after I was stationed in Mossley, I had a public
discussion with a clergyman on the propriety or lawfulness of teaching
the children of the poor to write in our Sunday-schools. The New
Connexion people in the Mossley circuit taught writing in their
Sunday-schools, and they had, in consequence, a very large attendance of
scholars, and very prosperous churches. Their scholars outnumbered those
of all the other schools put together. This seemed to annoy the
ministers of the other denominations, and it was no uncommon thing for
those ministers, when they came to preach the yearly sermons in behalf
of the funds of their Schools, to say strong things against the practice
of the New Connexion. Dr. Nunn, of the Established Church, contended
that it was Sabbath-breaking, and challenged the New Connexion officials
to a public discussion on the subject. They accepted the challenge, and
appointed me their champion. I contended, that in the circumstances in
which the children of the poor were placed at that time, it was an act
of mercy and Christian beneficence to teach them to write on Sundays.
The clergyman gave up the contest before the time allowed for the debate
came to a close, and I was proclaimed victor. I published my views on
the subject in a pamphlet, entitled MERCY TRIUMPHANT, which
had an extensive circulation, and produced a powerful effect on the
views of large numbers of people. Some of my brethren denounced the
pamphlet as heretical, and the editor of the _Magazine_ took occasion to
inform his readers, in an offensive way, that my views were not the
views of the body to which I belonged.

25. In the Sheffield circuit I had several unpleasant collisions with
one of my colleagues, and a couple of superannuated ministers, about a
rich but very unworthy member there. This man was anxious to control the
action of the whole circuit, and even of the whole Connexion, and one of
my colleagues, and the two superannuated ministers, one of which was Mr.
Allin, my old and persistent opponent, took his part. I had myself no
faith in the man. I knew him to be both an ignorant and unworthy person.
He was, in fact, a drunkard. Both he and Mr. Allin once, after having
spent the day at a public feast, came into an official meeting drunk in
the evening. I was present, and saw the horrible sight. It afterwards
came out that this rude, ambitious man was something worse than a
drunkard. I did what I could to avoid an open rupture with my c