as neither sense nor grace bawl out
something about Christ and His blood, or justification by faith, and his
hearers cry out, "What a fine Gospel sermon!"'[738]

In fact, Wesley in his later years was very much alienated from what was
called 'the religious world.' He had received some of his severest
wounds in the house of his friends. Not Warburton, nor Lavington, nor
Gibson had spoken and written such hard things against him as many of
the most decidedly Evangelical clergy. He clung to the poor and
unlettered, not, as it has been asserted, because he desired to be a
sort of Pope among them, but because he really felt that his work was
there less hampered by the disturbing influence of conflicting opinions,
which were barren of practical effects upon the life. As usual, he made
no secret whatever of his preference. A nobleman accustomed to flattery
on all sides must have been rather taken aback on the receipt of this
very outspoken rebuff from plain John Wesley: 'To speak the rough
truth, I do not desire any intercourse with any persons of quality in
England. They can do me no good, and I fear I can do none to them.'[739]
One can fancy the amazement of Lady Huntingdon, who exacted and received
no small amount of homage from her proteges, when she received a letter
from John Wesley so different from those which were usually addressed to
her. 'My Lady, for a considerable time I have had it in my mind to write
a few lines to your ladyship, though I cannot learn that your ladyship
has ever enquired whether I was living or dead. By the mercy of God I am
still alive and following the work to which He has called me, although
without any help, even in the most trying times, from those I might have
expected it from. Their voice seemed to be rather, _Down with him! down,
even to the ground!_ I mean (for I use no ceremony or circumlocution)
Mr. Madan, Haweis, Berridge, and (I am sorry to say) Whitefield.' Had it
been to an earl instead of a countess the letter would probably have
been rougher still; but John Wesley was a thorough gentleman in every
sense of the word, and could not insult a female--only if the female had
been plain Sarah Ryan instead of Selina, Countess of Huntingdon, she
would have had more chance of being treated with deference; for Wesley
positively disliked the rich and noble. 'In most genteel religious
people,' he said, 'there is so strange a mixture that I have seldom much
confidence in them. But I love the p