His brother Samuel writes hopefully to his father: "My brother Jack, I can faithfully a.s.sure you, gives you no manner of discouragement from believing your third son a scholar. Jack is a brave boy, learning Hebrew as fast as he can."

At the age of twenty-one, while yet a student at Oxford, "he appears,"

says a writer of the time, "the very sensible and acute collegian; a young fellow of the finest cla.s.sical taste, of the most liberal and manly sentiments." Alexander Knox says: "His countenance, as well as his conversation, expressed an habitual gayety of heart, which nothing but conscious innocence and virtue could have bestowed." Then, referring to him in more advanced life, he says: "He was, in truth, the most perfect specimen of moral happiness I ever saw; and my acquaintance with him has done more to teach me what a heaven upon earth is implied in the maturity of Christian piety than all I have elsewhere seen or heard or read, except in the sacred volume." "Strange," says another writer, "that such a man should have become a target for poisoned arrows, discharged, not by the hands of mad-cap students only, but by college dignitaries, by men solemnly pledged to the work of Christian education!"

About this time Wesley became Fellow of Lincoln College, and his brother Charles, who was five years younger, became a student of Christ Church College. He had prepared for college at Westminster grammar school, and was a "gay young fellow, with more genius than grace," loving pleasure more than piety. When John sought to revive the "fireside devotion" of the Epworth home he rejoined, with some degree of earnestness, "What!

would you have me be a saint all at once?"

In September of 1725 John was ordained deacon by Bishop Potter, and in March of the following year was elected Fellow of Lincoln College, with which his aged father seems to have been greatly delighted, saying, "Wherever I am, Jack is Fellow of Lincoln!"

HIS FATHER'S CURATE.

His father's health failing, John was urged to become his curate. He responded to his father's request, but does not seem to have had a very high appreciation of his father's flock, for he describes them as "unpolished wights, as dull as a.s.ses and impervious as stones." But for about two years he hammers away, preaching the law as he then understood it, confessing that "he saw no fruit for his labor."

He then returned to Oxford as Greek lecturer, devoting himself to the study of logic, ethics, natural philosophy, oratory, Hebrew, and Arabic.

He perfected himself in French, and spoke and wrote Latin with remarkable purity and correctness. He gave considerable attention to medicine. In this way Providence was fitting him for the great work of which he was to be the G.o.d-ordained leader. About the time that Wesley entered upon his ministry, by episcopal ordination, and commenced his lifework, Voltaire was expelled from France and fled to England. During a long life he and Wesley were contemporaries. Mr. Tyerman gives a graphic description of these two remarkable men. "Perhaps of all the men then living," he says, "none exercised so great an influence as the restless philosopher and the unwearied minister of Christ. Wesley, in person, was beautiful; Voltaire was of a physiognomy so strange, and lighted up with fire so half-h.e.l.lish and half-heavenly, that it was hard to say whether it was the face of a satyr or man. Wesley's heart was filled with a world-wide benevolence; Voltaire, though of a gigantic mind, scarcely had a heart at all--an incarnation of avaricious meanness, and a victim to petty pa.s.sions. Wesley was the friend of all and the enemy of none; Voltaire was too selfish to love, and when forced to pay the scanty and ill-tempered homage which he sometimes rendered it was always offered at the shrine of rank and wealth. Wesley had myriads who loved him; Voltaire had numerous admirers, but probably not a friend. Both were men of ceaseless labor, and almost unequaled authors; but while the one filled the land with blessings, the other, by his sneering and mendacious attacks against revealed religion, inflicted a greater curse than has been inflicted by the writings of any other author either before or since. The evangelist is now esteemed by all whose good opinions are worth having; the philosopher is only remembered to be branded with well-merited reproach and shame." Voltaire ended his life as a fool by taking opium, while Wesley ends his life in holy triumph, exclaiming, "The best of all is, G.o.d is with us."

CHAPTER IV.

THE EPWORTH RAPPINGS.

IT does not seem as if a Life of John Wesley would be complete without an account of what was known as the "Epworth rappings," which occurred in the home of Samuel Wesley in 1716, while John was at the Charterhouse School, London. They occasioned no little speculation among philosophers and doubters in general, not only at the time they occurred, but down to the present day. A brief description of these strange noises, and how they were regarded at the time, may be proper in this place.

