I should be sorry indeed if Sammy Tooth were a sufferer: but surely he knows his own business. Many here know and love you well. My love to all.

Adieu!

XCII.-To the Same.

MANCHESTER, April 6, 1786. DEAR BROTHER,-I am glad you are again able to officiate at the chapels. Let us " manage wisely the last stake!" It is enough that John Davis finished his course well; and we are sure Nancy Sharland did so.

Sammy Bradburn thought of going farther with me. But the frost and snow drove him back. I believe, the loss of his wife will be one of the greatest blessings which he has ever met with in his life.

Mrs. Fletcher will not be in haste to remove from Madeley, though her light is there almost hid under a bushel. Mr. Ireland will give me no help with regard to writing Mr. Fletcher's Life," because he intends to publish it himself!" Let him do it, and I will follow him. Where is your Elegy? You may say, as my father in his verses on Mr. Nelson,"Let friendship's sacred name excuse

The last effort of an expiring muse."

Can you or I ever have such another subject? Melville Horne hopes to be ordained on Trinity Sunday.

Indeed I love the Church as sincerely as ever I did; and I tell our societies every where, "The Methodists will not leave the Church, at least while I live." I doubt I shall not half agree with our friends in Scotland: but I shall know more, and you will hear more, when I see them.

While I live, Dr. Coke and I shall go through Ireland by turns. He will have work enough this year with Edward Smyth. I doubt Edward "needs a bridle:" but who can put the bit into his mouth? I am not sorry your concerts have come to an end. Remember your dream concerning Sammy! "The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth!"

Mr. Pennant's I know, and Dr. Johnson's I know; but I know nothing of Mr. Boswell's Tour to the Hebrides. I should imagine it was worth reading. Peace be with all your spirits! Adieu!

XCIII. To the Reverend George Whitefield.

MARCH 20, 1739.

and

MY DEAR BROTHER,-Would you have me speak to you freely? without any softening or reserve at all? I know you would. And may our loving Saviour speak to your heart, so my labour shall not be in vain. I do not commend you with regard to our brothers S C. But let me speak tenderly; for I am but a little child. I know our Lord has brought good out of their going to you: good to you, and good to them: very much good; and may he increase it a thousand fold, how much soever it be! But is every thing good, my brother, out of which he brings good? I think that does not follow. O my brother, is it well for you or me to give the least hint of setting up our will of judgment against that of our whole society? Was it well for you once to mention a desire which they had all solemnly declared they thought

unreasonable? Was not this abundant cause to drop any design which was not manifestly grounded on a clear command of our Lord? Indeed, my brother, in this I commend you not. If our brother R, or P, desired any thing, and our other brethren disapproved of it, I cannot but think he ought immediately to let it drop. How much more ought you or I? They are upon a level with the rest of their brethren. But I trust you and I are not; we are the servants of all. Thus far have I spoken with fear and much trembling, and with many tears. 0 may our Lord speak the rest! For what shall such a one as I say to a beloved servant of my Lord? O pray that I may see myself a worm and no man! I wish to be

Your brother in Jesus Christ.

XCIV. To the Same.

APRIL, 1741.

WOULD you have me deal plainly with you, my brother? I believe you would 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 each in the middle; and-nay, I know no more. Now, which of these can be spared I know not; nor would I desire either more adorning or less.

But "lodgings 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?

You say farther, "that the children at Bristol are clothed as well as taught." I am sorry for it; for the cloth is not paid for yet, and was bought without my consent or knowledge. "But those of Kingswood have been neglected." This is not so, notwithstanding the heavy debt which lay upon it. One master and one mistress have been in the house ever since it was capable of receiving them. A second master has been placed there some months since; and I have long been seeking for two proper mistresses; so that as much has been done, as matters stand, if not more, than I can answer to God or man.

Hitherto, then, there is no ground for the heavy charge of perverting your design for the poor colliers. Two years since, your design was to build them a school, that their children also might be taught to fear the Lord. To this end you collected some money more than once; how much I cannot say, till I have my papers. But this I know, it was not near one half of what has been expended on the work. This design you then recommended to me, and I pursued it with all my might, through such a train of difficulties as, I will be bold to say, you have not yet met with in your life. For many months I collected money wherever I was, and began building, though I had not then a quarter of the money requisite to finish. However, taking all the debt upon myself, the creditors were willing to stay; and then it was that I took possession of it in my own name; that is, when the foundation was laid; and I

immediately made my will, fixing my brother and you to succeed me therein.

But it is a poor case, 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 and 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 redemptio nostra per Christum metaphora? [The whole of our redemption by Christ is a metaphor?] and says expressly, "Christ did not die as a ransom for any, but only as an example for all mankind?" How easy were it for me to hit many other palpable blots in that which you call an answer to my sermon! And how above measure contemptible would you then appear to all impartial men, either of sense or learning! But I spare you; mine hand shall not be upon you. The Lord be judge between me and thee! The general tenor both of my public and private exhortations, when I touch thereon at all, as even my enemies know if they would testify, is, "Soare the voung man, even Absalom, for my sake."

XCV. To the Same.

LEWISHAM, February 21, 1770.

MY DEAR BROTHER,-Mr. Keen informed me some time since of your safe arrival in Carolina; of which indeed I could not doubt for a moment, notwithstanding the idle report of your being cast away, which was so current in London. I trust our Lord has more work for you to do in Europe, as well as in America. And who knows, but before your return to England, I may pay another visit to the new world? I have been strongly solicited by several of our friends in New-York and Philadelphia. They urge many reasons, some of which appear to be of considerable weight; and my age is no objection at all; for I bless God, my health is not barely as good, but abundantly better in several respects, than when I was five-and-twenty but there are so many reasons on the other side, that as yet I can determine nothing: so I must wait for farther light. Here I am: let the Lord do with me as seemeth him good. For the present I must beg of you to supply my lack of service, by encouraging our preachers as you judge best; who are as yet comparatively young and inexperienced; by giving them such advices as you think proper; and above all, by exhorting them, not only to love one another, but, if it be possible, as much as lies in them, to live peaceably with all men.

