CHAPTER XIV
WESLEY’S PREACHERS
NO
leader of a great religious movement was ever more happy in
his helpers than Wesley. It would be hard Indeed to find a finer
band of men than the early Methodist preachers. They generally
travelled their circuits mounted on horseback, with saddle-bags,
containing their scanty wardrobe and a stock of Methodist books
for sale in the Societies. The horse was scarcely less important
than his master in days when the preacher’s “round,”
or circuit, sometimes embraced a county or two. For a quarter
of a century Thomas Olivers rode one horse that a friend purchased
for five pounds and gave to him when he went to his first circuit.
He travelled comfortably upon it not less than a hundred thousand
miles. This, however, was a model horse, “such another
as, in many respects, none of my brethren could ever boast of.”
* John Pritchard was less fortunate. His horse became sick,
and the poor itinerant had to travel on foot during one winter
and spring about twelve hundred miles.t The early minutes, which
may be said to contain the “whole duty of a Methodist preacher,”
do not forget one cardinal point. It is asked in 1765, “Are
all the preachers merciful to their beasts?” “Perhaps
not. Every one ought—i.
Never to ride hard. 2. To see with his own eyes his horse rubbed,
fed, and bedded.”
Wesley’s
first preachers had a daily baptism of privation and persecution.
Mob and magistrate conspired to drive them out of the towns
and villages where they came to labour. One of Wesley’s
itinerants wrote to him in October, 1744, about the violence
of the Cornish mob, and informed him that Mr. Westall had been
committed to the House of Correction at Bodmin as a vagrant.
“I pray you,” says Wesley, “for what pay could
we procure men; to do this service? to be always ready to go
to prison, or to death?” Nelson, Maxfield, and others were
pressed as soldiers. Thomas Mitchell was thrown repeatedly into
a deep pond till he was insensible; then his clothes were covered
with paint. These pioneers of Methodism had a hard and long
struggle with the mob. Even after Wesley’s position and
character had begun to command general respect his humble itinerants
had to face much rough usage; but they were true heroes, who
counted all troubles light in order to win men for Christ.
In
addition to all other privations, the early preachers. had a
long struggle with poverty. John Downes’ widow had only
one sixpence in the world at the time of her husband’s
death; John Jones’ clothes scarcely sufficed to pay the
thirty-seven and threepence which his modest funeral cost. At
first the circuits provided for any preacher who laboured among
them. His wife, if he had one, was without any provision. Four
shillings a week• was the sum afterwards allowed for a
wife, with a sovereign~ per quarter for each child. When the
husband was at home eighteen-pence a day was allowed for his
board, a deduction being made if he went out for a meal.
In
1752 it was arranged that the preachers should receive stipends
of twelve pounds a year, in order to provide themselves with
clothes, etc. Board and lodging was found by the Societies.
“Two meals and horse one night, is.,” an entry in
the accounts of “The Dales” circuit, shows the average
cost of entertainment. Up to this time the stewards of the various
Societies provided the preachers with what they needed, and
sometimes gave them a trifle t for travelling expenses. Ten
years after this date, however, we find that Thomas Taylor,
then stationed in Wales, had neither quarterage nor travelling
expenses. He was generally entertained by the friends. Sometimes
a shilling or half a crown was put into his hand. Fortunately
he had a little money of his own, on which he drew for expenses.
His horse, with its saddle and other equipments, cost him nine
pounds. Some of the first preachers supported themselves by
the labour of their own hands; others married wives with property,
or, like Taylor, had a little stock of their own. By the year
1763 what is called “a competent provision” had been
made for the preachers’ wives and a weekly allowance for
their little children. Kingswood School provided education and
clothing for the elder boys. Out of the collection for the
school some money allowance was also made to a few sons and
daughters of the preachers. The failure of many circuits to
raise the usual allowance for the preachers wives threw such
a heavy burden on the Contingent Fund that in 1788 Wesley made
a special appeal to the Societies to provide for those who laboured
among them. The Contingent Fund was raised by a yearly collection
in the classes to meet
law expenses and reduce chapel debts, etc. The year after this
appeal the call upon it was reduced from nine hundred and three
pounds to five hundred and sixty-eight, but the relief was temporary.
