Whatever may be the merits of this high-flown poem, the fact that it was inserted in one of the most able and popular periodicals of the day, affords sufficient evidence of the marvellous fame to which the young Methodist preacher had attained. The incense, however, was not unmixed. Whitefield had many friends; but, as was natural, he also had the fortune of having foes. The crowds praised him; but already envious critics stealthily derided him. Some of the clergy murmured discontent. An unknown artist, in his "Mitred Drones," did his best to make Whitefield ridiculous. The _Weekly Miscellany_, the principal religious newspaper of the period, was getting angry, and already commenced that anti-Methodistic warfare for which it soon became famous. After a long series of leading articles against infidels, the editor began, on October 28, another series against enthusiasts. It is true that Whitefield is not named; but there can be no doubt that he was the chief person meant. Want of space prevents the insertion of more than one extract,--an extract taken from the first article of the series. The redoubtable Mr. Hooker writes:-- "Enthusiasts _feel_ the truth, though they are unable to defend it; and if you ask a _reason_, they can only give you a _rapture_. _Zeal_ without _knowledge_, _sound_ without _sense_, and a _light_ in themselves _which cannot shine forth before men_, are the general symptoms of their disorder. Nay, some of them make the _absence_ of _reason_ necessary to the _presence_ of the _Spirit_; and accordingly their exercises of religion are entirely inconsistent with the least use of their understanding. Their praying in the Spirit is the utmost extravagance of passion, the wildest flights of the imagination; either glaring nonsense, or darkness visible. If in a sermon, for want of clear thinking or expression, there is room left for the _imagination_ to _bewilder_ itself; or the preacher gives a loose to his _passions_, one while rising with the wildest _ecstasy of joy_, again sinking into the lowest _dejection of sorrow_, and venting sighs of the most immoderate _grief_; now railing with all the bitterness of _rage_, then melting into the most soft and tender strains of _affection_; how apt are we, nay, how common is it for the person himself to believe he is under the influence of the Holy Ghost! His not being able to govern his _own_ spirit is thought a proof of his having _that_ of God; as the furor of the Pythian priestess was the sole sign of her inspiration."