It was while he was a member of Lincoln College that that unparalleled religious career of Mr. Wesley, which has always been regarded as the most wonderful movement of modern times, began. "Whoever studies the simplicity of its beginning, the rapidity of its growth, the stability of its institutions, its present vitality and activity, its commanding position and prospective greatness, must confess the work to be not of man, but of God."

The heart of the youthful collegian was profoundly stirred by the reading of the Christian Pattern, by Thomas À Kempis, and Holy Living and Dying by Jeremy Taylor. He learned from the former "that simplicity of intention and purity of affection were the wings of the soul, without which he could never ascend to God;" and on reading the latter he instantly resolved to dedicate all his life to God. He was convinced that there was no medium; every part must be a sacrifice to either God or himself. From this time his whole life was changed. How much he owed under God to these two works eternity alone will reveal. Law's Call and Perfection greatly aided him.

A little band was formed of such as professed to seek for all the mind of Christ. They commenced with four; soon their number increased to six, then to eight, and so on. Their object was purely mutual profit. They read the classics on week days and divinity on the Sabbath. They prayed, fasted, visited the sick, the poor, the imprisoned. They were near to administer religious consolation to criminals in the hour of their execution. The names of these remarkable religious reformers were: John and Charles Wesley, Robert Kirkham, William Morgan, George Whitefield, John Clayton, T. Broughton, B. Ingham, J. Harvey, J. Whitelamb, W. Hall, J. Gambold, C. Kinchin, W. Smith, Richard Hutchins, Christopher Atkinson, and Messrs. Salmon, Morgan, Boyce, and others.

As might have been expected, they were ridiculed and lampooned by those who differed from them, and who could not comprehend the motive to such a religious life. They were called in derision "Sacramentarians," "Bible Bigots," "Bible Moths," "The Holy Club," "The Godly Club," "Supererogation Men," and finally "Methodists." Their strict, methodical lives in the arrangement of their studies and the improvement of their time, their serious deportment and close attention to religious duties, caused a jovial friend of Charles Wesley to say, "Why, here is a new sect of Methodists springing up!" alluding to an ancient school of physicians, or to a class of Nonconforming ministers of the seventeenth century, or to both, who received this title from some things common to each. The name took, and the young men were known throughout the university as the Methodists. The name thus given in derision was finally accepted, and has been retained in honor to this day by the followers of Wesley.

A writer in one of the most respectable journals of the day, in describing these inoffensive men, employed the most unwarrantable language. It was affirmed that they had a near affinity to the Essenes among the Jews, and to the Pietists of Switzerland; they excluded what was absolutely necessary to the support of life; they afflicted their bodies; they let blood once a fortnight to keep down the carnal man; they allowed none to have any religion but those of their own sect, while they themselves were farthest from it. They were hypocrites, and were supposed to use religion only as a veil to vice; and their greatest friends were ashamed to stand in their defense. They were enthusiasts, madmen, fools, and zealots. They pretended to be more pious than their neighbors. These were but the beginning of sorrows, as we shall see later.

Wesley says: "Ill men say all manner of evil of me, and good men believe them. There is a way, and there is but one, of making my peace. God forbid I should ever take it."

"As for reputation," he says, "though it be a glorious instrument of advancing our Master's service, yet there is a better than that—a clean heart, a single eye, a soul full of God." What words are these for a minister of the Lord Jesus! It implies heroic, unselfish devotion to a glorious object. He had discovered the secret of success.

What golden words are these: "I once desired to make a fair show in language and philosophy. But that is past. There is a more excellent way; and if I cannot attain to any progress in one without throwing up all thoughts of the other, why, fare it well." This gives the reader an idea of the motive which governed him to the end of life.

In the midst of these scenes of persecution Wesley addressed a letter to his venerable father, still living at Epworth, asking his advice. The old man urged him to go on and not be weary in well-doing; "to bear no more sail than necessary, but to steer steady. As they had called his son the father of the Holy Club, they might call him the grandfather, and he would glory in that name rather than in the title of His Holiness." These were noble words from sire to son at such a time and in such a conflict.

In years after, when looking back upon the scenes of Oxford and that mustard-seed beginning, Wesley said: "Two young men, without name, without friends, without either power or fortune, set out from college with principles totally different from those of the common people, to oppose all the world, learned and unlearned, to combat popular prejudices of every kind. Their first principle directly attacked all wickedness; their second, all the bigotry in the world. Thus they attempted a reformation not of opinions (feathers, trifles not worth naming), but of men's tempers and lives; of vice of every kind; of everything contrary to justice, mercy, or truth. And for this it was that they carried their lives in their hands, and that both the great vulgar and the small looked upon them as mad dogs, and treated them as such." Such was the beginning of the religious career of this wonderful man. Wesley refers to three distinct periods of the rise of Methodism. He says: "The first rise of Methodism was in November, 1729, when four of us met at Oxford. The second was at Savannah, in April, 1736, when twenty or thirty persons met at my house. The last was at London, May 1, 1738, when forty or fifty of us agreed to meet together every Wednesday evening, in order to free conversation, begun and ended with singing and prayer. God then thrust us out to raise a holy people."