In 1790 it rose to one thousand pounds.
The
school for preachers’ sons at Kingswood was one of Wesley’s
favourite institutions. In 1739 the foundation of a school for
the colliers’ children had been laid by Mr. Whitefield,
but the whole burden of its building and maintenance fell on
Wesley. He hoped to make it a school for his people, and for
many years several of the Methodist families sent their children.
In 1748 it was enlarged, and a public collection was made for
it in the Societies, which has been continued ever since. Wesley
prepared schoolbooks for use there, and watched over the religious
life of the inmates with constant care. Every sign of religious
quickening cheered him, but he often mourned that he could not
make Kingswood all he wished. He planted two rows of trees in
the grounds, and lived long enough to preach under their agreeable
shade in the summer-time.
The
three names that head the list of Wesley’s lay-preachers
are John Cennick, Joseph Humphreys, and Thomas Maxfield. Wesley
says, “Joseph Humphreys was the first lay-preacher that
assisted me in England, in the year 1738.” • There
was at this date no distinctively Methodist Society, so that
Humphreys’ help must have been given in the Society at
Fetter Lane. On September 1st, 1740, he first began to assist
Mr. Wesley at the Foundery. John Cennick, schoolmaster-elect
at Kingswood, had begun to preach there in June, 1739. He had
gone from Bristol to hear a young man read a sermon under a
sycamore tree in Kingswood, but the reader did not
come, and Cennick reluctantly took his place. Wesley was asked
to forbid his preaching, but he encouraged him to proceed, so
that Cennick was constantly employed in the neighbourhood of
Bristol. Humphreys and Cennick both left Wesley during the Calvinistic
controversy in 1741. Thomas Maxfield’s name, though it
does not stand first, is associated with the most remarkable
incident in the early history of lay-preaching. He was one of
Wesley’s converts at Bristol. On May 20th, 1739, he began
to roar and beat himself on the ground so violently, that it
took six men to hold him. With a single exception, Wesley never
saw any one “so torn of the evil one.” Maxfield found
peace whilst Wesley was praying with him. He seems to have travelled
for some time with Charles Wesley as a companion and servant.
Once he was left in London to meet and pray with the members
at the Foundery during Wesley’s absence. Insensibly he
passed from prayer and exhortation to preaching sermons. His
word led to many conversions. When the news reached Wesley,
he hurried to London to check this irregularity. His mother,
then living at the Foundery, asked him the reason of his evident
dissatisfaction. “Thomas Maxfield has turned preacher,
I find,” was his answer. She reminded him of her own objections
to lay.. preaching, and then added, “John, take care what
you do with respect to that young man, for he is as surely called
of God to preach as you are. Examine what have been the fruits
of his preaching, and hear him yourself.” The Countess
of Huntingdon also wrote to say how much she was astonished
by Maxfield’s power both in preaching and in prayer. When
Wesley heard for himself, he could only says “It is the
Lord; let Him do what seemeth Him good.” Thomas Westall,
another of the first preachers, also found a friend in need.
Wesley thought of silencing him, but
a pious old lady at Evesham, Mrs. Canning, said, “Stop
him at your peril! He preaches the truth, and the Lord owns
him as truly as He does you or your brother.”
Maxfield’s
recognition as a lay-preacher prepared the way for the extension
of Methodism throughout the United Kingdom. Without such machinery
the Great Revival could only have been local; now its “circuits”
began to stretch all over the country. Dr. Barnard, Bishop of
Londonderry, who visited Bath for his health, ordained Maxfield.
