WHO

HO and what is the Pope? It is hard to tell who he is; no family register of Italian monks and priests being kept in this country; none, at least, that is so far free from blots and breaks as to afford relief from doubt. It may be more easy to say what the Pope is; at all events it is not difficult to tell what he is not. He is not a prophet. That is clear. In the course of September, 1870, he declared, with all the solemn force which a Pope can command, that the royal troops of Victor Emmanuel would never enter the city of Rome. They did enter, nevertheless. Is Pius IX. a false prophet? He foretold, too, that if he, as master of the ceremonies, did not act his part in the usual Easter festivities, there would be a failure in the income from the European sight-seers whose religion is made up of "lo, here!" or lo, there!" He put in no appearance. He withheld his But there was no loss. priestly benediction. The festival did pay after all, even in Rome. So the poor old man was a false prophet again. That is, he was no prophet! Is he a priest, then? It seems not. On the most solemn of all occasions at Rome he failed, this year, to act his priestly part. He would neither wash the disciples' feet, nor give anybody a blessing, either from St. Peter's balcony or St. Peter's altar, though the blessing from either would not be very weighty. would not be a priest for his foes' sake, and so his friends necessarily lost the benefit of his priesthood. Therefore he is no priest; for when he declines the priesthood, the priesthood has no existence, in his case at least, seeing that his decisions are infallible! When he says "no," it must be no!

He

He is no

priest. What is he, then? Is he a monarch? Woe betide us were it so! Then we should all be slaves. Victoria herself would be a serf! He would like to be a prince if he could. The Pope was a prince at one time, and more. Not by right. For what right can a monk or a priest have to temporal empire as a monk or priest? None. But what a man has no right to either by nature or by law, he may lay hold of under the suffrages of custom or fashion. And hence, in modern times, the newsmongering public listen without impatience or question while their daily paper persuades them that "the graceful interchange of courtesies which has taken place at Rome, between the Pope and

the Heir Apparent to the British crown strangely illustrates the vicissitudes of time and feeling!" Courtesies, indeed! By what law of courtesy are Protestant princes called to pay court to a foreign ecclesiastic? Would crown princes of Europe think it necessary or becoming to wait on the Archbishop of Canterbury, and pay their respects as to an equal or superior? Would not the Bishop rather Iwait on them? And has Canterbury less claim than Rome to equality of compliment? What right has an Italian ecclesiastic to the obsequious visits of royalty? Italians themselves are learning to put the Pope where he should be. Let English Protestants know their place, and let the Pope keep his. What is he? Anything but a spiritual sovereign, "One is your Master, even Christ; and all ye are brethren." What is he? Not even a spiritual representative of Christ, if the style of Easter festivities in Rome give true evidence. England is bad enough on Christian festival days; but Rome is unspeakably worse. Professed English Protestants, and those even who affect the deeper piety, can make the memorial-day of the Crucifixion a time of recreation and jollity; but they would not, like the Pope's disciples in Rome, parody the sacred and awful realities of Calvary. Roman "Punch" might be expected to picture the Crucifixion for the amusement of Popish laughers; and show the King of Prussia, in the guise of a Roman soldier, piercing a golden "Napoleon" hung on the Cross, while France, in the shape of a Mary, stands weeping below. But this Easter, a religious illustrated paper, under Papal patronage, sets forth a Roman official in the act of presenting the law which guarantees the Pope's salary as a crown of thorns, while Father Gavazzi figures as a Judas chuckling over his thirty pieces of silver. So reverent has Rome become after so many ages of Popish government, teaching, and example! Let Protestants watch against a popular tendency to flippant modes of treating things that are really sacred; and earnestly pray to be kept faithful to the purer principles and more consistent teaching of the religion they profess. "Come out of her, My people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues." (Rev. xviii.

4.)

