Had the immense labors of John Wesley noted in a former chapter been performed under public patronage, cheered on by all, they would have seemed less arduous. Men may prosecute a reform when public opinion favors it with comparative ease, but with less entitlement to honor than he has a right to claim who does it in the face of passion and interest. The labors of John Wesley were prosecuted in the teeth of opposition such as seldom falls to the lot of man to endure. And what made it more dastardly and cruel was the fact that it was instigated and principally conducted by the officials of that Church of which he was a worthy member and ordained minister to the day of his death.

It is a sad fact, but nevertheless true, that most of the opposition and persecution encountered by reformers and revivalists have come from the churchmen of the times. It has been the Church opposing those who were honestly seeking her own reformation. When the Church substitutes forms for godliness, and devotes herself to ecclesiasticism instead of soul-saving, and place-seeking takes the place of piety, she is ready to resist all efforts for her restoration to spirituality as irregular and offensive.

No sooner had Wesley exposed the sins of the Church, especially those of the pulpit, than the pulpit denounced him; and the press, taking its keynote from the pulpit, thundered as though the "abomination of desolation" had actually "taken possession of the holy place." Then the idle rabble rushed to the front, and mob violence and mob law were the order of the hour.

The flaming denunciations of the pulpits of the Establishment against Mr. Wesley and his people have never been surpassed in the history of the English nation. Wesley says: "We were everywhere represented as mad dogs, and treated accordingly. In sermons, newspapers, and pamphlets of all kinds we were painted as unheard-of monsters. But this moved us not; we went on testifying salvation by faith both to small and great, and not counting our lives dear to ourselves, so we might finish our course with peace."

The Wesleys were represented as "bold movers of sedition and ringleaders of the rabble, to the disgrace of their order." They were denounced by learned divines as "restless deceivers of the people," "babblers," "insolent pretenders," "men of spiritual sleight and cunning craftiness." They were guilty of "indecent, false, and unchristian reflections on the clergy." They were "new-fangled teachers," "rash, uncharitable censurers," "intruding into other men's labors," and running "into wild fancies until the pale of the Church is too strait for them." They were "half dissenters in the Church, and more dangerous to the Church than those who were total dissenters from it."

Bishop Gibson declared that they endeavored "to justify their own extraordinary methods of teaching by casting unworthy reflections upon the parochial clergy as deficient in the discharge of their duty, and not instructing the people in the true doctrines of Christianity."

Even Dr. Doddridge is not at all "satisfied with the high pretenses they make to the divine influence." Dr. Trapp is bold in pronouncing them "a set of crack-brained enthusiasts and profane hypocrites."

The Weekly Miscellany denounces Wesley as the "ringleader, fomenter, and first cause of all divisions and feuds that have happened in Oxford, London, Bristol, and other places where he has been." He manages by "preaching, bookselling, wheedling, and sponging to get, it is believed, an income of £700 a year, some say £1,000. This is priestcraft to perfection."

Further on in life he is accused of "making unwarrantable dissensions in the Church," and "prejudicing the people wherever he comes against his brethren the clergy." He is a "sower and ringleader of dissension, endeavoring with unwearied assiduity to set the flock at variance with their ministers and each other," assuming to himself "great wisdom and high attainments in all spiritual knowledge." "You go," says this writer, "from one end of the nation to another lamenting the heresies of your brethren, and instilling into the people's minds that they are led into error by their pastors."

"It was Mr. Wesley's fidelity," says Mr. Tyerman, "far more than the novelties of his doctrines and proceedings that brought upon him the persecution he encountered."

The former friends of Wesley now turned against him on points merely doctrinal. No one can read the invectives of Sir Richard and Rev. Rowland Hill, Sir Walter Shirley and Rev. Augustus Toplady, without feelings of great astonishment. When Mr. Wesley had passed his threescore years and ten Mr. Toplady, a young man of thirty, attacked him in the most violent manner, employing epithets of the most abusive character. We select the following as samples from the many. Wesley is accused of the "sophistry of the Jesuit and the dictatorial authority of a pope." He is a "lurking, sly assassin," guilty of "audacity and falsehood;" a "knave," guilty of "mean, malicious impotence." He is an "Ishmaelite," a "bigot," a "papist," a "defamer," a "reviler," a "liar," without the "honesty of a heathen;" an "impudent slanderer," with "Satanic guilt only exceeded by Satan himself, if even by him." He is an "echo of Satan."

Robert Hall well said, "I would not incur the guilt of that virulent abuse which Toplady cast upon him [Wesley], for points merely speculative and of very little importance, for ten thousand worlds."

