In 1753, when John Wesley was dangerously ill, Charles
Wesley distinctly told the societies that he neither
could nor would stand in his brother’s place,
if it pleased God to take him, for he had neither
a body, nor a mind, nor talents, nor grace for it.
In 1779, he wrote to his brother in terms as peremptory
as John himself was wont to use, and such as few others
would have dared to employ in addressing the founder
of Methodism. ’The preachers,’ he
writes,[754] ’do not love the Church of England.
When we are gone, a separation is inevitable.
Do you not wish to keep as many good people in the
Church as you can? Something might be done now
to save the remainder, if only you had resolution,
and would stand by me as firmly as I will stand by
you. Consider what you are bound to do as a clergyman,
and what you do, do quickly.’ It has been
already stated that Charles was, if possible, even
more attached to the Church than John. John,
on his part, fully felt the need of his brother’s
help. In 1768, he wrote to him, ‘I am at
my wits’ end with regard to two things:
the Church and Christian perfection. Unless both
you and I stand in the gap in good earnest, the Methodists
will drop them both. Talking will not avail,
we must
do, or be borne away. “Age,
vir esto! nervos intende tuos."’ On another
occasion, John rescued his brother from a dangerous
tendency which he showed towards the stillness of the
Moravians. He wrote to him, ’The poison
is in you, fair words have stolen away your heart;’
and made this characteristic entry in his journal:—’The
Philistines are upon thee, Samson; but the Lord is
not departed from thee; He shall strengthen thee yet
again, and thou shalt be avenged for the loss of thine
eyes.’
There is an interesting letter from Whitefield to
Charles Wesley, dated December 22, 1752, from which
it appears that there was a threatened rupture between
the two brothers, the cause of which we do not know.[755]
’I have read and pondered your kind letter with
a degree of solemnity of spirit. What shall I
say? Really I can scarce tell. The connection
between you and your brother hath been so close and
continued, and your attachment so necessary to him
to keep up his interest, that I could not willingly
for the world do or say anything that may separate
such friends. I cannot help thinking that he is
still jealous of me and my proceedings; but I thank
God I am quite easy about it.’[756] The last
sentence is characteristically injudicious, if Whitefield
desired, as undoubtedly he did, to heal the breach;
but the letter is valuable as showing that, in the
opinion of Whitefield, who must have known as much
about the matter as anyone, the co-operation of the
two brothers was essential to their joint work.