The

N

ATURE seems to have given the advantage to woman in quickness and accuracy of insight into human character. This gift is rather an instinctive feeling than a rational judgment. But it is true to its owner; and in certainty and depth of discrimination more than rivals men's power of looking into one another. When this discerning sense is brought to its most refined power by long observation, it becomes to the woman herself a happy secret of mental wealth; and when it is associated with good memory and agreeable powers of language, and its exercise is regulated by a pure heart, cultured intellect, and amiable temper, it seems to be always renewing the fascination of a woman's character, and makes her company as instructive as it is charming. In many cases the charm does not disappear even in extreme age. deed, sometimes it brightens as age advances; and the ripe character becomes more lovable as it puts forth that beauty which is distinctive of the heavenly border-land. A beautiful example there was-yea, rather, is, for

In

to her Saviour and her fellow-pilgrims she is always living. The first interview with this "widow indeed" is never to be forgotten. It was on a summer afternoon in the country, when everything felt quiet and cool after a refreshing shower. In a retired villa a few miles out of London, amidst fruit-trees, roses, honeysuckles, and jasmine, there was a summer-like drawing-room looking out, on one side, upon a lawn bounded by stately trees and fringed with flowers, and on the other, opening into a little paradise of a conservatory; there the dear old woman sat in a small elbow-chair, and looked a pattern of antique simplicity and gracefulness. She was dressed in a black silk gown, open at the neck so as to show a snowy neckerchief folded and pinned under the chin; with a small, neatly-fringed, cream-coloured shawl brought over the shoulders and fastened at the waist in front, with its corners falling over a white muslin apron. She wore a mobbed cap, with a modest crown and a neat close border, yet not so close as to hide a clear, open brow,

H

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beautiful still; and it seemed more sweetly beautiful with its silvered locks than when it had been more richly adorned in the prime of womanhood. The charming old saint's face inspired loving veneration-a fair complexion, beautifully touched with fresh colour. Her eyes revealed a spiritual depth of kindness and peace. Her features combined to express power, perspicacity, gentleness, repose, and love. And there was something in the expression which inspired the thought of a transforming process already begun between mortal age and immortal youth. In opinion, taste, and feeling, she was an amiable representative of the last century. Used to close and acute observation, well-informed, remarkable for good sense, with a tenacious memory, and pleasant command of her native English, she was one of the few gifted elders who can really help a later generation to realize the life of older times. She was not without humour; and sometimes she seemed to enjoy a quiet satirical fling at modern inconsistency where it laid itself open. A specimen of her manner just now comes to mind. A lady disciple from among the "Plymouth Brethren" had called on her; and, with characteristic zeal against the claims of all communities but her own, had proclaimed her own privilege of breaking bread" in contrast with the usual Christian mode of commemorating the Lord's Supper; and then expressed her objection to the ordinance on the ground that improper characters might come to it, and that it was likely to make people hypocrites or keep them so.

"But," said our venerable friend, "is the character of all who 'break bread' with you, in your way, such as it ought to be?"

66

Well," replied the zealous sister, with some hesitation, "it may be-a-perhaps not all."

"O then," retorted the shrewd old Churchwoman, "you must allow me to believe that our hypocrites are as good as yours!"

It was always, indeed, pleasant to hear keen questions, smart criticisms, and lively sallies from a woman who had narrowly watched the world for nearly a hundred years. But the greatest treat was to hear her talk of the past, till it appeared to live again. Jottings of a conversation with her in her ninety-third year have been pre

served:-

"Did you know Mr. Wesley, Mrs. W--d?"

"Know Mr. Wesley! Yes, indeed, I know him! It seems but yesterday since, young

and sprightly as I was, his voice and smile made me feel so cheerfully at home in his company. How often I wish that everybody would think of him as I do! Many of those who know him from books, or from hearsay, think of him only as a great reformer, great preacher, spiritual ruler, or maker of Church laws; a man of spirit-searching speech and strict discipline; a stern man, hard and unbending but no book that I know pictures him entirely as he was. They put the dear little man on stilts, dress him like an old military monk in chain armour, or make him look like some of the portraits in the 'Arminian Magazine.' It is true that at times he looked like a man who had learnt to be 'steadfast and immovable,' one who enjoyed a quiet assurance that his 'labour was not in vain in the Lord.' But, ah! you should see him, too, as I have seen him at my aunt's, or when he was free to chat in his carriage. how often kindness used to play upon his face like spring sunlight! How often you could look through the windows of his eyes and see the gentleness that lived in his soul! Then you should see the twinkle of his eye when a bit of fun was tickling his heart. I remember the quiet waggery of his look one morning at my aunt's. It was at Bradford in Wiltshire, the last time I saw him, I think. He had slept at our house. And when he came down in the morning he said, as we sat down,—

O

"Sister Dole, your bed is like a true Englishman.'

