Besides all this public annoyance, Wesley and Fletcher had sent to them anonymous letters of the vilest description. Two may suffice as specimens. Both have Birmingham post mark, and both were addressed to Fletcher. Both are in the same handwriting; the orthography of one is correct, but of the other _purposely_ otherwise. In the first are ink sketches of Wesley and Fletcher in two pulpits, and pelting each other with Bibles. In the other, Wesley is represented as being hanged, and Fletcher is shooting him after he is dead. Take an extract from the first, which, though bad enough, is not the worst that it contains. “I HAVE sent you a short poem upon parson Wesley. ‘There wos a man, Hold Wesley by name, I rother think yo’ll bee thee same, From every porsun he gets tuppence a week-- I wish hee was hear, and I’d give him a kick. He open’d a meeting Inn this town, And all the benchees dyd fall doun, I was in the meeting at the same tyme, But O I cannot find a rheime. You preach’d a Charrity sermun wonce, And sat in the pulpit like old Punch.’” What had Wesley done to deserve all this? Literally nothing, except publishing the brief and imperfect minutes of a conversation he had with his itinerant preachers in 1770, on the subject of Calvinism; and, further, three small tracts, one an abridgment of Toplady’s Zanchius; another an answer to the question, “What is an Arminian?” and the third, “The Consequence Proved.” This was absolutely the sum total of his offence so far as the public was concerned. The minutes fill little more than an octavo page, and contain not the slightest reflection upon any one under heaven. The description of an Arminian occupies only eight pages 12mo, and merely states, in the most temperate terms, the difference between the Arminian and Calvinistic creeds. From first to last, the name of no living man is mentioned, except the name of Wesley himself. The abridgment of Toplady’s Zanchius fills only twelve pages 12mo, and is honestly and fairly made. The only thing in it, that can, with any degree of fairness, be considered personal, is the summing up of the principles of Zanchius, which occupy half-a-dozen lines, and to which Wesley appended the words, characteristic enough of the young predestinarian whose translation he was abridging, “Reader, believe this, or be damned. Witness my hand, A---- T----.” Then, in reference to the third tract, “The Consequence Proved,” the printed matter fills just eight pages 12mo, and there is absolutely nothing in it but what is fair argument, except that Wesley calls Toplady “a young, bold man,” and says he will leave him “to be farther corrected by one that is full his match, Mr. Thomas Olivers.” This is all, literally all; the first and last; the substance and the details of Wesley’s offending. The two Hills, one of them not yet forty, and the other not yet thirty