Partings

THE routine of life at Wroote, where there was " plenty of meat and drink/' though money and clothes were so scarce, and where the girls each took their part in the business of the house and glehe, and in waiting on their parents, is pleasantly described in verse by Samuel Wesley, who saw things at their best during his visit in the summer of 1725, and probably then succeeded in reconciling Hetty and her father and mother. Odes and metrical addresses were very much in vogue, and the Wesleys were all fluent writers of verse. The piece was entitled " Wroote," and sent to Hetty. Here are a few of the stanzas which are contained in his published poems : — The spacious glebe around the house Affords full pasture to the cows, Whence largely milky nectar flows, O sweet and cleanly dairy !

Unless or Moll, or Anne, or you Your duty should neglect to do ;

And then 'ware haunches black and blue By pinching of a fairy.

Observe the warm well-littered sty Where sows and pigs and porkets lie ; Nancy or you the draff supply. They swill and care not whither.

•* *• * * But not so glad As you to wait upon your dad !

Oh, 'tis exceeding pretty ! Methinks I see you striving all Who first shall answer to his call, Or lusty Anne, or feeble Moll, Sage Pat, or sober Hetty ; To rub his cassock's draggled tail, Or reach his hat from off the nail, Or seek the key to draw his ale, When damsel haps to steal it. To burn his pipe, or mend his clothes, Or nicely darn his russet hose — For comfort of his aged toes — So fine they cannot feel it.

There were, however, times when Wroote was far from being a pleasant abode even in summer, while the difficulties of serving the two cures were very great. Mr. Wesley, though glad of help from his sons when they could come, was afraid lest their constitutions should suffer from hardships which did not appear to have any worse effect on himself than increasing the weariness of which from time to time he complained. Part of a letter written to John, in June 1727, tells what the difficulty was of getting about the fen country when the waters were out : — " When you come hither, after having taken care of Charterhouse, and your own rector, your head-quartera will be, I believe, for the most part at Wroote, as mine, if I can at Epworth, though sometimes making an exchange. The truth is, I am ipped (sic) by my voyage and journey to and from Epworth last Sunday, being lamed with getting wet, partly with a downfall from a thunder-shower, and partly from the wash over the boat. Yet, I thank God, I was able to preach here in the afternoon, and was as well this morning as ever, except a little pain and lameness, both which I hope to wash off with a hair of the same dog this evening.

" I wish the rain had not reached us on this side Lincoln, but we have it so continual that we have scarce one bank left, and I can't possibly have one quarter of oats in all the levels ; but, thanks be to God, the field barley and rye are good. We can neither go afoot or horseback to Epworth, but only by boat as far as Scawsit Bridge, and then walk over the Common, though I hope it will soon be better. ... I would have your studies as little interrupted as possible, and hope I shall do a month or two longer, as I 'm sure I ought to do all I can both for God's family and my own ; and when I find it sinks me, or perhaps a little before, I '11 certainly send you word, with about a fortnight's notice ; and in the meantime sending you my blessing, as being your loving father, " SAMUEL WESLEY."

A few days later he wrote : — " I knew John could not get between Wroote and Epworth without hazarding his health or life ; whereas my hide is tough, and I think no carrion can kill me. I walked sixteen miles yesterday ; and, thank God, this morning I was not a penny worse."

A glimpse of dutiful conduct and industry on the part of one of the girls is also chronicled by the Rector in one of his letters to John at Oxford, where he says : " M miraculously gets money even at Wroote, and has given the first fruit of her earning to her mother, lending her money, and presenting her with a new cloak of her own buying and making, for which God will bless her/' The marriages of some of the daughters took place from Wroote, though Susanna was married in 1721 to Mr. Ellison before leaving the Epworth parsonage. He was comfortably off in those days, and she bore him four children, but he was extremely disliked by the Wesleys; and, after a fire which destroyed his house so that the family only just escaped with their lives, his wife left him never to return, and spent the remainder of her days among her children who were grown up and settled in London and Bristol.