Wesley had recommended him warmly to his Lordship, and the Bishop
told him,t “Sir, I ordain you to assist that good man,
that he may not work himself to death.” Maxfield remained
with Mr. Wesley more than twenty years. He was intimately associated
with George Bell, the Life Guardsman, whose extravagancies caused
so much mischief in the London Society in 1763. Maxfield was
appointed to take a service at the Foundery on April 28th, 1763,
but refused to do so. Wesley had gone to Westminster to preach,
but walked back to the Foundery as soon as he heard this news,
and preached from Jacob’s complaint, “If I am bereaved
of my children, I am bereaved!” Maxfield’s position
as one of Wesley’s helpers had led to his marriage to a
lady of considerable fortune, but he had no sense of gratitude.
In later years, how ever, Wesley did not refuse to renew the
intercourse. He preached at Maxfield’s chapel in Ropemaker’s
Walk, Little Moorfields, in 1783, but he reports soon afterwards
that Maxfield was clearly convicted by the testimony of unexceptionable
witnesses of lying and slandering his old friends for twenty
years.
A
finer man than Maxfield was John Nelson, the Birstal mason.
Southey says he “had as high a spirit and as brave
a heart as ever Englishman was blessed with.” He came to
London to work at his trade, and found peace under Wesley’s
first sermon in Moorfields. He had long been grappling with
the great questions of life, and attended all places of worship
where he thought he might find guidance. He slept little, and
awoke from horrible dreams shivering with terror. Whitefield’s
preaching did not relieve his distress. At last he heard Wesley.
When the preacher ascended the pulpit, Nelson says, “My
heart beat like the pendulum of a clock, and when he spoke,
I thought his whole discourse was aimed at me.” Nelson
soon found the rest he sought. He was lodging with a family
that objected to so much preaching and praying. They even asked
him to seek another home. But before the time came for him to
leave Nelson’s consistency and earnestness had won them
over. They went with him to Moorfields, and one of them was
converted. His employer was pushing on the building for the
Exchequer near Westminster Hall, and pressed Nelson to work
on Sundays, but he stood firm, and won the Sunday rest for his
fellow-workmen as well as for himself. He had not spoken to
Wesley, but he took care to hear him or his brother every Sunday,
and persuaded many of his comrades to go with him. He was so
zealous for the souls of others, that he even hired one man
to hear Wesley preach. It was a good speculation. The man afterwards
assured Nelson that it was the best thing both for him and his
wife that ever man did for them.
Nelson’s
first conversation with Wesley is singularly interesting. The
Yorkshire mason had often wished for an opportunity to speak
with one to whom he owed so much. One day he attended the Sacrament
at St. Paul’s, where Wesley was, and contrived to walk
with him after service towards the Foundery. They talked together
all the way
from St. Paul’s to the farther end of Upper Moorfields.
“It was a blessed conference to me,” says Nelson.
“When we parted, he took hold of my hand, and, looking
me full in the face, bade me take care I did not quench the
Spirit.” This was Nelson’s only interview with Wesley
in London. Just before Christmas he returned to Yorkshire.
There he was led to tell the story of his conversion. Ills opinions
were soon noised abroad, and people of all denominations came
to hold controversy with him, so that his house used to be filled
with visitors as soon as he came home from work. Some would
ask questions, or argue with him; others stood by to listen.
Nelson always took care to have prayer before they separated,
and soon eight persons had found rest for their souls. In this
humble way a great work broke out. Nelson did not attempt to
preach, but read some portion of Scripture, exhorted the people
to observe what they had heard, and closed his meetings with
prayer. For some time six or seven were converted every week.
During all this while Nelson had no correspondence with Wesley.
Peter Böhler, after his return from America, visited him and
greatly strengthened his hands. Nelson was at this time much
troubled by some of the Moravians, and felt that he would give
ten pounds, if he had it, for an hour’s conversation with
Wesley. One night he dreamt that both the Wesleys were sitting
at his fireside. John Wesley said, “I will stay but a few
days now; for I must go into the north, and return at such a
time, and stay with you a week.” A few months later they
did visit him, and he heard the very words of his dream.