"What do you mean, Mr. Wesley?' said my aunt.

666 Why,' said he, 'it never flinches !'

"Dear man! his bed had been hard. I laughed, though I was sorry. Ah! I love to think of him as he was that morning-his wit so sweetly toned, his humour in such innocent play with his goodness."

"Your recollection of him, Mrs. W――d, serves to sustain that estimate of his humour, wit, and subdued satirical power, which a few passages in his Journal, and some occasional strokes in his controversial papers, would lead us to form. He records his first visit to Bradford, for instance, in a way which reveals a slight play of waggish feeling. 'Tuesday, July 17th, 1739,' he says, 'I rode to Bradford, five miles from Bath, whither I had been long invited to come. I waited on the minister, and desired leave to preach in his church. He said it was not usual to preach on the week-days; but if I could come thither on a Sunday he should be glad of my assistance. Thence I

went to a gentleman in the town, who had been present when I preached at Bath, and, with the strongest marks of sincerity and affection, wished me good luck in the name of the Lord. But it was past, I found him now quite cold. He began disputing on several heads; and at last told me plainly, one of our own College had informed him they always took me to be a little crack-brained at Oxford!' But he more evidently enjoys a laugh about the mobbing he met with in Bradford just thirty years afterwards. You will remember the story, I dare say, and may have seen the 'twinkle of his eye,' as you called it, while he talked of it during his later visits in more quiet times. A gentleman in the town,' he tells us, 'desired me to preach at his door. The beasts of the people were tolerably quiet till I had nearly finished my sermon. They then lifted up their voice, especially one, called a gentleman, who had filled his pocket with rotten eggs. But a young man coming unawares, clapped his hands on each side and smashed them all at once. In an instant he was perfume all over, though it was not so sweet as balsam!' This seems to have

66

been the only instance of indecent interruption he ever encountered at Bradford. His notes about affairs there generally refer to congregations 'well dressed and well bred,' and sometimes showing the spirit of 'hungering and thirsting after righteousness.' But your memory, Mrs. W--d, must afford you a variety of pleasing associations with early Methodism in Bradford ?"

"Yes, I have many happy remembrances of many good Christians; many belonging to what Mr. Wesley called ' our old steady congregation at Bradford.' Such as good Mrs. Ballard, whose spirit 'joyfully returned to God' from a life of depressing affliction. And Samuel Rayner, in whose house Mr. Wesley was cured of what he confessed had been his vulgar errors about nightingales, that they will not live in cages, nor sing more than a month or two in the year. Samuel Rayner had three nightingales caged; and they sang all day long, and even in November. Then I have very pleasant recollections of one happy pilgrim's home, where many dear servants of God used to come. Dear little meeting-place! I must tell you about it.”

"And He gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ."-EPн. iv. 11, 12.

THE two chapels mentioned in the last

THE

chapter were the head-quarters of Methodism in London and Bristol; but there were many other places, both indoors and out, where the Wesleys preached occasionally.

As Whitefield never stayed long in one place, but was always roving in search of fresh congregations, the two brothers became responsible for attending to the Societies. As it was impossible for them to supply all at the same time, they chose some of the more spiritual and intelligent men to preside in their absence. Cennick, whose desertion we have already mentioned, was appointed at Bristol, and Thomas Maxfield at the Foundery. They were to hold prayer-meetings, to exhort

and talk to the people, but not to preach. Mr. Wesley's gradual progress had not yet brought him to the point of authorizing unordained men to preach; though as we, free from the prejudices of an education in the Established Church, look back this upon arrangement, it seems hard to decide what was the difference between preaching and exhorting. Speaking from a text could scarcely be wrong, if speaking without one was right.

