1788. (continued 2)
Reading edition
What had Wesley to say respecting himself? He writes.
“About this time” [December 15] “I was reflecting on the gentle steps whereby age steals upon us. Take only one instance. Four years ago, my sight was as good as it was at five-and-twenty. I then began to observe, that I did not see things quite so clear with my left eye as with my right; all objects appeared a little browner to that eye. I began next to find a little difficulty in reading a small print by candlelight. A year after, I found it in reading such a print by daylight. In the winter of 1786, I could not well read our four shilling hymn-book, unless with a large candle; the next year, I could not read letters, if wrote with a small or bad hand. Last winter, a pearl appeared on my left eye, the sight of which grew exceeding dim. The right eye seems unaltered; only I am a great deal nearer sighted than ever I was. Thus are ‘those that look out at the windows darkened’; one of the marks of old age. But, I bless God, ‘the grasshopper is’ not ‘a burden.’ I am still capable of travelling, and my memory is much the same as it ever was; and so, I think, is my understanding.”
Thus did Wesley take stock of himself.
On Christmas day, he preached at four o’clock in the morning, in City Road, again at eleven, and in West Street in the evening. On the last Sunday in the year, he had an exceedingly large congregation in Allhallows church, Lombard Street; and, concerning this, there is an anecdote worth relating. The sermon was for the benefit of forty-eight poor children belonging to St. Ethelburga society. “Sir,” said Wesley to his attendant while putting on his gown, “it is above fifty years since I first preached in this church; I remember it from a particular circumstance. I came without a sermon; and, going up the pulpit stairs, I hesitated, and returned into the vestry, under much mental confusion and agitation. A woman, who stood by, noticed my concern, and said, ‘Pray, sir, what is the matter?’ I replied, ‘I have not brought a sermon with me.’ Putting her hand on my shoulder, she said, ‘Is that all? Cannot you trust God for a sermon?’ This question had such an effect upon me, that I ascended the pulpit, preached extempore, with great freedom to myself, and acceptance to the people; and have never since taken a written sermon into the pulpit.”[665] “A word spoken in due season, how good is it!”
Wesley’s publications, in 1788, have all been noticed, except his Magazine; and, concerning this, it is not needful to say much. There are, as usual, six new sermons from the venerable editor’s own pen: namely, On Reproving Sin; The Signs of the Times; Man; The Ministry of Wicked Ministers; Conscience; and Faith.
Wesley concludes the first of these thus:
“I have now only a few words to add unto you, my brethren, who are vulgarly called Methodists. I never heard or read of any considerable revival of religion, which was not attended with a spirit of reproving. I believe, it cannot be otherwise; for what is faith unless it worketh by love? Thus it was in every part of England, when the present revival of religion began about fifty years ago. All the subjects of that revival,—all the Methodists, in every place, were reprovers of outward sin. And, indeed, so are all that, being justified by faith, have peace with God through Jesus Christ. Such they are at first; and if they use that precious gift, it will never be taken away. Come, brethren! In the name of God, let us begin again! Rich or poor, let us all arise as one man! And, in any wise, let every man rebuke his neighbour, and not suffer sin upon him!”
Wesley’s sermon, on attending the ministry of unconverted ministers, would never have been written, had he not been pressed by the objections of Methodists, and yet determined to prevent their leaving the Established Church. Its arguments are specious, not sound. It might puzzle the simple minded Methodists; but it would not convince them they were wrong. It was a feeble attempt to get converted people to sit under an unconverted ministry. We conclude with one extract.
“It has been loudly affirmed, that most of those persons now in connection with me, who believe it their duty to call sinners to repentance, having been taken immediately from low trades, tailors, shoemakers, and the like, are a set of poor, stupid, illiterate men, that scarce know their right hand from their left; yet, I cannot but say, that I would sooner cut off my right hand, than suffer one of them to speak a word in any of our chapels, if I had not reasonable proof, that he had more knowledge in the holy Scriptures, more knowledge of himself, more knowledge of God and of the things of God, than nine in ten of the clergymen I have conversed with, either at the universities, or elsewhere. Undoubtedly, there are many clergymen in these kingdoms, that are not only free from outward sin, but men of eminent learning, and, what is infinitely more, deeply acquainted with God. But, still, I am constrained to confess, that the far greater part of those ministers I have conversed with, for above half a century, have not been holy men,—not devoted to God,—not deeply acquainted either with God or themselves.”
Such was Wesley’s reluctant confession; and yet, to prevent what he called a separation from the Established Church, he elaborately persuades the Methodists, that they ought to receive the sacraments from these men; instead of requiring them at the hands of the converted artisans, who had preached so successfully, and who, according to Wesley’s own confession, were, even in point of scriptural knowledge, the superiors of the unconverted gentlemen, trained in colleges, and made priests or deacons—not by Christ,—but by bishops!