must ensue to the connection if it did not speedily settle its disputes.

Meanwhile Alexander Kilham, a man of invincible energy, was issuing pamphlet after pamphlet in favor not only of the claims of the people to the sacraments, but of other and radical changes of the Methodist polity. He had been a traveling companion to the sainted Robert Carr Brackenbury, a gentleman of property and high social rank, whose sumptuous Raithby Hall had often been Wesley's home, and whose wealth had been liberally used for the spread of Methodism. He became a useful preacher and, with Kilham, founded Methodism amid fierce persecution in the Channel Isles, whence it entered France. Kilham endured the trials of mobs for the cause, and showed himself a brave man and a successful preacher. He was now on circuits in England and Scotland, and having caught the contagion of the ultra-democratic ideas of the day, was determined to reform Methodism. His pamphlets are admitted by his biographer to have been unpardonably severe. He accused the ministry of disregard for the rights of the people, and charged them with abject submission to the national Church; they had "bowed in the house of Rimmon," and God was visiting the connection with retributive afflictions for this sin. He impeached the conference as perverse, if not corrupt, in several matters of administration. Most of the titles of his numerous pamphlets were of a sarcastic if not vulgar style, and his language generally was offensive and often obstreperous. Coke, Clarke, and others, of London, demanded that the chairman of his district in the north should summon him to trial, but it was at last deemed best to defer proceedings against him till the annual conference. The condition of either the connection or the country would not admit of an immediate trial without dangerous liabilities.

Meanwhile meetings and conventions were frequent among the laymen. The trustees held a delegated assembly at the session of the conference, and demanded concessions; they were treated with much respect by the preachers, and their wishes were accorded as far as was possible. Benson, lamenting the unfortunate example of Bristol, prepared the celebrated "Plan of Pacification," and it was adopted at the conference of 1795. It gave some relief, but could not appease the public

clamor. Coke, Clarke, Mather, Taylor, Moore, and others, met for counsel at Litchfield, where the American system of episcopal government was urged by Coke. He proposed to ordain the preachers present, and initiate it at once as the only salvation of the connection; but Mather and Moore demanded that it should be first submitted to the Conference. All of them, however, signed their names to a paper detailing the plan, and pledging them to advocate it at the next session. That body rejected it. Adam Clarke was favorable to the claim of the societies for the sacraments; he declared he would have relig ious liberty "if he had to go to the ends of the world for it;" but he was as prudent as he was zealous, and bravely opposed all undue haste. Even the good Bramwell sympathized strongly with the proposed reform; he at last became so tired of the protracted conflict that he actually withdrew from the connection, resolved to pursue his powerful ministrations alone; but his good sense returned and quickly led him back. Kilham was finally called to an account before the conference; he was tried, required to acknowledge his errors, and, refusing to do so, was expelled. Two preachers seceded and joined him; they organized the New Methodist Connection, and bore away at once five thousand members of societies. Distraction now spread apace. Kilham traversed the country, and was admitted into many Methodist chapels, dividing their societies, setting people against trustees, and both against preachers.

In these perilous circumstances, so long continued, the preachers maintained their forbearance with each other's difference of opinion, and with the excited societies. With the exception of the three who formed the Kilham schism, and the transient separation of Bramwell, all were steadfast to the common cause; with the exception of the deplorable altercation at Bristol, they presented no bad example to the people. They differed among themselves in theory, but knew that premature measures on one side or the other would, in the immature state of the popular parties, be disastrous. The casual allusions, in cotemporary biographies, to some of their conference sessions, are deeply affecting; they consulted, conceded, wept together; they spent days of their sessions on their knees in fasting and prayer. Benson, Bradburn, Clarke, and similar leaders, preached with power before them in behalf

of their old unity. The formidable difficulty was, that if they conceded to the claims of the mass of the people, they must alienate the trustees and the highest class of the laity, who were generally attached to the Church as Wesley had taught them to be; if they conceded to the latter, they would precipitate the people into schism. Under these circumstances what could they do? three things, as wise and godly men; and they did them nobly. First, stand in unbroken unity themselves, whatever might be their personal differences; secondly, make concessions as fast as the relative state of parties would admit, without insupportable offense to either; third, push forward their pastoral work, preaching, visiting the people, promoting revivals, and waiting for God to send them deliv

erence.

