John, who administered the baptism of water, yet did not baptize with the baptism of Christ, then the baptism of water is not the baptism of Christ.'

This is the same fallacy still. The sequel here also should be, 'Then that baptism of water was not the baptism of Christ.'

He repeats it, with a little variation, a third time: 'Christ Himself saith, "John baptized with water, but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost." '

He repeats it a fourth time: 'Peter saith, "Then remembered I the word of the Lord, John baptized with water, but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost." From all which it follows that such as John baptized with water, yet were not baptized with the baptism of Christ.' Very true. But this proves neither more nor less than that the baptism of John differed from the baptism of Christ. And so doubtless it did; not, indeed, as to the outward sign, but as to the inward grace.

13. 'The breaking of bread by Christ with His disciples was but a figure, and ceases in such as have obtained the substance.'

Here is another manifest difference between Quakerism and Christianity.

From the very time that our Lord gave that command, 'Do this in remembrance of Me,' all Christians throughout the habitable world did eat bread and drink wine in remembrance of Him.

Allowing, therefore, all that Robert Barclay affirms for eighteen or twenty pages together,--namely (1) that believers partake of the body and blood of Christ in a spiritual manner; (2) that this may be done in some sense when we are not eating bread and drinking wine; (3) that the Lutherans, Calvinists, and Papists differ from each other with regard to the Lord's Supper; and (4) that many of them have spoken wildly and absurdly concerning it,--yet all this will never prove that we need not do what Christ has expressly commanded to be done, and what the whole body of Christians in all ages have done in obedience to that command.

That there was such a command you cannot deny. But you say, 'It is ceased in such as have obtained the substance.'

St. Paul knew nothing of this. He says nothing of its ceasing in all he writes of it to the Corinthians. Nay, quite the contrary. He says, 'As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death till He come.' Oh, say you, the Apostle means 'His inward coming, which some of the Corinthians had not yet known.' Nay, this cannot be his meaning; for he saith to all the Corinthian communicants, 'Ye do show the Lord's death till He come.' Now, if He was not come (spiritually) in some of these, undoubtedly He was in others. Consequently he cannot be speaking here of that coming which, in many of them at least, was already past. It remains, that he speaks of His coming in the clouds to judge both the quick and dead.

In what Robert Barclay teaches concerning the Scriptures, Justification, Baptism, and the Lord's Supper lies the main difference between Quakerism and Christianity.

14. 'Since God hath assumed to Himself the dominion of the conscience, who alone can rightly instruct and govern it; therefore it is not lawful for any whatsoever to force the consciences of others.'

In this there is no difference at all between Quakerism and Christianity.

15. 'It is not lawful for Christians to give or receive titles of honour, as, Your Majesty, Your Lordship, &c.'

In this there is a difference between Quakerism and Christianity. Christians may give titles of honour, such as are usually annexed to certain offices.

Thus St. Paul gives the usual title of 'Most Noble' to the Roman Governor. Robert Barclay, indeed, says, 'He would not have called him such if he had not been truly noble; as, indeed, he was, in that he would not give way to the fury of the Jews against him.'

The Scripture says quite otherwise--that he did give way to the fury of the Jews against him. I read: 'Festus, willing to do the Jews a pleasure (who had desired a favour against him, that he would send for him to Jerusalem, lying in wait in the way to kill him), said to Paul, Wilt thou go up to Jerusalem, and there be judged of these things before me? Then said Paul, I stand at Caesar's judgement-seat, where I ought to be judged: to the Jews have I done no wrong, as thou very well knowest. If I have done anything worthy of death, I refuse not to die; but if there be none of these things whereof these accuse me, no man may deliver me unto them.'

Hence it plainly appears that Festus was a very wicked person-one who, 'to do the Jews a pleasure,' would have betrayed the innocent blood. But although St. Paul was not ignorant of his character, still he called him 'Most Noble Festus,' giving him the title of his office; which, indeed, was neither more nor less than saying, 'Governor Festus' or 'King Agrippa..'

It is therefore mere superstition to scruple this. And it is, if possible, greater superstition still to scruple saying you, vous, or ihr, whether to one or more persons, as is the common way of speaking in any country. It is this which fixes the language of every nation. It is this which makes me say you in England, vous in France, and ihr in Germany, rather than thou, tu, or du, rather than su, se, or +HEB+; which, if we speak strictly, is the only scriptural language; not thou or thee any more than you. But the placing religion in such things as these is such egregious trifling, as naturally tends to make all religion stink in the nostrils of infidels and heathens.

And yet this, by a far greater abuse of words than that you would reform, you call the plain language. O my friend! he uses the plain language who speaks the truth from his heart; not he who says thee or thou, and in the meantime will dissemble or flatter, like the rest of the world.

'It is not lawful for Christians to kneel, or bow the body, or uncover the head to any man.'

If this is not lawful, then some law of God forbids it. Can you show me that law? If you cannot, then the scrupling this is another plain instance of superstition, not Christianity.

'It is not lawful for a Christian to use superfluities in apparel; as neither to use such games, sports, and plays, under the notion of recreations, as are not consistent with gravity and godly fear.'

As to both these propositions, there is no difference between Quakerism and Christianity. Only observe, touching the former, that the sin of superfluous apparel lies chiefly in the superfluous expense. To make it, therefore, a point of conscience to differ from others as to the shape or colour of your apparel is mere superstition: let the difference lie in the price, that you may have the more wherewith to clothe them that have none.

'It is not lawful for Christians to swear before a magistrate, nor to fight in any case.'

Whatever becomes of the latter proposition, the former is no part of Christianity; for Christ Himself answered upon oath before a magistrate. Yea, He would not answer till He was put to His oath, till the high-priest said unto Him, 'I adjure thee by the living God.'

Friend, you have an honest heart, but a weak head; you have a zeal, but not according to knowledge. You was zealous once for the love of God and man, for holiness of heart and holiness of life: you are now zealous for particular forms of speaking, for a set of phrases and opinions. Once your zeal was against ungodliness and unrighteousness, against evil tempers and evil works: now it is against forms of prayer, against singing psalms or hymns, against appointing times of praying or preaching; against saying 'you' to a single person, uncovering your head, or having too many buttons upon your coat. Oh what a fall is here! What poor trifles are these, that now wellnigh engross your thoughts! Come back, come back to the weightier matters of the law, to spiritual, rational, scriptural religion. No longer waste your time and strength in beating the air, in vain controversies and strife of words; but bend your whole soul to the growing in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ, to the continually advancing in that holiness without which you cannot see the Lord.

To Mrs. Jones, of Fonmon Castle [3]

BRISTOL, February 12, 1748.

At my return from Ireland, if not before, I believe the school in Kingswood will be opened. If your son comes there, you will probably hear complaints [See letter of Nov. 7, 1749.]; for the discipline will be exact: it being our view not so much to teach Greek and Latin as to train up soldiers for Jesus Christ. I am obliged now to go the shortest way to Holyhead, my brother being almost impatient for my arrival. I am sorry to hear that Mr. Thomas thinks of leaving Mr. Hodges: I doubt their separation will not be for the furtherance of the gospel. My love and service attend all your family.--I am

Your affectionate friend and servant.

I have sent a few copies for Miss Molly.[Mrs. Jones's eldest daughter, Mary, who married William Thomas, of Llanbradach, in Glamorganshire.]

To Howell Harris [4]

HOLYHEAD, February 28, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--I presume you know how bitter Mr. Ellis (the minister here) used to be against the Methodists. On Friday he came to hear me preach, I believe with no friendly intention. Brother Swindells[Robert Swindells, a man of great zeal and fine spirit, was one of Wesley's devoted preachers for more than forty years. He did much for the poor, and sometimes gave even part of his own clothes to relieve distress. He suffered much, and died suddenly in 1782. See Atmore's Memorial, p. 409; and letter of Feb. 14, 1778, to Mrs. Johnson.] spoke a few words to him, whereupon he invited him to his house. Since then they have spent several hours together, and I believe his views of things are greatly changed. He commends you much for bringing the Methodists back to the Church; and at his request I have wrote a little thing to the same effect. He will translate it into Welsh, and then I design to print it both in Welsh and English: I will send you some as soon as I can, that you may disperse them when you see occasion. I thought it good to apprise you of this before. I know your heart is herein as my heart. O my brother, let us join hand in hand and fight our way through I I want all your prayers. I believe God has detained us here for the sake both of the minister and the people. Grace and peace be with you and yours.--I am, my dear brother,

Your affectionate friend and brother.