Hetty must have been married from Wroote to William Wright very much against her own will, and justly so, as he was in every way unsuited to her. Her uncle Matthew gave her a handsome sum of money, with which her husband set himself up in business in London, where they lived in Crown Court and Frith Street, Soho. Most of her children died in infancy, to her great grief, and her uncouth and illiterate husband took to drinking habits and ill-treated her. She saw a good deal of her uncle while he lived, of her brother at Westminster, and of John and Charles when they were in London. They all sympathised with her, and did all that could be done by fraternal affection to lighten her burdens. She was known and highly thought of in the literary circles of the day, meeting clever people at her uncle's house. Like most of her family, she wrote poems, many of which were published from time to time in the Gentleman's Magazine.

Aime appears to have been married in 1725 to John, Lambert, a land surveyor of Epworth, a very worthy man, who was fond of her and appreciated her father's talents. They lived for some time at Epworth, and then removed to Hatfield, where they were within reach of their relatives in London. They had one son named after John Wesley, who was his god-father. Mr. Lambert collected all his father-in-law's pamphlets, and took great pride in them. This marriage was in every way satisfactory.

One of the events that diversified the monotony of life at Wroote must have been the memorable application (probably about 1725) of Garrett Wesley, of Dangan Castle, Ireland, to the Rector, who was hi& kinsman, asking whether he had a son named Charles, and, if so, whether he would allow him to be appointed his heir. The youth left the decision to his father, who again referred it to Charles as the person most nearly concerned; and Mr. Garrett Wesley went to see him at Westminster and pressed him to accept what he had to offer. For some unaccountable reason it was refused, and Garrett Wesley left his property to a more distant relation, Richard Colley, on condition that he should assume the name of Wesley and the armorial bearings of the family. This Richard Colley Wesley was created Baron Mornington in 1746, and his only son Garrett married the daughter of Viscount Dunganuon, and became in due time Earl of Mornington. His eldest sou was the Marquis Wellesley, some time Governor-General of India, and his third son the great Duke of Wellington.

In none of Mrs. Wesley's correspondence is the slightest allusion made to this circumstance. It is difficult to imagine why the heirship should have been refused. Most parents with so large a family would have been only too thankful that one of them should have been raised to a station which his talents and character in every way fitted him to adorn, and Mr. Wesley's natural anxiety on behalf of his wife, should she survive him, would have been allayed had one of his sons been in good circumstances. John Wesley, in the fervour of his religious zeal, and appreciating his brother as a coadjutor, once remarked that this decision made by Charles was " a fair escape " ; and Methodist writers generally have regarded and spoken of him as a kind of eighteenth-century Moses, " who esteemed the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt." The followers of John Wesley, however, have not shown themselves averse to wealth, and many of them have made noble use of it.

While John Wesley was a resident Fellow of Lincoln, and spending his long vacations at Wroote, he was not insensible to feminine charms. As is well known, he succumbed several times to the power of the tender passion, although, when quite a middle-aged man, he made a prosaic match that brought him little or nohappiness. The home circle was aware that in 1727 his fancy was caught by a young lady in Worcestershire, Betty Kirkham, and it is probable that she was his first love. He was on unusually affectionate terms with his mother, and perhaps made her his confidante, for only something of that nature was likely to have called forth the following beautiful letter : — "DEAR SON, " Wroote, May 14th, 1725.

"The difficulty there is in separating the ideas of things that nearly resemble each other, and whose properties and effects are much the same, has, I believe, induced some to think that the human soul has no passion but love ; and that all those passions or affections which we distinguish by the names of hope, fear, joy, &c., are no more than various modes of love. This notion carries some show of reason, though 1 cannot acquiesce in it. I must confess I never yet met with such an accurate definition of the passion of love as fully satisfied me. It is, indeed, commonly defined as ' a desire of union with a known or apprehended good.' But this directly makes love and desire the same thing, which, on a close inspection, I conceive they are not for this reason : desire is strongest and acts most vigorously when the beloved object is distant, absent, or apprehended unkind or displeased; whereas when the union is attained and fruition perfect, complacency, delight, and joy fill the soul of the lover while desire lies quiescent, which plainly shows (at least to me) that desire of union is an effect of love, and not love itself.

