Modern Skepticism: A Journey Through the Land of Doubt and Back Again Part 9

His father, who was a leading man in the society, and his brothers, were in the same way of business. Another man who was a leading member and an official, followed the same dishonorable occupation. It was usual with those people, when their wretched customers were turned out of their houses by their landlords, to provide them with fresh houses, and even to supply them with furniture. When fairs or races were at hand, they supplied them with extra dresses and ornaments, to enable them to ply their horrible trade to better advantage. These facts I had in part from my bed-fellow, and in part from the people in whose house he kept his shop, and with whom I lived. When I came to know these things I was very uneasy; and on finding that it was unsafe to sleep with my bed-fellow, I got fresh lodgings. This vexed my bed-fellow and all his family, and made them my enemies. I spoke of these things to my superintendent, but he advised me to be cautious what I did and said in reference to such matters. And he told me a story that he had met with in a work on the ministry by an American, which he had just been reading. This author said, that out of fifty ministers whom he had known expelled from their holy office, only one or two had been expelled for immoral conduct or gross inconsistency: all the rest had been discarded on account of imprudences. This was meant to deter me from interfering either by word or deed with faulty members of society. And he backed his unG.o.dly counsel by as bad an example. For he not only left those wicked people to pursue their evil courses undisturbed, but visited at their houses, allowed his family to receive presents from them, and, when he was leaving the circuit, did himself accept from their unclean hands a portion of their filthy gains, in the shape of a testimonial of their respect for his great abilities and distinguished virtues. This person, whose general conduct was much in keeping with the facts I have given above, though he was the foremost minister in the Connexion, proved my most persistent adversary in after life, and never rested till he had brought about my expulsion from the ministry.

14. I will mention another affair to show what notions certain members of the church had of what was required of Christians in reference to business matters. I bought some handkerchiefs of a man, a member of society, in Chester, on his a.s.surance that they would wash. When we washed them they came to pieces. I asked the man afterwards if he was aware when he sold the handkerchiefs that they were rotten. He said he was. "Then why did you sell me them?" I asked. He said he had bought them for good ones himself, and that he could not afford to lose what he had given for them. I wanted such people to be dealt with according to the rules of Christian discipline.

15. There were many other sad facts, far more than I have either time or disposition to mention, which forced themselves on my notice, and obliged me, in conscience, to plead and labor for reform. There seemed a dreadful distance between the character of Christ and the character of the Church; and I wished to make it less. How far I erred in my efforts to bring about this desirable result, and how far I acted wisely, it is not for me to say. I know that my object was good, and that the course I took was the one that seemed best to me at the time; but it is probable that some would have gone about the work in a wiser way. I never excelled in certain forms of prudence. I was p.r.o.ne to speak forth my thoughts and feelings without much consideration and with but little reserve; and I often used the plainest and even the strongest words. I was too open. My heart was too near my mouth. I thought aloud. And I was not sufficiently tender of people's feelings. Nor did I make sufficient allowance for their prejudices and imperfections. I probably expected too much from men. And some of the reforms which I proposed might at the time be impracticable. I was accustomed to muse very much on the teachings of Christ and His Apostles, and to image to myself a state of things in the Church which, though very desirable, was probably unattainable, except through many slow preliminary changes. I wished for a church "without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing,"--a church that should set forth and carry out the highest principles of Christian purity and charity--and that was a blessing to be looked for not in the present, but in the future only.

16. Then I had but little knowledge of human nature, either in its regenerate or unregenerate state. I over-rated men's virtues, and under-rated their defects. I trusted them too much and feared them too little. I took all who put on a fair appearance, for friends, and imparted to them the innermost thoughts of my soul. And many proved unworthy of my confidence. And I often over-rated men's talents or capabilities. I was not aware of the infinite difference in men's powers. I thought all my brethren in the ministry, and almost all my brother Christians, were capable, under proper culture, of being made as wise, as able, as eloquent, as the most distinguished in the Church. I was not aware that some men were naturally palm-trees, and others only brambles; that some were pearls, and others only pebbles; and that these const.i.tutional differences were unalterable. Hence I expected too much of some, and was too impatient perhaps when disappointed. I erred with regard both to men and inst.i.tutions, and my colleagues were often offended with what they deemed my unreasonable expectations and demands.