To John Cennick [5]

March 14, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--I have heard much since I came to Dublin of the affair of Skinner's Alley. I am unwilling to do anything which may appear contrary to brotherly love, and therefore, if you desire it and can procure Mr. Edwards' consent, I am willing to give up the house into your hands this day. I wish you much light and love of God; and am
Your affectionate brother.

To Mr. Cennick, Skinner's Alley.

To John Cennick [6]

SHIP STREET, March 14, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--You say true, Mr. Edwards has not now any authority to let that house. What I desire is to do as I would be done to with as little noise as possible.

I am ready just now, and throughly willing to put you into possession of the house. I am only in doubt which is the most inoffensive method of doing it, and whether it would not be best to delay a few days; but in this also I shall be glad to be advised.

I salute you and yours in the Lord and our dear brother Toltschig; and am

Your affectionate friend and brother.

To John Cennick, At Skinner's Alley.

To Ebenezer Blackwell

DUBLIN, March 15, 1743.

DEAR SIR,--I have inquired of several, but cannot yet hear of any such merchant as Mr. John Warr in Dublin. A gentleman informed me this morning that there was one of that name, but he has been dead for many years. I suppose this cannot be the same person to whom Mr. Belchier's [William Belchier was a banker in Southwark. He represented that borough in Parliament in 1747 and 1754. Wesley dined with him at Epsom on Aug. 13, 1759. See Journal, iv. 349; W.H.S. iv. 67-9; and letter of April 9, 1755.] letter is directed.

We have not found a place yet that will suit us for building. Several we have heard of, and seen some; but they are all leasehold land, and I am determined to have freehold, if it is to be had in Dublin; otherwise we must lie at the mercy of our landlord whenever the lease is to be renewed.

I find the engaging, though but a little, in these temporal affairs is apt to damp and deaden the soul; and there is no remedy but continual prayer. What, then, but the mighty power of God can keep your soul alive, who are engaged all the day long in such a multiplicity of them? It is well that His grace is sufficient for you. But do you not find need to pray always? And if you can't always say,
My hands are but employed below,
My heart is still with Thee,
is there not the more occasion for some season of solemn retirement (if it were possible, every day), wherein you may withdraw your mind from earth, and even the accounts between God and your own soul? I commend you and yours to His continual protection; and am, dear sir,

Your affectionate servant.

I suppose my brother will be with you almost as soon as this.[Charles Wesley was detained a week through ill-health, but got to Holyhead on March 21.]

To William Holland

DUBLIN, March 16, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--The affair of which you had some account in London is likely to come to a good conclusion. Mr. Samuel Edwards has given Mr. Perronet a lease of the house in Skinner's Alley for three years. This Mr. Perronet transferred to me on Monday; on which I immediately wrote to Mr. Cennick, into whose hands I design to give it up with as little noise as possible. I could not be easy if I had two places to preach in and he none at all.

I have not heard from you a long time. I trust you are at peace in Him that hath loved you, and that your heart is still with

Your affectionate brother.

To William Holland

DUBLIN, March 17, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--Satan hindered our journey hither as long as he could. We were a month in the journey from Bristol to Dublin, and after twelve days' stop at Holyhead were at length driven over by a violent storm. But we came neither too soon nor too late. Our Lord's time is the best time.

You give me an agreeable account of Mr. Hutchins.[See letter of Dec. 20, 1746.] I immediately communicated it to my brother, who will consider that matter more deeply when he comes to London. He is to sail as soon as the wind serves.

I rejoice to hear that you are acquainted with Brother Jones, and trust you will be blest to each other's souls. He is indeed simple of heart, and a faithful labourer in the vineyard of our blessed Lord.

I greatly want two books, which I forgot to procure at London--the one the Count's Testament, the other the Herrnhut Gesang-Buch. Perhaps, if any of the brethren come from London, they would be so kind as to bring them for me.

Peace be with you and yours, my dear brother.--I am

Your ever loving brother.

To 'John Smith'

DUBLIN, March 22, 1748.

SIR,--1. I rejoice to find that in some points we come nearer each other, and that we can bear with each other where we do not. I entirely agree that hell was designed only for stubborn, impenitent sinners, and consequently that it would be absurd to 'threaten damnation to any merely for differing from me in speculations.' But it is an absurdity which I have nothing to do with; for it never yet entered into my thoughts.

2. I rejoice likewise in your allowing that my 'speculations, though false, yea, and leading to a deviation from order, may yet possibly be neither wilful nor sinful'; and much more in that which follows--'I question not but God's mercy may both forgive and reward' even that zeal which is not according to knowledge.

3. Yet 'such deviation,' you think, 'may open a door to much disorder and error.' I grant it may; but I still insist (1) that accidental ill consequences may flow from a good thing; (2) that the good consequences in the present case overbalance the evil beyond all possible degrees of comparison. The same I believe of Mr. Whitefield's public preaching (which was not the consequence but the cause of mine), whose doctrine in general (though he is mistaken in some points) I believe to be the truth of the gospel.

4. I never did censure the whole body of clergy; and God forbid that I ever should. I do not willingly censure any, even the grossly immoral. But you advise to 'complain of these to the Bishop of the diocese.' In what way? 'Be so public-spirited as to present them.' Much may be said on that question. I should ask: (1) Have I a right to present them? I apprehend not. The churchwardens of each parish are to do this; which they will hardly do at my instance. (2) If I could do it myself, the presenting them to the Court is not presenting them to the Bishop: the Bishop, you cannot but know, has no more authority in what is called the Bishop's Court than the Pope of Rome. (3) I cannot present, suppose, thirty persons in as many counties, to the lay chancellors or officials (men whom I apprehend to have just as much authority from Scripture to administer the sacraments as to try ecclesiastical causes), without such an expense both of labour and money and time as I am by no means able to sustain. And what would be the fruit, if I could sustain it? if I was the informer-general against the immoral clergy of England? O sir, can you imagine, or dare you say, that I should 'have the thanks of the bishops, and of all good men, both clergy and laity'? If you allow only those to be good men who would thank me for this, I fear you would not find seven thousand good men in all our Israel.

5. But you have been 'assured there are proofs about to be produced of very shocking things among us also.' It is very possible you may. And, to say the truth, I expected such things long ago. In such a body of people, must there not be some hypocrites, and some who did for a time serve God in sincerity, and yet afterwards turn back from the holy commandment once delivered to them? I am amazed there have been so few instances of this, and look for more every day. The melancholy case of that unhappy man Mr. Hall I do not rank among these; for he had renounced us long ago, and that over and over, both by word and writing, [See letter of Nov. 17, 1742.] And though he called upon me once or twice a year, and lately made some little overtures of friendship, yet I have it under his own hand he could have no fellowship with us because we would not leave the Church. But quia intellexi minus, protrusit foras. ['Because I seemed reluctant to entertain his views, he expelled me from his dwelling.'] To make it quite plain and clear how close a connexion there was between him and me, when I lately called on his poor wife at Salisbury, he fairly turned me out of doors and my sister after me.[See letter of Feb. 2.]

6. My father did not die unacquainted with the faith of the gospel, of the primitive Christians, or of our first Reformers; the same which, by the grace of God, I preach, and which is just as new as Christianity. What he experienced before, I know not; but I know that during his last illness, which continued eight months, he enjoyed a clear sense of his acceptance with God. I heard him express it more than once, although at that time I understood him not. 'The inward witness, son, the inward witness,' said he to me, 'that is the proof, the strongest proof, of Christianity.' And when I asked him (the time of his change drawing nigh), 'Sir, are you in much pain?' he answered aloud, with a smile, 'God does chasten me with pain--yea, all my bones with strong pain; but I thank Him for all, I bless Him for all, I love Him for all!' I think the last words he spoke, when I had just commended his soul to God, were, 'Now you have done all.' And, with the same serene, cheerful countenance, he fell asleep, without one struggle or sigh or groan. I cannot therefore doubt but the Spirit of God bore an inward witness with his spirit that he was a child of God.[See Charles Wesley's letter to Samuel, April 30, 1735, in Priestley's Letters, pp. 51-3.]

7. That 'God blesses a doctrine preached (new or old) to the saving of souls from death does not prove that every circumstance of it is true; for a Predestinarian preacher may save souls.' But it undoubtedly proves that the main of what is preached is the truth as it is in Jesus; for it is only the gospel of Jesus Christ which is the power of God unto salvation. Human wisdom, as human laws, may restrain from outward sin; but they cannot avail to the saving of the soul. If God gives this blessing to what is preached, it is a sufficient 'proof of His approbation.' But I will not contend about words, or, when His blessing is allowed, dispute whether it has His approbation or not.