A
neighbour who attended his services was going up to London,
and said he would like to hear Wesley, whom Nelson called his
father in the Gospel. He brought a Yetter
from the Yorkshire mason asking Wesley’s advice in his
perplexities. Wesley told the man to say that lie would be at
Nelson’s house the following Tuesday. On May 26th, 1742,
Wesley met this devoted worker. From this time the brothers
became frequent visitors to Birstal, and Nelson’s way was
soon opened to wider usefulness. He laboured in various parts
of Yorkshire with great success; then Wesley called him to London.
His clothes were so worn out in the Lord’s service, that
he was not fit to obey the call, but in this emergency a tradesman
of the parish brought him a piece of blue cloth for a coat and
black cloth for waistcoat and breeches. The Yorkshire mason
was now ready to start for London.
A
neighbour who was going there allowed Nelson to ride his horse
sometimes while he walked himself. In this manner the new itinerant
entered the metropolis. He then pushed on to join Wesley at
Bristol. Wesley was on his way to Cornwall. John Downes and
Nelson went with him; but as they only had one horse between
them, they generally set out before Wesley and his companion
Mr. Shepherd. When they reached St. Ives, Nelson worked at his
trade, preaching as opportunity served. Poor Downes was soon
seized by a fever. Nelson was better able to bear the hardships
of this rough life. For three weeks he and Wesley slept every
night on the floor. The mason’s great-coat made a fairly
comfortable pillow for Wesley, but Nelson had to lay his weary
head upon Burkitt’s “Notes on the New Testament.”
One morning, about three o’clock, Wesley turned over, and
finding his companion awake, clapped him on the side. “Brother
Nelson, let us be of good cheer: I have one whole side yet.”
The skin was rubbed off the other. Hospitality was at a discount
in those days. It was a rare thing for any one to offer meat
or drink to the poor preachers in
Cornwall. After one service Wesley stopped his horse to pick
the blackberries, saying to his companion, “Brother Nelson,
we ought to be thankful that there arc plenty of blackberries;
for this is the best country I ever saw for getting a stomach,
but the worst that ever I saw for getting food. Do the people
think we can live by preaching?” Nelson replied that a
friend had given him a capital meal of barley-bread and honey.
Wesley told him he was well off. He himself had intended to
ask for a crust of bread at Morva, but forgot to do so till
he got some distance from the house.
On
May 4th, 1744, Nelson was pressed for a soldier by an alehouse-keeper
at Adwalton, near Birstal, who felt that his craft was in danger.
For a long time he could gain no redress. He refused to fight
or to accept soldier’s pay, and had to suffer much for
his religion. Neither threats nor promises, however, could silence
Nelson. He fearlessly reproved sin and preached to crowds of
people wherever his regiment marched. At last a substitute was
provided by his friends, and Nelson was Set at liberty. He still
followed his business as a mason, but was incessant in his labours
as an evangelist. In 1750 he was stationed to a circuit as a
regular preacher, and laboured with great blessing for twenty
years. This brave soldier of Jesus Christ died on July 18th,
1774, at the age of sixty-seven.
John
Downes, who shared his horse with Nelson on the way to Cornwall,
was another of the zealous itinerants, who had his full share
of the privations and success a of those days. He suffered so
much from ill-health that in 1751 Wesley set him to superintend
his printing. The journal for November 4th, 1774, pays warm
tribute to the genius and devotion of this noble man. Wesley
never forgot the need of honour due to his heroic fellow-workers.
On his testimony Downes is acknowledged as the mechanical genius
of early Methodism. He did not hesitate to say, “I suppose
he was by nature full as great a genius as Sir Isaac Newton.”
When he was a boy at school, he astonished his master by proving
an algebraical proposition in a better way than that given in
his schoolbook. Soon afterwards he was sent into Newcastle
with a clock to be repaired. He watched the workman, then returned
home, made himself tools, and soon finished a clock of his own,
which went as well as any in the town. One morning whilst Wesley
was shaving he noticed Downes “whittling the top of a stick.”
