find that, when doubtful on any resolution, he used to try drawing lots, and call the result "the answer of God;" a superstition precisely similar to those of sortilege and ordeal in the darkest ages. In the spirit of those ages also were his monkish austerities; at one time he entirely left off meat and wine; he attempted to sustain life by bread only; he thought it meritorious to sleep on the floor rather than in a bed.* Yet let me observe, that these errors cannot fairly be imputed to Wesley's own maturer years, or, still less, to the great body of his followers at that time.

In 1738, Wesley returned to England after an absence of above two years. Meanwhile, the little society he had left at Oxford had continued to grow and thrive. It had even struck root in London, and an association, formed on its principles, used to meet in Fetter Lane. Whitefield, having been ordained by Bishop Benson, soon attracted much notice by the eloquence, the enthusiasm, and the indiscretion of his sermons; and the same path was followed by Wesley with equal zeal and superior abilities. The first instance of field-preaching was by Whitefield to the colliers at Kingswood, near Bristol. These poor men had been left without any place or means of religious worship, so that to address them from the summit of a green knoll instead of a pulpit was scarcely a matter of choice. Well might the preacher's heart exult when he found, in a few weeks, twenty thousand people gather round him from their coal-pits **, and saw, as he says, the white gutters made by the tears which plentifully fell down their black cheeks! Negligent indeed must have been the reapers, where there was left so much to glean!

The practice thus begun from the want of a Church was soon continued from a different nesessity; when the extravagancies of the new preachers caused most of the regular pulpits to be closed against them. "I could scarce," says

Wesley's Journal, October 20. 1735, January 30. 1736, &c. ** Whitefield's Journal, March 25. 1739.

Wesley, "reconcile myself at first to this strange way." He still earnestly wished to adhere to the Church; in fact, both he and his brother Charles had at this time so much horror of schism as to form a project (most properly checked by the Bishops) for the rebaptizing of Dissenters. But the fever of fanaticism was now upon him, and transported him to many things of which his calmer reason disapproved. Like all enthusiasts, he began to consider the most ordinary and trifling occurrences as miraculous manifestations of a special providence. Thus, for example, on one of his journeys, dining at Birmingham, he omitted, as was his wont, to instruct the servants who had attended him, and a violent hailstorm having ensued when he left the town, he believed it a divine reproof for his neglect! ** When, on the contrary, a shower passes by him, Wesley repeatedly interprets it as a special Providence in his behalf. Any thing seemed to him more probable than that the elements should roll on their appointed course for the regulation of seasons, and the sustenance of millions! Any thing seemed more probable than that there should not be a miracle!

At this period, also, Wesley lent his ear to certain convulsions and ravings that began to seize some of his hearers, especially the female portion of them. They used to fall prostrate to the ground, to gnash their teeth, to rave and struggle, and in some cases to declare themselves possessed by evil spirits; and Wesley believed it! Many instances of this kind are recorded in his Journals. On another occasion, whilst he was preaching, great laughter prevailed amongst the congregation. This he thought clearly supernatural. "Most of our brethren and sisters were convinced, that "those who were under this strange temptation could not "help it. Only Edith B. and Anne H. were of another mind, "being still sure any one might help laughing if she would. "This they declared to many on Thursday, but on Friday

* Journal, March 29. 1739. But on the 1st of next April he observes, that "our Lord's Sermon on the Mount is a pretty remarkable precedent of "field-preaching."

** Wesley's Journal, March 16. 1738.

"God suffered Satan to teach them better. Both of them 66 were suddenly seized in the same manner as the rest, and "laughed whether they would or not, almost without cea"sing. Thus they continued for two days, a spectacle to all, "and were then, upon prayer made for them, delivered in a "moment."*

Charles Wesley, however, was less credulous; and sometimes detected an imposition, where his brother could only see a miracle. Once, when he was preaching at Kingswood, he saw a woman distorting herself, and calling out as if in agony; he quietly told her that he did not think the better of her for it, and she immediately became quite calm. Another woman, at Bristol, when he questioned her in private, respecting her frequent fits, at length owned that they were for the purpose of making Mr. Wesley take notice of her. In many other cases, the convulsions were no doubt real and unfeigned; the effect of austere fasting or of ignorant fanaticism; of an empty stomach or an empty brain.

