1743

To Mrs. Harper (Emilia Wesley) [1]

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE:, June 30, 1743.

DEAR EMLY, -- Once, I think, I told you my mind freely before; I am constrained to do so once again. You say, ‘From the time of my coming to London till last Christmas you would not do me the least kindness.’ Do I dream, or you Whose house were you in for three months and upwards By whose money were you sustained It is a poor case that I am forced to mention these things.

But ‘I would not take you lodgings in fifteen weeks.’ No, nor should I have done in fifteen years. I never once imagined that you expected me to do this! Shall I leave the Word of God to serve tables You should know I have quite other things to mind; temporal things I shall mind less and less.

‘When I was removed, you never concerned yourself about me.’ That is not the fact. What my brother does I do. Besides, I myself spoke to you abundance of times before Christmas last.

‘When I was at preaching, you would scarce speak to me.’ Yes; at least as much as to my sister Wright, or indeed as I did to any else at those times.

‘I impute all your unkindness to one principle you hold--that natural affection is a great weakness, if not a sin.’ What is this principle I hold That natural affection is a sin or that adultery is a virtue or that Mahomet was a prophet of God and that Jesus Christ was a son of Belial You may as well impute all these principles to me as one. I hold one just as much as the other. O Emmy, never let that idle, senseless accusation come out of your mouth.

Do you hold that principle, ‘that we ought to be just (i.e. pay our debts) before we are merciful’ If I held it, I should not give one shilling for these two years either to you or any other. And, indeed, I have for some time stayed my hand; so that I give next to nothing, except what I give to my relations. And I am often in doubt with regard to that, not whether natural affection be not a sin, but whether it ought to supersede common justice. You know nothing of my temporal circumstances and the straits I am in almost continually; so that, were it not for the reputation of my great riches, I could not stand one week.

I have now done with myself, and have only a few words concerning you. You are of all creatures the most unthankful to God and man. I stand amazed at you. How little have you profited under such means of improvement! Surely, whenever your eyes are opened, whenever you see your own tempers, with the advantages you have enjoyed, you will make no scruple to pronounce yourself (whores and murderers not excepted) the very chief of sinners. -- I am, &c.

To the Mayor of Newcastle-upon-Tyne [2]

NEWCASTLE, July 12 1743.

MR. MAYOR, -- A message was delivered to me yesterday in the street by one at the head of a crowd of people, to this effect: ‘Mr. Mayor, being informed of the tumult you raised on Sunday, discharges you from preaching at the Sand Hill any more.’

I reverence all magistrates as the ministers of God. Therefore at the Sand Hill I will preach no more. This is my answer to you as a magistrate. But will you not pardon me, sir, if I add a few words, not as one accused to a judge, but as one reasonable man speaking to another When I was first pressed by the Countess of Huntingdon to go and preach to the colliers in or near Newcastle, that objection immediately occurred, ‘Have they no churches and ministers already’ It was answered, ‘They have churches, but they never go to them! and ministers, but they seldom or never hear them! Perhaps they may hear you. And what if you save (under God) but one soul’ I yielded. I took up my cross and came. I preached Jesus, the Savior of sinners. Many sinners of all sorts came and heard. Many were (and are) saved from their sins. The drunkards are sober, the common swearers fear God, the Sabbath-breakers now keep that day holy. These facts are undeniable, the persons being well known and ready at any time to attest them. Last week I was informed that abundance of Sabbath-breakers and drunkards used to wander about the Sand Hill on Sunday evenings. Immediately my heart burned within me to call those sinners also to repentance. I came, and (nothing terrified by their noise) cried aloud in the name of the Lord, --

‘Sinners, turn; why will you die

God, your Maker, asks you why.’

They subsided apace, and more and more began to sink into seriousness. Some gentlemen (I am sorry to say it) labored exceedingly to prevent this; and one particularly, in light gray clothes, went to and fro with great diligence, and gave money to, I believe, twenty or thirty persons, to shout and strike or push their neighbors. Much tumult arose. In the intervals of calm I cried the more earnestly, ‘Turn ye, turn ye; for why will ye die, O house of Israel’ After almost an hour (the time I had first proposed) I withdrew, walking through the thickest of the rioters, who dropped away to the right and left, and could no more bear my eye than they could His that sent me. [See Journal, iii 80-1.]