He found that the itinerant was making a likeness of his leader,
which he intended to engrave on a copper plate. The second engraving
which he made from a folio portrait of Wesley by Williams was
prefixed to the “Notes upon the New Testament.” After
a long conflict with pain, sickness, and poverty, John Downes
died at the age of fifty-two. Charles Wesley visited his widow.
“She had one six-pence in the world, and no more.”
A friend had received her into her house, and her calm submission
and peace of mind surprised all who saw her.
Thomas
Walsh, an Irish Papist, became one of the grandest of Wesley’s
lay-preachers. He had been trained in the strictest obedience
to Rome, but was led to join the Church of England through the
instrumentality of an elder brother, who was trained as a priest,
but forsook Popery through reading the Bible. Walsh heard the
Methodist preachers, and joined the Society in September, 1749,
when he was about nineteen years old. lie was soon rejoicing
in the love of God. When he opened his mind to Wesley about
his call to preach, he was
requested to send an account of his conversion and experience.
He received the following answer
“My
DEAR BROTHER,—It is hard to judge what God has called you
to till trial is made. Therefore, when you have an opportunity,
you may go to Shronil, and spend two or three days with the
people there. Speak to them in Irish.”
Walsh’s
gifts were soon recognised. His roughness of address and his
dialect offended some, but the power of God was manifest in
his preaching. He had his full share of the perils of his new
vocation. Seventy-eight men took an oath to oppose him. Armed
with clubs, they met him a mile from the town of Roscrea, where
he intended to preach, and offered to bring either a priest
or a clergyman to argue with him. Walsh told them that he did
not concern himself with opinions, but preached against sin
of every kind. The opponents were much mollified by his appeals
to their conscience, but when he refused to promise that he
would not visit the place again, they determined to put him
into a well, which they had prepared for that purpose. Walsh
escaped this fate, but was taken by the back and thrust out
of the town when he attempted to preach in the street. At Bandon,
where he was cast into prison by the magistrate, who was also
the Rector of the place, he preached through the window to all
who could hear his voice. The people, in their sympathy for
the young preacher, brought bedding and provision for him and
the companions who accompanied him to prison, and the magistrate
soon found it prudent to set him at liberty.
Walsh
became the Apostle of Ireland. His perfect command of Erse everywhere
won him a hearing, and he bad a large share in the spread of
Methodism in his own country. His knowledge of the Scriptures
was profound. The study of Hebrew was a passion with him. Wesley
says that he was the finest Hebrew scholar he ever met.
He
could tell how often any word was found in the Hebrew Bible
and what it meant in each place. He often attended the synagogues
and conversed with the Jews, for which work his studies gave
him a special fitness. Wesley calls him. “that blessed
man.” He did not remember any preacher who in so few years
had been used for the conversion of so many souls. Walsh died
of consumption in 1759, in the twenty-eighth year of his age.
His incessant study, his abstemiousness, and his prodigious
labours, all contributed to this painful loss, but Wesley always
considered Walsh a martyr to loud and long speaking. He carefully
entreated his preachers to beware lest excitement should leads
them to commit the same error.
John
Jane deserves a place in the record of Methodist martyrs. At
Holyhead, in March, 1750, Wesley, on his way to Ireland, overtook
Jane, who had set out on foot from Bristol with three shillings
in his pocket. He had spent seven nights on the road, for six
of which he was entertained by entire strangers. He reached
Holyhead with one penny left. A few months later Jane’s
rough life closed. A walk from Epworth to Hainton on an exceedingly
hot day threw him into a fever, from which he never recovered.
He spent his last days at the house of a good woman, but no
nursing could save him. He passed away with a smile on his face.
