just view of them: "This order undoes us. now stand we must be disorderly or useless."

As things

It is supposed that there were about forty clergymen of the Establishment publicly known about this period as "evangelical."5 Wesley had tried in vain to introduce among them some plan of co-operation which should not compromise their opinions. With Whitefield and Lady

Huntingdon he had better success. He frequently met them in London, and preached at the residence of the Countess amid throngs not only of the aristocracy, but of the Calvinistic Methodist ministers; he occupied their pulpits, also, in his travels through the country. About 1766 the Countess, Whitefield, and the two Wesleys cemented their Christian harmony by something like a formal, "a quadruple alliance," as Charles Wesley called it. They agreed to meet as often as convenient and co-operate in their common work.

Lady Huntingdon prized highly Wesley's counsels. She could not fail to perceive his peculiar ability as an ecclesiastical administrator, and, more than any other leader of Calvinistic Methodism, shared his legislative and executive genius; but her sex did not admit of its exertion to the extent needed by her societies. She consulted him often on important occasions. In 1767 she submitted to him, and also to Venn, Romaine, and her other conspicuous associates, a plan. for the education of preachers, from which arose her Trevecca College. Wesley heartily approved the scheme; it was, in fact, the exemplification of a design which he himself had propounded in his first and second Conferences.

A provision of this kind was the more needed as it had become manifest that the Methodists could expect no treatment, compatible with their self-respect, for their ministerial candidates at the English universities. About the time that Lady Huntingdon and Wesley were consulting respecting Trevecca, a conclusive motive for the project was given at Ox

♪ Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon, chap. 27.

• See his letter (tinged not a little with his characteristic discontent to ward his brother) in the Life of Lady Huntingdon, chap. 27.

ford. Methodism had again revealed itself within its learned cloisters, as also at Cambridge. In the latter the noted Rowland Hill headed a band of devout youth who were stigmatized by the title. At Oxford, Halward, of Worcester College, led a little company who were reproducing "The Holy Club," to the dismay of its clerical and literary dignitaries. Hill and Halward were in constant correspondence; Whitefield, also, had influential relations with them, and the new revival began to assume much prospective importance when it was summarily arrested by the collegiate authorities of Oxford. Six students of St. Edmund's Hall were cited to trial "for holding Methodistic tenets, and taking upon them to pray, read, and expound the Scriptures in private houses." Dr. Dixon, Principal of St. Edmund's, defended the accused students from the Thirty-nine Articles, and spoke in the highest terms of their piety and exemplary lives; but his motion for their acquittal was overruled, and they were expelled. The proceeding produced a general sensation in religious circles throughout the country. Sir Richard Hill dedicated to the Earl of Litchfield, Chancellor of the University, a pungent pamphlet, entitled "Pietas Oxoniensis." Horne, afterward Bishop of Norwich, entered into the controversy in favor of the expelled young men. Macgowan, who had been a local preacher among the Methodists, but was now a Baptist pastor in London, published against the University a satirical sermon, famous in that day, under the title of "The Shaver," which, with Aristophanic humor, but scathing logic, showed the Oxford proceedings to be not only impious but supremely ridiculous; many thousands of the publication flew over the land. Whitefield addressed a published and forcible letter to the Vice-Chancellor. Most, if not all these young men had been sent to Oxford under the auspices of Lady Huntingdon; and the Oxford authorities, as also the public journals, accused her of "seducing young men from

7 St. James's Chronicle. Philip's Whitefield, chap. 27. The chief charges against one of them was that "he had been instructed by Mr. Fletcher, a decided Methodist," and had "associated with Methodists."*

their respective trades and avocations and sending them to the University, where they were maintained at her expense, that they might afterward skulk into orders." It was time, therefore, that Trevecca should be opened. In three months it was dedicated by Whitefield, several of the persecuted students resorted to it, and most of them became useful ministers in the national Church or among the Dissenters.