17. But in truth, it is not necessary for reformers to err, in order to give offence. The best and wisest One that ever appeared on earth gave offence to those who were wedded to error and abuses. A Christian reformer can never please the "earthly, the sensual, and the devilish."

The history of Christ and of Paul has settled that. A Christian reformer never does the right thing in the estimation of the idle, the selfish, the corrupt: and if he does, he never does it at the right time, or in the right way. He always meddles too early, or too late; and he always goes too fast, or too slow; and he always does too much, or too little.

He interferes with their ease, their interests, and their pleasures, and that is enough. They will, in return, endeavor to destroy his influence, if not to take away his life. They will impute to him the vilest motives. They will stick at no lie, no wrong, that seems likely to damage his reputation. They will magnify his innocent weaknesses or trifling inconsistencies, and represent them as gross and unpardonable faults. If he is faithful they will call him rash; if he is prudent they will call him hypocritical; and they will labor in every way to awaken against him distrust and prejudice in the minds of the better-disposed among their brethren.

And many of the better-disposed themselves often see what tries them greatly in the character and doings of reformers. It is the natural tendency of the reforming spirit to lead a man to look too much at what is amiss in men and systems, and too little at what is right and praiseworthy. It is what is amiss that _wants_ reforming, so he fixes his mind on that, and makes it the constant subject of his conversation.

And so it was with myself no doubt to some extent. And this, to men of conservative tendencies, who look more at the good and less at the evil in the men and systems with which they are connected, seems a grievous fault, an inexcusable piece of injustice, deserving the severest censure. And they repay it with the sternest condemnation.

And conservatives can be as blind or one-sided as the most eager reformers. They can shut their eyes to what is evil, or treat great abuses as excusable trifles; while they magnify what is good beyond all bounds. And when they get excited or vexed they can be as unjust towards the reformer, as the most rabid reformer can be towards them or their pet inst.i.tutions. And there are few things fiercer than the fire of bigotry, even in minds not dest.i.tute of piety. The truth is, when men wax hot, either in favor of reform or against it, justice is forgotten, and kindness and courtesy are out of the question.

And so it was in the controversies which arose out of my efforts at reform. I was a.s.sailed both by the malignity of the corrupt, and by the bigotry of the misguided. I was hated by the bad, and dreaded by some of the good, and abused and persecuted by both. And some of my enemies had neither mercy nor moderation. They pressed matters to the most terrible extremes.

And I was not sufficiently on my guard. Instead of possessing my soul in patience, and casting my care on G.o.d, I allowed their persecutions to increase the bitterness of my unhappy feelings, and render my ultimate separation from them inevitable.

18. There were several other matters which had something to do in causing unpleasant feelings between me and a number of my brethren.

It fell to my lot to be unusually popular. I became so at a very early period. I was, in consequence, often invited by other circuits to preach their special sermons, and I frequently accepted those invitations. Some of my superintendents were annoyed at this, and showed their displeasure in very offensive ways. While I was in Hanley circuit my superintendent called a meeting of a number of leading friends, before which I was summoned to appear. There my acceptance of invitations to preach occasional sermons was charged against me as an offence, and I was ordered not to _go_ into other circuits any more, without the consent of my superintendent. I offered no objection to this. My superintendent next charged me with having a number of objectionable books in my library. He had requested the woman at whose house I lodged to show him into my room during my absence, and there he had found the works of Shakespeare, Barrow, Tillotson, and Paley, and some volumes of poems by Lord Byron. The meeting advised me to get rid of Shakespeare and Byron, and to be careful how I used the works of Barrow, Tillotson, and Paley, as they were not Methodistical, and my great concern, it was said, should be to excel as a teacher and defender of Methodism. With this recommendation I could not entirely comply. I retained my Shakespeare; I have him yet. And I read the works of Tillotson, Barrow, and Paley as freely as I had done before. But I lost all confidence in my superintendent, and a portion of the respect I had felt for those who took his part. Towards the close of the year my superintendent and his friends endeavored to prevent me from receiving a perfect certificate, on the pretence that I had expressed a doubt whether my health would prove equal to the work of the ministry. Their objections proved of no avail; but the spirit which my superintendent showed, increased the unhappy feeling which his previous unkindness had awakened in my breast.

