Wesley Corpus

He cannot ‘speak idle words; no corrupt conversation” ever ‘comes out of his mouth;’ as is all that is not “good to the use of edifying, not fit to ‘minister grace to the hearers. But ‘whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are’ justly ‘of good report, he thinks, speaks, and acts, ‘adorning the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things.’” These are the very words wherein I largely declared, for the first time, my sentiments of Christian perfection. And is it not easy to see, (1.) That this is the very point at which I aimed all along from the year 1725; and more deter minately from the year 1730, when I began to be homo unius libri, “a man of one book,” regarding none, comparatively, but the Bible? Is it not easy to see, (2.) That this is the very same doctrine which I believe and teach at this day; not adding one point, either to that inward or outward holiness which I maintained eight-and-thirty years ago? And it is the same which, by the grace of God, I have continued to teach from that time till now; as will appear to every impartial person from the extracts subjoined below. 11. I do not know that any writer has made any objection against that tract to this day; and for some time, I did not find much opposition upon the head, at least, not from serious persons. But after a time, a cry arose, and, what a little surprised me, among religious men, who affirmed, not that I stated perfection wrong, but that “there is no perfection on earth;” may, and fell vehemently on my brother and me for affirming the contrary. We scarce expected so rough an attack from these ; especially as we were clear on justifica tion by faith, and careful to ascribe the whole of salvation to the mere grace of God. But what most surprised us, was, that we were said to “dishonour Christ,” by asserting that he “saveth to the uttermost; ” by maintaining he will reign in our hearts alone, and subdue all things to himself. 12. I think it was in the latter end of the year 1740, that I had a conversation with Dr. Gibson, then Bishop of London, at Whitehall. He asked me what I meant by perfection.