On the night of December 2, 1716, Robert Brown, Mr. Wesley's servant, and one of the maids of the family were alone in the dining room. About ten o'clock they heard a strong knocking on the outside of the door which opened into the garden. They answered the call, but no one was there. A second knock was heard, accompanied by a groan. The door was again and again opened, as the knocks were repeated, with the same result. Being startled, they retired for the night.

As Mr. Brown reached the top of the stairs a hand mill, at a little distance, was seen whirling with great velocity. On seeing the strange sight he seemed only to regret that it was not full of malt. Strange noises were heard in and about the room during the night. These were related to another maid in the morning, only to be met with a laugh, and, "What a pack of fools you are!" This was the beginning of these strange noises in the Epworth parsonage.

Subsequently, knocking was heard on the doors, on the bedstead, and at various times in all parts of the house.

Susannah and Ann were one evening below stairs in the dining room and heard knockings at the door and overhead. The next night, while in their chamber, they heard knockings under their feet, while no person was in the chamber at the time, nor in the room below. Knockings were heard at the foot of the bed and behind it.

Mr. Wesley says that, on the night of the 21st of December, "I was wakened, a little before one o'clock, by nine distinct and very loud knocks, which seemed to be in the next room to ours, with a short pause at every third knock." The next night Emily heard knocks on the bedstead and under the bed. She knocked, and it answered her. "I went down stairs," says Mr. Wesley, "and knocked with my stick against the joists of the kitchen. It answered me as loud and as often as I knocked."

Knockings were heard under the table; latches of doors were moved up and down as the members of the family approached them. Doors were violently thrust against those who attempted to open or shut them.

When prayer was offered in the evening, by the rector, for the king, a knocking began all around the room, and a thundering knock at the _amen_. This was repeated at morning and evening, when prayer was offered for the king. Mr. Wesley says, "I have been thrice pushed by an invisible power, once against the corner of my desk in my study, and a second time against the door of the matted chamber, and a third time against the right side of the frame of my study door, as I was going in."

Mr. Poole, the vicar of Haxey, an eminently pious and sensible man, was sent for to spend the night with the family. The knocking commenced about ten o'clock in the evening. Mr. Wesley and his brother clergyman went into the nursery, where the knockings were heard. Mr. Wesley observed that the children, though asleep, were very much affected; they trembled exceedingly and sweat profusely; and, becoming very much excited, he pulled out a pistol and was about to fire it at the place from whence the sound came. Mr. Poole caught his arm and said: "Sir, you are convinced that this is something preternatural. If so, you cannot hurt it, but you give it power to hurt you." Then going close to the place, Mr. Wesley said: "Thou deaf and dumb devil, why dost thou frighten these children, who cannot answer for themselves? Come to me in my study, who am a man." Instantly the particular knock which the rector always gave at the gate was given, as if it would shiver the board in pieces. The next evening, on entering his study, of which no one but himself had the key, the door was thrust against him with such force as nearly to throw him down.

A sound was heard as if a large iron bell was thrown among bottles under the stairs; and as Mr. and Mrs. Wesley were going down stairs they heard a sound as if a vessel of silver were poured upon Mrs. Wesley's breast and ran jingling down to her feet; and at another time a noise as if all the pewter were thrown about the kitchen. But on examination all was found undisturbed.

The dog, a large mastiff, seemed as much disturbed by these noises as the family. On their approach he would run to Mr. and Mrs. Wesley, seeking shelter between them. While the disturbances continued the dog would bark and leap, and snap on one side and on the other, and that frequently before any person in the room heard any noise at all. But after two or three days he used to tremble and creep away before the noise began; and by this the family knew of its approach. Footsteps were heard in all parts of the house, from cellar to garret. Groans and every sort of noise were heard all over the house too numerous to relate. Whenever it was attributed to rats and mice the noises would become louder and fiercer.

These disturbances continued for some four months and then subsided, except that some members of the family were annoyed by them for several years.