19. The wife of one of our ministers published a book, and the husband sent it to me for review. It contained, mixed up with a great variety of useful remarks, a number of anti-scriptural and antinomian pa.s.sages.

While I did justice to the rest of the book, I exposed its errors with great fidelity, and gave the husband great offence.

20. About the same time a gentleman at whose house I was billeted at Bury, when lecturing there on temperance, made me a present of a volume of Channing's discourses. I read this volume with the greatest delight, and spoke of it highly in my periodical. Now Channing was a Unitarian, and in one of the discourses contained in the volume which I had commended, there were several Unitarian expressions. The husband of the lady whose book I had reviewed brought the matter before Conference. He also quoted from my periodical a number of pa.s.sages which he contended were not Methodistical. He was very violent in his remarks, and concluded his address by demanding my expulsion. He had conferred with a number of other preachers before Conference came on, and formed a considerable party, and the clamor for my condemnation was both loud and somewhat general. A gentleman, however, of great influence in Conference,--the same who had pleaded for moderation at the Conference previous,--rose and proposed a gentler course. The result was a committee, explanations and a settlement. After the Conference, the terms of the settlement were misrepresented by my opponents, and I felt called upon to put them in their proper light. This revived the controversy, and made matters worse than they had been before.

21. I have referred to the rule which required young preachers to remain single for four or five years. When a person was received into the ministry, he was required to give a pledge that he would keep this rule.

I declined to give this pledge, I said I had no _intention_ to marry before the appointed time, and that if I _did_ so, I should be in the hands of the Conference, and they could do with me what they thought best. This was considered sufficient, and I was accepted. As it happened I _did_ marry before the appointed time. I had had such unsuitable lodgings found me where I had been stationed, and I had suffered so much in consequence, that I felt justified in taking a wife and providing accommodations for myself, I took for my wife a woman of exemplary character, of amiable disposition, and engaging manners, and I put the circuits in which I was stationed to no additional expense or trouble. I took my own house, and provided my own furniture. And I neither begged nor borrowed a penny, nor did I run one penny into debt. And I worked as hard after marriage as before, and probably harder, and to better purpose. The Conference however punished me by putting me a year back, and transporting me to the most distant part of a very distant circuit.

Thither I had to remove my wife and furniture at great expense. And the allowance for board there was the lowest that the laws allowed a society to give. My whole yearly income was only forty pounds, or two hundred dollars. I was required too to be often and long from home in distant parts of the circuit. I went however to my appointment and set to work, disposed, though sorrowful, to do my duty. I got a part of an old uninhabited house, and my wife made it comfortable. We lived economically, and kept out of debt, without the aid of either gifts or loans, and I never had a happier year, and my labors were never better received or more successful; and Blyth, the place of my banishment, will be dear to me as long as I live.

22. Yet I had many trials while stationed there. My superintendent was unkind, and tried from time to time to do me harm. But though he caused me much trouble at times, a higher power overruled things for my good.

One of the societies over which he had great influence was really cruel.

