P. 499. Whitfield.—­Certainly not the founder of the Methodists, in the ordinary or recognised acceptation of the term.  John Wesley was at the head of that movement from the very first, and George Whitfield and Charles Wesley were altogether subordinate to him.  Wesley and Whitfield parted company on the ground of Arminianism versus Calvinism.  For a while the two sects kept the titles of “Arminian Methodists” and “Calvinistic Methodists.”  The latter made but little ground afterwards, and the distinctive adjective was dropped by the Wesleyans when the Whitfieldites had ceased to be a prominent body.

P. 515. Doctor Dodd.—­The great interest excited in favour of a commutation of his sentence, led to the belief at the time, that his life had not been really sacrificed.  Many plausible stories respecting the Doctor having been subsequently seen alive, were current; and as they may possibly in some future age be revived, and again pass into general currency, it may be as well to state that the most positive evidence to the contrary exists, in a letter of Dr. Hutton’s before referred to.  The attempt to resuscitate him was actually made, by a no less distinguished surgeon than John Hunter.  He seemed then to attribute the failure to his having received the body too late.  Wonderful effects were at that time expected to result from the discovery of galvanism; but it would have been wonderful indeed if any restoration had taken place after more than two hours of suspended animation.  John Hunter, according to the account, does not seem to have been very communicative on the subject, even to his philosophical friends at Slaughter’s Oyster Rooms.

T.S.D.

Shooter’s Hill.

[Footnote 1:  It may not be out of place here to mention one fine feature in the character of “Tom Hurst;” his deep reverence for men of ability, whether in literature, science, or art.  Take one instance: 

Fourteen or fifteen years ago, I called one morning at his place of business (then 65.  St. Paul’s Church Yard, which has been subsequently absorbed into the “Religious Tract Depository"); and, as was my custom, I walked through the shop to his private room.  He was “not in;” but a gentleman, who first looked at me and then at a portrait of me on the wall, accosted me by my surname as familiarly as an intimate acquaintance of twenty years would have done.  He and Hurst, it appeared, had been speaking of me, suggested by the picture, before Hurst went out.  The familiar stranger did not keep me long in suspense—­he intimated that I had “probably heard our friend speak of Ben Haydon.”  Of course I had; and we soon got into an easy chat.  Hurst was naturally a common subject with us.  Amongst the remarks he made were the following, and in almost the words:—­