His last words were, “I find the love of God in Christ
Jesus.” His clothes, stockings, hat, and wig were not thought
sufficient to meet the funeral charges, amounting to thirty-seven
and threepence. All the money he had was one shilling and fourpence,
“enough,” Wesley adds, “for any unmarried preacher
of the Gospel to leave to his executors.” Wesley makes
another reference to this devoted man in connection with his
visit to Colne in 1776. He preached to a multitude of people,
and scarcely ever saw a congregation where
men, women, and children stood in such rapt attention drinking
in the word, “and this in the town,” he adds, “wherein,
thirty years ago, no Methodist could show his head! The first
that preached here was John Jane, who was innocently riding
through the town, when the zealous mob pulled him off his horse,
and put him in the stocks. He seized the opportunity, and vehemently
exhorted them to ‘flee from the wrath to come.” Jane
had been dead for more than a quarter of a century, but. Wesley
had not forgotten his labours, nor had those labours been without
the abundant blessing of God.
Wesley
was often compelled to employ men of little or no education.
But he did his best to rouse the desire for self-improvement.
During the Lent of 1749 he met at Kingswood as many of the preachers
as could be spared from their circuits, and read lectures to
them, as he used to do to his pupils at the University. Seventeen
assembled, whom he divided into two classes. To one of these
companies he read “Pearson on the Creed,” to the other
Aldrich’s “Logic.” He also read “Rules for
Action and Utterance” with both. Many references to similar
gatherings are found in the journals. Wesley sometimes chose
a book of philosophy, and pointed out its merits or its mistakes.
When he was not particularly engaged in London, he spent an
hour in this way with his preachers. The work gave him great
satisfaction. In November, 1764, he writes, “Many pupils
I had at the University, and I took some pains with them. But
to what effect? What is become of them now? How many of them
think either of their tutor or their God? But, blessed be God!
I
have had some pupils since who well reward me for my labour.
Now ‘I live;’ for ‘ye stand fast in the Lord.”
In December, 1757, he spent some days quietly at Lewisham in
finishing “A Preservative against Unsettled Notions
in Religion,” designed for all the Methodists, but chiefly
for the young preachers. His “Christian Library,”
consisting of selections made from the best works on divinity,
was another proof of his care for the education both of preachers
and people.
James
Wheatley, who was expelled in 1751 for immoral conduct, brought
slanderous accusations against his brethren, which led the Wesleys
to institute a careful examination into character. Charles
Wesley made a tour of inquiry, with happy results. The charges
were found to be groundless. From that time investigation into
ministerial character has been one of the fundamental principles
of Methodism. It is still made year by year.
Wesley
expected his preachers to be the mainspring of his Societies.
At Londonderry, in June, 1771, he met the singers, whom he had
joined together two years before. The preachers had paid no
attention to that part of their work, so that all Wesley’s
previous care was fruitless. “And no wonder,” he adds;
“for nothing will stand in the Methodist plan unless the
preacher has his heart and his hand in it. Every preacher, therefore,
should consider it is not his business to mind this or that
thing only, but everything.” Wesley was proud of his preachers.
The first Sir Robert Peel greatly esteemed the Methodists. He
often attended their chapels, and most of his Lancashire works
were under the management of members of the Society, who rendered
him excellent service. He once asked Wesley to breakfast with
him during a Lancashire Conference. Wesley promised to do so
on condition that he might bring some of his children with him.
At the appointed hour he appeared, accompanied by thirty-six
of his itinerant preachers.
The health of his preachers often gave Wesley grave
concern. He did not fail to point the sad moral of such losses
as that of Thomas Walsh, who, “by violent straining of
his voice, added to frequent colds,” brought on the consumption
which snatched him away in the strength of his years. John Cowmeadow
was “another martyr to loud and long preaching.” Wesley
tried to save his life by his favourite specific: “I took
him to travel with me.” But it was too late. The poor preacher
revived a little, but soon relapsed. Wesley steadily set his
face against “that vile custom” of one man’s
preaching three times a day to the same congregation week after
week, which he felt was enough to wear out the body and mind
both of the speaker and his hearers.t His journals and the Minutes
of Conference bear constant witness to Wesley’s loving
watchfulness over the men who laboured with him in the Gospel.
