CHAPTER VIII.

WHITEFIELD'S BREACH WITH WESLEY.

WHITEFIELD'S absence from London extended from August, 1739, to March, 1741; during which, as we have seen, he founded his orphan-house, traversed America with varied success, and revived the revivalists of Northampton, as well as caught the spirit of Jonathan Edwards and the old puritans of New England.

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On his return, he soon found occasion for all the faith and patience he had acquired in America. They were both tried to the utmost, for a time. His own account of the new and unexpected situation he found himself in, is very touching. "What a trying scene appeared here! In my zeal, during my journey through America, I had written two well-meant, though ill-judged, letters, against England's two great favourites, The whole Duty of Man,' and Archbishop Tillotson, who, I said, knew no more about religion than Mahomet. The Moravians had made inroads on our societies. John Wesley, some way or other, had been prevailed on to preach and print in favour of perfection and universal redemption; and against election, a doctrine which, I then thought, and do now believe, was taught me of God; and therefore could not possibly recede from.

Mr.

"Thinking it my duty so to do, I had written an answer at the orphan-house, which, though revised and much approved by some good divines, had I think some too strong expressions about absolute reprobation, which the apostle leaves rather to be inferred than expressed. The world was angry at me for the former, and numbers of my own spiritual children for the latter.

"One that got some hundreds of pounds by my sermons, refused to print for me any more. And others wrote to me, that God would destroy me in a fortnight, and that my fall was as great as Peter's. Instead of having thousands to attend me, scarce one of my spiritual children came to see me from

morning to night. Once on Kennington Common I had not above a hundred to hear me.

"At the same time, I was much embarrassed in my outward circumstances. A thousand pounds I owed for the orphan-house. Two hundred and fifty pounds bills drawn on Mr. Seward, were returned upon me. I was also threatened to be arrested for two hundred pounds more. My travelling expenses also to be defrayed. A family of a hundred to be daily maintained, four thousand miles off, in the dearest place of the king's dominions.

"Ten thousand times would I rather have died than part with my old friends. It would have melted any heart, to have heard Mr. Charles Wesley and me weeping, after prayer, that, if possible, the breach might be prevented. Once, but no more, I preached in the FOUNDRY, a place which Mr. John Wesley had procured in my absence. All my work was to begin again.

"Never had I preached in Moorfields on a week day: but in the strength of God, I began on Good Friday, and continued twice a day, walking backward and forward from Leadenhall, for some time preaching under one of the trees; and had the mortification to see numbers of my spiritual children, who but a twelvemonth ago would have plucked out their eyes for me, running by me whilst preaching, disdaining so much as to look at me; and some of them putting their fingers in their ears, that they might not hear one word I said.

"A like scene opened at Bristol, where I was denied preaching in the house I had founded.

"Busybodies on both sides blew up the coals. A breach ensued. But as both sides differed in judgment, not in affection, and aimed at the glory of our common Lord, (though we hearkened too much to tale-bearers on both sides,) we were kept from anathematizing each other, and went on in our usual way; being agreed in one point, endeavouring to convert souls to the ever-blessed Mediator."

Gillies records all this without comment or explanation. Watson, in his "Life of Wesley," sums up the whole history of the breach in a single paragraph. Southey explains the real grounds of the rupture, but with equal contempt for Wesley's doctrine of perfection, and for Whitefield's doctrine of election. The separation of Whitefield and Wesley led, however, to results too momentous to be thus treated. Whilst,

therefore, I have no inclination to revive controversies, which time has laid asleep, nor to perpetuate painful recollections of good men, I must register instructive facts, however offensive they may be to the adherents of Calvinistic or Wesleyan methodism. The breach between their founders may well teach a solemn lesson to both.

Neither Whitefield nor Wesley appears to have understood Calvinism, when they began to preach, the one for and the other against it. Indeed, Whitefield assured Wesley, when they began to differ, that he had never read a page of Calvin; and if Wesley read him through the same spectacles he wore when reading the works of Calvinists,-of whom he wrote thus to Whitefield, "No baptist or presbyterian writer, I have read, knew any thing of the liberties of Christ,"-his knowledge of the question may well be doubted. Whitefield's retort on this occasion, although sharp, was not uncourteous: "What! neither Bunyan, Henry, Flavel, Halyburton, nor any of the New England and Scots divines, (know any thing of the liberties of Christ?) See, dear sir, what narrow-spiritedness and want of charity arise out of your principles; and then do not cry out against election any more, on account of its being destructive of meekness and love." Answer to Wesley's Sermon on Free Grace.

