At Dublin, the society had been jangling for years, and, as a consequence, had suffered loss. Though not expressly stated, it is clear that the cause of their quarreling was a dispute respecting the authority of the preachers and of the leaders respectively. Wesley, as the fountain of Methodistic law, now laid it down that classleaders had no authority to restrain the assistant, if they thought he acted improperly; but might mildly speak to him, and then refer the matter to Wesley to be decided. They had no “authority to hinder a person from preaching, or to displace a particular leader, or to expel a particular member, or to regulate the temporal and spiritual affairs of the society, or to make any public collection, or to receive the yearly subscription.” All this was the work of the assistant, with one exception, namely, that the temporal affairs of the society were regulated by the society steward. The power of a classleader simply consisted in authority to meet his class, to receive their contributions, and to visit his sick members; and the power of all classleaders united was “authority to show their classpapers to the assistant, and to deliver the money they had received to the stewards, and to bring in the names of the sick.” Rightly or wrongly, such was Methodist discipline in 1771. “In the Methodist discipline,” writes Wesley, “the wheels regularly stand thus: the assistant, the preachers, the stewards, the leaders, the people. But here the leaders, who are the lowest wheel but one, were quite got out of their place. They were got at the top of all, above the stewards, the preachers, yea, and above the assistant himself. To this chiefly, I impute the gradual decay of the work of God in Dublin.” “Nothing,” says he, at Londonderry, where two years before he had organised a band of singers, which through the preacher’s neglect was now dispersed, “Nothing will stand in the Methodist plan unless the preacher has his heart and his hand in it. Every preacher, therefore, should consider it is not his business to mind this or that thing only, but everything.” More than three months of Wesley’s time were spent, not in Dublin, but in itinerating the Irish provinces. In many instances, he was gladdened with the prosperity of the work of God; in others, as Dublin, Athlone, Tullamore, Waterford, Cork, and Augher, the aspect of things was far from promising. While on this lengthened journey, Wesley made the following entry in his journal: “1771. June 28--This day I entered the sixty-ninth year of my age. I am still a wonder to myself. My voice and strength are the same as at nine-and-twenty. This also hath God wrought.”