St. Paul’s care for Timothy is a true picture of Wesley
and his “helpers.”
Wesley’s rule over his preachers and people
has been branded as arbitrary. Henry Moore, who was well able
to judge, says that his “arbitrary power, so called, was
exercised from first to last in keeping his associates to that
work of God, that wholly religious design and employment, which
they all professed to embrace as their duty and calling when
they joined him. And from this he certainly would not consent
that any of them should swerve. In everything else he was, even
by their own account, a father and a friend.” Henry Moore
enjoys the reputation of having contradicted Wesley more than
any man in England. But Wesley encouraged him to speak his mind,
and only liked him the better for his plainness. Wesley administered a neat rebuke to one
of his preachers, who was irritated because a young itinerant
found fault with one of his seniors. “I will thank the
youngest man among you to tell me of any fault you see in me;
in doing so, I shall consider him my best friend.” Wesley
felt the care of his Societies a burden put upon him by Providence,
which he durst not lay down. He had not sought authority, but
he was determined to use what had come on him unawares as wisely
as he could for the glory of God and the best interests of the
Methodist people.t If he erred at all in the use of his power,
it was in his forbearance. “I have been too tender of these
men,” he once said to Moore in reference to two recalcitrant
preachers; “you should have opposed my receiving them again.
You know I halt on that foot.” The history of George Bell’s
fanaticism confirms Wesley’s verdict upon himself. Whilst
expecting his preachers to be faithful to the great evangelical
doctrines which he taught, he gave them abundant liberty. He
instructed Joseph Benson to say to one of his critics, “I
never undertook to defend every sentence of Mr. Wesley’s.
He does not expect or desire it He wishes me and every man to
think for himself.”
The annual Conference was the great event of a preacher’s
year. The first of these Conferences, held at the Foundery,
opened on Monday, June 25th, 1744, and lasted for the rest of
the week. The Wesleys, four other clergymen, and four Methodist
preachers were present. Mr. Hodges, Rector of Wenvo, Mr. Piers,
Vicar of Bexley, Samuel Taylor, Vicar of Quinton, in Gloucestershire,
and Mr. Merriton, from the Isle of Man, were the clergymen;
Thomas Richards, Thomas Maxfield, John Bennet, an
John Downes the preachers. Downes lived and died in the ranks;
the other three itinerants left Wesley. On; the Sunday before
this first Conference opened, a love-feast was held, and the
Sacrament was administered by five clergymen to the whole of
the London Society Next morning the Conference opened with solemn
prayer.:, Charles Wesley preached with much power, and baptised
a man called Samuel Holloway, “who felt in that moment
the great burden taken off.” The first Conference was thus
inaugurated by a conversion. The doctrines and discipline of
the Society were carefully considered. Every one was entreated
to speak freely whatever was in his heart. The result of the
conversations on doctrine forms a body of practical divinity,
which must have unravelled many knotty questions for the rising
theologians of Methodism. The conversation on sincerity shows
the breadth of tolerance which characterised these:
discussions. “But can it be conceived that God
has any regard to the sincerity of an unbeliever?” Answer:
“Yes, so much that if he persevere therein,
God will infallibly give him faith.” “Is not sincerity
all in all ?“ Answer: “All will follow persevering
sincerity. God gives everything with it, nothing without it.”
Wesley’s name for his itinerants was “preachers”
or “helpers.” The preacher whose name stood first
in the appointment for any circuit was the assistant, now known
as the superintendent, who had oversight of all the work of
the circuit. “In what view may we and our helpers be considered?”
was another question. “Perhaps as extraordinary messengers
(i.e., out of the ordinary way), designed—1. To provoke
the regular ministers to jealousy. 2. To supply their lack of service towards those
who are perishing for lack of knowledge.” Wesley’s twelve rules of a helper are still
cherished as the guiding principles of a Methodist preacher
:— "`. Be diligent. Never be unemployed. Never be
triflingly employed. Never while away time, nor spend more time
at any place than is strictly necessary.