8. But to argue on your own supposition: you say, 'It only shows that novelty, which has a natural tendency to awakening, may, when God pleases, have an efficacious tendency to amending.' Well, then, if the novelty of an indifferent circumstance, such as place, has a natural tendency to awakening, surely we may use it according to its natural tendency, in order to awaken those that sleep in sin I And if God has, in fact, been pleased to use it beyond its natural tendency, to make it efficacious for amending as well as awakening, ought we not to acquiesce, yea, and rejoice therein?

9. But are sinners amended? Are they saved from their sins? Are they truly converted to God? Here is, what always must be, the main question. That many are in some sort converted is owned. But to what are they converted? 'to the belief of such proofless, incredible stuff as transubstantiation? or to the Popish severities of flesh-fasting, celibacies, and other monkeries?' Not so. If they are converted at all, they are converted from all manner of wickedness 'to a sober, righteous, and godly life.' Such an uniform practice is true outward holiness. And, wherever this is undeniably found, we ought to believe there is holiness of heart, seeing the tree is known by its fruits.

10. That 'the conversion of sinners to this holiness is no miracle at all' is new doctrine indeed! So new to me that I never heard it before, either among Protestants or Papists. I think a miracle is a work of omnipotence wrought by the supernatural power of God. Now, if the conversion of sinners to holiness is not such a work, I cannot tell what is. I apprehend our Lord accounts it a greater work than giving sight to the blind, yea, or raising the dead; for it was after He had raised Lazarus from the dead that He told His Apostles, 'Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on Me, the works that I do shall he do also. And greater works than these shall he do, because I go unto My Father.' Greater outward works they could not do. It remains, therefore, that we understand those solemn words of converting souls to God; which is, indeed, a greater work than any that can be wrought on the body.

11. I am glad you do 'not demand miracles in proof of doctrines.' Thus far, then, we are agreed. But you demand them (1) 'as things to which I lay claim,' and in order to show that claim cannot be supported; (2) as necessary to give me 'a right to be implicitly believed '; and (3) to justify my 'assuming the Apostolate of England.'

If this be all, your demand must soon fall to the ground, since the whole foundation sinks beneath it. For: (1) I lay no claim (in your sense) to miracles; for the clearing of which suffer me to refer you once more (that I may not be surfeited with crambe decies repetita [Juvenal's Satires, vii. 154: 'Saying the same things ten times over.' Wesley adds decies.]) to the second letter to Mr.
Church.[See letter of June 17, 1746, sect. 5.] (2) I claim no implicit faith: I neither pay it to, nor expect it from, any man living. (3) I no otherwise assume the Apostolate of England (if you choose to use the phrase) than I assume the Apostolate of all Europe, or, rather, of all the world; that is, in plain terms, wherever I see one or a thousand men running into hell, be it in England, Ireland, or France, yea, in Europe, Asia, Africa, or America, I will stop them if I can: as a minister of Christ, I will beseech them in His name to turn back and be reconciled to God.[See letter of March 20, 1739.] Were I to do otherwise, were I to let any soul drop into the pit whom I might have saved from everlasting burnings, I am not satisfied God would accept my plea, 'Lord, he was not of my parish.'

12. If a single parish takes up your whole time and care, and you spend and are spent upon it, well. And yet I will be bold to say that no blessing from God will accompany your ministry, but the drunkard will be a drunkard still (and so the covetous, the brawler, the adulterer), unless you both believe and teach what you love to call my 'new notions of inspiration'; I mean as to the substance, not the particular manner of explication. You will all the day long stretch out your hands in vain, unless you teach them to pray that the Spirit of God may inwardly witness with their spirits that they are the children of God. I apprehend you are the person that 'wriggle on this head,' because the argument pinches: you appear to me to twist and wind to and fro, because I 'distinguish away,' not my doctrines, but your objections--unravelling the fallacies, showing what part is false, and what part true, but nothing to the purpose. Since you move it again, I will resume the point once more. You will pardon me if I speak home, that it may be seen which of us two it is that has hitherto given the 'evasive answers.'

13. You say, 'Notwithstanding all your pains to distort that text, for anything which has yet been said to the contrary, it may be understood of the Spirit's witness by miracles, by prophecy, or by the imperceptibly wrought assurances of the Holy Ghost.' This (unless it gives up the whole cause; as indeed it must if it does not imply a contradiction, seeing imperceptible assurance is no assurance at all) is neither an evasive nor an unevasive answer. It is just no answer at all. Instead of refuting my arguments, you reply, 'You distort the text. Ipse dixi.'

'The Quakers maintain divine illapses and sensible communications always; you only sometimes.' If you speak to the purpose, if you mean the inward witness of God's Spirit, I maintain it always as well as they.

'The Methodist writings abound with intimations of divine communications, prophetic whispers, and special guidances.' Perhaps so; but that is another question. We are now speaking of the inward witness of the Spirit.

14. 'They teach the notification of justification to be as perceptible as the sun at noonday.' Now you come to the point, and I allow the charge. From the beginning of our correspondence to this day I have, without any shifting or evasion at all, maintained flatly and plainly: (1) A man feels the testimony of God's Spirit, and cannot then deny or doubt his being a child of God. (2) After a time this testimony is withdrawn: not from every child of God; many retain the beginning of their confidence steadfast unto the end. (3) Then he may doubt whether this testimony was of God; and perhaps at length deny that it was.

There is no shadow of contradiction between this and the case of Hannah Richardson.[See letter of Dec. 30, 1745, sect. 7, to him.] For (1) She felt the testimony of God's Spirit, and could not then deny or doubt her being a child of God. (2) After a time this testimony was withdrawn. (3) Then she doubted whether it was of God. Observe: she never forgot or denied that she had such a testimony; but she then doubted whether it was of God.

But you have still more to remark upon this head: so I attend you step by step.

15. 'The instances produced' (it should be 'instance,' for you cite but one) 'in support of these high claims, instead of supporting, utterly subvert them. Thus Hannah Richardson had her justification notified; and yet she denied that her sins were forgiven.' You should say, She doubted of it after a time, when the testimony of God's Spirit was withdrawn. 'Now, either this notification was not so distinct as is pretended, or, if distinct, was notified by one of suspected credit, whom she could not believe. Or, if it was both distinct and credible, she was not of sound understanding if she disbelieved it, nor of sound memory if she' (afterwards, it should be) 'doubted or denied that she had ever received such a message.'

You say: (1) 'Either that notification was not so distinct.' It was so distinct that she could not then doubt. 'Or (2) Was notified to her by one of suspected credit, whom she could not believe.' Yes; she then believed, and knew it was the voice of God. 'Or (3) She was not of sound understanding if she disbelieved it.' When she disbelieved it, she was not. For as the serpent deceived Eve, so he then deceived her, fqeivrwn toV novmma aujth'". [See 2 Cor. xi. 3.]

'But could she possibly deny a plain matter of fact?' You add, as if I have said so, 'Yes, in process of time she might, particularly if she drew back to perdition '; and then subjoin, 'But what is this evasive answer to the case of Hannah Richardson?' I think, nothing at all. I never applied it to her case. She never denied her having had such a testimony. But after a time she doubted (as I said before) whether that testimony was true.

16. I presume Eve in paradise was at least equal in understanding with any of her posterity. Now, unto her God said, 'In the day that thou eatest of the tree of knowledge thou shalt surely die.' And doubtless 'this notification was as distinct and perceptible to her as the sun at noonday.' Yet after a time (perhaps only a few days) she utterly disbelieved it.

You exclaim, 'Absurd! Impossible! There could be no such thing; as I shall prove immediately.'

'Either this notification was not so distinct as is pretended, or, if distinct, was notified by one of suspected credit, whom she could not believe. Or else, if it was both distinct and credible, she was not of sound understanding if she disbelieved it, nor of sound memory if she doubted of it.' Therefore the whole story is absurd and a self-inconsistent (not a cunningly devised) fable.

Is not the plain answer this? This notification was as distinct as pretended; and it was not notified by one of suspected credit, whom she did then firmly believe. But afterwards Satan deceived her by his subtilty, fqeirwn to nohma auths --'corrupting, spoiling, destroying, the soundness of her understanding,' and of her memory too; and then she disbelieved God, and believed him who said, 'Ye shall not surely die.' How much more is he able by the same subtilty to deceive any of the fallen children of men!

