long after, when he looked back on this joyous season as the very worst delusion into which he had fallen. "My present sense is this, all the other enemies of Christianity are triflers; the Mystics are the most dangerous, they stab it in the vitals.'

He landed at Deal the beginning of February, 1738, with this confession on his lips,-"It is now two years and almost four months since I left my native country, in order to teach the Georgian Christians the nature of Christianity. But what have I learnt in the mean time? Why, what I the least of all expected, that I, who went to America to convert others, was never myself converted to God." He then proceeded to reckon up all he knew, his learning, ancient and modern ;-in Georgia, in order to converse with strangers of his parishioners, he had acquired a knowledge of the Spanish, Italian, and German languages-all he had done, his labours and almsgivings; all he had suffered, his trials and afflictions, exposures to the heat by day and cold by night, his wearisome and painful watchings. "But does all this," he asks, "make me acceptable with God? Does all I ever did or can know, say, give, do, or suffer, justify me in His sight?" Certainly not; and where he got the notion that any works could justify him I cannot imagine. He did not find it in the sermons of his father, nor gather it from the counsels of his mother; it is not the teaching of the Church of England, it is not the teaching of the Church of Rome, nor of the Greek Church, nor of any that I know of in which the doctrine of the atonement is received as an article of its creed. "If it be said," he continued, "that I have faith, I answer, So have the devils a sort of faith, but still they are strangers to the covenant of promise. The faith I want is a sure trust and confidence in God, that through the merits of Christ my sins are forgiven and I reconciled to the favour of God. I want that faith which none can have without knowing that he hath it (though many imagine they have it who have it not), for whosoever hath it is freed from sin; the whole body of sin is destroyed in him: he is freed from fear, having peace with God through Christ, and rejoicing in hope of the glory of God. And he is freed from doubt, having the love of God shed abroad in his heart, through the Holy Ghost which is given unto him, which

Spirit itself beareth witness with his spirit that he is a child of God."* Herein is contained the sum of the doctrines which John Wesley set forth, justification by faith, assurance, and perfection.

A day or two after he arrived in London he renewed his acquaintance with the Moravians, a party of whom he met at the house of a Dutch merchant; of these Peter Boehler won his heart he took him with him to Oxford, where, of that society over which he had so anxiously watched, a single member only remained. The Moravian discoursed on the way of salvation. John Wesley listened attentively, but understood little or nothing of what he said. Peter Boehler's doctrines would not bear the test of reason, and the Oxford scholar was not yet prepared to dethrone reason at the bidding of a teacher who cried, "Mi frater, mi frater, excoquenda est ista tua philosophia, -My brother, my brother you must get rid of this your philosophy!" They met frequently. The Moravian must have been no ordinary man, for Wesley was quite subdued, became as a little child before him, and in a child-like confidence opened to him all his doubts and fears. "I must leave off preaching," he said, despondingly; "for how can I preach to others who have not faith myself?" By no means," replied Boehler. "But what can I preach ?' "Preach faith till you have it, and then, because you have it, you will preach faith."

John Wesley had often felt, which is not uncommon, a disinclination to speak on religious subjects; to conquer this, as he considered sinful cowardice, he made a resolution, and wrote it out in the shape of a covenant with himself, to use absolute openness and unreserve towards all whom he should converse with. The deep gloom which had settled upon him is observable in this covenant. He makes a crime of cheerfulness; will not indulge himself in laughter-no, not for a moment. In strange contrast this to the wild, reckless, boisterous spirit of the times. Whenever he alighted at an inn, the hostess who came forward to greet him, in return for her courteous salutation, received a word of advice. The chambermaid, waiter, hostler, and boots, in turn came in for their share of an appropriate admonition. To act in this manner

is not a precept of obligation; but it is certain that much good has been often done in this way, and at a period when the care of the soul was so little regarded the benefit must have been greater. A stranger hearing John Wesley address the hostler followed him into the house, and said, "I believe you are a good man, and I come to tell you a little of my life." The tears were in his eyes all the while he spoke, and the traveller had good hope that not a word of his advice would be lost. A man, who sat with his hat on while Mr. Wesley said grace, changed countenance at his discourse during dinner, stole it off his head, and, laying it down behind him, said all that he had been saying was true, but he had been a grievous sinner, and not considered it as he ought; now, with God's help, he would turn to Him in earnest.

