LEADING EVENTS UP TO THE DEATH OF WHITEFIELD

For fifteen years after Methodism was introduced into I Newcastle, John and Charles Wesley were both full of labours. The Societies were spreading over all the country. In 1757 the age of riots and mobs was past. Methodism was organised, and was making rapid progress. Both the brothers were married. On April 8th, 1749 Charles had been married to Miss Sarah Gwynne, daughter of Marmaduke Gwynne, of Garth, an eminent Welsh magistrate, who was a warm friend of Methodism. His home at Bristol was one of the happiest to be found in that city. John Wesley’s disastrous marriage was made in February, 1751.

At the end of 1756, Charles Wesley’s active itinerancy seems to have come to an end. Henceforth, with some exceptions, be confined his labours to London and Bristol. By this means the burden of the Societies fell more heavily than ever on his brother. Charles Wesley had been greatly blessed during the earlier years of the Evangelical Revival. He had the happy faculty of leading his hearers to instant decision. His soul seemed aflame with devotion. H is pathos and his appeal swept away every barrier. No labours had wearied him; no mob had daunted him. Now, however, there was a change. It was not easy for him to tear himself from his family. His health, too, was broken, and in some matters he was not quite agreed with his brother. All these causes seem to have combined to withdraw him from the more active itinerancy.

By the time he thus withdrew his brother’s health was happily re-established. At the end of 1753, Wesley’s friends thought that his days were numbered. He retired to Lewisham, near London, the home of his friend Mr. Blackwell, with all the symptoms of a rapid decline. On the night of his arrival there, “to prevent vile panegyric,” he wrote his own epitaph :— Here lieth the Body of

JOHN WESLEY,

A brand plucked out of the burning,

Who died of consumption in the fifty first year of his age,

Not leaving, alter his debts are paid,

Ten pounds behind him,

Praying,

"God be merciful to me, an unprofitable servant."

He ordered that this, if any, inscription should be placed on his tombstone. Charles Wesley hurried to London, and did his best to take the oversight of Methodism, but he plainly told the Society there that if his brother died, he could never fill his place. After five weeks at Lewisham, Wesley went to drink the water at the Hot Well, Bristol. His health was in a precarious state for a whole year, but he was then able to resume his itinerant life. This period of retirement was fruitful. Wesley began to prepare his “Notes on the New Testament,” one of the doctrinal standards of Methodism, “a work which I should scarce ever have attempted,” he says, “had I not been so ill as not to be able to travel or preach, and yet so well as to be able to read and write.”

When Charles Wesley retired from the more active itinerancy, there were seventy to eighty itinerant preachers labouring in the United Kingdom. These coadjutors were introducing Methodism into all parts of the country. In the summer of 1747, one of them crossed over to Ireland, where he had such success, that he urged Wesley to come without delay. On August 9th, 1747, Wesley, therefore, landed at Dublin. From this time the work rapidly spread throughout Ireland. Mr. Tyerman calculates that Wesley crossed the Channel forty-two times, and devoted at least six years of his life to Ireland.

Four years later Wesley paid a short visit to Scotland, at the earnest entreaty of his friend Captain Gallatin. He had no intention to preach across the Border, nor did he imagine that any one would wish him to do so. But he soon learned that the Scots were eager to hear him. At Musselburgh, where his friend’s regiment was then quartered, a great congregation assembled, and “remained as statues from the beginning of the sermon to the end,” though they were often grossly inattentive in their own kirk. This was Wesley’s introduction to Scotland.t At Edinburgh one of the bailies came with an elder of the kirk to beg Wesley to spend some days with them. His plans would not permit him to stay, but he promised that his companion Christopher Hopper should come back the next week to spend a few days. Wesley was often cheered by the rapt attention of a Scotch congregation in later years, though he was also disappointed by their apparent spiritual insensibility. Societies were formed in various places, and though they were never large, much good was done, especially in encouraging and stimulating other Churches. These were the chief events of Methodist history up to the year 1757. The relations of Methodism to the Established Church caused anxious debate at the Conference of 1755 and the following year, but that important subject must be reserved for a separate chapter.