Poets who should have sung for Jesus prostituted their gifts and burdened their songs with the bitterest invectives against Wesley and his people.

One entitles his poem "Perfection: a practical epistle, calmly addressed to the greatest hypocrite in England—that person being John Wesley."

Another poem was entitled "Methodism Displayed: a satire, illustrated and verified from John Wesley's fanatical Journals."

Another, entitled "The Mechanic Inspired: or, The Methodists' Welcome to Rome." As a specimen of this delectable production we give the following stanza:

Another, "The Methodist and Mimic."

Still another, "The Methodist, a poem." In this production Mr. Wesley is described as being nursed on "demoniac milk," and as one who

Another, entitled "The Troublers of Israel; in which the principles of those who turn the world upside down are displayed."

Another, in which the writer exhorts Wesley to

And yet another, entitled "Wesley's Apostasy," etc., in which occurs this verse, among others equally bad:

This may answer for the poets, though their number is nearly legion.

Artists employed their God-given powers in traducing Wesley and his people.

William Hogarth published a painting and engraving entitled "Credulity, Superstition, and Fanaticism, being a satire on Methodism."

Comedians, who are generally ready to lend themselves to any vile work, employed the stage to blacken the character of Wesley.

Samuel Foote, an actor, wrote a play entitled "The Minor, a Comedy," in which the Methodists were ridiculed and slandered.

Samuel Pottenger wrote a play entitled "The Methodist, a Comedy." Another was soon after produced—"The Hypocrite, a Comedy, as it was performed in the Theater Royal, Drury Lane."

Thus pulpit, press, pencil, and stage united to crush Wesley and his people. No means were left untried. Though they followed him through all his active ministerial life, yet the gates of hell did not and could not prevail against him and his work.

When pulpit, press, and stage combine to crush vital Christianity they soon arouse an ally in the ignorant, restless, unholy masses, ever ready to aid in forwarding the work of the Prince of Darkness.

When pulpits in London, Bristol, Bath, and, in fact, everywhere were closed against Wesley one of two ways was open before him—he must either abandon the work to which he was sure God had called him, or he must break over ecclesiastical rules and go outside the churches. He was not long choosing.

A good-sized volume could be filled with accounts of mob violence which came upon Wesley and his people, but we have space for a few cases only, which must be taken as samples of the many.

While preaching at Moorfield a mob met him, broke down the table on which he stood, and in various ways abused and insulted him. Nothing daunted, he mounted a stone wall near by and exhorted the people until silence was restored. He often found himself here in the midst of a sea of human passion, the crowds frequently numbering from twenty to forty thousand.

At Sheffield hell from beneath seemed moved to meet him at his coming. As he was wont to do, he took his stand out of doors and faced the crowd. In the midst of his sermon a military officer rushed upon him, brandishing a sword, and threatening his life. Wesley faced him, threw open his breast, and bade him do as he liked. The officer cowered.

The preaching house was completely demolished over the heads of the devout worshipers. Wesley says: "It was a glorious time. Many found the Spirit of glory and of God resting upon them." The next day, nothing daunted, he was in the midst of the town, preaching the great salvation. The mob assembled, followed him to his lodgings, smashed in the windows, and threatened to take his life. But while the mob was howling without like beasts of prey Wesley was so little disturbed that he fell into a quiet slumber.

At Wednesbury an organized mob went to nearly all the Methodist families in town, beating and abusing men, women, and children. They spoiled their wearing apparel and cut open their beds and scattered the contents, leaving whole families houseless and homeless in midwinter and under the peltings of a pitiless storm. The people were informed that if they would sign a paper agreeing never to read or sing or pray together, or hear the Methodists preach again, their houses should not be demolished. A few complied, but the greater number answered, "We have already lost our goods, and nothing more can follow but the loss of our lives, which we will lose also rather than wrong our consciences."

A few days after, Wesley rode boldly into Wednesbury, and in a public park in the center of the town proclaimed to an immense crowd "Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever." The mob assembled, arrested him, and dragged him before a magistrate, who inquired, "What have Mr. Wesley and the Methodists done?"

"Why, plaze your worship," cried one, "they sing psalms all day and make folks get up at five o'clock in the morning. Now, what would your worship advise us to do?" "Go home," replied the magistrate, "and be quiet."

