When John Wesley was twenty-two years old, he was chosen to be a fellow of Lincoln College at Oxford. He had been living at Oxford during the past five years, but the change from one college to another made a great difference to him. He was taken out of the way of his former companions, and he resolved to choose no new acquaintances, unless he should find any who would help him to live a holy life. He was by this time thought much of at Oxford for his learning and cleverness, and had become a clergyman. He determined to give himself up entirely to the great work of becoming holy. He went to the Lord’s Supper every week, gave a great deal of money to the poor, and spent his time only in those employments which he thought good and useful.
Just at this time his younger brother Charles, who was now eighteen, left Westminster, and came to study at Christ Church. John, however, saw but little of his brother, for just after Charles came to Oxford, old Mr. Wesley, who was now getting infirm, desired John to go back to Epworth to be his curate.
John therefore returned home in August, 1727. He left Charles a merry, thoughtless boy, with no care for his soul. He found things changed at Epworth. His father was in very bad health. Emilia was living at the parsonage in another parish, which had been given to Mr. Wesley. Sukey was married, and, sad to say, to a very bad husband. Hetty, who had been such a bright, clever girl, had turned out very badly, and was married to a plumber and glazier in London. Nancy, too, was married. Molly and Patty were still at home, and Kezzy was just going to be an under-teacher in a boarding school at Lincoln.
John found more time at Epworth than he had at Oxford for reading Thomas à Kempis and other books of the sort, and he now wished to do as Thomas à Kempis had done—namely, to shut himself up entirely from the world, and see nobody. His mother did not think this a good plan, and someone living near Epworth, whom John calls “a serious man,” whom he went several miles to consult, said to him, “Sir, you wish to serve God and go to heaven, remember, you cannot serve Him alone, you must therefore find companions, or make them.” These words struck John as being right, and he gave up his plan of going to live out of the world, in one of the Yorkshire dales.
In November, 1729, he returned again to Oxford, and there he found matters much changed during the two years that he had been away. This change had been brought about by Charles, of whose history at Oxford I shall tell you something before long.
One reason—perhaps the chief reason—that John Wesley had for returning to Oxford was, that whilst at Epworth, he had received a letter from his brother Charles, in which were these words, “It is owing, in a great measure, to somebody’s prayers—my mother’s most likely—that I am come to think as I do; for I cannot tell myself how or when I woke out of my lethargy, only that it was not long after you went away.”
It was from this time that Charles had become quite changed in his thoughts and conduct, and, like John, he had become very anxious to be saved. Like John, too, he thought that the way to be saved was to try his best to do good works, and especially good works which he found disagreeable. He thought, too, that it would be right, and that it might help him in the way to be saved, to go to the Lord’s Supper every Sunday. He talked about these things to his fellow-students. Two of them, whose names were Morgan and Kirkham, thought Charles was right, and that they ought to do as he did. The rest laughed at them, and called them Methodists. This word had been used before as a nickname for people who led very strict lives, and were religious. Charles and his friends cared nothing for being laughed at, and they agreed together to meet for reading, and to make rules for their conduct, such as fasting twice a-week, and other plans by which they hoped to become holy. Their friends called them “the Holy Club,” thinking that to accuse them of holiness, was indeed a disgrace and insult. When John returned to Oxford in November, 1729, Charles and his friends received him with great joy, and asked him to make the rules which they would all agree to keep. John’s rules were very strict, as he thought that the more people were compelled to do things they naturally disliked, the holier they would become. They were regularly to examine themselves diligently, as to whether they had kept the rules, and obeyed every direction in the prayer-book, especially as to fasting. They were to read Latin and Greek together three or four evenings in the week, and on Sunday evenings the Greek Testament, or some religious book. They were to be very sparing in their food at all times, sleep as little as possible, and deny themselves in every way they could think of.
Mr. Morgan, who quite agreed with him in all this, thought, happily for them all, that it would be well if instead of being solely employed in making themselves better, they were also to think of others, and spend a part of their time in visiting the poor and sick, and in teaching ragged children.
One day Mr. Morgan went to the gaol to see a prisoner there. The gaol at Oxford is an old castle; the same castle in which the Empress Maud was besieged by King Stephen, and from which, it is said, she escaped over the snow, dressed in white. It is a gloomy looking old building, and no doubt the prisoners there were very wretched, for prisons were then badly managed, and the treatment of the prisoners extremely cruel.
Mr. Morgan told his friends of his talk with the prisoner, and they agreed that they too, would go regularly and visit the prison, and also go to the poor and sick in the town. No doubt they thought this would help to save them, and so far they were doing harm rather than good, for any attempt to add to the perfect work of salvation finished by Christ, is sin in the sight of God. But it may perhaps have led them, too, to be less taken up with themselves, when they saw the misery and wickedness of those whom they visited; and though the selfish thought that they were to gain something by their labors would often come in, we can hope and believe that they sometimes forgot themselves altogether, and learned to feel for others.
As time went on, other young men joined themselves to the Holy Club, and agreed to keep the rules. Others at a distance wrote to John Wesley, and seem to have joined themselves together in other places, agreeing to keep rules of the same sort as those of the Holy Club at Oxford.
Ten years afterward we find that John, who had kept the letters of these young men, spent two days in looking them over, and he then said, “I found but one among all my correspondents who declared (what I well remember at that time I knew not how to understand) that ‘God had shed abroad His love in his heart,’ and given him the ‘peace that passeth all understanding.’ But who believed his report? Should I conceal a sad truth, or declare it for the profit of others? He was expelled out of his society as a madman; and being disowned by his friends, and despised and forsaken of all men, lived obscure and unknown for a few months, and then went to Him whom his soul loved.”
Thus, you see that these poor young men who were so full of their own works, and hoped by means of these works to please God, no sooner saw God’s work, than they were displeased and angry, and would no longer keep company with the only one amongst them with whom God was well pleased. How little they knew that whilst they were visiting the prison, and giving money to the poor, their hearts were filled with hatred towards the gospel of Christ, and towards His redeemed people. Like Paul, before that wonderful journey to Damascus, they were endeavoring to be blameless as regards the righteousness of the law, and they did not know that their own goodness was a greater hindrance in the way of their salvation, than the badness of the poor prisoners in the gaol, was in the way of theirs.
But God is rich in mercy, not only for the publicans, but yet more for the proud Pharisees, and He who loved Paul, and gave Himself for him, loved, also, these self-righteous young men, and meant in His own good time to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto Himself.