In August, 1769, a remarkable scene was exhibited at Trevecca. It was the celebration of the first anniversary of the college; and so catholic was yet the whole Methodist movement, that both its Calvinistic and Arminian leaders met there in harmony, and gave an example of Christian charity which should never be forgotten by their successors. Nearly a week before the celebration many of the most distinguished evangelists had arrived, and vast congregations, sermons, exhortations, prayers, and conversions, in the court-yard of the castle, marked these preliminary days. Early in the morning of the anniversary the Eucharist was administered, and shared by Methodists of all opinions. Its administrators were Wesley and Shirley, the exponents of the Calvinism and Arminianism of the day. A large company of clergymen first partook of it, then the students, and afterward the countess, and a train of "elect ladies," mostly of high rank, followed by the people. Fletcher preached in the court at two o'clock, and was succeeded by a sermon in Welsh, after which all the clergymen dined with Lady Huntingdon, while bread and meat were distributed from ample baskets to the multitude without. In the afternoon Wesley preached, and Fletcher followed with a second sermon. The evening was devoted to a "love-feast," the primitive Agape, derived, in a simplified form, through the London Moravians; it was an occasion of extraordinary interest; all classes sat "together as in heavenly places in Christ Jesus." Howell Harris, with a band of his Welsh converts, took part in the exercises in their own language, and narratives of Christian experience, prayers, and hymns occu

J

pied the hours. Wesley, always on the wing, left the next day; but Fletcher, Shirley, and other clergymen tarried several days in brotherly devotions, preaching from a platform in the court-yard to the multitudes who still lingered with them in deep religious interest.

!

But let us return, and for the last time, to the hero of Calvinistic Methodism. It pleases God, in accommodation to the infirmities of our fallen humanity, that his most eminent servants should not be entirely exempt from its common imperfections, otherwise they could not so well command our common sympathies, and do us the good for which they are sent; but sometimes, as their appointed work is closing, does he put upon their brows an unearthly glory, as if crowning them among men for their admission among angels. Even in private life, when the aged pilgrim, or the long-suffering saint, or sanctified childhood itself, seems preparing to depart, it is often thus; but still more among the good and noted, of public Christian usefulness. Whitefield has appeared and reappeared amid the scenes of our narrative with continually increasing interest-an interest which the historian, while he may well apprehend that he shall be suspected of exaggeration, knows equally well to be short of the original reality. We come now to follow him to his grave, or rather to the scene of his ascension; and as we trace him through his last days, and behold his devotion, his eloquence, his heroism, taking a character of sublimity from the approach of death, we shall find that the ground upon which we tread becomes more holy, and should be walked with unsandaled feet.

We parted from him last in 1760. His health was feeble the asthma oppressed him, and his chronic hemorrhage, "vomiting of blood," was considered by him a fortunate relief after the excitement of his discourses. In 1761 he was reduced almost to extremity, and expected death. Berridge, Romaine, Madan, and his other associates, had to sustain the services of the Tabernacle and Tottenham Chapel, and for the first time in his minis

terial career he preached not for several weeks. In 1762 he `considered it a sign of some improvement that he could resume his " ranging," and preach some "five times a week." He could "take the open field" occasionally. "O for power equal to my will!" he wrote; "I would fly from pole to pole publishing the everlasting Gospel of the Son of God." He made a voyage to Holland for his health this year, and on his return was soon again in Scotland, and could write: “All my old times have returned." Edinburgh, Glasgow, Cambuslang, again rejoiced under his ministrations. On returning to England, it is recorded that he was able to preach “but once a day," in extreme weakness.

In 1763 he was again on the ocean. It was his sixth expedition. At Philadelphia he preached twice a week, though still very feeble. Forty preachers, of various denominations, who had been regenerated in the American revival, congratulated him on his arrival. He passed through New York, Connecticut, and Rhode Island, to Boston, welcomed by tens of thousands. At New York he wrote that such a flocking of all ranks he never saw before. At Boston his reception was more cordial than ever. Even Harvard College, which had issued its "testimony" against him, voted him thanks for his Journal and other books, and received him as an ambassador of Christ. On leaving the city for the south, messengers were sent after him; he went back and preached to immense crowds for several weeks.

In his southward tour the whole population on his route seemed swayed with interest. On reaching New York he wrote: "It would astonish you to see above a hundred carriages at every sermon in the New World." Before the end of 1764 he reached his beloved Bethesda, near Savannah, having preached all along his course from Boston to innumerable multitudes.

In the spring of 1765 he again swept over the colonies northward as far as New York. It would be impossible to estimate the influence of his powerful discourses on the Churches, and the religious interests of the Atlantic settle