17. What follows you did not design for argument, but wit. 'I cannot help thinking that Paul, with all his infirmities, might more reasonably be looked upon as an inspired prophet than Mr. Wesley, though arrived, in his own imagination, to a sinless perfection.' I never told you so, nor any one else. I no more imagine that I have already attained, that I already love God with all my heart, soul, and strength, than that I am in the third heavens.

But you make me abundant amends for this by your charitable belief that, though I may now imagine things that are not and be mistaken in many points, yet He who remembers I am but dust will at last 'forgive and reward me.' It is enough; the time of error and sin is short, for eternity is at hand.

Strangers and pilgrims here below,

This earth, we know, is not our place;

And hasten through the vale of woe,

And, restless to behold Thy face,

Swift to our heavenly country move,

Our everlasting home above.

To John Cennick [7]

CORK STREET, March 26, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--Till the wind serves for Mr. Perronet and my brother to sail I shall have more encumbrance on my hand. When this is over, the sooner our little affair is dispatched the more agreeable a good deal to me. Mr. Perronet has made over the three years' lease to me, so that now I think nothing hinders my doing what I see good. I know, indeed, many will blame me. But I cannot help that. I have only to clear my conscience in the sight of God. May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be ever with your spirit and with all that are near and dear to you.--I remain

Your most affectionate brother.

To Mr. Cennick.

To John Toltschig [8]

CORK STREET, March 26, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--Has Mr. Cennick left any orders with you concerning the house in Skinner's Alley? If he has, if he is of the same mind, I am ready to do as I said to-day. If he has altered his mind, I design to preach there myself next week.--I am

Your loving brother.

I expected to have heard from him before he left Ireland.

To Brother Toltschig

To John Toltschig [9]

CORK STREET March 29, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--I don't think Mr. Cennick has used me well. He ought to have let me hear from him before he left the kingdom. It would have been only common civility, to say nothing of brotherly love.

Since he has left all things undetermined (whether on purpose or no I leave to the Searcher of Hearts) my conscience is satisfied, and I think it would not be right to let the house lie empty any longer. I therefore design to preach there tomorrow. But whenever Mr. Cennick will indemnify me as to the bonds and covenants I am under, I will relinquish it to him at a month's warning.--I am

Your affectionate brother.

To Mr. Toltschig.

To his Brother Charles [10]

DUBLIN, Saturday, April 16, 1748.

DEAR BROTHER,--We returned hither last night. But I must (as you observe) make another journey into the country. Our Societies there already consist of 350 members. But they are most of them raw, undisciplined soldiers, and, without great care, will desert to their old master.

The Conference must be in London this year, in order to the meeting of the Stewards from all the Societies. I hope to be there about Wednesday in Whitsun week.

Skinner's Alley house is now, as it ever was, a millstone about my neck. I shall shake it off as soon as possible, and do as I would be done to. I can never get over 'We laid out so much money and have not had a penny returned.'[See letter of March 14.]

T. Alsop is not equal to Reading, nor can John Jones ride long journeys.[John Jones was a medical man who became one of Wesley's trusted preachers. He was a master at Kingswood. See Journal, iii. 530; and letter of Sept. 3, 1756, to Nicholas Norton.] I am glad you are returned.

To William Mondet

CORK STREET, April 16, 1748.

SIR,--A warm letter, subscribed by Mr. Binns and you, was given me the evening before I left Dublin. The most material part of it ran thus: 'Why did you not settle that affair with Mr. Cennick before you preached in the house, which you could not preach in a fortnight ago for conscience' sake?' Have patience: I will tell you why. I did not settle that affair with Mr. Cennick before he went away because I heard not one word of his going till he was agone. Otherwise it was my full design to have settled it then, which might have been done in a few hours' time. I did not preach in the house a fortnight before because I was determined not to preach there till I should have made Mr. Cennick one more offer, as I thought brotherly love required; but after I had done this and he appeared to me (comparing his behaviour to me with his words to others) to trifle and put me off, I could not in conscience delay preaching there any longer. The fault lay at his door, and I now conceived myself to be clear in the sight of God and man, even though I should never have made him another offer of the place at all.

You go on: 'How can you venture to take God's name in your mouth, and to call upon God in an house, at which time your own conscience must tell you that you have taken the house over people's heads? It is our opinion, if you had the least feeling of God's love in your heart, you could not do it.' I suppose it is your opinion. But I stand before an higher Judge.

You entirely mistake my motive of acting. I never looked upon the taking this house as 'the taking it over people's heads.' For it was advertised; and you positively refused to take it. This was not the ground of my scruple. But I desired to do as I would be done to. And I have done so to the best of my knowledge. Lord, what I know not teach Thou me!

That I added after all, I 'am still ready, if it shall be required, to relinquish it at a month's warning,' you ought to have acknowledged as a fresh and signal proof both of uprightness and brotherly kindness.

Mr. William Mondet.

To John Toltschig [11]

CORK STREET, April 16, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--In my last letter I said, 'Whenever Mr. Cennick will indemnify me as to the bonds and covenants I am under, I will relinquish it' (the house in Skinner's Alley) 'to him at a month's warning.'

I say so still. There has not yet been any stop on my part, neither shall be.

By your letter of the 14th instant I learn (as well as by Mr. Cennick's enclosed therein) that Mr. Horne has authority from Mr. Cennick to treat with me concerning it; who, you say, 'only waits for the time and place I shall appoint to meet with me.'

I will be ready at Mr. Watts' in Park Street at six on Monday morning to show Mr. Horne what bonds and covenants I am under. And as soon as I am legally indemnified therefrom, I will put the house into his hands.

The people at your Society hurt themselves only by the many untrue and unkind words which they continually utter concerning

Your still loving though much injured brother.

To Mr. Toltschig In Skinner's Alley.

To Ebenezer Blackwell

DUBLIN, April 20, 1748..

DEAR SIR,--I am persuaded God has taught both Mrs. Blackwell and you to say, 'The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.' Shall not all these things work together for good? Perhaps God was jealous over you, lest your heart should lean to any of the things of earth. He will have you to be all His own, to desire nothing but Him, to seek Him and love Him with your whole heart. And He knows what are the hindrances, and what means will be most effectual toward it. Then let Him work according to the counsel of His own will. It is the Lord! Let Him do what seemeth Him good.

Oh what a pearl, of how great price, is the very lowest degree of the peace of God! A little measure of it, I doubt not, you will find in the most trying circumstances. May God increase it a thousand-fold in both your hearts!--I am, dear sir,
Your most affectionate servant,

To William Holland

DUBLIN, April 20, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--I hope you now find things more according to your desire than when I left London, and that she who is as your own soul is more reconciled than she was to the will of our Lord concerning you. The Brethren also, I presume, now leave you to act as you are persuaded in your own mind. I have had some trials myself lately from those who are in union with them. I seek for peace; but when I speak unto them thereof, they make themselves ready for battle.[See letter of Feb. 6.] I trust they will do me much good; for I cannot possibly fasten any kindness on them. They seem determined to believe not one word I say. So much the more may I confirm my love toward them. O my brother, this is good and profitable for our souls. May our Lord give us all the mind that was in Him!--I am

Your affectionate brother.

To William Horne [12]

CORK STREET, April 22, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--Mr. Meriton designs to call upon Mr. Edwards to-morrow and try whether he will accept of you for tenants. If he will, I shall be free from all encumbrances, and you will have the house by a common lease. If he will not, it will not hinder me; but I will meet you, if you please, at Mr. Watts' at six on Monday morning.--I am

Your affectionate brother.

To Mr. Horne.

To William Horne [13]

CORK STREET, April 27, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER, or, to speak civilly, SIR,--You do well to speak your mind. If it was my mind to keep the house, I should do it without seeking any presence at all. I have the staff in my own hands. But it is not my mind to keep it.

One thing I know, that you had the house before we came to Dublin. A second thing I believe, that if we had not come you would have had it still. And this determined me to take the lease of Mr. Perronet that you might have it again.

My yea is yea, and my nay is nay. What I said at first I say still. Indemnify me as to the rents and covenants, and take the house when you will. I have empowered Mr. Meriton to act for me, as you do for Mr. Cennick.--I am

Your affectionate brother, or, if you choose it rather,

Your humble servant.

To a Clergyman [14]

TULLAMORE, May 4, 1748.

