6

"3. We have received it as a maxim that a man is to do nothing in order to justification.' Nothing can be more false. Whosoever desires to find favour with God, should cease from evil and learn to do well. Whoever repents, should do works meet for repentance. And if this is not in order to find favour, what does he do them for?

"Review the whole affair.

"1. Who of us is now accepted of God?

"He that now believes in Christ, with a loving obedient heart.

"2. But who among those that never heard of Christ?

"He that feareth God, and worketh righteousness according to the light he has.

"3. Is this the same with He that is sincere?'

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Nearly, if not quite.

'4. Is not this' Salvation by works?'

"Not by the merit of works, but by works as a condition.

"5. What have we then been disputing about, for these thirty years?

"I am afraid, about words.

"6. As to merit itself, of which we have been so dreadfully afraid: we are rewarded, according to our works, yea, because of our works. How does this differ from for the sake of our works? from secundum merita operum? Can you split this hair?

"I doubt, I cannot.

And how differs this As our works deserve?

"7. The grand objection to one of the preceding propositions, is drawn from matter of fact. God does in fact justify those who by their own confession, neither

COMMOTION. TREVECCA.

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feared God nor wrought righteousness. Is this an exception to the general rule?

"It is a doubt God makes any exception at all. But how are we sure that the person in question never did fear God and work righteousness? His own saying so is not proof: for we know how all convinced of sin undervalue themselves in every respect.

"8. Does not talking of a justified or a sanctified state tend to mislead men? Almost naturally leading them to trust in what was done in one moment? Whereas we are every hour and every moment pleasing or displeasing to God, according to our works? According to the whole of our inward tempers, and outward behaviour."

Such were the extraordinary declarations in the minutes of this important conference, of which even Watson' acknowledges" that they gave the appearance of inconsistency to Mr. Wesley's opinions, and indicated a tendency to run to one extreme, in order to avoid another." No sooner were they made known, than they excited a commotion unparalleled in the history of modern controversies, and unhappily characterized by uncharitable violence. It was a perfect uproar. Lady Huntingdon was indignant beyond measure, and called upon all the students and masters of her college at Trevecca, either to disavow these Minutes in writing, or to quit the college. Mr. Fletcher, the superintendent, gave in his opinion, acknowledging the wording of the Minutes to be unguarded, but vindicating their substance. He accordingly withdrew from his post to become a champion on the other side, sincerely believing that he should

1 In his Life of Wesley.

be able to give "a check to Antinomianism."

However, the principal persons attacked abhorred this monstrous error as much as he did, and were most unfairly accused of favouring it. Nor was the serious alarm of Lady Huntingdon unfounded, since Wesley was brought to acknowledge his expressions not to have been "sufficiently guarded," and Fletcher confessed they wore “a new aspect," and that at first they appeared to him "unguarded, if not erroneous." Poor Whitfield probably little thought what a tumult was about to be raised. He was dying in America; and in his last hours breathed peace and love to his old antagonist, choosing him to preach his funeral sermon, and bequeathing to him a memorial of his regard. The inhabitants of the province of Georgia mourned deeply over Whitfield's removal, and indicated their respect for the memory of their affectionate and zealous missionary, by every possible appendage of grief and reverence. All the black cloth in the stores was bought up, and the pulpit and desks of the church, the branches, the organ loft, as well as the pews of the Governor and Council, were covered with black. The public functionaries also put on the deepest mourning, and went in procession from the State House to the Church, where the organ played a funeral dirge as the solemn train came in. Wesley received the announcement of his death on Saturday, Nov. 10, 1770, and retired to Lewisham on the Monday following to write his funeral sermon. The next Sunday he went to preach it at the chapel in Tottenham-court-road. "An immense multitude," he says in his Journal, "was gathered together from all corners of the town. I was at first afraid that a great part of

1 He died of Asthma, Sept. 30, 1770.

HIS FUNERAL SERMON BY J. WESLEY.

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the congregation would not be able to hear; but it pleased God to strengthen my voice, that even those at the door heard distinctly. It was an awful season: all were as still as night: most appeared to be deeply affected, and an impression was made on many, which one would hope will not speedily be effaced. The time appointed for my beginning at the Tabernacle was half an hour after five, but it was quite filled at three, so I began at four. At first the noise was exceedingly great, but it ceased when I began to speak; and my voice was again so strengthened, that all who were within could hear, unless an accidental noise hindered here or there for a few moments. O that all may hear the voice of Him, with whom are the issues of life and death, and who so loudly, by this unexpected stroke, calls all his children to love one another." Still the admirers of Whitfield felt that they could have nothing more to do with Wesley, while his objectionable Minutes remained as they were.

Among these, no person expressed a stronger sense of indignation than Mr. Richard Hill. He adopted a singular and original method of testing the Wesleyan opinions. In the summer of 1771, he went with his friend Mr. Powys and a clergyman to Paris, carrying out with him a copy of the Minutes. While there, he was curious to see what impression they would make on a Roman Catholic, so he took his friends to the convent of English Benedictine Monks, when the following conversation took place between two of them and Father Welsh, the Superior :

Clergyman. Sir, I suppose you have often heard of the different sects amongst the Protestants in England? Superior. Very often, Sir.

Clergyman. Have

Have you ever heard of the Methodists? Superior. Yes, Sir, very often.

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CONVERSATION IN A CONVENT.

Clergyman. I can shew you their tenets, settled by some of their chiefs at their last Conference at London. Here they are.

After the Superior had carefully perused them, he was asked by the

Clergyman. Do you agree with that doctrine, Sir? Superior. No, indeed, Sir, we do not hold such principles as those.

Clergyman. What fault do you find with them?
Superior. They are too near Pelagianism.

Mr. Hill. The principles of the Roman Catholic Church are nearer the Church of England than those? Superior. A great deal, Sir. Those of that paper are too near Pelagianism; the author is a Pelagian.

Clergyman. What do you think of the author's asserting that those who are convinced of sin undervalue themselves in every respect; do you think sinners can undervalue themselves?

Superior. No, by no means; having too high thoughts of themselves makes them live in sin.

Clergyman. Can we have any good in us before Justification?

Superior. Certainly not; our Justification is by Christ alone; for if St. Paul says, that we are not sufficient of ourselves to have a good thought, how much less to perform good works?

Clergyman. Can we cease to do evil and learn to do well, before Faith?

Superior. No, we cannot.

Clergyman. St. Paul saith, whatsoever is not of faith, is sin.

Clergyman. I wish, Sir, you would, favour us with strictures upon that paper in writing?