ess energy, their fervent piety--in a word, their
love of God and their love of their neighbour for God's sake--these are
the points on which one loves to dwell; these are traits in their
characters which posterity has gratefully recognised, though scant
justice was done them by the men of their own generation. In their
quarrel with sin and Satan all good men will sympathise with them. It is
painful to turn from this to their quarrels among themselves; but these
latter occupy too large a space in their history to be lightly passed
over.
It has frequently been remarked in these pages that the eighteenth
century, or at least the first half of it, was essentially an age of
controversy; but of all the controversies which distracted the Church
and nation that one which now comes under our consideration was the most
unprofitable and unsatisfactory in every way. The subject of it was that
old, old difficulty which has agitated men's minds from the beginning,
and will probably remain unsettled until the end of time--a difficulty
which is not confined to Christianity, nor even to Deism, but which
meets us quite apart from theology altogether. It is that which, in
theological language, is involved in the contest between Calvinism and
Arminianism; in philosophical, between free-will and necessity. 'The
reconciling,' wrote Lord Lyttelton, 'the prescience of God with the
free-will of man, Mr. Locke, after much thought on the subject, freely
confessed that he could not do, though he acknowledged both. And what
Mr. Locke could not do, in reasoning upon subjects of a metaphysical
nature, I am apt to think few men, if any, can hope to perform.'[778] It
would have been well if the Methodists had acted according to the spirit
of these wise words; but, unfortunately, they considered it necessary
not only to discuss the question, but to insist upon their own solution
of it in the most positive and dogmatic terms.
One would have thought that John Wesley, at any rate, considering his
expertness in logic, would have been aware of the utter hopelessness of
disputing upon such a point; but the key to that great man's conduct in
this, as in other matters, is to be found in the intensely practical
character of his mind, especially in matters of religion. He felt the
practical danger of Antinomianism, and, feeling this, he did not,
perhaps, quite do justice to all that might be said on the other side.
In point of fact, however, he shrank, especi
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