“DEAR SAMMY,--The alarm has been general in England as well as Ireland; particularly in the maritime parts. But it has done abundantly more good than harm to the work of God. The children of God have been greatly stirred up, and have been more instant in prayer. And many men of the world have been greatly awakened, and continue so to this day. Most of those who have the fullest intercourse with God believe our enemies will never be permitted to land in England. And, indeed, God has already given abundant proof of His hearing prayer: first, in their not landing at Plymouth, where they stayed gaping and staring for eight-and-forty hours, while they might with all ease have destroyed both the dock and the town; secondly, in the malignant fever which has broken out in their fleet, and already destroyed several thousands of men.”[322] Infidelity will sneer at this; but religion, recognising a ruling Providence, will reverentially bow its head. The crisis was terrible. Sixty-eight French and Spanish ships of the line, and many frigates and smaller vessels, all commanded by D’Orvilliers, appeared off Plymouth. The British fleet did not exceed thirty-eight sail of the line, and was absent at sea, under the command of Admiral Hardy. Where was the difficulty of seizing Plymouth? Wesley writes: “They might have entered it with perfect ease. The wind was fair; there was no fleet to oppose them; there was scarce any garrison, and the few men that were there had no wadding at all, and but two rounds of powder; and only two of the cannon were mounted.” And yet the combined fleet, nearly twice the size of Hardy’s, contented itself with a pompous parade in front of the unprotected town. No wonder that Wesley, with grateful exultation, preached from texts like the one he took at Newcastle: “The Lord sitteth above the waterfloods; the Lord reigneth a king for ever.” Before we track Wesley’s wanderings in 1779, there is another matter which deserves mention. On the 30th of May, 1778, Voltaire died in Paris, in the eighty-fifth year of his age. His death was what the death of an arch infidel might be expected to be. The subjoined anecdote respecting it has long been widely published, but, perhaps, never so nearly traced to its source as now. Wesley had been informed that one of the chaplains of George III. was about to publish Voltaire’s pernicious works in a collected form; and, in a fit of godly indignation, he wrote the following unpublished letter. “_January 4, 1779._ “SIR,--In September last, a gentleman, near Bristol, showed me a letter, which he had received from the Rev. Mr. Fletcher, at Paris. I desired him to give a transcript of one part of it, which he immediately did. It was as follows: