That it does so I had observed over and over, as well as Mr. J. had. But how can we account for it? Has the truth (so Mr. J. termed what many love to term the doctrine of free-grace) a natural tendency to spoil the temper ? To inspire pride, haughtiness, superciliousness? To make a man ' wiser in his own eyes than seven men that can render a reason?' Does it naturally turn a man into a cynic, a bear, a Toplady? Does it at once set him free from all the restraints of goodnature, decency, and good manners? Cannot a man hold distinguishing grace, as it is called, but he must distinguish himself for passion, sourness, bitterness? Must a man, as soon as he looks upon himself to be an absolute favourite of heaven, look upon all that oppose him as Diabolonians, as predestinated dogs of hell? Truly, the melancholy instance now before us would almost induce us to think so. For who was of a more amiable temper than Mr. Hill, a few years ago ? When I first conversed with him in London, I thought I had seldom seen a man of fortune who appeared to be of a more humble, modest, gentle, friendly disposition. And yet this same Mr. H., when he has once been grounded in the knowledge of THE TRUTH, is of a temper as totally different from this, as light is from darkness ! He is now haughty, supercilious, disdaining his opponents, as unworthy to be set with the dogs of his flock! He is violent, impetuous, bitter of spirit! in a word, the author of the Review!

"O Sir, what a commendation is this of your doctrine? Look at Mr. Hill the Arminian! The loving, amiable, generous, friendly man. Look at Mr. Hill the Calvinist ! Is it the same person? this spiteful, morose, touchy man? Alas, what has the knowledge of THE TRUTH done? What a deplorable change has it made? Sir, I love you still; though I cannot esteem you, as I did once. Let me entreat you, if not for the honour of God, yet for the

honour of your cause, avoid, for the time to come, all anger, all spite, all sourness and bitterness, all contemptuous usage of your opponents, not inferior to you, unless in fortune. O put on again bowels of mercies, kindness, gentleness, long-suffering; endeavouring to hold, even with them that differ from you in opinion, the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace!"

This controversy, painful as it was in many respects, and the cause of much unhallowed joy to the profane wits of the day, who were not a little gratified at this exhibition of what they termed " spiritual gladiatorship," has been productive of important consequences in this country. It showed to the pious and moderate Calvinists how well the richest views of evangelical truth could be united with Arminianism; and it effected, by its bold and fearless exhibition of the logical consequences of the doctrines of the Decrees, much greater moderation in those who still admitted them, and gave birth to some softened modifications of Calvinism in the age that followed;—an effect which has remained to this day. The disputes on these subjects have, since that time, been less frequent, and more temperate; nor have good men so much laboured to depart to the greatest distance from each other, as to find a ground on which they could make the nearest approaches. This has been especially the case between the Methodists and the evangelical Dissenters. Of late a Calvinism of a higher and sterner form has sprung up among a certain sect of the Clergy of the Church of England; though some of them, whatever their private theory may be, feel that these points are not fit subjects for the edification of their congregations in public discourses. Of Calvinism since the period of this controversy the Methodist Preachers and Societies have been in no danger; so powerful and complete was its effect upon them. At no Conference, since that of 1770, has it been necessary again to ask, "Wherein have we leaned too much to Calvin

ism?" There has been indeed, not in the body, but in some of its Ministers occasionally, a leaning to what is worse than Calvinism,-to a sapless, legal, and philosophizing theology. The influence of the opinions of the majority of the Preachers has always, however, counteracted this; and the true balance between the extremes of each system, as set up in the doctrinal writings of Mr. Wesley, has been of late years better preserved than formerly. Those writings are, indeed, more read and better appreciated in the Connexion, than at some former periods; and perhaps at the present time they exert a more powerful influence than they ever did over the theological views of both Preachers and people. To this the admirably complete, correct, and elegant edition of Mr. Wesley's Works, lately put forth by the labour and judgment of the Rev. Thomas Jackson, will still further contribute. Numerous valuable pieces on different subjects, which had been quite lost to the public, have been recovered; and others, but very partially known, have been collected.

