Who was Charles Wesley?

Samuel Wesley, the father of the celebrated John and Charles Wesley, was of Puritanical descent, and, marrying a daughter of Dr. Annesley-one of the ejected ministers-the mother came from an eminent Nonconformist family. When the revolution was effected, Mr. Wesley was the first who wrote in favour of that great national change, and dedicated his work to Queen Mary, who rewarded him with the rectory of Epworth, in Lincolnshire. Here, John, their second son, the founder of the Methodists, was born in June, 1703. After receiving an early education at Charterhouse school, he proceeded to Christchurch, Oxford, where his brother Charles, who was several years younger, joined him in 1727. From reading such books as Thomas a Kempis' "Imitation of Christ," and Jeremy Taylor's "Rules of Holy Living and Dying," they became extremely troubled about the salvation of their souls, but were dark as midnight as to the simple gospel-the way of salvation through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Having been baptized, and received the sacrament, they thought, as they had been taught, and as almost every one else believed at that time, that they could only hope to be saved by persisting in good works to the end of their days. This they tried, as Luther and Calvin had done before them; but, so far from being satisfied, they became every day more and more miserable. The God of all grace had touched their hearts, and created a void which nothing could fill but the knowledge of Christ in His Person and finished work.

In this troubled state of soul the Wesleys, with two or three others, held private meetings during the week for the promotion of personal piety, and rigidly observed all the rules prescribed by the University statutes. The strictness of their lives, and the regularity of their habits, brought down upon them the contempt and scorn of their godless fellow-students, who called them "Bible moths," "methodists," and "the holy club."

C. Wesley (1707-88).

Though born of pious parents, Wesley appears to have had little anxiety of soul until after entering Christ Church College, Oxford, in his seventeenth year. Here his mother wrote him, exhorting him, "in good, earnest resolve to make religion the business of your life; for after all, that is the one thing that, strictly speaking, is necessary." His father, too, encouraged him to read a book called the "Imitation of Jesus Christ," written in Germany by a monk named Thomas à Kempis, about the year 1450. This book, as might be expected, instead of helping him, only made him the more miserable. He wrote his mother telling her that, after all his efforts to be good, he felt himself becoming worse, and that he found it impossible to do all the things which the author of the "Imitation" said we ought to do. He begged her to spend every Thursday evening in earnest prayer for him.

At the age of twenty-two he was chosen fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford. Here he resolved to form no new acquaintances, excepting those who would help him to lead a holy life. He had become a clergyman, and determined to give himself up entirely to the great work of becoming holy. He partook of the Lord's supper weekly, gave alms to the poor, and spent his time only in that which he believed to be useful and good.

In August, 1727, he returned to Epworth to be his father's curate. He still read Thomas à Kempis, and thought seriously of shutting himself up like a monk, and spending his life in seclusion in one of the dales of Yorkshire. But in November, 1729, he returned again to Oxford, where, with his brother Charles and others, he set about with renewed earnestness to save himself by fasting and good works. The little band appointed John to draw up a set of rules for their use. These rules were extremely strict, as he supposed that the more they did of those things which they naturally disliked, the more acceptable to God they would become.

Other young men joined themselves to them as time passed, and they were called the "holy club." But one of their number appears to have obtained peace with God. Ten years later in looking over the letters of these young men, Wesley said, "I found but one among all my correspondents who declared, what I well remember at that time I knew not how to understand, that God had shed abroad His love in his heart, and given him 'the peace that passes all understanding.' But who believed his report? Should I conceal a sad truth, or declare it for the profit of others? He was expelled out of his society as a madman, and being disowned by his friends, and despised and forsaken of all men, lived obscure and unknown for a few months, and then went to Him whom his soul loved."

But there must intervene a long period of banishment, labour and adversity; and so we find Jacob "because the sun was set" lying down lonely and obscure on a stone-pillow at Luz. It is all very well for such as Burton (quoting from Seneca and Boethius) to say that "banishment is no grievance at all,"¶ and merely to change localities. But it is a bitter sorrow to most people; and especially to those who love their kin, and have the living tendrils of strong affections thus broken. Yet are there consolations and compensations even in this: the daylight of prosperity puts out the light of the heavenly spheres; but when darkness comes, then do we behold the ineffable glories of the celestial constellations. They were (like Hagar's well) there all the time; but we see them not till the kind night reveals to us the splendour of the stellar radiance. "Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous, God has written in those stars." It is thus when outcast and lonely, that the servants of God have received their loftiest visions of rapt and holy ecstasy: that Moses in the desert sees the burning bush; that Ezekiel in Assyria sees the gorgeous cherubim; that Daniel in Elam saw the panorama of the world's history; that the ascetic Baptist in the wilderness of Jordan, saw Him on whom the Spirit descended; that john at Patmos, turning to hear the voice that spoke to him in his desolation, saw his Master invested with the loftiest attributes. It was thus in later times that Augustine, secluded at Cassiciacum, Luther at Wartburg, and Farel at Neuchatel, found the same divine Master in an especial way comforting their loneliness and sustaining their purposes; thus that Rutherford found in his "sea-beat prison, My Lord and I kept tryst;" and thus when Charles Wesley was mobbed and hunted, he crept into an outhouse and gave birth to that holy poem which has comforted so many millions, "Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly!" [¶ Anat. p. 405, but, p. 242, he says it is "a great misery."]

