HELPERS BUT HATED; “THAT VAGABOND WESLEY.”
“The sacred bow he so divinely drew,
That every shaft both hit and overthrew.
Strange were the charms of his sincerity,
Which made his action and his words agree.”
“BROTHER CHARLES, I am sorry to hear about your illness," said John Wesley, as he entered his brother's lodging. "I had got to Oxford when I heard how unwell you were.”
“Yes, brother, I am unwell," replied Charles; "but as I have been lying here, I have been reviewing my past life, and how I have been led to rejoice in Christ as my Savior.”
“Let us thank and praise Him," returned John Wesley." When we started for Georgia, you remember what awful storms we had during our voyage. The Moravian Brethren on board had no fear of death whatever. We are not afraid to die,' they said; and I felt I had not attained to their happy faith.
“After I landed in America, a Moravian minister asked me, ‘Do you know Jesus Christ?'
“I know Him to be the Savior of the world,' I replied.
“Do you know He has saved you? ' he Inquired.
“hope He has died to save me,' I answered.
“Do you yourself know?’
“I said Yes.'
“Then after I returned to England, Baler met me and said, My brother, my brother, that philosophy of yours must be purged away.'”
Thank God, it was purged away I and on the 24th May, 1738, John Wesley burst out, "I feel that I do trust in Christ, in Christ alone for salvation; and an assurance is given to me that He has taken away my sins; even mine and saved me from the law of sin and death.
“Let us sing together, brother John," said Charles Wesley.
“With all my heart," replied John; and filled with the deep joy of new love in Christ, the brothers, now linked by a new bond, sang—
“Oh how shall I the goodness tell,
Father, which Thou to me hast showed
That I a child of wrath and hell,
I should be called a child of God;
Should know, should feel my sins forgive;
Blest with this antepast of heaven.”
In 1739, John Wesley was talking with his brother upon the awful condition of England.
“Our bishop," he said, "declares that an open disregard for all religion is the chief characteristic of this age; and I believe him, brother Charles. Freethinkers' clubs seem all the fashion now Not four members of Parliament, I hear, attend divine service.”
“Brother John, in London the condition of things is far worse. I hear that every sixth house is a grog. shop. I am weary of seeing the notice hung outside grog shops, that ' a man can be made drunk for a penny, and dead drunk for twopence, and have clean straw to lie upon until he becomes sober without charge.' Oh, what a sink of wickedness this London is!”
“I feel sure that God is about to visit us," replied John. "Whitfield writes me that in Bristol the clergy have shut him out of all their pulpits, and yet the blessing of God is resting upon him wonderfully. He urges me to come to help him, and I shall go at once.”
“Do so, brother John, and God go with you," replied Charles. "When you require help, send for me.”
When Wesley visited Bristol, he was delighted to find Whitfield having wonderful success.
“Ten to twenty thousand come to hear me, Wesley; and still the crowds increase! They forbade me to preach in the churches, but I took to the open-air, and their hatred has not hindered the work of grace. It was a splendid sight to see the rough colliers listening to the preaching of the Gospel, and to see the tears trickle down their grimy faces. Thank God, hundreds of them have been saved by grace.”
“I do not like this new way of preaching in the fields," said Wesley; but before many days he himself was constrained to preach to three thousand people in the open-air, and so began his wonderful open-air ministration.
During six weeks he continued to preach in Bristol, and there he laid the foundation stone of the first Methodist chapel. At last had come the awakening which his father, Samuel Wesley, had expected. Under the preaching of Wesley and Whitfield, and their helpers, a new reformation was to commence.
There were, it is true, many strange scenes which cannot be fairly judged, if viewed in a cold, unsympathetic spirit. Under a vivid sense of the reality of divine things many cried out in agony; nor is it to be wondered at, when the nature and guilt of sin are at all realized. To a spirit absorbed in money-making or pleasure, it may appear ridiculous to be distressed with terror at the consequences of sin; but has the holiest reader of these sentences realized adequately the sins of the most holy day, the most acute distress of mind and body, until the anguish of the convicted soul finds rest in Christ? Hast thou ever been convicted of sin? If not, why dost thou add to these offenses that of hardened contempt?
In 1739, Wesley obtained the Old Foundry in City Road, London, as a preaching station chapel. In that year the errors of the Moravians necessitated a withdrawal from them, and on the 20th of July, Wesley publicly separated from his former associates, and with those who shared his evangelical beliefs met in what is now called the City Road Chapel.
“It is a wrench, brother John," said Charles, "but it ought to have come before. God could not bless us while we were associated with those who were teaching such false doctrines.”
“Yet I hoped by gentleness to change their minds," said John. "But it cannot be, so we must go forward with the work God has given to us and save all we can.”
On the 23rd July, 1740, the first Methodist Society was formed in the Foundry Chapel, and during the following year the work of uniting the converts into a community of societies was consolidated.
“Strengthen ye one another," said Wesley. "Talk together as often as you can, and pray earnestly with and for one another, that you may endure to the end and be saved.”
The class meeting, which has been so remarkable a feature of Methodism, arose, like many other useful agencies, as an afterthought, and from financial necessity.
On the 1st February, 1742, a debt remained upon the Wesleyan preaching-room in Horse Fair, Bristol, and it was decided to attempt to pay it off.
“I love not debt," said John Wesley." Pay your lawful debts. It is as much a sin for churches not to pay what they owe promptly as for a man to delay paying his baker's bill.
A Captain Joy stood up in the meeting and said, "I suggest, sir, that every member of the Society give a penny per week until the debt is paid.”
“There are many of our people who cannot afford so much," objected a member.
“Then put eleven of the poorest with me," replied Captain Joy. "If they can pay anything, well and good. I will call upon them weekly. If they give nothing I will pay for them as well as myself.”
“That is good-counsel,' said John Wesley." Let it be as Captain Joy says.”
“And let all the others do the same," urged Captain joy, and all agreed to the suggestion.
After a while these collectors reported that some of their friends were not living in accordance with their religious profession.
“The very thing I wanted. There is the organization we need to look after our people," exclaimed Wesley. "Let those who collect the weekly money make inquiry into the spiritual condition of their subscribers.”
This was done, and Methodist class meetings were developed. But the progress of Methodism was like every other good work: it grew up by the beneficent effects of adversity. Its leader was once termed by a clergyman "That vagabond Wesley.”
The new effort to save souls was bitterly opposed by many Christian persons, who ignorantly hated those whom they should have helped. Happily they have seen their mistake long since.