Not satisfied with this, they hurried him off to another magistrate. A few friends followed, but were soon beaten back by a Walsall mob, which rushed upon them like wild beasts. All but four of Wesley's friends were vanquished. These stood by him to the last. One of these was a brave woman whose English blood boiled over. She is said to have knocked down four Walsall men one after another, and would have laid them all sprawling at her feet had not four brawny men seized her and held her while a fifth beat her until they were quite ashamed to be seen—five men beating one woman!

The mob tried to throw Wesley down, that they might trample him under their feet. They struck at him with clubs, and must have nearly killed him had they hit him. They cried, "Knock his brains out!" "Drown him!" "Kill the dog!" "Throw him into the river!" One cried, "Crucify him! crucify him!"

During all this Wesley was calm. It only came into his mind, he says, that if they should throw him into the river it might spoil the papers in his pocket. He finally escaped out of their hands, and, meeting his brother at Nottingham, Charles says that he "looked like a soldier of Christ. His clothes were torn to tatters." Subsequently the leader of that mob was converted, and being asked by Charles Wesley what he thought of his brother, "I think," said he, "that he was a mon of God, and God was with him, when so many of us could not kill one mon!"

While preaching at Roughlee a drunken rabble assembled, led on by a godless constable. Wesley was arrested and taken before a magistrate. On the way he was struck on the face and head, and clubs were flourished about his person with threats of murder. The justice demanded that he promise not to come to Roughlee again. Wesley answered that he would sooner cut off his head than make such a promise. As he departed from the magistrate the mob followed, cursing him and throwing stones. Wesley was beaten to the earth and forced back into the house. Mr. Mackford, who came with Mr. Wesley from Newcastle, was dragged by the hair of his head, and sustained injuries from which he never fully recovered. Some of the Methodists present were beaten with clubs, others trampled in the mire; one was forced to leap from a rock ten or twelve feet high into the river, and others escaped with their lives under a shower of missiles. The magistrate witnessed all this with apparent satisfaction, without any attempt to stay the murderous tide.

At another place a crowd assembled, arrested a number of Methodists, and dragged them before a magistrate, who inquired, "What have the Methodists done?" "Why, your worship," said one, "these people profess to be better than anybody else. They pray all the time, by day and by night." "Is that all they have done?" asked the magistrate. "No, sir," answered an old man, "may it please your worship, they have converted my wife. Till she went with them she had such a tongue! Now she is as quiet as a lamb." "Carry them back, carry them back," said the magistrate, "and let them convert all the scolds in town!" At Bristol the mob cursed and swore and shouted while the preacher declared the Gospel. A Catholic priest in the congregation shouted, "Thou art a hypocrite, a devil, an enemy to the Church."

These are a few examples of what occurred almost daily, and that for many years. At Poole, at Lichfield, at St. Ives, at Grimsby, at Cork, at Wenlock, at Athlone, at Dudley, and at many other places he encountered similar opposition, until the presence of a Methodist preacher was the signal for a mob. Many of the preachers were impressed into the army on the pretense that their occupation was irregular and their lives vagabondish. But wherever they went they were true to God and to the faith as they felt it in their hearts.

The cause of all this opposition was the preaching of justification by faith, entire sanctification, and the urging of clergy and laity to a holy life. Thomas Olivers tells Richard Hill that the man he had maligned was one who had published a hundred volumes, who had traveled yearly five thousand miles, preached yearly about one thousand sermons, visited as many sick beds as he had preached sermons, and written twice as many letters; and who, though now between seventy and eighty years of age, absolutely refused to abate in the smallest degree these mighty labors; but might be seen at this very time, with his silver locks about his ears, and with a meager, worn-out, skeleton body, smiling at storms and tempests, at such difficulties and dangers as "I believe would be absolutely intolerable to you, sir, in conjunction with any four of your most flaming ministers."

Such is John Wesley in his persecutions. We who claim to be followers of Wesley, and who glory in the rich fruit of these unexampled labors, sufferings, and sacrifices, might with propriety inquire whether we would be willing to endure such toil and "despise such shame," that we might transmit to the children of a future generation the rich inheritance which we enjoy.

The Church needs such men in these times—genuine reformers, men who will dare to proclaim the whole counsel of God, though for doing so they may be maligned, traduced, misrepresented, and their names even cast out as[113]
[114] evil; men who will lovingly but unflinchingly face the incoming tide of worldliness with the old Wesleyan weapons of faith and prayer until holiness triumphs.

Writing to Alexander Mather, Wesley says: "Give me but one hundred men who fear nothing but sin and desire nothing but God, and I care not a straw whether they be clergymen or laymen, such alone will overthrow the kingdom of Satan and build up the kingdom of God upon earth."