e latter
could not have afforded to think so lightly as he did of sound doctrine.

Feeling thus that opinions were a matter of quite secondary
consideration, Wesley had no hesitation about modifying, or even totally
abandoning, opinions which he found to be practically injurious.[734] He
confessed, as we have seen, that he was quite wrong in his theory of the
Divine origin of Episcopacy, and in his estimate of his own state of
mind previous to his conversion in 1738. He very materially modified his
doctrine of Christian perfection when he found it was liable to
practical abuse, and appended notes to an edition of hymns in which that
doctrine was too unguardedly stated.[735] He confessed his error on the
subject of Christian assurance in a characteristically outspoken
fashion. 'When,' he wrote in old age, 'fifty years ago, my brother
Charles and I, in the simplicity of our hearts, taught the people that
unless they _knew_ their sins were forgiven they were under the wrath
and curse of God, I marvel they did not stone us. The Methodists, I
hope, know better now. We preach assurance, as we always did, as a
common privilege of the children of God, but we do not enforce it under
pain of damnation denounced on all who enjoy it not.' He thought it idle
to discuss the question of regeneration in baptism when it was obvious
that baptized persons had practically as much need as heathens to be
born again.[736] It was quite as much their fondness for controversy as
their rigid Calvinism which put him out of love with the Scotch and made
him feel that he could do no good among them.[737]

In accounting for Wesley's repugnance to religious controversy it should
not be forgotten that in the latter half of his life controversial
divinity had sunk to a low ebb, at least among those with whom he would
most naturally come into contact. A man of his logical mind, clear
common sense, and extensive reading could hardly fail to be disgusted
with much that passed for religious literature. He shrunk with a horror
which is almost amusing from the task of reviewing religious
publications in the 'Arminian Magazine.' 'I would not,' he said, 'read
all the religious books that are now published for the whole world.' He
protested against 'what were vulgarly called Gospel sermons.' 'The
term,' he says, 'has now become a mere cant word. I wish none of our
Society would use it. It has no determinate meaning. Let but a pert,
self-sufficient animal that h