Though Charles Wesley’s more active itinerancy closed in 1756, the two historic centres of Methodism still shared his labours. In the metropolis he often stayed for months together, administering the Sacrament to the Society every Sunday, and labouring with great acceptance. His letters show that his ministry was never more blessed than in these days. His prayers at the Sacrament often seemed to open heaven, and the whole congregation was moved by his powerful appeals. About the time his brother’s labours were narrowed down to the two chief centres. Wesley found one of the most valuable of all his coworkers in this second age of Methodism. On March 13th, 1757, finding himself weak at Snowsfields, he prayed that God would send him help. His Sunday work in the metropolis was equal, he says, to preaching eight sermons. The Sacramental service at West Street, his West End chapel, near the Seven Dials, was often attended by six hundred persons. Wesley’s prayer for assistance was answered. As soon as he had finished his sermon at West Street, whither he hastened after preaching at Snowsfields, John Fletcher, who had that morning been ordained priest, appeared to help him. “How wonderful are the ways of God!” says Wesley. “When my bodily strength failed, and no clergyman in England was able and willing to assist me, He sent me help from the mountains of Switzerland, and a helpmeet for me in every respect! Where could I have found such another”

Fletcher was not quite thirty. He afterwards became Vicar of Madeley, in Shropshire, married Miss Bosanquet, a native of Leytonstone, one of the saints of Methodism, and was Wesley’s adviser and helper until his death In 1775. He was not spared to be Wesley’s successor, for which position he seemed so admirably qualified in many respects, but he rendered inestimable service to the cause by that seraphic piety in the presence of which discord died away, and the hearts of the most bitter opponents were melted into love. The share he took in the Calvinist controversy by the publication of his famous “Checks” entitles him to the high praise of being one of the keenest and at the same time most truly Christian controversialists that any Church has possessed. Isaac Taylor says,* “The Methodism of Fletcher was Chris tianity, as little lowered by admixture of human infirmity as we may hope to find it anywhere on earth.”

Fletcher’s help was the more precious to Wesley because he had many troubles at this time. Thomas Walsh died in Ireland in 1759, in the twenty-eighth year of his age. “Oh, what a man,” says Wesley, “to be snatched away in the strength of his years!” Fletcher was another Thomas Walsh for Wesley. A heavier blow than Walsh’s death was the defection of Thomas Maxfield in 1763. In 1760 Wesley says, “That glorious work of sanctification which had been at a stand for near twenty years” broke out among the people.t It began in Yorkshire, then spread to London and through most parts of England, till it reached Dublin, Limerick, and all the south and west of Ireland. Wherever it came, all branches of the work of God revived and increased. Wesley preached on this subject in all his Societies, and was greatly cheered by the quickened devotion of the people.

In London the movement was unhappily attended with a wild fanaticism which soon blighted all its gracious fruits, and gave the Society there a blow from which it did not recover for years. On the last day of 1762 Wesley says, “I now stood and looked back on the past year, a year of uncommon trials and uncommon blessings. Abundance have been convinced of sin; very many have found peace with God; and in London only, I believe full two hundred have been brought into glorious liberty. And yet I have had more care and trouble in six months, than in several years preceding. What the end will be, I know not; but it is enough that God knoweth.” George Bell, who had been a corporal in the Life Guards, professed to find entire sanctification in March, 1761. It soon became evident that this man was a mischievous fanatic. He began to hold meetings of his own, declared that God had done with preaching and Sacraments, and that none could teach those who were renewed in love unless they enjoyed that blessing themselves. On November 24th, 1762, Wesley stood where he could hear Bell without being seen. He prayed for nearly an hour with great fervour. Wesley afterwards told him what he did not like, and treated him and his associates with characteristic moderation.

Maxfield allied himself with Bell, and caused a serious division in the Society. Some of the members went so far as to tell Wesley that they would have no more to do with him, but would follow Mr. Maxfield. A climax was reached in 1763. Bell prophesied that the world would come to an end on February 28th. Wesley did his best to counteract this mischievous prophecy, but it greatly terrified some weak people. Prayer-meetings were held through the night. Some persons remained in the fields, fearing an earthquake. Happily Bell’s career as a prophet Was cut short by his arrest and imprisonment. He recovered from his religious fanaticism to become an ignorant infidel and a radical reformer. Maxfield resigned his Connection with Wesley at the end of April. He took with him two hundred of Wesley’s members, and preached to a large congregation of his own in Little Moorfields. Wesley visited him in his last illness, and preached in his chapel, but, as we have seen, he was never able to acquire him of dishonourable conduct. The London Society lost four hundred members by this deplorable outburst of fanaticism.