" What then is love ? Or how shall we describe its strange mysterious essence? It is — I do not know what ! A powerful something ! source of our joy and grief, felt and experienced by everyone, and yet unknown to all ! Nor shall we ever comprehend what it ds till we are united to our First Principle, and there read its wondrous nature in the clear mirror of un•created Love ; till which time it is best to rest satisfied with such apprehensions of its essence as we can collect from our observations of its effects and propensities ; for other knowledge of it in our present state is too high and too wonderful for us, neither can we attain to it.

" Suffer now a word of advice. However curious you may be in searching into the nature, or in distinguishing the properties, of the passions or virtues of human kind for your own private satisfaction, be very cautious in giving nice distinctions in public assemblies ; for it does not answer the true end of preaching, which is tomend men's lives, and not fill their heads with unprofitable speculations. And after all that can be said, every affection of the soul is better known by experience than any description that can be given of it. An honest man will more easily apprehend what is meant by being zealous for God and against sin when he hears what are the properties and effects of true zeal, than the most accurate definition of its essence.

" Dear Son, the conclusion of your letter is very kind. That you were ever dutiful, I very well know. But I know myself enough to rest satisfied with a moderate degree of your affection. Indeed, it would be unjust in me to desire the love of anyone. Your prayers I want and wish ; nor shall I cease while I live to beseech Almighty God to bless you. Adieu !

" SUSANNA WESLEY."

Part of a letter written to John at Oxford during the winter of 1727 shows that Mrs. Wesley sometimes gave him prudent, practical advice which was not exclusively religious : — " DEAR JACKY, " Jan. 31st, 1727.

" I am nothing pleased we advised you to have your plaid, though I am that you think it too dear, because I take it to be an indication that you are disposed to thrift, which is a rare qualification in a young man who has his fortune to make. Indeed, such a one can hardly be too wary, or too careful. 1 would not recommend taking thought for the morrow any further than is needful for our improvement of present opportunities in a prudent management of those talents God has committed to our trust ; and so far I think it is the duty of all to take thought for the morrow. And I heartily wish you may be well apprised of this -while life is young. For — ' Believe me, youth, (for I am read in cares, And bend beneath the weight of more than fifty years)/ Believe me, dear Son, old age is the worst time we can choose to mend either our lives or our fortunes. If the foundations of solid piety are not laid betimes in sound principles and virtuous dispositions, and if we neglect, while strength and vigour lasts, to lay up something ere the infirmities of age overtake us, it is a hundred to one odds that we shall die both poor and wicked.

" Ah ! my dear son, did you with me stand on the verge of life, and saw before your eyes a vast expanse, an unlimited duration of being, which you might shortly enter upon, you can't conceive how all the inadvertencies, mistakes, and sins of youth would rise to your view ; and how different the sentiments of sensitive pleasures, the desire of sexes, and pernicious friendships of the world would be then from what they are now, while health is entire and seems to promise many years of life.

" SUSANNA WESLEY."

In the spring or early summer of 1731, Mr. Matthew Wesley, the elder brother of the Rector of Epworth, made a journey to Scarborough, accompanied only by a servant, and stayed to visit his relations on the way.

He had shown some of their children many kindnesses, and had seen his brother from time to time when business took him to London, but had never before been at his home. It appears that the family was by that time again at Epworth, and all that is directly known of the visit is contained in a letter from Mrs. Wesley to John at Oxford.

" July 12th, 1731.