It refused to postpone a service to allow me to go and see my child when it was very ill, and thought to be in great danger. The circuit was nearly thirty miles in length, and I had to spend nearly half my time from fifteen to twenty-three miles away from home. Once when starting for the most distant of my appointments, I had left my little child very unwell, and apparently in danger of death. It was too bad that I should have had to leave my little family under such circ.u.mstances; but the feeling in many parts of the circuit was so unfriendly towards me, in consequence of the unfavorable representations of my views and habits of thought circulated by my superintendent and his friends, that I could not have missed an appointment with safety. I had been away five days, when I heard that my child was worse, and likely to die. I had still one appointment to fulfil, but I resolved, if possible, to get it postponed, and hasten home. I went to the place and requested the leaders to allow me to put off the appointment to the following week. They refused my request. I told them I had received word that my child was likely to die, and that I was anxious to be with its afflicted mother; but they would not give way. I was sadly tried, and I said, "I shall go home notwithstanding. If I find my child alive and likely to recover, I will return and preach; if I do not find it better, I shall not return. I shall stay at home and take the consequences!" I had already walked thirteen miles. It was ten or eleven more to Blyth. I walked the whole distance. There was no conveyance. My superintendent was allowed horse hire; but I was not: and I could not afford to pay for a horse myself out of sixteen dollars or three pound five a month. I reached home, and found my child a little better. After a little rest, I started back on foot to my appointment. My wife looked out of the window after me, weeping, afraid to ask me to remain with her. She knew the temper of my superintendent, and the feeling of the people, so she wept in silence. I walked over ten miles more, and then preached. I walked altogether thirty-three miles that day. I was very much tired; but I had seen my wife and child, so I went through my work without complaining, and was up very early next morning, and walked ten miles more to breakfast with my darling wife, and to comfort her sorrowful heart. My child got well, and all things turned out happily in the end. Still, the unkindness of the Conference in punis.h.i.+ng me so undeservedly, and the cruelty of my superintendent and the Westmoor leaders, made me feel very keenly, and I could never think of those matters without something like indignation and horror. And all these annoyances lessened my respect for many of my brethren, and helped to prepare the way for future troubles.

My troubles did not all come from the preachers. There were several laymen in and about Newcastle-on-Tyne, who seemed to think it a duty to annoy their young minister. The worst, though in some respects the best, of that cla.s.s was Thomas Snowdon, an old local preacher, leader, and trustee. The first interview that I had with this man he took occasion to insult me respecting my marriage, and also gave me to understand that he should expect me to be in perfect subjection to his will, if I wished to enjoy much peace or comfort in the circuit. It fell to my lot to be lodged and boarded for part of my time at his house, and to show his way of proceeding I may give the following.

It was his custom to read a portion of the Scriptures to his family every morning, and as he pa.s.sed along he would make comments on what he read. When I was there, he would frequently stop in his readings and comments, to ask my opinion, and he seemed to expect that I must always concur in what he said. At times however I was obliged to dissent from his sayings, and then would follow a little controversy. Those controversies were never very profitable, in consequence of his constant desire to force his own opinions on me, and to extort from me a.s.sent to his whimsical and foolish observations. Yet he still continued to force those controversies.

He also took upon himself the office of perpetual censurer of my discourses. And his censures were generally proportioned to the goodness of the sermon. If I happened to be particularly at liberty in my discourse, and preach better than usual, he would blame almost everything. If I preached indifferently, he would censure less; and if I preached poorly, if I was embarra.s.sed in my discourse, and seemed troubled or sad on that account, he would scarcely censure at all. Then the things which he censured would be sure to be the best and truest parts of my sermon. He appeared to think that he was out of his duty, unless he was endeavoring to torture the mind of the young preacher, and to force him, if possible, into subjection to his will.

On one occasion he and I had nearly quarrelled. He had tried me till I could keep silence no longer, so I told him plainly what I thought about his manner of proceeding. I spoke so plainly, that both he and his wife were seriously put about. Soon after that, on my visiting the Newcastle side of the circuit, I found that the people at whose house I was then accustomed to sleep, had gone off, and closed the house, so that I was obliged to look out for other lodgings. I went directly to Mr.