Nothing, however, could long check the progress of Methodism. Before 1758 Wesley had visited every part of Ireland except the county of Sligo. He found it had the largest population of any Irish county. He counted eight villages in less than seven miles, and Sligo itself I seemed as large as Limerick. He also visited the descendants of the settlers who had come from the Palatinate, half a century before. They had no minister, and were become notorious for drunkenness, cursing, swearing, and utter neglect of religion. Methodist preaching had been a great blessing to this community. An oath was now rarely heard among them, or a drunkard seen in their borders. In 1760 Wesley found three such towns in this German settlement as could scarcely be found anywhere else. There was neither cursing, swearing, Sabbath-breaking, drunkenness, nor alehouse among them. Most of these settlers were afterwards scattered, but they carried the germs of Methodism to the New World. Wesley’s ministry in Ireland was remarkable for its success among the military. “The first call of Methodism there,” he said, “was to the soldiers.” These brave fellows often formed Wesley’s body-guard. Their officers occasionally tried to prevent their attendance at Methodist services, but they also were frequently warm friends of the work. Sometimes Wesley preached near the barracks, where no mob durst venture to molest him for fear of the soldiers. Sometimes they escorted him to his lodgings, Or cleared a preaching-place and kept order whilst he spoke.

During the whole of this period, from the retirement of Charles Wesley to the death of Whitefield in 1770, Methodism spread rapidly. The Conference that met in August, 1770, reported a membership of 29,406, under the care of a hundred and twenty-one preachers, in fifty circuits. The fiftieth circuit was “America,” where four preachers were now at work. There were a hundred members in New York not included in this return. Philip Embury, an emigrant from the Palatine settlement in Ireland, reached there in 1760. For five years religion languished among the early settlers. But in 1765 the zeal of a devout woman, Barbara lIeck, led them to begin Methodist preaching. Captain Webb, then on military duty in the States, preached in his regimentals. He greatly strengthened the hands of the little Society, and attracted many hearers. He also wrote an account of the work to Wesley, asking for help. In the Conference of 1769 the appeal from America was presented. “Who is willing to go” Wesley asked. Richard Boardman and Joseph Pilmoor at once volunteered, and Methodism soon struck its roots deep into American soil.

In 1767 a great effort was made to reduce the debt on Methodist chapels. There were now a hundred in all parts of the country. The debt was Li 1,383. Wesley drew up a statement, which he sent to his friends, with a short note asking their assistance. L5,000 was contributed the first year, L2,ooo the next. Another appeal yielded 1,700 more, but as new chapels were springing up in all parts of the kingdom, fresh debt was constantly contracted. In 1770 the old debt stood at 5,671, the new at 1,287. It taxed all Wesley’s resources for many years to deal with this difficulty, caused by the vast extension of Methodism.

On September 30th, 1770, George Whitefield died in America. The later years of his life had been mainly devoted to the New World. Since the Calvinist controversy of 1741 he and the Wesleys had worked apart. The breach of friendship was indeed soon healed. Whitefield preached in Wesley’s chapels, and regarded both his old friends as brothers. In September, 1769, he left for America, after spending four years in England. The previous February Wesley says, “I had one more agreeable conversation with my old friend and fellow-labourer George Whitefield. His soul appeared to be vigorous still, but his body was sinking apace.” White-field was greatly cheered on his arrival in America by the prosperity of Bethesda, his orphanage near Savannah. It was almost free from debt. Two new wings had been built, one hundred and fifty feet long, and other buildings were being pushed forward. The Governor and council of the colony received him with public honours.

His tour through the States was marked by all his old ardour. His health seemed to be restored. He lost no opportunity of preaching, and was heard with delight by enthusiastic crowds wherever he went. To Charles Wesley, whom he always loved with special tenderness, he wrote, “I can only sit down and cry, ‘What bath God wrought!’ My bodily health is much improved, and my soul is on the wing for another Gospel range. Unutterable love! I am lost in wonder and amazement!” The day before his death he preached for two hours to a vast open-air congregation. His feelings completely carried him away, so that he was scarcely able to stop. He afterwards went on to Newburyport, where he was expected to preach next day. Whilst he was at supper the pavement in front of his host’s house and the hail of the house itself were crowded with people, who could not wait till the morrow. Whitefield was worn out. He said to a clergyman who was present, “Brother, you must speak to these dear people; I cannot say a word.” Taking a candle, he hastened to his room. On the stairs be paused. He could not resist the appeal made to him by the presence of the eager people. He yielded to the impulse, and spoke on till the candle which he held in his hand burned away and died out in its socket. At two o’clock next morning Whitefield awoke his travelling companion. His asthma was coming on again. He sat in bed praying for his friends and his work, then hastened to the window, panting for breath. Medical help was called in, but all was in vain. At six o’clock the great orator of the Revival had entered into rest.