" My brother Wesley had designed to have surprised us, and had travelled under a feigned name from London to Gainsborough ; but there, sending his man out for guide to the Isle (of Axholme) the next day, the man told one that keeps our market his master's name, and that he was going to see his brother, which was the minister of Epworth. The man he informed met with Molly in the market about an hour before my brother got thither. She, full of the news, hastened home, and told us her uncle Wesley was coming to see us, but we could hardly believe her. 'Twas odd to observe how all the town took the alarm, and were upon the gaze, as if some great prince had been about to make his entry. He rode directly to John Dawson's (the Inn) ; but we had soon notice of his arrival, and sent John Brown with an invitation to our house. He expressed some displeasure at his servant for letting us know of his coming, for he intended to have sent for Mr. Wesley to dine with him at Dawson's, and then come to visit us in the afternoon. However, he soon followed John home, where we were all ready to receive him with great satisfaction.

" His behaviour among us was perfectly civil and obliging. He spake little to the children the first day, being employed (as he afterwards told them) in observing their carriage, and seeing how he liked them ;

afterwards he was very free, and expressed great kindness to them all.

" He was strangely scandalised at the poverty of our furniture, and much more at the meanness of the children's habits. He always talked more freely with your sisters of our circumstances than to me, and told them he wondered what his brother had done with his income, for 'twas visible he had not spent it in furnishing his house or clothing his family.

" We had a little talk together sometimes, but it was not often we could hold a private conference ; and he was very shy of speaking anything relating to the children before your father, or indeed of any other matter. I informed him, as far as I handsomely could, of our losses, &c., for I was afraid that he should think that I was about to beg of him ; but the girls (with whom he had many private discourses), I believe, told! him everything they could think on.

" He was particularly pleased with Patty [who was then twenty-five years old] ; and, one morning, before Mr. Wesley came down, he asked me if I was willing to let Patty go and stay a year or two with him in London. ' Sister,' says he, ' I have endeavoured already to make one of your children easy while she lives ; and if you choose to trust Patty with me, I will endeavour to make her so too/ Whatever others may think, I thought this a generous offer ; and the more so, because he had done so much for Sukey and Hetty. I expressed my gratitude as well as I could, and would have had him speak to your father, but he would not himself — he left that to me ; nor did he ever mention it to Mr. Wesley till the evening before he left us. He always behaved himself very decently at family prayers, and, in your father's absence, said grace for us before and after meat. Nor did he ever interrupt our privacy, but went into his own chamber when we went into ours.

" He stayed from Thursday to the Wednesday after ; then he left us to go to Scarborough, whence he returned the Saturday se'nnight after, intending to stay with us a few days ; but, finding your sisters gone the day before to Lincoln, he would leave us on Sunday morning, for, he said, he might see the girls before they set forward for London. He overtook them at Lincoln, and had Mrs. Taylor, Emilia, and Kezzy, with the rest, to supper with him at the < Angel.' On Monday they breakfasted with him ; then they parted, expecting to see him no more till they came to London ; but on Wednesday he sent his man to invite them to supper at night. On Thursday he invited them to dinner, at night to supper, and on Friday morning to breakfast, when he took his leave of them and rode for London. They got into town on Saturday about noon, and that evening Patty writ me an account of the journey.

" Dear Jacky, I can't stay now to talk about Hetty and Patty, but this — I hope better of both than some others do. I pray God to bless you. Adieu !

" SUSANNA WESLEY."

The poor Rector, after his brother's return to London, received a stern letter from him on the sin of not having better provided for his family. It does not appear, however, that he was addicted to any worse personal extravagance than his pipe and a little snuff; but on the one hand he had no aptitude for business, and on the other, Mr. Matthew Wesley, having had but one child of his own (a son, who turned out badly), did not know how expensive it was to have for so many years an ailing wife and an annually increasing family, and was equally ignorant of the cost of clothing so large a number of grown-up girls. His nieces were no longer children, and were no doubt able to give him a tolerably correct idea of the true state of affairs ; and he seems to have been too kind to have given pain unless there was good cause for it. He evidently thought that a man had no business to surround himself with more olive-branches than he could afford to bring up decently and provide for ; but there the Rector differed from him in toto, and evidently considered that he had considerably benefited his country by adding so largely to the population.

