We would not, on the other hand, be unjust. We may well believe that there were hamlets and villages where country clergymen realised their duties and fulfilled them, and not only deserved all the merit of Goldsmith’s charming picture,[2] but were faithful ministers of the New Testament too. But our words and illustrations refer to the average character presented to us by the Church; and this, again, is illustrated by the vehement hostility presented on all hands to the first indications of the Great Revival. For instance, the Rev. Dr. Thomas Church, Vicar of Battersea, in a well-known sermon on charity schools, deplored and denounced the enormous wickedness of the times; after saying, “Our streets are grievously infested; every day we see the most dreadful confusions, daring villanies, dangers, and mischiefs, arising from the want of sentiments of piety,” he continues: “For our own sakes and our posterity’s everything should be encouraged which will contribute to suppressing these evils, and keep the poor from stealing, lying, drunkenness, cruelty, or taking God’s name in vain. While we feel our disease, ’tis madness to set aside any remedy which has power to check its fury.” Having said this, with a perfectly startling inconsistency he turns round, and addressing himself to Wesley and the Methodists, he says, “We cannot but regard you as our most dangerous enemies.” Footnote 2: Appendix B. When the Great Revival arose, the Church of England set herself, everywhere, in full array against it; she possessed but few great minds. The massive intellects of Butler and Berkeley belonged to the immediately preceding age. The most active intellect on the bench of bishops was, no doubt, that of Warburton; and it is sad to think that he descended to a tone of scurrility and injustice in his attack on Wesley, which, if worthy of his really quarrelsome temper, was altogether unworthy of his position and his powers.