REVEREND SIR,--I have at present neither leisure nor inclination to enter into a formal controversy; but you will give me leave just to offer a few loose hints relating to the subject of last night's conversation.

I. 1. Seeing life and health are things of so great importance, it is without question highly expedient that physicians should have all possible advantages of learning and education.

2. That trial should be made of them by competent judges before they practice publicly.

3. That after such trial they be authorized to practice by those who are empowered to convey that authority.

4. And that, while they are preserving the lives of others, they should have what is sufficient to sustain their own.

5. But, supposing a gentleman bred at the University in Dublin, with all the advantages of education, after he has undergone all the usual trials, and then been regularly authorized to practice,--

6. Suppose, I say, this physician settles at --for some years, and yet makes no cures at all; but, after trying his skill on five hundred persons, cannot show that he has healed one, many of his patients dying under his hands, and the rest remaining just as they were before he came,--

7. Will you condemn a man who, having some little skill in physic and a tender compassion for those who are sick or dying all around him, cures many of those without fee or reward whom the doctor could not cure?--

8. At least, did not; which is the same thing as to the case in hand, were it only for this reason--because he did not go to them, and they would not come to him.

9. Will you condemn him, because he has not learning? or has not had an university education? What then? He cures those whom the man of learning and education cannot cure.

10. Will you object, that he is no physician nor has any authority to practice? I cannot come into your opinion. I think medicus est qui medetur, 'he is a physician who heals,' and that every man has authority to save the life of a dying man. But, if you only mean he has no authority to take fees, I contend not; for he takes none at all.

11. Nay, and I am afraid it will hold, on the other hand, medicus non est qui non medetur;--I am afraid, if we use propriety of speech, 'he is no physician who works no cure.'

12. 'Oh, but he has taken his degree of Doctor of Physic, and therefore has authority.' Authority to do what? 'Why, to heal all the sick that will employ him.' But (to waive the case of those who will not employ him; and would you have even their lives thrown away?) he does not heal those that do employ him. He that was sick before is sick still; or else he is gone hence, and is no more seen. Therefore his authority is not worth a rush; for it serves not the end for which it was given.

13. And surely he has not authority to kill them by hindering another from saving their lives!

14. If he either attempts or desires to hinder him, if he condemns or dislikes him for it, it is plain to all thinking men he regards his own fees more than the lives of his patients.

II. Now to apply. 1. Seeing life everlasting and holiness, or health of soul, are things of so great importance, it was highly expedient that ministers, being physicians of the soul, should have all advantages of education and learning.

2. That full trial should be made of them in all respects, and that by the most competent judges, before they enter on the public exercise of their office, the saving souls from death.

3. That after such trial they be authorized to exercise that office by those who are empowered to convey that authority. (I believe bishops are empowered to do this, and have been so from the apostolic age.)
4. And that those whose souls they save ought in the meantime to provide them what is needful for the body.

5. But, suppose a gentleman bred at the University of Dublin, with all the advantages of education, after he has undergone the usual trials, and been regularly authorized to save souls from death,--

6. Suppose, I say, this minister settles at for some years, and yet saves no soul at all, saves no sinners from their sins; but, after he has preached all this time to five or six hundred persons, cannot show that he has converted one from the error of his ways, many of his parishioners dying as they lived, and the rest remaining just as they were before he came,--

7. Will you condemn a man who, having compassion on dying souls and some knowledge of the gospel of Christ, without any temporal reward, saves many from their sins whom the minister could not save?--

8. At least, did not: nor ever was likely to do it; for he did not go to them, and they would not come to him.

9. Will you condemn such a preacher, because he has not learning? or has not had an university education? What then? He saves those sinners from their sins whom the man of learning and education cannot save. A peasant being brought before the College of Physicians in Paris, a learned doctor accosted him, 'What, friend, do you pretend to prescribe to people that have agues? Dost thou know what an ague is?' He replied, 'Yes, sir. An ague is what I can cure and you cannot.'

10. Will you object, 'But he is no minister, nor has any authority to save souls'? I must beg leave to dissent from you in this. I think he is a true, evangelical minister, diakonos, servant of Christ and His Church, who outw diakonei, so ministers, as to save souls from death, to reclaim sinners from their sins; and that every Christian, if he is able to do it, has authority to save a dying soul. But, if you only mean he has no authority to take tithes, I grant it. He takes none; as he has freely received, so he freely gives.

11. But to carry the matter a little farther. I am afraid it will hold, on the other hand, with regard to the soul as well as the body, medicus non est qui non medetur;--I am afraid reasonable men will be much inclined to think he that saves no souls is no minister of Christ.

12. 'Oh, but he is ordained, and therefore has authority.' Authority to do what? 'To save all the souls that will put themselves under his care.' True; but (to waive the case of them that will not; and would you desire that even those should perish?) he does not, in fact, save them that are under his care. Therefore what end does his authority serve? He that was a drunkard is a drunkard still. The same is true of the Sabbath-breaker, the thief, the common swearer. This is the best of the case; for many have died in their iniquity, and their blood will God require at the watchman's hand.

13. For surely he has no authority to murder souls, either by his neglect, by his smooth if not false doctrine, or by hindering another from plucking them out of the fire and bringing them to life everlasting!

14. If he either attempts or desires to hinder him, if he condemns or is displeased with him for it, how great reason is there to fear that he regards his own profit more than the salvation of souls.--I am, reverend sir,

Your affectionate brother.

To William Mondet [15]

CORK STREET, May 14, 1748.

SIR,--What I said at first, I say just now without any intricacy or reserve at all: 'Indemnify me, and take the house to-day.' But be sure; I will keep it till I am indemnified. And if you refuse to do this, 'tis not I refuse to quit, but you refuse to take the house. Every sensible man must see where it sticks--namely, at you, and not at me.--I am

Your well-wisher and servant for Christ's sake.

Mr. Meriton and Williams have power to transact this without me.

To Mr. W. Mondet.

To John Cennick [16]

May 16, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--I know you cannot indemnify me with regard to the rents and covenants I am under, which was the thing I always insisted on, and must insist on still, without encumbering yourselves. If, therefore, you cannot accept the house 'upon these conditions,' the case is determined at once.

I wish you much happiness; and am

Your very affectionate brother.

To Mr. Cennick.

To John Haime [17]

LONDON, June 21, 1748.

MY DEAR BROTHER,--Think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which God hath seen good to try you with. Indeed, the chastisement for the present is not joyous, but grievous; nevertheless it will by-and-by bring forth the peaceable fruits of righteousness. It is good for you to be in the fiery furnace: though the flesh be weary to bear it, you shall be purified therein, but not consumed; for there is one with you whose form is as the Son of God. O look up! Take knowledge of Him who spreads underneath you His everlasting arms I Lean upon Him with the whole weight of your soul. He is yours; lay hold upon Him.

Away let grief and sighing flee;
Jesus hath died for thee, for thee.

Mercy and peace shall not forsake you. Through every threatening cloud look up, and wait for happy days.

To Ebenezer Blackwell [18]

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE, August 14, 1748.

DEAR SIR,--I trust you do not grow weary or faint in your mind; although you cannot but find a thousand temptations. Business itself, when it comes in such a flood upon you, must needs be one of the greatest temptations, since it naturally tends to hinder your waiting upon God (as you would desire always to do) without distraction. And when our mind is hurried, it is hardly possible to retain either the spirit of prayer or of thankfulness. But still, with God no word shall be impossible. He has called you by His providence to this way of life; and He is able to preserve you in the midst of the world as well as in a desert. And I cannot doubt but He will, because you appear to be sensible of your danger. Walk, then, through the fire; you shall not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon you. Come unto Jesus upon the waves of the sea; the floods shall not run over you.

I have had some thoughts of printing, on a finer paper and with a larger letter, not only all that we have published already, but, it may be, all that is most valuable in the English tongue, in threescore or fourscore volumes, in order to provide a complete library for those that fear God. I should print only an hundred copies of each. Brother Downes [See letter of Nov. 7, 1751.] would give himself up to the work; so that, whenever I can procure a printing-press, types, and some quantity of paper, I can begin immediately. I am inclined to think several would be glad to forward such a design; and if so, the sooner the better, because my life is far spent, and I know not how soon the night cometh wherein no man can work.

I commend you, and dear Mrs. Blackwell, and Mrs. Dewal to the grace of God; and am, dear sir,

Your affectionate brother and servant.

I leave this place on Tuesday, and propose to spend ten or twelve days about Leeds.

To a Friend [19]

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE, August 14, 1748.