“2. Be serious. Let your motto be, ‘Holiness
to the Lord.’ Avoid all lightness, jesting, and foolish
talking.
“3. Converse sparingly and cautiously with women,
particularly with young women.
"4. Take no step towards marriage without solemn
prayer to God and consulting with your brethren.
“5. Believe evil of no one unless fully proved;
take heed how you credit it. Put the best construction you can
on everything. You know the judge is always supposed to be
on the prisoner’s side.
“6. Speak evil of no one, else your word, especially,
would eat as doth a canker; keep your thoughts within your own
breast till you come to the person concerned.
“7. Tell every one what you think wrong in him,
lovingly and plainly, and as soon as may be, else it will fester
in your own heart. Make all haste to cast the fire out of your
bosom.
“8. Do not affect the gentleman. A preacher
of the Gospel is the servant of alL
“9. Be ashamed of nothing but sin; no, not of
cleaning your own shoes when necessary.
“10. Be punctual. Do everything exactly at the
time. And do not mend our rules, but keep them, and that for
conscience’ sake.
“II. You have nothing to do but to save souls.
Therefore spend and be spent in this work. And go always, not
only to those who want you, but to those who want you most.
“12. Act in all things, not according to your
own will, but as a son in the Gospel, and in union with your
brethren. As such, it is your part to employ your time as our
rules direct: partly in preaching and visiting from i house
to house, partly in reading, meditation, and prayer. Above all,
if you labour with us in our Lord’s vineyard, it is needful
you should do that part of the work which the Conference shall
advise, at those times and places which they shall judge most
for His glory.
“Observe, it is not your business to preach
so many times, and to take care merely of this or that Society,
but to save as many souls as you can, to bring as many sinners
as you possibly can to repentance, and, with all• your
power, to build them up in that holiness without which they
cannot see the Lord. And, remember, a Methodist preacher is
to mind every point, great and small, in the Methodist discipline.
Therefore you will need all the grace and sense you have, and
to have all your wits about you.”
The early Conferences laid the foundations of Methodism
on a firm basis. Its preachers were knit together by their doctrine
and their discipline. Difficulties of every kind vanished when
all thus met face to face. At the Conference of 1751, Wesley
says, “The more we conversed, the more brotherly love increased.”
He expected to hear many objections to the first Methodist doctrines,
but none were raised. “We seemed to be all of one mind,
as well as one heart.” Before the session closed Wesley
mentioned whatever he thought amiss or wanting in any. His
words were received with love and with serious attention, so
that not one seemed to go away discontented.
In 1753 and 1754 the same spirit of unity and love finds
emphatic recognition in the journals. The early Minutes show
that the first Conferences were largely employed in considering
the fundamental doctrines of Methodism and the practical work of her preachers. During the last
twenty years of Wesley’s life the oversight of the growing
organisation occupied more and more of the attention of the
Conference.
Another story may illustrate the poverty of the early
Methodist preachers. Dr. Lyth, in his “History of Methodism
in York,” says that one of the itinerants rode into that
city one Saturday to preach on the Sunday. On Monday he had
to find eighteen-pence for his horse. He had no money, nor had
the steward any funds, so the horse was detained. In this emergency
the steward’s daughter took the ribbons out of her Sunday
bonnet, sold them for more than was required, paid the bill,
and gave the balance to help the preacher on his way.
Thomas
Walsh was buried near Limerick, but no monument was raised to
his memory. Dr. Albert S. Hunt, one of the representatiVes
from America to the English Wesleyan Conference of 1886 has
recently provided a stained glass memorial window to be placed
in the new Methodist chapel built in the Irish village where
Philip Embury and Barbara Heck, the piotleers of Methodism in
New York, resided before they sailed h4 the New World.