Snowdon's. He was the princ.i.p.al man in the circuit, and it was his place to see that I was properly provided for. His wife seemed astonished when I entered the house: but I told her how the matter stood; and I added, that I did not feel disposed to go, at that time of the night, (for it was getting rather late) to any other lodging; so that I hoped she would give me a bed. I also said, that unless I could be accommodated with a bed there, I would at once return to Blyth. She said, 'I should always be glad to see you, and to give you either bed or anything else, if you would not disagree and dispute so with our master.' I replied, 'It is your master that will disagree and dispute with me. I should be quiet enough, if he would let me alone. I never force my opinions on him; it is only when he attempts to force his opinions on me that I ever speak.

You must yourself have seen that he will neither allow me to be silent, nor allow me quietly to speak my mind; that he _will_ oblige me to speak, and yet always finds fault if I say anything at variance with what _he_ says.' She acknowledged that her husband was rather queer in that respect, but still thought that I might manage a great deal better with him if I would. I told her I had done my best, and that it was all to no purpose. 'He will ask my opinion,' said I, 'on every subject that comes into his head, and then begin to complain whenever my opinion happens to differ from his.' I also added, that I thought he sometimes disputed with me merely for the sake of disputing, and contradicted me, not because he thought I was wrong, but because he thought that it would be too much of a compliment to acknowledge that he agreed with me on any subject. She thought I was too severe upon him. I said, 'Well, just wait and see to-night, and if it is not as I have said, you shall blame me as much as you like, and I will acknowledge myself in error.'

Almost immediately Mr. Snowdon came in. 'What are _you_ doing here to-night?' said he. 'I have come to sleep here,' I replied, 'and more than that, I _must_ sleep here, or else return to Blyth. Mr. G----'s house is closed, and it is too late to seek a bed elsewhere.' He made no objections, and things proceeded as usual. He soon took his Bible, called the family around him, and began to read. The lesson was in Isaiah. He had not read far before he began to explain a pa.s.sage.

'This,' said he, 'refers to our blessed Lord Jesus Christ. It points out the glory of His character and of His person as the supreme G.o.d and Lord of all; exhibits Him as the _Maker_ as well as the _Saviour_ of the world. Do you not think so, Mr. Barker?' said he. I remained silent. 'Is not that your view of the subject, Mr. Barker?' he added. 'I have no objections to offer,' I said. This did not seem exactly to satisfy him; but he went on, and read again. 'And so it is,' said he; 'we are all by nature as an unclean thing; there is no health in us. How deeply we are fallen, Mr. Barker! Do you not think so, Mr. Barker?' I made no reply.

He wished to know why I was silent. I said I did not like to be always talking on those matters,--that I would rather he would read on, and allow us to think about the chapter at our leisure afterwards. All this time his wife was dreadfully fidgetty. She wanted to speak to him, but could not. She wished to catch his attention by her looks, but to no purpose. The proof of the truth of what I had said was becoming too strong for her, and she could scarcely sit still on her chair. He proceeded: 'This,' said he, 'refers to the glory of the Church of Christ in the latter days, when the Gentiles shall be converted, and the Jews brought back to their own land. This will be a glorious time, Mr.

Barker. What are your views on this subject, Mr. Barker?' Then he added some further remarks, concluding with the question, 'Do you not think so, Mr. Barker?' I now began to laugh: I could hold no longer. 'And do you laugh at G.o.d's holy word?' said he: and a terrible lecture he would have read me, had not his wife broke out and said, 'Hinney, you are to blame, you are to blame. You won't let Mr. Barker alone: he would be silent if you would allow him: you are too bad.' He repeated his terrible rebuke of my levity, and I began to explain. I told him what had pa.s.sed between his wife and me before he came in. I told him all that I thought about his way of proceeding towards me in those matters, and he, poor fellow, was completely confounded. I told him that it seemed to me as if he really took pleasure in tormenting people; as if he could not be happy unless he thought that he was making other people miserable,--that he seemed to begrudge those that were around him the least ease, or quietness, or pleasure, and to wish to keep them on a perpetual rack. It was his time now to explain and apologize, and what do you think was the reason he a.s.signed for his proceedings? 'Hinney,'

said he, 'Mr. Barker is a young minister, and I wish to inure him to hardness as a good soldier of our Lord Jesus Christ.' I told him there were painful things enough in the world to inure men to hardness without his making more, &c. After this he never annoyed me much in that way again. He did not allow me to rest altogether; that would have been too much; but he was a vast deal better; and if he ever after this began to be queer, I always felt greater confidence in refusing to talk to him, and in letting him know that I expected to be allowed to have a little of my own way.