Moreover, almost from its birth, the new society was rent asunder by a violent schism. It had hitherto acted in communion with the Moravians, a sect recently founded in Germany, but whose English followers had engrafted fresh singularities on the parent stock. From an extremity of religious zeal, these Moravians had come round to the same point as those who lack it altogether. They made a jest of religious observances, such as going to church or to the Sacrament; for they argued, he who has not faith ought not to use these things, and he who has faith does not want them. One Moravian even went so far as to say, while discoursing in public, that as many go to hell by praying as by thieving.** Wesley naturally protested against these fanatics; they were also condemned by the chief of the sect in Germany, and the union between the Methodists and the better Moravians might perhaps still have been preserved. But Wesley,

Wesley's Journal, June 21. 1740.

** Sec Wesley's Works, vol. ii. p. 100. ed. 1809.

according to his usual system of drawing lots, under the idea of consulting Providence, had fallen upon the text, "What is that to thee? Follow thou me;" and from that moment thought himself bound to oppose all reconciliation.

A still more important breach for the Methodists next arose, when their own house became divided against itself. Whitefield, a man younger in years, and inferior both in learning and talents to Wesley, had hitherto treated him with almost the deference of a pupil, and in their correspondence at this time calls himself "a child who is willing to "wash your feet." They differed, however, on the Calvinistic doctrine of Predestination. "What is there in repro"bation so horrid?" asks Whitefield. "How," exclaims Wesley, "the elect shall be saved, do what they will! The "rest shall be damned, do what they can!" An ample discussion on this mysterious subject failed to reconcile them; but seeing the evil of fresh divisions, and anxious to afford no triumph to their common adversaries, they wished to refrain from preaching upon it, or assailing each other in public. But enthusiasts, who would brave any other suffering, can never long endure the agony of moderation. Wesley soon again cast a lot for his guidance: his lot, which seems generally to have followed his preceding inclination, was, this time, “Preach and Print;" and he accordingly not only preached, but printed a sermon against the doctrine of election. Whitefield, on his part, took fire at this aggression, and the more so as his expressions at this time show the growing ascendency over him of spiritual pride. "I have a garden near at hand, where I go particularly to "meet and talk with my God at the cool of every day.... Our "dear Lord sweetly fills me with his presence. My heaven is "begun indeed. I feast on the fatted calf. The Lord "strengthens me mightily in the inner man." A man who could write and feel thus, was not likely to brook any opposition to any internal impulse: he wrote an acrimonious letter against Wesley, which his indiscreet friends sent to the

press in London. Well might Wesley complain of the intemperate style and surreptitious publication; well might he tear a copy to pieces before his congregation, saying, that he believed he did just what Mr. Whitefield would, were he there himself!

The superstitions and excesses of the first Methodists cannot be concealed, with due regard to truth. But it is no less due to truth to acknowledge their high and eminent qualities. If to sacrifice every advantage, and to suffer every hardship if to labour for the good, real or supposed, of their fellow creatures with all their heart, with all their soul, and with all their strength, if the most fervent devotion if the most unconquerable energy, be deserving of respect, let us not speak slightingly of those spiritual leaders, who, mighty even in their errors, and honest even in their contradictions, have stamped their character on their own and on the present times. It is proper to record, it is easy to deride their frailties; but let

us, ere we contemn them, seriously ask ourselves

whether we should be equally ready to do and bear every thing in the cause of conscience, whether, like them, we could fling away all thought of personal ease and personal advantage. It has often been said, that there is no virtue without sacrifices; but, surely, it is equally true, that there are no sacrifices without virtue. Generous actions often spring from error; but still we must prefer such error to a selfish and lazy wisdom, and, though neither Jacobites nor Methodists, we may admire the enthusiasm of a Lochiel in politics, and of a Wesley in religion.

The breach with the Moravians, and with the party of Whitefield, left Wesley sole and undisputed chief of the remaining brotherhood; and the gap thus made was far more than repaired by the growing multitude of converts. Methodism began to rear its head throughout the land, and the current of events soon carried Wesley far beyond the bounds which had formerly been drawn by himself. Thus, he had condemned field-preaching until he felt the want of pulpits;