out the bone of contention? Why did you print that sermon against predestination? Why did you in particular, my dear brother Charles, affix your hymn, and join in putting out your late hymnbook? How can you say you will not dispute with me about election, and yet print such hymns, and your brother send his sermon against election over to America? Do not you think, my dear brethren, I must be as much concerned for truth, or what I think truth, as you? God is my judge, I always was, and hope I always shall be, desirous that you may be preferred before me. But I must preach the gospel of Christ, and that I cannot now do without speaking of election." He then informed Charles, that one copy of his answer to the sermon was printing at Charlestown; that another had been sent to Boston for the same purpose; and that he was bringing a copy to be printed in London. 66 If," said he," it occasion a strangeness between us, it shall not be my fault. There is nothing in my answer exciting to it that I know of. O my dear brethren, my heart almost bleeds within me! Methinks I could be willing to tarry here on the waters for ever, rather than come to England to oppose you." But although, when he was thus addressing the Wesleys, the feelings of old friendship returned upon him, his other letters, written during the voyage, evince that he looked on to a separation as the certain consequence of this difference in opinion. "Great perils," he says, "await me; but Jesus Christ will send his angel, and roll away every stone of difficulty."

My

Lord's command now, I believe, is, Take the

foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines, for our vines have tender grapes.' Help me by your prayers; it is an ease thus to unbosom myself to a friend. I have sought the Lord by prayer and fasting, and he assures me that he will be with me; whom then should I fear ?"-"The Lord is girding me for the battle, and strengthening me mightily in the inner man."

In this state of mind he reached London. Charles Wesley was there, and their meeting was affectionate. "It would have melted any heart," says Whitefield, "to have heard us weeping after prayer, that, if possible, the breach might be prevented." Old feelings of respect and love revived with such strength in his heart, that he promised never to preach against the Wesleys, whatever his private opinion might be. But many things combined to sour him at this time. He had written against Archbishop Tillotson's works, and the Whole Duty of Man, a book in those days of unrivalled popularity, in a manner which he himself then acknowledged to be intemperate and injudicious; and this had offended persons, who were otherwise favourably disposed towards him. His celebrity also seemed to have passed away; the twenty thousands who used to assemble at his preaching had dwindled down to two or three hundred; and in one exhibition at Kennington Common, the former scene of his triumphs, scarcely a hundred were gathered together to hear him.. Worldly anxieties, too, were fretting him,

and those of a kind which made the loss of his ce

lebrity a serious evil. The Orphan House in Georgia was to be maintained: he had now nearly a hundred persons in that establishment, who were to be supported by his exertions: there were not the slightest funds provided, and Georgia was the dearest part of the British dominions. above a thousand pounds in debt upon that score, and he himself not worth twenty. Seward, the wealthiest and most attached of his disciples, was dead, and had made no provision for him, nor for the payment of a bill for 3501. on the Orphan House account, which he had drawn, and for which Whitefield was now responsible, and threatened with an arrest. If his celebrity were gone, the Bank of Faith, upon which he had hitherto drawn with such confidence and such success, would be

* A letter from Charles Wesley to Whitefield makes it evident that this zealous man was bestowing his property as well as his time in the service of Methodism. Writing from London in 1739, he says, “ I cannot preach out on the week-days for the expence of coach-hire, nor can I accept of dear Mr. Seward's offer, to which I should be less backward would he follow my advice, but while he is so lavish of his Lord's goods I cannot consent that his ruin should in any degree seem to be under my hands." These goods were his family's also, as well as his Lord's; and therefore it is not surprizing that when Mr. Seward was lying ill of a fever at his house at Bengeworth, and Charles Wesley came there in one of his rounds, the wife, the brother, and the apothecary should have taken especial care to keep all Methodists from him; and when they could not prevail upon Wesley to give up his intention of preaching near the house, which the apothecary declared would throw his patient back, that they should have endeavoured to drive him out of the town by force. Seward's early loss is thus noticed by John Wesley: "Monday, Oct. 27. (1740.) The surprizing news of poor Mr. Seward's death was confirmed. Surely God will maintain his own cause! Righteous art thou O Lord." His journal was published, and is often quoted in Bishop Lavington's curious work.

closed against him. He called it truly a trying time: " Many, very many of my spiritual children," says he, "who, at my last departure from England, would have plucked out their own eyes to have given me, are so prejudiced by the dear Messrs. Wesleys dressing up the doctrine of election in such horrible colours, that they will neither hear, see, nor give me the least assistance; yea, some of them send threatening letters that God will speedily destroy me." This folly on the part of Wesley's hot adherents irritated him, and that irritation was fomented by his own. He began naturally to regard his former friends as heretics and enemies; and when Wesley; who had been summoned by his brother Charles to 'London on this occasion, went to him, to see if the breach might yet be closed, Whitefield honestly told him, that they preached two different gospels, and therefore he not only would not join with him, or give him the right hand of fellowship, but would publicly preach against him wheresoever he preached at all. He was reminded of the promise which he had but a few days before made, that whatever his opinion might be he would not do this: but he replied, that promise was only an effect of human weakness, and he was now of another mind.

This temper disposed him to listen to the representations of paltry minds; and he wrote to Wesley upon the points which he thought had been improperly managed during his absence in America. Wesley replied, Would you have me deal plainly with brother? I believe you would:

VOL. I.

you, my

66

C C

each in the Now, which

nor would I

But lodgings

then by the grace of God I will. Of many things I find you are not rightly informed; of others you speak what you have not well weighed. The Society room at Bristol you say is adorned. How? Why, with a piece of green cloth nailed to the desk; two sconces for eight candles middle; and-nay, I know no more. of these can be spared I know not; desire either more adorning or less. are made for me or my brother. That is, in plain English, there is a little room by the school, where I speak to the persons who come to me; and a garret in which a bed is placed for me. And do you grudge me this? Is this the voice of my brother, my son Whitefield ?” Another and a heavier charge was, that he had perverted Whitefield's design for the poor colliers; and this was answered by a plain statement of the matter, which must have made Whitefield blush for the hasty and ungenerous accusation. "But it is a poor case, said Wesley, "that you and I should be talking thus! Indeed these things ought not to be. It lay in your power to have prevented all, and yet to have borne testimony to what you call the truth. If you had disliked my sermon, you might have printed another on the same text, and have answered my proofs without mentioning my name. This had been fair or friendly. You rank all the maintainers of Universal Redemption with Socinians themselves. Alas! my brother, do you not know even this, that the Socinians allow no redemption at all? that Socinus himself speaks thus, Tota re