History of the M.E. Church, Vol. IV - Media Sabda Org

That very significant and convenient word, tact, expresses a quality which Wilbur Fisk possessed
in a rare degree. He was uncommonly sagacious in perceiving, and prompt in seizing the practical
advantages of his position, whatever it might be; hence his adroitness in controversy, the success of
his platform addresses, his almost certain triumph in Conference debates, and the skill of his public
practical schemes. His moral character was as perfect as that of any man whom it has been the
writer's happiness to know. His intimate friends will admit that there is hardly a possibility of
speaking too favorably of him in this respect. It has often been remarked by those who had years of
personal relations with him, that they were literally at a loss to mention one moral defect that marred
the perfect beauty of his nature. This is saying very much; it is saying what cannot be said of one
man perhaps in a million, but it can be deliberately said of this saintly man. Serene, cheerful; exempt
from selfishness, pride, and vanity; tender, yet manly in his sensibilities; confiding in his friendships;
entertaining hopeful views of Divine Providence and the destiny of man; maintaining the purest and
yet the most inelaborate piety, a piety that appeared to believe and enjoy and do all things good, and
yet to "be careful for nothing;" he seemed to combine the distinctive charms that endear to us the
beautiful characters of Fenelon and Channing, Edwards and Fletcher of Madeley. His humility was
profound, and surrounded him with a halo of moral loveliness. It was not a burden of penance under
which the soul bowed with self-cherished agony, still less was it a ''voluntary humility," an assumed
self-abasement; but it seemed the spontaneous and tender demeanor of his spirit; it mingled with the
cheerful play of his features, and gave a hallowed suavity to his very tones. It was his rare moral
character, more even than his intellectual eminence, that gave him such magical influence over other
minds, and rendered him so successful in the government of literary institutions. All about him felt
self-respect in respecting him. To offend him was a self-infliction which even the audacity of
reckless youth could not brook.
He lived for many years in the faith and exemplification of St. Paul's sublime doctrine of Christian
perfection. He prized that great tenet as one of the most important distinctions of Christianity. His
own experience respecting it was marked by signal circumstances, and from the day that he
practically adopted it till he triumphed over death, its impress was radiant on his daily life. With John
Wesley he deemed this important truth -- promulgated, in any very express form, almost solely by
Methodism in these days -- to be one of the most solemn responsibilities of his Church, the most
potent element in the experimental divinity of the Scriptures. In his earlier religious history he had
felt the influence of those temptations which have betrayed so many young men from the Methodist
ministry into other communions, where better worldly auspices, rather than better means of
self-development or usefulness, were to be found; but when he received the baptism of this great
grace, his purified heart could not sufficiently utter its thankfulness that he had been providentially
kept within the pale of a Church which clearly taught it. This alone was a denominational distinction
sufficiently important to be set off against any drawback that Methodism might present. In a letter
to a brother clergyman he expressed, with overflowing feelings, his renewed love of the Church. "I
thank God," he said, "that I ever saw this day. I love our Church better than ever. How glad am I that
I never left it." There are two periods at which a Methodist assuredly feels no regret for his
connection with the denomination: when he learns by experience what is the meaning of its
instructions respecting the highest Christian life, [Perfect Love -- DVM] and when death dismisses
him from its communion to the Church triumphant.