Within five weeks after Wesley had returned from Germany, he and his brother Charles waited upon Dr. Edmund Gibson, Bishop of London, to answer the complaints he had heard against them, to the effect that they preached an absolute assurance of salvation. Gibson was a man of great natural abilities, a laborious student, and also pious; but he was occasionally betrayed into intolerance, and sometimes evinced more zeal for the rights of the Church than discretion. So great was his ecclesiastical power, that Sir Robert Walpole was accustomed to be reproached with allowing him the authority of a pope: “And a very good pope he is,” replied the premier. The two Wesleys being introduced to him, he said, “If by assurance you mean an inward persuasion, whereby a man is conscious in himself, after examining his life by the law of God, and weighing his own sincerity, that he is in a state of salvation, and acceptable to God, I don’t see how any good Christian can be without such assurance.” The Wesleys meant more by “assurance” than this; but the doctrine, so far as it went, was one which they themselves preached. The next point discussed was the charge that they were Antinomians, because they preached justification by faith only. To this they replied, “Can any one preach otherwise, who agrees to our church and the Scriptures?” A third charge was that they had administered baptism to persons dissatisfied with the lay baptism which they had already received. Wesley answered, with more high church bigotry than scriptural enlightenment, that “if a person dissatisfied with lay baptism,” or, in other words, Dissenters’ baptism, “should desire episcopal, he should think it his duty to administer it.” Wesley next inquired of his lordship if “his reading in a religious society made it a conventicle;” and whether “religious societies are conventicles.” To the latter question the bishop answered, “I think not; but I determine nothing;” and he recommended them to read the acts and laws on the subject for themselves. They then requested that he would not, in future, receive an accusation against them, but at the mouth of two or three witnesses. He said, “No, by no means; and you may have free access to me at all times.” They thanked his lordship, and departed.[266] This was the first muttering of the storm soon to burst upon them. William Warburton was not yet a bishop, but he was already a vigorous and well known writer, and rector of Brand Broughton, in Lincolnshire. This hot-headed parson was one of the first to fall foul upon the poor Methodists. Writing to Des Maizeaux, in 1738, he says:—