Wesley returned to London on February 8, and, a week later, fulfilled a painful duty. For more than twenty years, Dr. Dodd had been one of the most popular preachers in the metropolis. When at the zenith of his fame, he, in 1774, sent an anonymous letter to Lady Apsley, offering £3000 if she would prevail with her husband, the lord chancellor, to appoint him to the valuable rectory of St. George’s, Hanover Square, which was then vacant. The writer was detected, and, as a consequence, was struck out of the list of royal chaplains, was assailed with bitter invectives by the press, and was severely ridiculed by Foote, in a farce, entitled “The Cozeners.” Withdrawing from England, where he had now become an object of contempt, he, for a time, found an asylum at Geneva, with his former pupil, Lord Chesterfield. On his return to this country, he became editor of a newspaper, and then a bankrupt. In 1776, he visited France, and, with little regard to decency, appeared in a phaeton at the races on the plains of Sablons, dressed in all the foppery of the country in which he then resided. Strange to say, he was still popular, as a preacher, at the Magdalen, in London, where he delivered his last discourse on February 2, 1777, from the ominous text: “And among these nations shalt thou find no ease, neither shall the sole of thy foot have rest; but the Lord shall give thee there a trembling heart, and failing of eyes, and sorrow of mind; and thy life shall hang in doubt before thee; and thou shalt fear day and night, and shalt have none assurance of thy life.” Only two days afterwards, he forged the name of Lord Chesterfield to a bond for £4200, on the security of which he obtained a considerable loan. Detection speedily ensued; and, before the month was ended, he was arrested, tried at the Old Bailey, and was convicted. The crime was forgery; the penalty was death. For four months, the unhappy culprit was kept in prison. His friends were indefatigable, in their endeavours, to obtain a commutation of his punishment. Even the city of London, in its corporate capacity, earnestly solicited that his sentence might not be carried into effect. Dr. Johnson, with his weighty pen, tried to arouse popular feeling in his favour, alleging that petitions for clemency had been signed by above thirty thousand people, and that justice might reasonably be satisfied with his imprisonment, infamy, exile, penury, and ruin. All was of no avail; and on June 26 the great preacher died a felon’s death by the hands of the common hangman.