On Easter day, April 3, Wesley writes: “I went on to Macclesfield, and came just in time (so is the scene changed here) to walk to the old church, with the mayor and the two ministers.” Here we pause, to notice a man, who afterwards, not only distinguished himself by his pen and ministerial labours, but became one of Wesley’s sincerest and warmest friends. One of the “two ministers,” referred to in this extract, was David Simpson, now a young man of twenty-eight. Born at Ingleby Arncliffe, in Yorkshire, and educated at Northallerton, and at Scorton, he, in 1766, entered St. John’s college, Cambridge, where he became acquainted with Rowland Hill, and a select society of devout collegians, and was converted. On leaving college, he was ordained, and accepted the curacy of Ramsden in Essex. He then removed to Buckingham, where, by his extempore preaching of justification by faith, and the nature and necessity of the new birth, he provoked alike the hostility of the surrounding clergy and the sneers of unconverted laics. About the year 1772, he accepted the invitation of Charles Roe, Esq., to his residence at Macclesfield, and soon became curate of what Wesley calls “the old church,” but which, at that period, was the only church that Macclesfield possessed. Here he married Miss Waldy, of Yarm, a young lady of distinguished excellence and piety, who died within six months after Wesley’s visit, leaving to her young husband the care of an infant daughter. Mr. Simpson’s faithful ministry was as much disliked at Macclesfield as it had been at Buckingham. Complaints of his Methodism were made to his diocesan, and twice he was suspended for preaching doctrines, to which, as a clergyman of the Church of England, he had solemnly subscribed. Expelled from the pulpit of the church, he began to preach in the adjacent towns and villages. Just at this juncture, the prime curacy of the church became vacant, and, the nomination being an appendage to the office of the mayor for the time being, Mr. Gould made him the offer, and had the pleasure of seeing it accepted. To prevent Simpson’s induction, a petition, with seventeen articles of accusation, was transmitted to the bishop of Chester, all of which might be reduced to one, namely, that he was a Methodist. In reply, he says, in a letter to his lordship: “This is true. My method is to preach the great truths of the gospel, in as plain, and earnest, and affectionate a manner as I am able. Some, hereby, have become seriously concerned about their salvation. The change is soon discovered; they meet with one or another, who invite them to attend the meetings of the Methodists, by which their number” (the Methodists) “is increased to a considerable degree. This is the truth. I own the fact. I confess myself unequal to the difficulty. What would your lordship advise?” Such was the conflict. Before it came to an issue, Mr. Roe, at his own expense, erected a church, of which Mr. Simpson