And it has been true right down through the history of the testimony. There are many hymnbooks in use today amongst Christians, and most of the hymns that are sung are the products of revivals of one kind or another. Whenever there is a real revival amongst the people of God, with the power of the Spirit in activity amongst them, with blessing for the unconverted, blessing for the saints of God, we find that there is a rich addition of hymns to the Lord and to God, the Father, because of what has been achieved. If you search this out you will find that this is true. Take, for instance, the marvellous enrichment to hymnology in the Methodist revival through the hymns of Charles and John Wesley; hymns that are still being sung today with fervour and feeling and value. The brethren revival too has contributed many rich hymns of worth and depth and value, and many other revivals have contributed in the same way, hymns of worth, the product of conflict and victory. And we would trust that there would yet be a revival of interest amongst the people of God. There will yet be a time of blessing in answer to the end of Revelation for the unconverted, "let him that is athirst come" (22:17). We would desire to see this before the coming of the Lord, and if it were so, then I think we could anticipate many spiritual compositions of worth and depth and feeling.

Some of the hymns that we sing are very old, almost as old as the Christian church. “Shepherd of tender youth,” for instance, was written by Clement of Alexandria, who was born about the year 160 and died in 217. Another hymn that we often sing, “A shameful death He dies,” was written by an unknown author in the ninth century and translated by W. J. Blew from the Latin. Others, like “Lord Jesus, think on me,” were written much earlier. That hymn is attributed to Synesius (375-430), and was translated from the Greek. “Saviour, the very thought of Thee,” and “O Head once full of bruises,” were written in Latin, and are evidently from the pen of Bernard of Clairvaux, who lived from 1091 to 1153. Much later many German hymns were translated by John Wesley, who, with his brother Charles, composed many hymns as well. About the same time Isaac Watts, not satisfied with singing only Psalms, composed a prolific number of hymns, which we still sing. He lived from 1674 to 1748. In the last century there was an awakening in France, and many hymns were written during that time. César Malan and Henri Rossier are two of the best-known authors of this period, and some of their hymns have been translated into English and other languages. In England John Nelson Darby and Sir Edward Denny composed many hymns that we still enjoy singing. During the last century the “gospel hymn” came into being. Some of these are still favourites, although many are sentimental, and not always spiritually sound. This century has also developed a slightly different form of “song”. Some of the recent compositions are based wholly on verses of Scripture, which is certainly commendable, although the practice in some quarters of singing the same words over and over again detracts from the appreciation of the text.

God — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — as revealed in "the Scriptures of truth," can alone satisfy those strange, mysterious longings of the human heart. Cast thyself, then, unreservedly on His grace in Christ, and let Him satisfy and fill thine empty, weary heart, for it is written: "He satisfies the longing soul." — O for a thousand tongues to sing My great Redeemer's praise; The glories of my God and King, The triumphs of His grace! My gracious Master and my God, Assist me to proclaim — To spread through all the earth abroad The honors of Thy Name. Jesus! — the Name that charms our fears, That bids our sorrows cease; 'Tis music in the sinner's ears, 'Tis life, and health, and peace. He breaks the power of cancelled sin He sets the pris'ner free; His blood can make the foulest clean; His blood availed for me. He speaks, — and, list'ning to His voice, New life the dead receive; The mournful, broken hearts rejoice, The humble poor believe. Hear Him, ye deaf; His praise, ye dumb, Your loosened tongues employ! Ye blind, behold your Saviour come; And leap, ye lame, for joy! C. Wesley.

Charles and John Wesley were then studying at Oxford, and had gathered around them some religious companions, who were wont to meet together for mutual help and encouragement. Whitfield soon heard of this little company, and longed much to get acquainted with the two brothers, who were thus seeking to influence others for good. After he had been in Oxford about a year, a circumstance occurred, which brought him into contact with these young men, in a very simple way. Becoming interested in the sad case of a poor woman who had endeavoured to commit suicide, he wished much to help her morally, but knew not how to set to work. He thought of Charles Wesley as the most suitable person to advise, and therefore sent to enquire, if he would see her. The messenger was directed not to give Whitefield's name, but did so, and the result was an invitation from Wesley, to breakfast with him next morning.

In spite of George Whitfield's devotion, however, he was not yet at rest, for he had not learned a full salvation, in God's simple, perfect way, but was really labouring to reach it. He made known his state of unrest to his respected friend, Charles Wesley, for, finding out the evil of his own heart to be incurable, according to the scriptures, he longed for deliverance from its power. Had he turned direct to God, he would have been encouraged, but by reading the books they lent to him, he only got further astray, and grew disheartened in his search for light. Endeavouring to follow the rules given in these, the poor seeking soul only got deeper and deeper into the mud of human imagination, of which man is so foolishly vain.

Another of these false religious rules was, to remain in the seclusion of his room, till he could come up to a certain standard which was set before his mind. Rigidly following out every regulation laid down in his books, the poor misguided soul was only plunged deeper into darkness and distress, by the deceitfulness of his natural heart. Many painful efforts were made, such as fasting, praying out in the cold at night, preserving an unusual silence, and similar religious follies, but all was in vain. His beloved friends, Charles and John Wesley, sought to dissuade him from such foolish doings, but he heeded them not, and thought it right to give up their hitherto valued company.