Are you still pressing toward the mark, the prize of your high calling? Is your hope full of immortality? Do you continue to count all things loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus? Some time since, I was in much concern for you, lest you should be swallowed up in the things of earth. But I trust God has wrought a great deliverance for you, and given you to choose Him for your God and your all. O seek Him with an undivided heart, till you see Him as He is.

I have often thought of mentioning to you and a few others a design I have had for some years of printing a little library, perhaps of fourscore or one hundred volumes, for the use of those that fear God. My purpose was to select whatever I had seen most valuable in the English language, and either abridge or take the whole tracts, only a little corrected or explained, as occasion should require. Of these I could print ten or twelve, more or less, every year, on a fine paper, and large letter, which should be cast for the purpose. As soon as I am able to purchase a printing-press and types, I think of entering on this design. I have several books now ready, and a printer who desires nothing more than food and raiment. In three or four weeks I hope to be in London, and, if God permits, to begin without delay.

To James Hargrave, the Constable at Barrowford [20]

WIDDUP, August 26, 1748.

SIR,--When I came last night to Roughlee, I found abundance of people, many of whom pressed me to preach there. But I told them I had given my word I would not preach there that evening. They then desired me to stay with them all night; but this also I refused, staying no longer than till our horses were ready, and till I had given them a short exhortation not to be out late at night and as much as lay in them to live peaceably with all men.

This is a short account of what I've done. I must now mention a little what you have done: I say you, because all that was done yesterday was in the eye of the law as much your act and deed as if you had done all with your own hands; seeing (not to touch now upon some other points, evidence of which may be produced in due time) all those actions are imputable to you which you could have prevented and would not.

Between twelve and one o'clock, when I was speaking to some quiet people without any noise or tumult, a drunken rabble came with clubs and staves in a tumultuous and riotous manner; the captain of whom, Richard Bocock by name, said he was a deputy constable, and that he was come to bring me to you. I made no resistance (though he had no warrant to show, and consequently all he did was utterly illegal), but went with him. I had scarce gone ten yards, when a man of his company struck me with his fist in the face with all his might! I told him it was not well, and went on quickly after another threw his stick at my head. I then made a stand, having little encouragement to go forward. But another of the champions, cursing and swearing in the most shocking manner, and flourishing his club over his head, cried out, 'Bring him away!' So, perceiving there was no remedy, I walked on to Barrowford (where they informed me you was); their drummer going before, to draw all the rabble together and encourage them in their work.

I must just stop to inform you (if you know it not) that this whole action of carrying me along against my will was an assault upon the King's highway, contrary to his peace, crown, and dignity.

When your deputy had brought me prisoner into the house, he permitted Mr. Grimshaw, the minister of Haworth, Mr. Colbeck [Thomas Colbeck was steward of the Haworth Round, and a devoted class-leader and local preacher. See Laycock's Great Haworth Round, pp. 139-42; and letter of Nov. 25.] of Keighley, and one more [William Batty, one of Ingham's preachers. See Journal, ii. 294n.] to be with me, promising none should hurt them. Soon after, you and your friends came in and required me to promise 'I would come to Roughlee no more.' I told you 'I would cut off my hand rather than make any such promise.' Neither would I promise that none of my friends should come. After abundance of rambling discourse (for I could keep none of you long to one point) from about one o'clock till between three and four, in which one of you justly said, 'No, we will not be like Gamaliel, we will proceed like the Jews,' you seemed a little satisfied with my saying, 'I will not preach at Roughlee this time, nor shall I be here again till August next; then I will show you the authority by which I preach.' You then undertook to quiet the mob; to whom you went and spoke a few words, and their noise immediately ceased, while I walked out with you at the back door.

I should have mentioned that I had desired you to let me go several times before, but could not prevail; and that, when I attempted to go with Richard Bocock, the mob came immediately to me, cursing and swearing and throwing whatever came to hand. One of them beat me down to the ground; and when I rose again, the rest came about me like lions and forced me back into the house.

While you and I went out at one door, Mr. Grimshaw and Mr. Colbeck went out at the other. The mob immediately closed them in, and tossed them to and fro with the utmost violence, threw Mr. Grimshaw down, and loaded them both with dirt and mire; not one of your friends offering to assist them or call off the blood-hounds from the pursuit. The other quiet, harmless people which followed me at a distance to see what the end would be they treated still worse, not only by your connivance, but by the express order of your deputy. They made them flee for their lives amidst showers of dirt and stones, without any regard to age or sex. Some of them they trampled in the mire, and dragged by the hair, particularly a young man who came with me from Newcastle.[This was William Mackford, a highly respected trustee of the Orphan House at Newcastle. He had come with Wesley from Newcastle, and under his preaching was 'set at liberty' the day this letter was written. See Journal, iii. 372; Stamp's Orphan House, p. 115.] Many they beat with their clubs without mercy. One they forced to leap down (or they would have cast him headlong) from a rock ten or twelve foot high into the river; and even when he crawled out, wet and bruised, they swore they would throw him in again, and he hardly escaped out of their hands.

At this time you sat well pleased close to the scene of action, not attempting in the least to hinder them; and all this time you was talking of justice and law. Alas! Suppose we were Dissenters (which I utterly deny, consequently laws against Dissenting conventicles are nothing at all to us); suppose we were Turks or Jews;--still, are we not to have the benefit of the law of our country? Proceed against us by law, if you can or dare; but not by lawless violence--not by making a drunken, cursing, swearing, riotous mob both judge, jury, and executioner. This is flat rebellion both against God and the King, as you may possibly find to your cost.

But, before I take any farther step herein, I think myself obliged to make you a fair proposal. If you will promise me under your hand to suppress all mobs at Roughlee and the parts adjacent (as your duty both to God and the King require you to do, even at the hazard of your life); if you will promise to proceed only by law against those you apprehend to act contrary to law (which, indeed, I absolutely deny you to do), nor can it be supposed that none of the lawyers in Leeds, Newcastle, Bristol, or London should find it out (if it were so), but only the Solomons in Pendle Forest;--if I accordingly find a letter from you to this effect when I come to London, directed to the Foundery, near Moorfields, I shall be satisfied and proceed no farther. If not, I shall try another course.

Only one piece of advice permit me to give. Do not consult herein with some petty attorney (who will certainly say your cause is good), but with some able barrister-at-law. This is the course I take. The counsel to whom I applied on this very Act of Parliament before I left London were Counsellor Glanville, a barrister of Gray's Inn, [See the next two letters.] and Sir Dudley Rider, the King's Attorney-General.--I am

Your real friend.

To James Hargrave, Near Colne,
In Lancashire.

To William Grimshaw [21]

LONDON, November 2, 1748.

So far as I can judge, the whole costs of information in the King's Bench will be between thirty and forty pounds: part of which should be speedily advanced; because, from the time the cause is first moved here, the counsellors should have their fees paid regularly. 'Tis miserable bad husbandry to starve a cause. Indeed, Mr. Glanville (I apprehend) will return his fees. However, they must be paid (for the present) as duly as those of Sir John Strange. In the end 'tis probable all the costs of suit will fall upon the rioters.

The affidavits should be taken and sent without losing one day. The Judges often put off a cause which comes before them at the latter end of a term. Therefore you should not delay; near a fortnight of the term is gone already.

To John Bennet

LONDON, November 17, 1748.

I will make affidavit, if Mr. Glanville think it needful. He will want Sir John Strange to assist him, and will move the Court to-morrow, if he has not done it this morning.

If we leave out Mr. White,[See heading to letter of Aug. 26.] he must promise under his hand neither to persecute the Methodists directly nor indirectly. I would not leave him at liberty now (nor any of them) to do it 'according to law,' as they might term it. Our demand now rises higher--namely, that they 'wholly refrain from these men and let them alone.' I would express it in those very terms. Only let them print and welcome.

By all means mention the expense to the leaders where you are. And the thing requires haste.

I do not believe the Bishop's Court has anything to do with such matters. Let our brother tell them so in modest and proper terms. If they proceed, you must immediately remove the cause into the King's Bench, which will tear them all to pieces. Let them send him to prison if they see good.

Wherever faith and love takes place, be sure enthusiasm will follow. The Thoughts upon Marriage [See letter of June 25, 1746, sect. 5n.] are full upon that point. The publishing them stopped the delusion here. You can only warn all the Societies against it with great plainness and gentleness. And be in nothing terrified. All will end well.

To John Bennet [22]

LONDON, November 25, 1748.

