Terrible was the political excitement at the commencement of 1769. It was now, that the first of the celebrated letters of “Junius” appeared in the columns of the _Public Advertiser_. These withering invectives became, to a great extent, the political textbook of the nation. For years past, Ireland also had been turbulent, split into factions, and overrun by hordes of Levellers and Whiteboys, Oakboys and Hearts of Steel, all bound together by secret oaths, and a detestation of paying tithes. The kingdom was full of wicked wits and scoffers; and jokes, repartees, _bonmots_, and sarcasms, none of them distinguished for their loyalty, began to spice a large number of the newspapers, periodicals, and pamphlets of the period. Never was Methodism more greatly needed than now. Whitefield’s work in England was nearly ended. He and Wesley were still united in bonds of ardent friendship. The latter writes: “January 9, 1769--I spent a comfortable and profitable hour with Mr. Whitefield, in calling to mind the former times, and the manner wherein God prepared us for a work which it had not then entered into our hearts to conceive.” On the day following, Wesley preached in the house of the Countess of Huntingdon, in Portland Row, and Whitefield administered the sacrament.[49] And seven weeks later, Wesley wrote again: “February 27--I had one more agreeable conversation with my old friend and fellow labourer, George Whitefield. His soul appeared to be vigorous still, but his body was sinking apace; and, unless God interposes with His mighty hand, he must soon finish his labours.” For six months more, Whitefield rambled over England, preaching three or four times every week, and exclaiming, as though his youthful zest was unabated, “Field preaching, field preaching for ever.”[50] At the beginning of September, he embarked for Georgia, and addressed to Wesley the following farewell letter. “THE DOWNS, ON BOARD THE _Friendship_, Captain Ball, _September 12, 1769_. “REVEREND AND VERY DEAR SIR,--What hath God wrought _for_ us, _in_ us, _by_ us! I sailed out of these Downs almost thirty-three years ago! Oh the height, the depth, the length, the breadth of Thy love, O God! Surely it passeth knowledge. Help, help, O heavenly Father, to adore what we cannot fully comprehend! I am glad to hear, that you had such a pentecost season at the college; one would hope, that these are earnests of good things to come, and that our Lord will not yet remove His candlestick from among us. Duty is ours. Future things belong to Him, who always did, and always will order all things well. ‘Leave to His sovereign sway, To choose and to command; So shall we wondering own His way, How wise, how strong His hand.’