Thomas Maxfield was one of those who had gone through violent convulsions before finding "peace with God;" and when his soul was set at liberty his joy and zeal could ill bear such restraints. Encouraged by the numbers who eagerly listened to his exhortations, he took more pains to prepare his discourses, till they became capital sermons. Many were greatly blessed; but as there is some grumbler always at hand, Mr. Wesley received information of these irregular pro

100

ceedings. He went back at once to London,and spoke to his mother about the matter, as soon as he arrived.

It was well he did so, for as Mrs. Wesley was then living at the Foundery, she had heard Maxfield several times, and was convinced that he had a call to this work. She advised her son to say nothing till he had heard the young man himself; and with that willingness to lay aside prejudices which is the mark of a truly great mind, Wesley yielded. Indeed he was so thoroughly convinced, that he employed Maxfield without hesitation, and as occasion required called other lay helpers into "the vineyard."

In the year 1742 the Class-meeting took its present form, and became a fixed institution of Methodism.

Now, too, some members of the Society who desired 66 means of still closer union" were divided into smaller and more select companies called "bands," men and women meeting apart, each band, like each class, under the guidance of a leader. At the larger meetings of the Society, speeches, or exhortations, or accounts of personal experience were mingled with singing and prayer. Sometimes a devout book would be read aloud, and then a conversation on what had been read might follow.

The Wesleys frequently met the whole Society, and spoke to each one about his soul; but it was plainly impossible for them to do this every week.

The building and maintaining of chapels, and other necessary expenses, by this time required a large sum, and John Wesley called a meeting in Bristol to decide how it could be met. It was proposed that every member of Society should give a penny a week till the debt was cleared off. Some objected that many of the members were too poor to pay even that small sum. A generous man arose, and offered to make himself responsible for a shilling a week from himself and eleven other members, promising to pay the pennies for the poor ones. This plan was immediately carried out-the Society was divided into sets orclasses of twelve, one of whom was provided with a collecting-paper, and was expected to get a shilling from that class weekly. From the first it was understood that those who could afford it should give more than one penny, to make up for those who gave nothing; and, considering that a penny in those days would buy more (food, at any rate,) than it will now, it is well to remember that this sum was not fixed as the standard of giving

in all cases, but only as the starting-point for those who could not afford more.

Mr. Wesley now authorized these collectors to act as leaders of their classes, and to receive the weekly pence at their weekly religious meetings. This was the foundation of the Methodist Class-meeting. The plan worked so well in Bristol, that it was soon adopted in London and other places.

Little more than three years had passed since Wesley returned from Germany, but in this time he and his brother had travelled well-nigh over England, preaching the Gospel. They had met with very varied treatment: sometimes the people were stupidly indifferent, sometimes overwhelmed with joy and gratitude. But in many instances lawless mobs violently assaulted the preacher. These were too often led on by so-called gentlemen, and even by clergymen. These last were offended at any one interfering with their work, while, like the dog in the manger, they would not do it themselves. When the converted colliers at Kingswood went devoutly to church in Bristol that they might receive the Sacrament, the clergy refused to give it them, because they did not belong to that parish, and because it was too much work to attend to so many.

Happily, it is now rare to meet with a case of clergymen persecuting Methodists, but they have not quite ceased; and much as we regret to repeat such shameful scenes, yet in justice to those holy men and women who endured such things, we must refer to a few.

At Pensford, near Bristol, a company of roughs, hired by some who had more pence than sense, drove a baited bull against Mr. Wesley's congregation. But God, Who shut the mouths of the lions that they should not devour Daniel, controlled even a maddened bull. For an hour the service went on, while the animal was driven first on one side of the congregation and then on the other, but his tormentors could not make him charge the crowd. At length, when the poor thing was weak and tired, the rabble closed round, and dragging it up to the table on which Mr. Wesley stood, shoved the unresisting beast against it. Wesley gently put its head on one side that the blood might not drip on his clothes, and stood firm. Atlast the table was upset, and some of his friends'seized Wesley and literally carried him off to a little distance, where he finished his sermon. The mob satisfied themselves by tearing the table to bits.

At Sheffield, Charles Wesley was struck by several stones, while preaching, one even