There is another of Mrs. Wesley's letters bearing the same date; but whether that is exact is not ascertainable. It is just possible that news of the accident she relates may have been forwarded to London immediately after its occurrence, and may have caused Mr. Matthew Wesley's unexpected " DEAR JACKY, " July 12th, 1731.

" On Friday, June 4th, I, your sister Martha, and our maid were going in our waggon to see the ground we hire of Mrs. Knight at Low Millwood. Father sat in a chair at one end of the waggon, I in another at the other end, Mattie between us. and the maid behind me. Just before we reached the •close, going down a small hill, the horses took into a gallop, and out flew your father and his chair. The maid, seeing the horses run, hung all her weight on my chair and kept me from keeping him company. She cried out to William to stop the horses, and that her master was killed. The fellow leaped out of the seat and stayed the horses, then ran to Mr. Wesley ; but ere he got to him, two neighbours, who were providentially met together, raised his head, upon which he had pitched, and held him backwards, by which means he began to respire ; for it is certain, by the blackness of his face, that he had never drawn breath from the time of his fall till they helped him up. By this time I was got to him, asked him how he did, and persuaded him to drink a little ale, for we had brought a bottle with us. He looked prodigiously wild, but began to speak, and told me he ailed nothing. I informed him of his fall. He said ' he knew nothing of any fall, he was as well as ever he was in his life/ We bound up his head, which was very much bruised, and helped him into the waggon again, and sat him at the bottom of it, while I supported his head between my hands, and the man led the horses gently home. I sent presently for Mr. Harper, who took a good quantity of blood from him ; and then he began to feel pain in several parts, particularly in his side and shoulder. He had a very ill night ; but on Saturday morning Mr. Harper came again to him, dressed his head, and gave him something which much abated the pain in his side. We repeated the dose at bed-time; and on Sunday he preached twice and gave the Sacrament, which was too much for him to do, but nobody could dissuade him from it. On Monday he was ill, and slept almost all day. On Tuesday the gout came, but with two or three nights taking Bateman, it went off again, and he has since been better than we could have expected. We thought at first the waggon had gone 11 * over him, but it only went over his gown sleeve, and the nails took a little skin off his knuckles, but did him no further hurt.

"Sus. WESLEY."

Mr. Wesley was evidently much shaken by this accident, from which he never thoroughly recovered ; and, perhaps, taking it in conjunction with his brother's remonstrances, began to think seriously what would become of his wife and unmarried daughters if he were to die. Previously his sons seem to have been his first consideration, and perhaps that rankled a little in the minds of the girls, not because they grudged their brothers anything or were not proud of them, but because girls are conscious that they have at least as much claim on their parents as the boys. However this may have been, the father began to think it desirable that he should resign the living in favour of one of his sons, if that son could only be persuaded to accept it. First of all, he proposed it to Samuel, who had just lost his only son, and was terribly unsettled besides, because, after having been for twenty years an usher in Westminster School, he was deprived of what he considered his right. The head-master resigned ; Dr. Nicoll, the second master was appointed in his stead ; and Samuel Wesley, according to old precedent, expected the position of under or second master. Unhappily, he was not merely a Tory, but a positive Jacobite, and compromised by his devotion to the exiled Bishop Atterbury and his cause, which was that of the Pretender ; consequently he found himself shut off from everything he most desired. At this crisis came his father's suggestion that he should become Rector of Epworth. " You have been," said the old man, " a father to your brothers and sisters, especially to the former, who have cost you great sums in their education both before and since they went to the University. Neither have you stopped here, but have showed your pity to your mother and me in a very liberal manner, wherein your wife joined with you, when you did not overmuch abound yourselves, and have even done noble charities to my children's children. Now what should I be if I did not endeavour to make you easy to the utmost of my power, especially when I know that neither of you have your health at London. ... As for your aged and infirm mother, as soon as I drop she must turn out unless you succeed me, which, if you do, and she survives me, I know you '11 immediately take her then to your own house, or rather continue her there, where your wife and you will nourish her till we meet again in heaven ; and you will be a guide and a stay to the rest of the family."