It would be interesting to follow these men and learn the results of their lives; but our space does not permit. We refer the reader to that most excellent work, The Oxford Methodists, by Tyerman. Of Robert Kirkham little or nothing is known. William Morgan died while a mere youth, and died well. John Clayton became a Jacobite Churchman, and treated Wesley and his brother Charles with utter contempt. Thomas Broughton became secretary of the "Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge," and was faithful to his trust till death. He died suddenly upon his knees, on a Sabbath morning just before he was to have preached. James Harvey, author of Meditations, was a man of beautiful character, but opposed Wesley's Arminian views. Charles Kinchin, unlike most of the "Holy Club," remained the fast friend of Wesley until death. John Whitelamb married John Wesley's sister Mary, who died within one year, leaving her husband broken-hearted and despondent. He seems to have lost much of his early devotion, causing Mr. Wesley to say, "O, why did he not die forty years ago?" Wesley Hall married John Wesley's sister Martha, a lady of superior talents and sweetness of disposition. Wesley regarded Hall as a man "holy and unblamable in all manner of conversation." After some years Hall went to the bad. He became, first, a Dissenter, then a Universalist, then a deist, after that a polygamist. He abandoned his charming wife, nine of his ten children having died, and the tenth soon followed. He went to the West Indies with one of his concubines, living there until her death. Broken in health and awakened to his terrible condition, he returned to England, where he soon after died. His lawful and faithful wife, hearing of his condition, like an angel of mercy hastened to his bedside. He died in great sorrow of heart, saying—and they were his last words—"I have injured an angel, an angel that never reproached me." Wesley says: "I trust he died in peace, for God gave him deep repentance." John Gambold became a Moravian bishop, and was so opposed to Wesley that he frankly told him he was "ashamed to be seen in his company." Wesley, however, always held him in high esteem. Of Richard Hutchins little is known, except that he was rector of Lincoln College, and never seems to have opposed the Wesleys. Christopher Atkinson was for twenty-five years vicar of Shorp-Arch and Walton. His last words were, "Come, Lord Jesus, and come quickly." Charles Delamotte was one who accompanied the Wesleys to Georgia. Little further is known of him, except that he became a Moravian and died in peace at Barrow upon the Humber.

Here ends our account of the "Holy Club." All of them maintained a correct life except Hall. They were nearly all Calvinists, and in this they came in conflict with Wesley. Had they remained with Wesley, what a record they might have made! We trust their end was peace.

Go with me to the Epworth rectory. The venerable Samuel Wesley is dying; no, not dying, but languishing into life. John and Charles have been summoned from Oxford, and they are at the bedside. The faithful wife is so overcome that she cannot be present to witness the dying scene.

John sympathetically inquires, "Do you suffer much, father?" The dying man responds, "Yes, but nothing is too much to suffer for heaven. The weaker I am in body the stronger and more sensible support I feel from God." The dying saint lays his trembling hand on the head of Charles, and, like a true prophet, says, "Be steady! The Christian faith will surely revive in this kingdom. You shall see it, though I shall not." John inquires again, "Are you near heaven?" The dying rector joyfully responds, "Yes, I am." "Are all the consolations of God small with you, father?" The emphatic answer is, "No! no! no!"

He then called his children each by name, and said to them, "Think of heaven; talk of heaven! All the time is lost when we are not thinking of heaven." The hour came for his departure. The children knelt beside his bed; John prayed. As the prayer ended, in a feeble whisper the rector said, "Now you have done all." Again John prayed, commending the soul of his honored father to God. All was silent as the tomb. They opened their eyes, and the rector was with the Lord, "beholding the King in his beauty." "Can anything on earth be more beautiful," says one writer, "than such a death? It was indeed fitting that this tried, scarred Christian warrior should pass thus peacefully to his reward."

"Now," said his widow, in great sorrow, "I am appeased in his having so easy a death, and I am strengthened to bear it."

On the very day of the rector's funeral a heartless parishioner, to whom the rector owed seventy-five dollars, seized the widow's cattle to secure the debt. But it was such a deed as his godless people were ever ready to perpetrate. John came to the relief of his poor mother, and gave the woman his note for the amount.

Wesley is again at Oxford, intent on service for his Lord.