-the dignity of Royal Champion, fought and
lost an election with the Whig candidates, Colonel Whichcott and
Mr. Albert Bertie. The Dissenters of course supported these; and
Mr. Wesley, scorning insults and worse, the unpopular side: with what
results we may read in these extracts from letters to the Archbishop
of York.

Epworth, June 7th, 1705.

I went to Lincoln on Tuesday night, May 29th, and the election
began on Wednesday, 30th. A great part of the night our Isle
people kept drumming, shouting, and firing of pistols and guns
under the window where my wife lay, who had been brought to bed
not three weeks. I had put the child to nurse over against my
own house; the noise kept his nurse waking till one or two in
the morning. Then they left off, and the nurse being heavy with
sleep, overlaid the child. She waked, and finding it dead, ran
over with it to my house almost distracted, and calling my
servants, threw it into their arms. They, as wise as she, ran
up with it to my wife and, before she was well awake, threw it
cold and dead into hers. She composed herself as well as she
could, and that day got it buried.

A clergyman met me in the castle yard and told me to withdraw,
for the Isle men intended me a mischief. Another told me he had
heard near twenty of them say, "if they got me in the castle
yard, they would squeeze my guts out." My servant had the same
advice. I went by Gainsbro', and God preserved me.

When they knew I was got home, they sent the drum and mob, with
guns etc. as usual, to compliment me till after midnight.
One of them, passing by on Friday evening and seeing my children
in the yard, cried out "O ye devils! We will come and turn ye
all out of doors a-begging shortly." God convert them, and
forgive them!

All this, thank God, does not in the least sink my wife's
spirits. For my own, I feel them disturbed and
disordered. . . .

The rebuilding of the parsonage and some unhappy essays in farming
his glebe had run the Rector still farther in debt: and now, not
satisfied with winning the election, his enemies struck at him
privily. His next letter is dated not three weeks later from the
debtors' ward in Lincoln.

Lincoln Castle, June 25th, 1705.

My Lord,--Now I am at rest,