I never could persuade myself but that this man was, after all, a good man. I believe he really feared G.o.d and loved his fellow-men. I think he was conscientious and benevolent. Among other proofs of his benevolence I may mention, that he took an orphan family under his care, and reared them. He made them _work_, it is true; he made _every_ one work that was under _him_; but he fed them, and clothed them, and taught them in his way. He acted, in short, like a father to them.

Again, when my mother came over to see me at Newcastle, he invited her to his house. He showed her every possible attention. He was as kind as it was possible for a man to be. And when she had to leave for Leeds, he was up by four or five o'clock in the morning, to provide her a comfortable breakfast, and take her to the coach. But I observed that he was always kinder to old people than to young people. I suppose he thought that old people had had trouble enough, and that he had therefore no need to give them more; but that young people were in danger of being too happy, of having too little trouble, and that it was necessary therefore that he should be their tormentor. But even to the young he could be kind on occasions, very kind; and if the young showed a disposition to meet his views, to receive his sayings as oracles, and always to consult his will, he would even caress and commend them. But he could receive no measured or limited subjection. They must neither think, nor speak, nor smile, nor stir but in accordance with his will if they wished to enjoy his favor. The least imaginable opposition to his judgment or his pleasure, would draw forth his rebukes.

There were laymen in almost all places who took upon themselves to tell you what you should believe and teach, and to condemn you as a heretic if you did not attend to their suggestions.

24. In 1837, shortly after I was stationed in Mossley, I had a public discussion with a clergyman on the propriety or lawfulness of teaching the children of the poor to write in our Sunday-schools. The New Connexion people in the Mossley circuit taught writing in their Sunday-schools, and they had, in consequence, a very large attendance of scholars, and very prosperous churches. Their scholars outnumbered those of all the other schools put together. This seemed to annoy the ministers of the other denominations, and it was no uncommon thing for those ministers, when they came to preach the yearly sermons in behalf of the funds of their Schools, to say strong things against the practice of the New Connexion. Dr. Nunn, of the Established Church, contended that it was Sabbath-breaking, and challenged the New Connexion officials to a public discussion on the subject. They accepted the challenge, and appointed me their champion. I contended, that in the circ.u.mstances in which the children of the poor were placed at that time, it was an act of mercy and Christian beneficence to teach them to write on Sundays.

The clergyman gave up the contest before the time allowed for the debate came to a close, and I was proclaimed victor. I published my views on the subject in a pamphlet, ent.i.tled MERCY TRIUMPHANT, which had an extensive circulation, and produced a powerful effect on the views of large numbers of people. Some of my brethren denounced the pamphlet as heretical, and the editor of the _Magazine_ took occasion to inform his readers, in an offensive way, that my views were not the views of the body to which I belonged.

25. In the Sheffield circuit I had several unpleasant collisions with one of my colleagues, and a couple of superannuated ministers, about a rich but very unworthy member there. This man was anxious to control the action of the whole circuit, and even of the whole Connexion, and one of my colleagues, and the two superannuated ministers, one of which was Mr.

Allin, my old and persistent opponent, took his part. I had myself no faith in the man. I knew him to be both an ignorant and unworthy person.