I have received a bill for ten pounds from T. Colbeck, which will defray the present expense of the prosecution. [See the previous three letters.] You do extremely well in receiving subscriptions for paying that debt at Birstall. It will lay such an obligation on the Society as will make them much readier to submit to discipline.

You see how needful it is for you to step over into Yorkshire at least once in a quarter. It would be well if you could reach Lincolnshire too, though but for one week.

I beg you would largely show them at Halifax how absurd it is to expect I should be at a shilling expense for their lawsuit. They must not begin if they cannot carry it on.

If Webster's spirit be not altered, and that speedily, I shall send him back to Plymouth Dock.[Eleazer Webster was evidently a troublesome preacher. See letter of Feb. 9, 1750.]

I trust your own soul is not neglected in the multiplicity of business which comes upon you from other men. O be much in prayer! I am often concerned for you. The Spirit of God be your Guide, and His love your portion for ever.

To a Friend [23]

NEWINGTON, December 10, 1748.

DEAR SIR,--1. I have read your letter with attention, and much approve of the spirit with which it is wrote. You speak in love. I desire to do so too; and then no harm can be done on either side. You appear not to be wedded to your own opinion, but open to farther conviction. I would willingly be of the same temper; not obstinately attached to either side of the question. I am clearly satisfied of the necessity of this--a willingness to see what as yet I see not. For I know an unwillingness to be convinced would utterly blind either you or me; and that if we are resolved to retain our present opinion, reason and argument signify nothing.

2. I shall not therefore think it is time or pains misemployed, to give the whole cause a second hearing; to recite the occasion of every step I have taken, and the motives inducing me so to do; and then to consider whatsoever either you or others have urged on the contrary side of the question.

3. Twenty-nine years since, when I had spent a few months at Oxford, having, as I apprehended, an exceeding good constitution, and being otherwise in health, I was a little surprised at some symptoms of a paralytic disorder. I could not imagine what should occasion the shaking of my hand, till I observed it was always worst after breakfast, and that, if I intermitted drinking tea for two or three days, it did not shake at all. Upon inquiry, I found tea had the same effect upon others also of my acquaintance; and therefore saw that this was one of its natural effects (as several physicians have often remarked), especially when it is largely and frequently drank; and most of all on persons of weak nerves. Upon this I lessened the quantity, drank it weaker, and added more milk and sugar. But still for above six-and-twenty years I was more or less subject to the same disorder.

4. July was two years I began to observe that abundance of the people in London with whom I conversed laboured under the same and many other paralytic disorders, and that in a much higher degree; insomuch that some of their nerves were quite unstrung, their bodily strength quite decayed, and they could not go through their daily labour. I inquired, 'Are you not an hard drinker?' and was answered by one and another and another, 'No, indeed, sir, not I; I drink scarce anything but a little tea, morning and night.' I immediately remembered my own case; and, after weighing the matter throughly, easily gathered from many concurring circumstances that it was the same case with them.

5. I considered: 'What an advantage would it be to these poor enfeebled people, if they would leave off what so manifestly impairs their health, and thereby hurts their business also! Is there nothing equally cheap which they could use? Yes, surely; and cheaper too. If they used English herbs in its stead (which would cost either nothing, or what is next to nothing), with the same bread, butter, and milk, they would save just the price of the tea. And hereby they might not only lessen their pain, but in some degree their poverty too; for they would be able to work (as well as to save) considerably more than they can do now. And by this means, if they are in debt, they might be more just, paying away what they either earned or saved. If they are not in debt, they might be more merciful, giving it away to them that want.'

6. I considered farther: 'What an advantage might this be, particularly in such a body of men as those are who are united together in these Societies, who are both so numerous and so poor! How much might be saved in so numerous a body, even in this single article of expense! And how greatly is all that can possibly be saved in every article wanted daily by those who have not even food convenient for them! '

7. I soon perceived that this latter consideration was of a more general nature than the former, and that it affected many of those whom the other did not so immediately concern; seeing it was as needful for all to save needless expenses, as for some to regain the health they had impaired--especially, considered as members of a Society, the wants of which they could not be unapprised of. They knew, of those to whom they were so peculiarly united, some had not food to sustain nature, some were destitute of even necessary clothing, some had not where to lay their head. They knew, or might know, that the little contributions made weekly did in no wise suffice to remove these wants, being barely sufficient to relieve the sick; and even that in so scanty a manner, that I know not if some of them have not with their allowance pined away, and at length died for want. If you and I have not saved all we could to relieve these, how shall we face them at the throne of God?

8. I reflected: 'If one only would save all that he could in this single instance, he might surely feed or clothe one of his brethren, and perhaps save one life. What, then, might be done, if ten thousand, or one thousand, or only five hundred, would do it--yea, if half that number should say, "I will compute this day what I have expended in tea, weekly or yearly; I will immediately enter on cheaper food; and whatever is saved hereby I will put into that poor-box weekly, to feed the hungry and to clothe the naked "! I am mistaken, if any among us need want either food or raiment from that hour.'

9. I thought farther: 'It is said--nay, many tell me to my face--I can persuade this people to anything. I will make a fair trial. If I cannot persuade them, there may be some good effect. All who do not wilfully shut their eyes will see that I have no such influence as they supposed. If I can persuade any number, many who are now weak or sick will be restored to health and strength; many will pay those debts which others, perhaps equally poor, can but ill afford to lose; many will be less straitened in their own families; many, by helping their neighbour, will lay up for themselves treasures in heaven.'

10. Immediately it struck into my mind, 'But example must go before precept; therefore I must not plead an exemption for myself from a daily practice of twenty-seven years. I must begin.' I did so. I left it off myself in August 1746. And I have now had sufficient time to try the effects, which have fully answered my expectation. My paralytic complaints are all gone; my hand is steady as it was at fifteen, although I must expect that or other weaknesses soon, as I decline into the vale of years. And so considerable a difference do I find in my expense, that I can make it appear, from the accounts now in being, in only those four families at London, Bristol, Kingswood, and Newcastle, I save upwards of fifty pounds a year.

11. The first to whom I explained these things at large, and whom I advised to set the same example to their brethren, were a few of those who rejoice to assist my brother and me as our sons in the gospel. A week after, I proposed it to about forty of those whom I believed to be strong in faith; and the next morning to about sixty more, entreating them all to speak their minds freely. They did so; and in the end saw the good which might ensue, yielded to the force of Scripture and reason, and resolved (all but two or three) by the grace of God to make the trial without delay.

12. In a short time I proposed it, but with all the tenderness I could, first to the body of those who are supposed to have living faith, and, after staying a few days (that I might judge the better how to speak), to the whole Society. It soon appeared (as I doubted not but it would) how far these were from calling me Rabbi, from implicitly submitting to my judgement, or implicitly following my example. Objections rose in abundance from all sides. These I now proceed to consider; whether they are advanced by you or by others, and whether pointed at the premises or directly at the conclusion.

13. 1. Some objected: 'Tea is not unwholesome at all; not in any kind prejudicial to health.'

To these I reply: (1) You should not be so sure of this. Even that casual circumstance, related in Dr. Short's history [Discourses on Tea, &c. (1750, pp. 4, 17), by Thomas Short, M.D. (1690? -1772), a medical writer, who practiced at Sheffield.] of it, might incline you to doubt--namely, that 'while the Chinese dry the leaves, and turn it with their hands upon the tin plates, the moisture of them is so extremely corrosive, that it eats into the flesh, if not wiped off immediately.' It is not probable, then, that what remains in the leaves is quite friendly to the human body. (2) Many eminent physicians have declared their judgement that it is prejudicial in several respects; that it gives rise to numberless disorders, particularly those of the nervous kind; and that, if frequently used by those of weak nerves, it is no other than a slow poison (3) If all physicians were silent in the case, yet plain fact is against you. And this speaks loud enough. It was prejudicial to my health; it is so to many at this day.

14. 'But it is not so to me,' says the objector. 'Why, then should I leave it off?'

I answer: (1) To give an example to those to whom it is undeniably prejudicial. (2) That you may have the more wherewith to give bread to the hungry end raiment to the naked.

15. 'But I cannot leave it off; for it helps my health. Nothing else will agree with me.'