Their steadfastness and moderation at last brought them that deliverance, and they marched at the head of their hosts, out of the wilderness into the promised land with a triumph which deserves perpetual commemoration, as an example for all their successors. At the Conference of 1797, an imposing delegated convention of laymen was held. It was presided over by Thomas Thompson, of Hull, a man of great influence in the community of that city, and in the Wesleyan Connection generally. Its demands were treated by the Conference with the greatest deference; both bodies exchanged communications, and negotiated by joint committees, through nine or ten days. Both adjourned at last cordially satisfied, passing resolutions of mutual congratulation, and pledging themselves to each other to pray and labor for the peace and perpetual success of their common cause. We have not here time to detail the concessions made by the preachers; suffice it now to say that nothing which was asked was withheld by these devoted and self-sacrificing men, if it could be conceded without an abandonment of the fundamental system left them by Wesley. They sent forth an address to the people, in which they said: "Thus, brethren, we have given up the greatest part of our executive government into your hands, as represented in your different public meetings." (Minutes, 1797.)

The time had arrived for these generous concessions; parties had been modified, especially by the growing majority in favor of the claims of the people; the faithfulness of the ministry, in

its great embarrassments, its maintenance of its spiritual work, its moderation and mutual forbearance, notwithstanding its own diversities of opinion, its firmness in executing discipline, as in the case of Kilham, all tended to secure it public respect and confidence. Its moral power advanced with every concession of its ecclesiastical power; it was beloved and revered by its people; and preachers and people, grasping hands, were substantially united forever.

Thus did the tossed and driven bark come forth from the prolonged storm, with its sails fully set, and its colors displayed, to pursue its destined course, confounding the predictions of its enemies and disappointing gratefully even its most sanguine friends. The result of the struggle was not only beneficial in the restoration of harmony, but, if possible, more so, as giving a consolidated government to Methodism, by which it has not only survived later strifes, but has extended its sway, with increasing energy, more or less around the world; a government which in our day, after more than half a century of labors and struggles, remains as effective a system of Church polity as Protestant Christendom affords.

We have passed rapidly over these eventful struggles. More agreeable scenes now ensued, and through the first five years of the new century the energies of the connection were increasing and consolidating in a remarkable manner, preparatory for the new missionary development to which the denomination was about to be providentially summoned as its next and grandest historical phase. It had been well tried, and being found worthy, it was now to be led forth conquering and to conquer. We cannot detail the successive stages of this new progress; we need not, for it is read of nearly all men and in nearly all parts of the world to-day. But its first indication, next to the spiritual revivals which prevailed at the beginning of the century, was the great representative men who entered the field about this period, and who for many years conducted the new development. As these important men continued almost down to our day, and their personal history thus became a history of the connection from this new epoch, we cannot perhaps better conclude our paper than by "sketching" some of them as exponents of the subsequent course of Wesleyan Methodism. Six of them may be said to be specially

entitled to this distinction, three of the higher order of mind, and three of lowlier but of hardly less effective position; for Methodism was still to be, and may it ever be, a field for the humblest and for the highest intellects.

RICHARD WATSON, a young man who was to be pre-eminent above all the lay preachers hitherto received by the conference, was first recorded on its roll in 1796, the time of the climax of its agitations. Morally great, brilliant and profound in intellect, successful in the most important labors of the Church through a ministerial life of thirty-seven years, his brethren were to deplore his death, at last, as "one of the most mournful bereavements which any Christian Church ever suffered," and to bear testimony that "to his understanding belonged a capacity which the greatness of a subject could not exceed; a strength and clearness which the number and complexity of its parts could not confuse; and a vigor which the difficulty and length of an inquiry could not weary." (Minutes, 1833.) He was to become one of the greatest preachers of his age, combining the imagination of the poet with the understanding of the philosopher; one of the most commanding legislators of his Church, whose judgment was to be recognized as little short of infallible; its greatest theological writer, whose works were to be its text-books wherever it extended; and the eloquent advocate and manager of its missions, directing their foreign operations, defending them by his pen, representing them before the authorities of his country, and commanding for them the respect and patronage of the British people. He was born at Barton-upon-Humber, Lincolnshire, in 1781, and was, therefore, but about sixteen years old when he entered the Conference, the youngest candidate which it has ever received. He was remarkable from his childhood for the precosity of his faculties, and suffered the usual penalty of such superiority, life-long feebleness of constitution. He was seldom exempt from pain, and his wasted appearance in the pulpit appealed to the sympathies of the admiring audiences, which were struck with wonder at the contrasted and majestic strength of his intellect. His education included the elements of the classic languages; but he afterward mastered them, as also the Hebrew tongue, and acquired a comprehensive knowledge of literature and the sciences.