Some time ago, since you went hence, I heard a circumstance which gave me a good deal of concern; namely, that the college or academy in Georgia had swallowed up the Orphan house. Shall I give my judgment without being asked? Methinks, friendship requires I should. Are there not then two points which come in view? a point of mercy, and a point of justice? With regard to the former, may it not be inquired, Can any thing on earth be a greater charity, than to bring up

orphans? What is a college or an academy compared to this? unless you could have such a college as perhaps is not upon earth. I know the value of learning, and am more in danger of prizing it too much, than too little. But still, I cannot place the giving it to five hundred students, on a level with saving the bodies, if not the souls too, of five hundred orphans. But let us pass on from the point of mercy to that of justice you had land given, and collected money, for an Orphan house; are you at liberty to apply this to any other purpose? at least, while there are any orphans in Georgia left? I just touch upon this, though it is an important point, and leave it to your own consideration, whether part of it, at least, might not properly be applied to carry on the original design? In speaking thus freely, on so tender a subject, I have given you a fresh proof of the sincerity with which I am

Your ever affectionate friend and brother.

XCVI. To the Reverend James Hervey.

LONDON, November 29, 1758.

DEAR SIR,-A week or two ago, in my return from Norwich, I met with Mr. Pierce of Bury, who informed me of a conversation which he had had a few days before. Mr. Cudworth, he said, then told him, that he had prevailed on Mr. Hervey to write against me, who likewise, in what he had written, referred to the book which he (Mr. Cudworth) had lately published.

Every one is welcome to write what he pleases concerning me. But would it not be well for you to remember, that, before I published any thing concerning you, I sent it to you in a private letter; that I waited for an answer for several months, but was not favoured with one line; that when at length I published part of what I had sent you, I did it in the most inoffensive manner possible,-in the latter end of a larger work, purely designed to preserve those in connection with me from being tossed to and fro by various doctrines? What, therefore, I may fairly expect from my friend, is, to mete to me with the same measure: to send to me first, in a private manner, any complaint he has against me; to wait as many months as I did; and, if I give you none or no satisfactory answer, then to lay the matter before the world, if you judge it will be to the glory of God.

But I am

But whatever you do in this respect, one thing I request of you: Give no countenance to that insolent, scurrilous, virulent libel, which bears the name of William Cudworth. Indeed, how you can converse with a man of his spirit, I cannot comprehend. O leave not your old well tried friends! The new is not comparable to them. I speak not this because I am afraid of what any one can say or do to me. really concerned for you; an evil man has gained the ascendant over you, and has persuaded a dying man, who had shunned it all his life, to enter into controversy as he is stepping into eternity! Put off your armour, my brother! You and I have no moments to spare; let us employ them all in promoting peace and good will among men. may the peace of God keep your heart and mind in Christ Jesus! So

prays

And

Your affectionate brother and servant.

XCVII.-To the Reverend John Fletcher.

BIRMINGHAM, March 20, 1768. DEAR SIR,-I was told yesterday, that you are sick of the conversation even of them who profess religion; that you find it quite unprofitable, if not hurtful, to converse with them three or four hours together; and are sometimes almost determined to shut yourself up, as the less evil of the two.

I do not wonder at it at all; especially considering with whom you have chiefly conversed for some time past, namely, the hearers of Mr. and Mr. -The conversing with them I have rarely found to be profitable to my soul. Rather, it has damped my desires, and has cooled my resolutions; and I have commonly left them with a dry, dissipated spirit.

And how can you expect it to be otherwise? For do we not naturally catch their spirit with whom we converse? And what spirit can we expect them to be of, considering the preaching they sit under? Some happy exceptions I allow; but, in general, do men gather grapes of thorns? Do they gather the necessity of inward and outward self devotion, of constant, universal self-denial, or of the patience of hope, or the labour of love, from the doctrine they hear? Do they gather from that amorous way of praying to Christ, or that luscious way of preaching his righteousness, any real holiness? I never found it so. On the contrary, I have found that even the precious doctrine of salvation by faith has need to be guarded with the greatest care, or those who hear it will slight both inward and outward holiness.

I will go a step farther. I seldom find it profitable to converse with any who are not athirst for full salvation; and who are not big with earnest expectation of receiving it every moment. Now, you find none of these among those we are speaking of; but many, on the contrary, who are in various ways, directly or indirectly, opposing this blessed work of God; the work, I mean, which God is carrying on throughout this kingdom, by unlearned and plain men.

You have for some time conversed a good deal with the genteel Methodists. Now, it matters not a straw what doctrine they hear, whether they frequent the Lock, or West-street, if they are as salt which has lost its savour; if they are conformed to the maxims, the spirit, the fashions, and customs of the world. Certainly, then, if you converse much with such persons, you will return less a man than you were before.

But were either the one or the other of ever so excellent a spirit, you conversed with them too long. One had need to be an angel, not a man, to converse three or four hours at once, to any good purpose. In the latter part of such a conversation, we shall be in great danger of losing all the profit we had gained before.

But have you not a remedy for all this in your hands? In order to converse profitably, may you not select a few persons who stand in awe of Him they love; persons who are vigorously working out their salvation; who are athirst for full redemption, and every moment expecting it, if not already enjoying it?

Though it is true, these will generally be poor and mean, seldom possessed of either riches or learning, unless there be now and then