Now, sir, what an insult it is upon common sense to say that I raised that tumult. Had only these gentlemen (so called) stood quietly, I would have answered for the behavior of the rest, who within one quarter of an hour would have been as orderly and silent as an assembly in a court of justice. However that be, I have now delivered my own soul; and if these poor sheep do continue in sin, and consequently perish, I am clear. I have done what in me lay; their blood is not on my head.

I am persuaded, sir, you do not take the freedom with which I have spoken as a mark of disrespect, but rather as a proof that I am, sir,

Your most obedient servant.

To Westley Hall [3]

LONDON, August 18, 1743.

DEAR BROTHER, -- You are angry. Therefore you do not see clearly. Compose yourself (by the grace of God), and I will speak.

I did think you sincere. I think otherwise now. There is no inconsistency in this.

I have forgiven but not forgotten you for poor Brother Hodges. Do you separate chief friends, and then wipe your mouth and say you have done no evil

You are quite insincere in this, as well as in calling yourself a presbyter of the Church of England. Why, you believe the Church of England to be no Church at all, no part of the Church of Christ. Don't shuffle and evade. You spoke plain enough to Mrs. Clark and to Mrs. Stotesbury and her husband; and your trying to palliate the matter made it still worse, and was a fresh proof of your insincerity.

Alas, my brother! who will tell you the plain truth You are a weak, injudicious, fickle, irresolute man; deeply enthusiastic and highly opiniated of yourself; and therefore a fit tool for those who apply to your weak side, vanity.

The first considerable step you took, after God had put you under my care, without preconsulting me, was the courting my poor sister Kezzy, to which I cannot but ascribe her death.[See heading to letter of Dec. 22, 1747.] What a gross piece of weakness and enthusiasm was this! For you may remember you fathered all upon God! You then jilted one of my sisters, and married the other; and all was by inspiration still. Your life has been one blunder ever since. I pray God give you a sound mind. -- I am

Your true friend and affectionate Brother.

Indeed, my brother, you need a tutor now more than when you came first to Oxford.

Editor's Introductory Notes

[1] Mrs. Harper’s husband died about the time she came to London in 1740. She was with her mother when she died, and was a regular attendant at the Foundery. After Wesley took West Street Chapel, Mrs. Harper lived in the chapel-house (which passed into Wesley's hands in May 1743), and died there in 1771 Mrs. Wright (Hefty Wesley) was living at Stanmore in 1743, and tells her brother that she had ‘long desired to know one thing, Jesus Christ and Him crucified.’ See Journal, iii. 78n; Stevenson’s Wesley Family, p. 315

[2] The name of the Mayor is not given, though Wesley was always careful in these matters. The fact is that John Ord, the Mayor of the year, died on July 1. His successor, Matthew Ridley, was not appointed until July 15. He served for the remainder of the civic year, and was elected again in 1751 and 1759. James Everett says this letter was never printed, but Thomas Marriott gave him a copy.

[3] Westley Hall had come under the influence of Moravian Stillness He had lost his faith, and fallen into serious delusions. He wrote to Wesley on August 16, 1743:

DEAR BROTHER. – ’Tis well if you have not tasted of the gall of bitterness. Take heed that you be not led captive in the bonds of uncharitableness! To profess as you did your generous persuasions of my sincerity, &c., even till now, if you had ever found such witnesses as you pretend of guile and dissimulation, was such a stretch of inconsistency (not to say insincerity) as one should not have suspected had not you yourself declared it! It might perhaps have given some appearance of strength and terror to your weak words, if you had added but the names of such formidable accusers I Pray let me know them, that I may publish them with this if need be to all the world, that so, all deceit and guile being thus discovered, you may find yourself undeceived at last, and own as publicly, yourself aright, nor yet that you have neither known

Your affectionate Brother.

See letters of November 17, 1742 and December 30, 1745 to him.

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