I answer: (1) Will nothing else agree with you? I know not how to believe that. I suppose your body is much of the same kind with that of your great-grandmother. And do you think nothing else agreed with her or with any of her progenitors? What poor, puling, sickly things must all the English then have been, till within these hundred years! But you know they were not so. Other things agreed with them; and why not with you? (2) If, in fact, nothing else will, if tea has already weakened your stomach and impaired your digestion to such a degree, it has hurt you more than you are aware. It has prejudiced your health extremely. You have need to abhor it as deadly poison and to renounce it from this very hour. So says a drinker of drams: 'Nothing else will agree with me. Nothing else will raise my spirits. I can digest nothing without them.' Indeed! Is it so? Then touch no more, if you love your life. (3) Suppose nothing else agrees with you at first; yet in a while many things will. When I first left off tea, I was half asleep all day long; my head ached from morning to night; I could not remember a question asked, even till I could return an answer. But in a week's time all these inconveniences were gone, and have never returned since. (4) I have not found one single exception yet; not one person in all England, with whom, after sufficient trial made, nothing else would agree.

It is therefore well worth while for you to try again, if you have any true regard for your own health, or any compassion for those who are perishing all around you for want of the common necessaries of life.

16. If you are sincere in this plea, if you do not talk of your health while the real objection is your inclination, make a fair trial thus: (1) Take half a pint of milk every morning, with a little bread, not boiled, but warmed only; a man in tolerable health might double the quantity. (2) If this is too heavy, add as much water, and boil it together, with a spoonful of oatmeal. (3) If this agrees not, try half a pint, or a little more, of water-gruel, neither thick nor thin; not sweetened, for that may be apt to make him sick, but with a very little butter, salt, and bread. (4) If this disagrees, try sage, green balm, mint, or pennyroyal tea, infusing only so much of the herb as just to change the colour of the water. (5) Try two or three of these mixed in various proportions. (6) Try ten or twelve other English herbs. (7) Try foltron, a mixture of herbs to be had at many grocers', far healthier as well as cheaper than tea. (8) Try cocoa. If, after having tried each of these for a week or ten days, you find none of them will agree with your constitution, then use (weak green) tea again; but at the same time know that your having used it so long has brought you near the chambers of death.

17. II. 'I do not know,' says another, 'but tea may hurt me: but there is nothing saved by leaving it off; for I am sure other things cost full as much.'

I pray, what other things? Sack and sugar costs more; and so do ragouts, or pheasants, or ortolans. But what is this to the point? We do not say all things are cheaper; but any of the things above mentioned are--at least, if prudently managed. Therefore, if you really desire to save what you can, you will drink tea no more.

18. 'Well, I do not design to buy any more myself; but where others drink it, there is nothing saved by my abstaining.'

I answer: (1) Yes, something is saved, though but little; especially if you tell them before, 'I shall not drink tea.' And many a little, you know, put together will make a great sum. (2) If the whole saved were ever so little, if it were but two mites, when you save this for God and your brethren's sake, it is much. (3) Your example in saving a little now may occasion the saving of more by-and-by. (4) It is not a little advantage which you may reap even now to your own soul, by habituating yourself not to be ashamed of being singular in a good thing; by taking up your cross, and denying yourself even in so small an instance; and by accustoming yourself to act on rational grounds, whether in a little matter or a great.

19. 'But what is saved will be no better employed.'

Do you say this with regard to yourself or others? If with regard to yourself, it will be your fault if you do not employ it better. I do not say you will, but I am sure you may; and if you do not, it is your own sin and your own shame. If with regard to others, how do you know that it will not be employed better? I trust it will. It cannot be denied that it often has and that it always may be. And it is highly probable all who save anything from the best motive will lay it out to the best purpose.

20. 'As to example,' you say, 'I have lately been without hopes of doing any good by it.'

I suppose you mean, because so exceeding few will follow either your example or mine. I am sorry for it. This only gives me a fresh objection to this unwholesome, expensive food--viz. that it has too much hold on the hearts of them that use it; that, to use a scriptural phrase, they are 'under the power of' this trifle. If it be so, were there no other reason than this, they ought to throw it away at once; else they no more regard St. Paul than they do you or me: for his rule is home to the point,--'All things are lawful for me; but I will not be brought under the power of any.' Away with it, then, however lawful (that is, though it were wholesome as well as cheap), if you are already brought 'under the power of' it.

And the fewer they are who follow this rule the greater reason there is that you should add one example more to those few. Though (blessed be God) they are not so few as you suppose. I have met with very many in London who use less of it than they had done for many years, and above an hundred who have plucked out the right eye and cast it from them, who wholly abstain from it.

21. You add, 'But I am equally, yea abundantly, more concerned to set an example in all Christian behaviour.'

I grant it: this, therefore, 'ought you to have done, and not to leave the other undone.'

22. But 'one day,' you add, 'I saw your brother drink tea, which he said was for fear of giving offence.'

I answer: (1) Learn from hence to follow neither his nor my practice implicitly; but weigh the reason of each, and then follow reason, wheresoever it stands. But (2) Examine your heart, and beware inclination does not put on the shape of reason. (3) You see with your own eyes I do not drink it at all, and yet I seldom give offence thereby. It is not, then, the bare abstaining, but the manner of doing it, which usually gives the offence. (4) There is therefore a manner wherein you may do it too, and yet give no more offence than I. For instance: If any ask you, simply reply, 'I do not drink tea; I never use it.' If they say, 'Why, you did drink it'; answer, 'I did so; but I have left it off a considerable time.' Those who have either good nature or good manners will say no more. But if any should impertinently add, 'Oh, but why did you leave it off?' answer mildly, 'Because I thought watergruel (suppose) was wholesomer as well as cheaper.' If they, with still greater ill-manners and impertinence, go on, 'What, you do it because Mr. Wesley bids you'; reply calmly, 'True; I do it because Mr. Wesley, on good reasons, advises me so to do.' If they add the trite cant phrase, 'What, you follow man!' reply, without any emotion, 'Yes, I follow any man, you or him or any other, who gives me good reason for so doing.' If they persist in cavilling, close the whole matter with, 'I neither drink it nor dispute about it.'

23. If you proceed in this manner, with mildness and love, exceeding few will be offended. 'But you ought,' say some, 'to give up an indifferent thing, rather than give an offence to any. So St. Paul: "I will eat no flesh whilst the world standeth, lest I make my brother to offend."' I reply: This is not an indifferent thing, if it affects the health either of myself or my brethren. Therefore that rule relating wholly to things indifferent is not applicable to this case. Would St. Paul have said, 'I will drink drams while the world standeth, lest I make my brother to offend'? 'But tea is not so hurtful as drams.' I do not believe it is. But it is hurtful; and that is enough. The question does not turn on the degree of hurtfulness. 'However, it is but a small thing.' Nay, nothing is small if it touches conscience; much less is it a small thing to preserve my own or my brother's health, or to be a faithful steward even of the mammon of unrighteousness. O think it not a small thing whether only one for whom Christ died be fed or hungry, clothed or naked!

To conclude the head of offence: You must at least allow that all this is no plea at all for your drinking tea at home. 'Yes, it is; for my husband or parents are offended if I do not drink it.'

I answer: (1) Perhaps this in some rare cases may be a sufficient reason why a wife or a child should use this food--that is, with them, but nowhere else. But (2) Try, and not once or twice only, if you cannot overcome that offence by reason, softness, love, patience, longsuffering, joined with constant and fervent prayer.

24. Your next objection is, 'I cannot bear to give trouble; therefore I drink whatever others drink where I come, else there is so much hurry about insignificant me.'

I answer: (1) This is no plea at all for your drinking tea at home. Therefore touch it not there, whatever you do abroad. (2) Where is the trouble given, even when you are abroad, if they drink tea, and you fill your cup with milk and water? (3) Whatever trouble is taken is not for 'insignificant me,' but for that poor man who is half starved with cold and hunger; for that miserable woman who, while she is poisoning herself, wipes her mouth and says she does no evil--who will not believe the poison will hurt her, because it does not (sensibly at least) hurt you. O throw it away! Let her have one plea less for destroying her body, if not her soul, before the time!

25. You object farther, 'It is my desire to be unknown for any particularity, unless a peculiar love to the souls of those who are present.' And, I hope, to the souls of the absent too; yea, and to their bodies also, in a due proportion, that they may be healthy, and fed, and clothed, and warm, and may praise God for the consolation.

26. You subjoin: 'When I had left it off for some months, I was continually puzzled with, Why, What, &c.; and I have seen no good effects, but impertinent questions and answers and unedifying conversation about eating and drinking.'

I answer: (1) Those who were so uneasy about it plainly showed that you touched the apple of their eye. Consequently these, of all ot