It had long been agreed between Wesley and White-field that the survivor should preach his friend’s funeral sermon. On November 18th the solemn service was held in the Tottenham Court Road Tabernacle. An immense multitude assembled from all parts. Wesley’s voice was strengthened, so that even those about the doors heard distinctly. “It was an awful season,” he says. “All were as still as night. Most appeared to be deeply affected, and an impression was made on many, which, one would hope, will not speedily be effaced.” He preached the sermon again at the Tabernacle in Moor-fields the same afternoon, and at Greenwich on the following Friday. “Here likewise I trust God has given a blow to that bigotry which had prevailed for many years.” * On January 2nd, 1771, he says, “I preached in the evening, at Deptford, a kind of funeral sermon for Mr. Whitefield. In every place I wish to show all possible respect to the memory of that great and good man.”

On September 30th, 1770, George Whitefield died in America. The later years of his life had been mainly devoted to the New World. Since the Calvinist controversy of 1741 he and the Wesleys had worked apart. The breach of friendship was indeed soon healed. Whitefield preached in Wesley’s chapels, and regarded both his old friends as brothers. In September, 1769, he left for America, after spending four years in England. The previous February Wesley says, “I had one more agreeable conversation with my old friend and fellow labourer George Whitefield. His soul appeared to be vigorous still, but his body was sinking apace.” White field was greatly cheered on his arrival in America by the prosperity of Bethesda, his orphanage near Savannah. It was almost free from debt. Two new wings had been built, one hundred and fifty feet long, and other buildings were being pushed forward. The Governor and council of the colony received him with public honours.

His tour through the States was marked by all his old ardour. His health seemed to be restored. He lost no opportunity of preaching, and was heard with delight by enthusiastic crowds wherever he went. To Charles Wesley, whom he always loved with special tenderness, he wrote, “I can only sit down and cry, ‘What hath God wrought!’ My bodily health is much improved, and my soul is on the wing for another Gospel range. Unutterable love! I am lost in wonder and amazement !" The day before his death he preached for two hours to a vast open-air congregation. His feelings completely carried him away, so that he was scarcely able to stop. He afterwards went on to Newburyport, where he was expected to preach next day. Whilst he was at supper the pavement in front of his host’s house and the hall of the house itself were crowded with people, who could not wait till the morrow. Whitefield was worn out. He said to a clergyman who was present, “Brother, you must speak to these dear people; I cannot say a word.” Taking a candle, he hastened to his room. On the stairs he paused. He could not resist the appeal made to him by the presence of the eager people. He yielded to the impulse, and spoke on till the candle which he held in his hand burned away and died out in its socket. At two o’clock next morning Whitefield awoke his travelling companion. His asthma was coming on again. He sat in bed praying for his friends and his work, then hastened to the window, panting for breath. Medical help was called in, but all was in vain. At six o’clock the great orator of the Revival had entered into rest.

It had long been agreed between Wesley and White-field that the survivor should preach his friend’s funeral sermon. On November 18th the solemn service was held in the Tottenham Court Road Tabernacle. An immense multitude assembled from all parts. Wesley’s voice was strengthened, so that even those about the doors heard distinctly. “It was an awful season,” he says. “All were as still as night. Most appeared to be deeply affected, and an impression was made on many, which, one would hope, will not speedily be effaced.” He preached the sermon again at the Tabernacle in Moor-fields the same afternoon, and at Greenwich on the following Friday. “Here likewise I trust God has given a blow to that bigotry which had prevailed for many years.” * On January 2nd, 1771, he says, “I preached in the evening, at Deptford, a kind of funeral sermon for Mr. Whitefield. In every place I wish to show all possible respect to the memory of that great and good man.”