He was, in fact, a drunkard. Both he and Mr. Allin once, after having spent the day at a public feast, came into an official meeting drunk in the evening. I was present, and saw the horrible sight. It afterwards came out that this rude, ambitious man was something worse than a drunkard. I did what I could to avoid an open rupture with my colleagues and this man's friends, and succeeded for a time, but they obliged me at last, either to sanction what I felt to be wrong, or openly to protest against their proceedings. I protested. And now the unsubstantial peace which had existed between us for a time was followed by a very unhappy rupture, which left deep and angry wounds in the hearts of all the contending parties.

26. But to give all the incidents which proved the occasion of bitter feeling and alienation between me and a number of my brethren would require a book. They were happening almost continually. When once people have ceased to regard each other with love and confidence, they can neither speak nor stir without giving each other offence. And this was the state to which I and several of my brethren had come. Indeed such was the unhappy state of our feelings, that we had ceased to take pleasure in pleasing, and had come almost to take delight in trying one another. Instead of coming as near together as we could, we got as far as possible apart. We came at length to feel a kind of gratification in finding what appeared good reasons for differing from one another. The consequence was, we came to differ from each other so much, that it became impossible for us to work together to any advantage.

And there was no one with wisdom and piety sufficient to interpose and heal the breach, or even to prevent it from getting continually wider.

The gentleman who had acted as mediator and moderator when my article on _Toleration and Human Creeds_ was arraigned, and who had also brought about the temporary settlement of a more serious dispute at the Conference following, now found the case beyond his powers, and made no further attempts at reconciliation. He saw it necessary, if he would retain his influence in the Body, to become a partizan, instead of a mediator, and he chose the side of my opponents. There were two other men--two of the oldest and ablest of our ministers--and two of the most exemplary Christians in the Body--who saw the danger of the tempest that was raging against me, and who would have been glad to screen me from its violence, but they were afraid to interpose. They loved me and esteemed me, and sympathized with me in many of my views; but to have attempted to save me from the fury of my opponents, would have been to risk their own reputation and position. One of them had already suffered in consequence of the freedom with which he had expressed his views on certain anti-christian doctrines, though he had written with far more caution, and acted with much more prudence, than I had done; and he no doubt felt, that if he could not, without so much difficulty, save himself, it would be vain to attempt to save another, who had spoken and written with so much more freedom, and acted with so much more independence. So the storm was left to rage and spend its fury on my own head.

I cannot give an account of all that followed during the last two years which I spent in connection with the Church; it would make my story too long. But things got worse and worse as time pa.s.sed on.

In 1840 I brought my _Evangelical Reformer_ to a close. In the last number I declared my unchanged belief in the sentiments set forth in my article on "_Toleration, Human Creeds, &c._" I also contradicted the reports that had been spread abroad by my enemies, to the effect that I had, at the preceding Conference, retracted certain expressions used in my writings with regard to justification, the witness of the Spirit, &c.; and censured the conduct of the ruling party in my case in very plain terms. I said, "If any of my opponents imagine that I have recanted a single sentence that I have published in this work, they are under some misapprehension. There is not a doctrine that I have inculcated in it that I do not still maintain. And I declare my full conviction that the resolutions which were pa.s.sed in reference to me by the Ashton and Huddersfield Conferences were based in error, and that the proceedings of my opponents in this matter were uncalled for and unchristian."

My enemies at once decided on my expulsion. Their purpose was to cast me out at the following Conference, and Mr. Allin published a small tract in reply to my article on Human Creeds, to prepare the minds of the people for the intended measure. He published it just before Conference, when he supposed it would be impossible for me to prepare a reply before the Body a.s.sembled. I never saw it till the evening of Thursday, the day but one before that on which I was to leave home for the distant place where the Conference was to meet. But I wrote a reply the same night, and got it printed, and in less than twenty-four hours it was circulating in every direction. I had been able to show that my opponent's arguments proved just the contrary of what they were brought forward to prove. I also showed that the views advocated in my article were the views of Mr. Kilham, the founder of the Body to which we all belonged, and were, in fact, the views of some of the best and ablest men that the Church universal had ever produced. I gave quite a mult.i.tude of quotations justifying my article to the very letter. The effect was astounding. The people saw at once that I was right. My enemies were confounded. They were paralyzed. And I was saved.

