JOHN WESLEY IN COLLEGE
By S. N. Haskell
WHILE in college, John Wesley was continually revolving in his mind the fundamental principles and doctrines of Christianity. He had not as yet comprehended the Scriptural simplicity of justification through faith, but depended rather upon his own works as the means of purification, feeling daily conscious of a lack of harmony with God. Such a harmony, or peace with God as admits of no remorseful sense of guilt, was his ideal of personal religion. Could it be attained? and if so would it not be a matter of consciousness? Did not the Scriptures teach that the Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirits that we are the children of God?” Was there not also a Christian perfection taught in the Scriptures; “a perfect love which casteth out all fear.” Not perfection according to the absolute moral law of God, but in its accommodated relation to our fallen race, through the atonement. His vigilant mother, who seems to have been providentially guided, not only in forming his character in early life, but in judiciously directing his mind in after years, strengthened by her letters the tendency of his mind at this time. “And now,” said she, “in good earnest, resolve to make religion the business of your life; for that is the one thing, strictly speaking, that is necessary. All things besides, are comparatively little to the purposes of life. I heartily wish you would now enter upon a strict examination of yourself, that you may know whether you have a reasonable hope of salvation through Jesus Christ. If you have the satisfaction of knowing this it will abundantly reward your pains; if you have not, you will find a more reasonable occasion for tears than can be met with in any tragedy.” From the Calvinistic doctrine of predestination John Wesley dissented. “That which contradicts reason,” says he, “cannot be said to stand upon reasonable grounds; and such, undoubtedly, is every proposition which is compatible with divine justice or mercy. If it was inevitably decreed from eternity that a determinate part of mankind should be saved, and none besides, then a vast majority of the world are born to eternal death, without so much as a possibility of avoiding it. Is it merciful to ordain a creature to everlasting misery? Is it just to punish a man for crimes which he could not but commit? That God should be the author of sin and injustice, which must, I think, be the consequence of maintaining this opinion, is a contradiction to the clearest ideas we have of the divine nature and perfections.” His mother confirmed him in these views. “God’s prescience,” she argued, “is no more the effective cause of the loss of the wicked than our foreknowledge of the rising of to-morrow’s sun is the cause of its rising.” Although not at this time associated together, Charles Wesley’s experience was similar to that of his brother’s. At one period in his early experience John Wesley was inclined to a monastic life. This was attributable, in a large degree, to his study of Rempis’ “Imitation,” and other works of an ascetic character. At this time his mother writes him as follows: “I take Rempis to have been an honest, weak man, who had more zeal than knowledge, by his condemning all mirth or pleasure as sinful or useless, in opposition to so many direct and plain texts of Scripture.” She told him that God had a better work for him to do. Wesley also consulted others upon this subject. “Sir,” said one man who seemed inspired with the right words at the right moment, “Sir, you wish to serve God and go to Heaven; remember you cannot serve him alone; you must therefore find companions or make them.” These words were never forgotten by John Wesley, still his daily habits of life were decidedly monastical in their character. The rector of Epworth drawing near his end, entreated John to become his successor, and at his death preserve the family from dispersion. This appeal was an affecting one, and the son has been reproached for not accepting it, but he was steadfast in his conviction that a different course of life devolved upon him; and his thoughtful mother seems not to have joined her husband in attempting to divert him from it. The rector died, the family was scattered, and the Epworth rectory faded from history. Soon the disinterestedness of the young divine, in refusing a quiet21rectory, and the comforts of a parental home was tested. General Oglethorpe, the friend and correspondent of his father, was about to conduct a reinforcement to the colony of Georgia, and, in company with his brother Charles, he consented to go to America as a missionary to the aborigines, providing his mother, who was dependent upon her children, would consent. Her reply was such as might be expected by such a woman. “If I had twenty sons,” said she, “I should rejoice that they were so employed, though I should never see them again.”