The sermon which led to this controversy had a curious origin. The Wesleys had threatened (perhaps playfully at first) to "drive John Calvin out of Bristol." This led some one to charge Wesley, in a letter, with not preaching the gospel-because he did not preach up election; a charge which, at the time, was equally applicable to Whitefield: for although his creed was somewhat Calvinistic from the first, he did not preach up election, until Wesley began to preach it down. This is no conjecture. He appeals to Wesley himself thus: "For Christ's sake, if possible, dear sir, never speak against election in your sermons; no one can say that I ever mentioned it in public discourses, whatever my private sentiments may be. For Christ's sake, let us not be divided amongst ourselves. Nothing will so much prevent a division, as your being silent on that head."

Wesley met this solemn adjuration, and many like it, by the mock solemnity of "drawing lots," to determine the question of silence or assault. The lot was, " preach and print;" and he did both forthwith. He did not publish, however, until Whitefield had gone to America. So far he yielded to

his friend's remonstrances, contenting himself, for a time, with calling election a "doctrine of devils."

This sortilege was practised at Bristol; and it reminded Whitefield of the wrong lot," which Wesley had formerly drawn, when their vessels were in sight in the Channel. Accordingly, in answering the lot-sermon, Whitefield told the story of the lot-letter. He has been much blamed for publishing this private transaction. Indeed, he blames himself heavily. It was done with compunction at the time; and afterwards, he thus deplored it: "My mentioning Mr. Wesley's casting a lot on a private occasion, known only to God and ourselves, has put me to great pain. It was wrong in me to publish a private transaction to the world; and very illjudged to think the glory of God could be promoted by exposing my friend unnecessarily. For this I have asked both God and him pardon, years ago. And though I believe both have forgiven me, yet I believe I shall never be able to forgive myself. As it was a public fault, I think it should be publicly acknowledged; and I thank a kind Providence for giving me this opportunity of doing it." Answer to Lavington. Dr. Southey says truly, that this manner of referring to the subject does Whitefield "honour." I feel this: and yet, unless Wesley's feelings were very much wounded by the disclosure, I do not see the necessity of so much self-condemnation and self-abasement. For my own part, at least, I should have preferred either more, or less, confession on the occasion.— Whitefield played at sortilege as well as Wesley, although in another way. His Letter was not like the sermon, written in obedience to a drawn lot; but still, it was determined by a mystic reason. He says, "I am apt to think one reason why God should so suffer you to be deceived was, that hereby a special obligation should be laid on me, faithfully to declare the Scriptural doctrine of election." What is this, but impulse versus lot? For, at the time, Whitefield was incapable of declaring that doctrine faithfully, if he mean by faithfully, Scripturally. This he proved, by declaring in his Letter, that "without doubt, the doctrine of election and reprobation must stand or fall together :" a fallacy he soon saw through. A lot to preach against election could not be a greater fallacy, than a "special" call to contend for reprobation. Well might Wesley, if he had understood the sovereignty of grace, have retorted on Whitefield: he contented himself, however, with tearing the Letter before his congregation. "I will just do what I believe Mr. Whitefield would, were he here himself:'

he tore it in pieces. Every person present followed his example." Southey's Wesley.

Who else believes that Whitefield would have thus torn his own Letter? None but those who believe that Wesley would have torn his "lot," when he drew it. Whitefield might, indeed, have torn the printed copy, because it was printed without his consent, and published in his absence, by officious friends; but, in the sense of retracting it, he would no more have torn it than he would have torn the Thirty-nine Articles. It was a pitiful pretence, although a dexterous shift, to say that he would have been his own executioner. He was quite capable of tearing Wesley's "lot," had that been surreptitiously thrust upon his friends, to bias their judgment; for he was as off-hand as he was warm and honest, whenever he deemed the honour of God at stake.

It is because I never heard that Wesley humbled himself at all for this summary and insulting treatment of the Letter, that I think Whitefield too humble for his treatment of the lot. I think with Dr. Southey, that it "does him honour;" but as Wesley was evidently more mortified than hurt by the disclosure, and as he amply retaliated, I do not see where the dishonour would have been, had the humiliation been less. Whitefield had not published the Letter, nor was he aware of its publication. Dr. Southey is quite correct in saying, that, although it was certainly intended for publication, yet "there seems to have been a hope in Whitefield's mind, that the effect which its perusal would produce might render publication needless." Thus Wesley might have taken the sting out of it, by humbling himself for drawing lots; but as he did not tear his lot along with the Letter, it was not very unfair to let the world know something of the secret of his attack on Calvinism. Indeed, I doubt if it would have been honest to the public, or fair to the cause of truth, to have concealed this process of sortilege altogether. I do not even see how Whitefield could have dealt so gently with Wesley, as by simply stating the facts. He could not forget in answering the sermon, that the author of it believed himself divinely warranted to publish it. That supposed warrant had to be invalidated. By what? If not by facts, who does not see that arguments would have implied heavier reflections upon Wesley's judgment, and subjected him to the suspicion of a presumption worse than that of the old lottery?

This transaction was made so much of at the time, that I