Mr. Wesley was frequently urged to quit the parsonage. His reply was eminently characteristic: "No," said he, "let the devil flee from me. I will never flee from the devil."

Every effort was made to discover the cause of these disturbances, but without satisfactory results, save that all believed they were preternatural. The whole family were unanimous in the belief that it was satanic.

A full account of these noises was prepared from the most authentic sources by John Wesley and published in the _Arminian Magazine_. Dr.

Priestley, an unbeliever, confessed it to have been the best-authenticated and best-told story of the kind that was anywhere extant; and yet, so strongly wedded was he to his materialistic views, he could not accept them, nor find what might be regarded as a commonsense solution of them. He thought it quite probable that it was a trick of the servants, a.s.sisted by some of the neighbors, and that nothing was meant by it except puzzling the family and amusing themselves. But Mrs. Wesley and other members of the household declared that the noises were heard above and beneath them when all the family were in the same room.

Dr. Southey, though he does not express an opinion of these noises in his _Life of Wesley_, in a letter to Mr. Wilberforce avows his belief in their preternatural character. In his _Life of Wesley_ he does say, "The testimony upon which it rests is far too strong to be set aside because of the strangeness of the relation."

Dr. Priestley observes in favor of the story that all the parties seemed to have been sufficiently void of fear, and also free from credulity, except the general belief that such things were supernatural. But he claims that "where no good end is answered we may safely conclude that no miracle was wrought."

Mr. Southey replies to Priestley thus: "The former argument would be valid if the term 'miracle' were applicable to the case; but by 'miracle' Mr. Priestley intends a manifestation of divine power, and in the present case no such meaning is supposed, any more than in the appearance of departed spirits. Such things may be preternatural and yet not miraculous; they may be in the ordinary course of nature, and yet imply no alteration of its laws. And in regard to the good end which it may be supposed to answer, it would be end sufficient if sometimes one of those unhappy persons, who, looking through the dim gla.s.s of infidelity, sees something beyond this life and the narrow sphere of mortal existence, should, from the well-established truth of such a story (trifling and objectless as it may appear), be led to conclude that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in their philosophy."[C]

Mr. Coleridge finds a satisfactory solution of this knotty question in attributing the whole thing to "a contagious nervous disease" with which he judged the whole family to have been afflicted, "the acme or intensest form of which is catalepsy." The poor dog, it would seem, was as badly afflicted as the rest.

This notion does not need refutation. Dr. Adam Clarke, who collected all the accounts of these disturbances and published them in his _Wesley Family_, claims that they are so circ.u.mstantial and authentic as to ent.i.tle them to the most implicit credit. The eye and ear witnesses were persons of strong understanding and well-cultivated minds, untinctured by superst.i.tion, and in some instances rather skeptically inclined.

[Ill.u.s.tration: JEFFREY'S ATTIC ROOM, WHENCE THE MYSTERIOUS NOISES CAME.]

These unexplained noises in the Epworth rectory found their counterpart in what was known a little earlier as "New England witchcraft," and in our times as the Rochester and Hidsville knockings in 1848, which have ripened into modern Spiritualism, which, if real, is satanic.

There is but little doubt that these remarkable occurrences at his Epworth home made a deep and lasting impression on John Wesley's mind and life. There was ever present to his mind the reality of an invisible world, and he was convinced that satanic as well as angelic forces were all about us, both to bless and to ruin us if permitted to do so by Him who rules all the world.

CHAPTER V.

ORIGIN OF THE HOLY CLUB.

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 inst.i.tutions, its present vitality and activity, its commanding position and prospective greatness, must confess the work to be not of man, but of G.o.d."

The heart of the youthful collegian was profoundly stirred by the reading of the _Christian Pattern_, by Thomas a 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 G.o.d;" and on reading the latter he instantly resolved to dedicate all his life to G.o.d. He was convinced that there was no medium; every part must be a sacrifice to either G.o.d or himself. From this time his whole life was changed. How much he owed under G.o.d 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 cla.s.sics 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 G.o.dly 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 cla.s.s of Nonconforming ministers of the seventeenth century, or to both, who received this t.i.tle 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. G.o.d 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 G.o.d." 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 t.i.tle of His Holiness." These were n.o.ble 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.