But it was only for a time. The contest had lasted so long, and had produced such a fearful amount of unhappy feeling between me and my opponents, that reconciliation and comfortable co-operation had become impossible. It could not be expected that a powerful party would rest content under a defeat; and it was not in me to give up my efforts to bring about a better state of things in the Connexion. And hence a renewal of the unhappy strife.

It is natural to suppose that my enemies would now be anxious to get rid of me, and would watch for a suitable occasion to cast me out; and my ideas of duty were such, that it was impossible for me long to refrain from giving them the opportunity they desired. I did it as follows.

1. The early churches provided for their poor members. The Quakers, the Moravians, and the early Methodists did the same. This exercise of brotherly love is enjoined by Christ and His Apostles. I urged this duty on the church to which I belonged. I preached and published a sermon on the subject, and circulated a number of tracts on the same point, published by others.

2. The travelling preachers had a Fund, called the Beneficent Fund, for the support of superannuated preachers and preachers' widows. Some of the rules of this fund seemed to me to be anti-christian, and I labored to get them altered. I also recommended that there should be a fund for worn-out and needy local preachers.

3. Members of the churches mingled with drunkards, profligates, and infidels, in benefit societies, and many other a.s.sociations. This seemed to me to be very objectionable, and plainly unscriptural, and I recommended that they should come out from such societies, and form a.s.sociations for good objects among themselves.

4. Wesley had provided cheap books and pamphlets for his societies, and I urged the Conference to do the same for ours. I wrote letters to the Annual Committee, the representatives of the Connexion, showing that books published at eight or ten s.h.i.+llings a volume, could be supplied at one or one and sixpence. I reminded them of the fact that the Book-room had abundance of spare capital which might be profitably used in such a work, and I pointed out the advantages likely to result from the encouragement of thoughtful and studious habits among the people. I published a pamphlet on the subject, ent.i.tled _The Church and the Press_, showing that the churches might almost monopolize the supply of books, and become the teachers and the rulers of the nations, I said, "If the Church at large would do its duty, every dark place on earth might be visited, and the seeds of truth and righteousness sown in every part of the globe in a few years." With regard to our own Connexion I said, "Our Magazine and Book-room, which ought to be promoting the intellectual and religious improvement of the Connexion and the world, are doing just nothing at all, or next to nothing. The leading articles of the Magazine are among the dullest and most useless things ever printed. The Book-room, which has capital enough to publish thirty or forty new books a year, does not issue one. An inst.i.tution which ought to be filling the Connexion and the country generally with the light and blessings of Christianity, and which is capable of being made a blessing to the world at large, is allowed to 'stand there all the day idle.'"

I then proposed, as a means of stimulating the Book Committee and the Editor of the Magazine to greater activity, that I and my friends should be allowed to publish a periodical, and to establish a Book-room, at our own expense. The proposal was not only rejected, but even treated as a capital offence.

5. I had labored hard against the infidel socialists, lecturing against them in almost all the large towns in the kingdom, and I was, to a great extent, the means of breaking up their societies. But my contests with those infidels made me more sensible of the necessity of abandoning all human additions to Christ's doctrine, and of having nothing to defend but the beautiful and beneficent principles of pure unadulterated Christianity. Hence I became still less of a sectarian in my belief, and more and more of a simple Christian, and I labored to promote a stricter conformity to the teachings of Christ among ministers and Christians generally.

6. I wrote against the waste of G.o.d's money by professing Christians in luxurious living and vain show, and exhorted the rich to employ their surplus wealth in doing good.

7. That it might not be said that I received pay from the church for doing one kind of work while I employed a portion of my time in doing others, I gave up my salary, and refused to receive anything from the circuit in which I was stationed, except what was given me as a free-will offering.

8. I withdrew from the preachers' benefit society, resolved, in case of sickness or old age, to trust for a supply of my wants to the providence of G.o.d.