Rev. John Wesley

Anonymous, "Verses to a Gentleman" London Daily Post (4 October 1739).

While Wh—tef—d, with his ranting Noise,
Harangues the rude and giddy Rabble,
Most artfully he them decoys,
With the "New Birth," and such like Gabble.

The gaping Multitude admire,
And wonder at the Stentor's Lungs;
They think him fill'd with that same Fire,
Which once appear'd like cloven Tongues.

Mistaken Fools! to be thus led,
By one whose Notions are quite wrong;
That airy Sound with which they're fed,
Will not subsist 'em very long.

Like H—n's late fanatick led,
When he declar'd with zealous Rage,
"It was th' express Command of God,
That he shou'd go a Pilgrimage."

Can any Man forbear to laugh,
When he beholds that silly Cur
Rambling about with a long Staff,
A ragged Coat, and Cap of Fur?

Such Rants as these are all a Joke,
Like their "Indwellings of the Spirit";
This Stuff may take with mad-brain'd Folk,
But not with St—bb—g, Tr—p, nor Sk—rr—t.

Let W—tef—d, W—s—ley, and that Tribe,
No more impose their Inspiration;
And S—g-ve cease to be the Scribe,
In these Enthusiasts Vindication.

A serious View of this new Sect,
Will soon discover to the Mind,
What dang'rous Principles infect
Men, too religiously inclin'd.