In the midst of all these controversies and cares, the societies continued to spread and flourish under the influence of the zeal and piety of the Preachers, animated by the ceaseless activity and regular visits of Mr. Wesley, who, though now upwards of seventy years of age, seemed to possess his natural strength unabated. * His thoughts

* In his seventy-second year he thus speaks of himself, “This being my birth-day, the first day of my seventy-second year, I was considering, How is this that I find just the same strength as I did thirty years ago? that my sight is considerably better now, and my nerves firmer, than they were then? that I have none of the infirmities of old age, and have lost several I had in my youth ? The grand cause is the good pleasure of God, who doeth whatsoever pleaseth him. The chief means are, 1. My constantly rising at four for about fifty years: 2. My generally preaching at five in the morning, one of the most healthy exercises in the world: 3. My never travelling less, by sea or land, than four thousand five hundred miles in a year."

were, however, frequently turning with anxiety to some arrangement for the government of the Connexion after his death; and not being satisfied that the plan he had sketched out a few years before would provide for a case of so much consequence, he directed his attention to Mr. Fletcher, and warmly invited him to come forth into the work, and to allow himself to be introduced by him to the societies and Preachers as their future head. Earnestly as this was pressed, Mr. Fletcher could not be induced to undertake a task to which, in his humility, he thought himself inadequate. This seems to have been his only objection; but had he accepted the offer, the plan would have failed, as Mr. Fletcher was a few years afterwards called into another world. From Mr. Charles Wesley, who had become a family man, and had nearly given up travelling, he had no hope as a successor; and even then a further settlement would have been necessary, because he could not be expected long to survive his brother. Still therefore this important matter remained undetermined. At the time the overture was made to Mr. Fletcher, the Preachers who were fully engaged in the work amounted to one hundred and fifty; and the societies, in Great Britain and Ireland, to upwards of thirty-five thousand, exclusive of the regular hearers. This rapid and constant enlargement of the Connexion heightened the urgency of the question of its future settlement; and it is pleasing to remark, that Mr. Charles Wesley at length entered into this feeling, and offered his suggestions. In spite of the little misunderstandings which had arisen, he maintained a strong interest in a work, of which he had been so eminent an instrument; and this grew upon him in his latter years. Thus we have seen him springing into activity upon the sickness of his brother, before mentioned, and performing for him the full "work of an evangelist," by travelling in his place; and, upon Mr. Wesley's recovery, his labours

were afforded locally to the chapels in London and Bristol, to the great edification of the congregations. In one of his latest letters to his brother, entering into the question of a provision for the settlement of the future government of the Connexion, he says, "I served WestStreet chapel on Friday and Sunday. Stand to your own proposal: Let us agree to differ.' I leave America and Scotland to your latest thoughts and recognitions; only observing now, that you are exactly right,-Keep your authority while you live; and, after your death, detur digniori, or rather, dignioribus. You cannot settle the succession. You cannot divine how God will settle it."

Thus Charles gave up as hopeless the return to the Church, and suggested the plan which his brother adopted, to devolve the government, not indeed upon one, but upon many whom he esteemed "the worthiest," for age, experience, talent, and moderation.

CHAPTER XII.

IN 1775 Mr. Wesley, during a tour in the north of Ireland, had a dangerous sickness occasioned by sleeping on the ground, in an orchard, in the hot weather, which he says he had been "accustomed to do for forty years without ever being injured by it." He was slow to admit that old age had arrived, or he trusted to triumph long over its infirmities. The consequence in this case, however, was that, after manfully struggling with the incipient symptoms of the complaint, and attempting to throw them off by reading, journeying, and preaching, he sunk into a severe fever, from which, after lying insensible for some days, he recovered with extraordinary rapidity; and resumed a service which, extended as it had been through so many years, was not yet to be terminated. Whilst in London the next year, the following incident occurred :