“The converts are all made in this manner. First, they become concerned for their souls, and greatly distressed, and not rarely distracted. They continue in this condition for some days, and then, all at once, without any visible means, they come out of their dark and disconsolate state all light, joy, and ecstasy. This they express by their talk to their neighbours, which they call telling their experiences; and, in many places, by immoderate laughter and singing hymns. Their joy is sometimes so great, that, their eyes sparkle, and their faces shine. These are certain signs of the Spirit of God being in them. One of a hundred excepted, they all make religion to consist in the feeling of inward impulses and impressions, in an inexplicable faith, joys, ecstasies, and such-like things. They are bigoted to certain opinions, which they do not understand; and have not the least degree of charity for those who are of another way of thinking. All of them are vain, self-conceited, superstitious, enthusiastic, censorious slanderers. Reason, learning, and morality, they professedly disregard. If they hear a minister preach, in the most evangelical manner, upon any moral duty, or if they hear him recommend the exercise of reason and understanding, they call him a dry, husky, Arminian preacher, and conclude for certain that he is not converted.” The reader may easily imagine the effects likely to be produced, at this juncture, among the Presbyterians of Scotland, by such infamous statements respecting Presbyterian converts and congregations in New England. The subject is a loathsome one; but, perhaps, it is best, once for all, to exhaust it. To say nothing of objectionable passages in Ralph Erskine’s pamphlet, entitled, “Fraud and Falsehood Detected,” and in the sermons he preached at different places in the year 1742, particularly those on Luke xxii. 31, 32; Heb. xiii. 8; and Rev. v. 9;[16] the following publications must have annoyed Whitefield, and, also, injured him in the estimation of the Scottish people.