In his earlier days, while John Wesley was at Oxford— William Law had been his confidential friend and counsellor -he had thought nothing of walking all the way from Oxford to London to see the revered author of "Christian Perfection." Now it does not appear that Wesley ever went near him, but he talked him and his principles over with Boehler, and the consequence was a letter, which John Wesley addressed to his former instructor and guide; in it he communicated the alteration which had taken place in his views of religion, gave Law to understand that his theory was quite untenable; rebuked him sharply for having shunned to declare to him the whole counsel of God; warned him, on the authority of Peter Boehler, whom he called a man of God, and whom he knew, he said, to have the Spirit of God, that his state was a very dangerous one; and concluded by asking him, "Whether his extreme roughness, and morose and sour behaviour, could possibly be the fruit of a living faith in Christ?" Law wrote a most temperate and Christian-like reply, which the reader may find at length in Dr. Southey.* I shall give one sentence, in which the master notices the censure which the once loving disciple passed on his bad temper: "Your last paragraph, concerning my sour, rough behaviour, I leave in its full force; whatever you can say of me of that kind, without hurting yourself, will be always well received by me."

*Southey's Life, vol. i. p. 138.

CHAPTER VII.

JOHN WESLEY.

His supposed conversion-State of religion in the middle of the eighteenth century-Dr. Warburton-John Wesley preaches in London-Sermons not approved of-Goes to Germany to visit Count Zinzendorf-Wesley makes proof of his ministry-Behaviour of the Church authoritiesOpen-air preaching-At Bristol-At Epworth-Whitelamb's letterDr. Warburton and Methodism - Violence against the Methodists John Wesley maintains his ground-His administrative talent-Watson's graphic summary of John Wesley's journals-An extract on Servetus -John Wesley's universal charity-His death-Wesley on justification -On Luther-His rules for his society-Comparison of his views with the sacramental principle-John Wesley justified in providing for the continuance of his society-Claims of the Church of England on the Wesleyan Methodists-Points of contact between Wesleyan Methodism and Catholic system-Roman doctrine of justification not productive of vain confidence-Stephen Harding.

By repeated conversations with Boehler, tested by Scripture, John Wesley had brought himself to believe in and expect, without comprehending, instantaneous conversion. May 24th, 1738, is a memorable epoch in the history of Methodism ; upon that day John Wesley sensibly received the grace of conversion, which, notwithstanding every channel had been open, and the light of the Gospel had had free course to his heart, even from his tenderest years, had never before reached him. “I think that it was about five in the morning," he writes, "that I opened my Testament on these words, "There are given to us exceeding great and precious promises, that by these ye might be partakers of the Divine nature.' Just as I went out I opened it again on these words, 'Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.' In the afternoon I was asked to go to St. Paul's; the anthem was 'Out of the deep have I called unto thee, O Lord; Lord hear my voice. O let thine ears consider well the voice of my complaint. If thou, Lord, wilt be extreme to mark what is done amiss, O Lord, who may abide it? But there is mercy with thee,

therefore thou shalt be feared. O Israel, trust in the Lord; for with the Lord there is mercy, and with Him is plenteous redemption, and He shall redeem Israel from all his sins.' In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street, where one was reading Luther's preface to the Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter before nine, while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ alone for salvation, and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death.' I began to pray with all my might for those who had in a more especial manner despitefully used me and persecuted me. I then testified openly to all there what I now first felt in my heart; but it was not long before the enemy suggested, This cannot be faith, for where is thy joy?”* He returned home, and was buffeted with temptations; he cried out, and they fled away. They returned again and again. "I as often lifted up my eyes," he says, "and He sent me help from His holy place. And herein I found the difference between this and my former state chiefly consisted. I was striving, yea fighting, with all my might under the law as well as under grace; but then I was sometimes, if not often, conquered, now I was always conqueror."

We will leave John Wesley for a moment, to take a cursory glance at the state of religion in the country at this period. The reproach of ignorance and incapacity does not rest upon the Church of England in the middle of the eighteenth century; she numbered among her sons many prelates, and others, of sterling ability and profound learning. The names of Butler, Hurd, Lowth, Newton, Sherlock, Potter, Wilson, and last, not least, Warburton, would be an ample refutation to such a charge. But it must be confessed that, with rare exceptions the rector of Epworth, for instance—the fervours of the faith were gone, had died out; the Establishment was the culminating point, the apex of the ecclesiastical pyramid. The public services were, for the most part, performed with decorum and decency, the Liturgy never better read, nor sermons preached more philosophical and argumentative.

*Watson's Life.

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