Samuel, however, was not to be persuaded ; he kne\* that, wherever he lived, his home would be open to his mother if she ever needed it, and was not at all inclined to bury himself in Lincolnshire. The subject was dropped for a little while, and supplanted by a new and engrossing interest in the now small Epworth circle. This was the engagement and marriage of Mary, or " Moll," the deformed daughter, who was called by Charles the ' ' Patient Grizzle " of the family. Her husband was John Whitelamb, who was originally a poor boy in a small charity school at Wroote. Mr. Wesley observed that his mental abilities were considerable, and he must have written a good legible hand, for he was taken into the house at Epworth to transcribe the Rector's ponderous work on the Book of Job, and even to illustrate it with drawings of maps and figures according to the " light of nature." Art was at a very low ebb ; and Mr. Wesley could have been no judge of it, or he would not have dreamed that such drawings could add to the interest of his book, yet even he could see the lack of artistic merit in some of them. In return for " poor starveling Johnnie Whitelamb's " services he received instruction in Latin and Greek, and finally was sent to Oxford, where John Wesley did all he could for him, and spoke highly of his industry, intelligence, and faculty in learning languages. So poor was Whitelamb, that the Wesleys, father and son, and a few friends clubbed together to buy him a gown, though that is not a very costly item of apparel. He took deacon's orders, and became curate at Epworth, to the great comfort of his^ friend and patron who loved and trusted him. He certainly on one occasion saved his life at Burringham Ferry, when, Mr. Wesley says, " John Whitelamb's long legs and arms swarmed up into the keel and lugged me in after him." He was probably a good deal younger than Mary, who was thirty-eight when she married him ; but the affection between them was genuine, and the match had the cordial approbation of all the family. It was extremely difficult to get any curate to live at Wroote, so damp and uninviting was the place; but Whitelamb loved it, and was very earnest in his desire to minister in its church, so Mr* Wesley provided for him and Mary by resigning this small living, and begging the Lord Chancellor to bestow it on his son-in-law. This was done ; and he also contrived to give them twenty pounds to start with. Mary did not, however, long enjoy her new status and her husband's affectionate care, for she died in her confinement before she had been married a year, and,.

with her babe, was buried in the church. Mrs. Wesley felt her loss very much, and the widower went to Epworth for sympathy. He was in the frame of mind in which men volunteer for missions, or hard work of any kind, and absence from the scenes that recall their sorrows ; so Mr. Wesley wrote about him to General Oglethorpe, who was already at work in Georgia, and had a Wroote man among his party : — " DEAR SIR, " Epworth, Dec. 7th, 1734.

" I cannot express how much I am obliged by your last kind and instructive letter concerning the affairs of Georgia. I could not read it over without sighing (though I have read it several times) when I again reflected on my own age and infirmities, which made such an expedition utterly impracticable for me. Yet my mind worked hard about it ; and it is not impossible but Providence may have directed me to such an expedient as may prove more serviceable to your colony than I should ever have been.

" The thing is thus. There is a young man who has been with me a pretty many years, and assisted me in my work of Job ; after which I sent him to Oxford, to my son John Wesley, Fellow of Lincoln College, who took care of his education, where he behaved himself very well, and improved in piety and learning. Then I sent for him down, having got him into deacon's orders, and he was my curate in my absence in London ; when I resigned my small living of Wroote to him, and he was instituted and inducted there. I likewise consented to his marrying one of my daughters, there having been a long and intimate friendship between them. But neither he nor I were so happy as to have them live long together, for she died in childbed of her first child. He was so inconsolable at her loss, that I was afraid he would soon have followed her; to prevent which I desired his company here at my house, that he might have some amusement and business by assisting me in my Cure during my illness. It was then, Sir, 1 just received the favour of yours, and let him see it for his diversion, more especially because John Lyndal and he had been fellow parishioners and schoolfellows at Wroote, and had no little kindness one for the other. I made no great reflection on the thing at first ; but soon after, when I found he had thought often upon it, was very desirous to go to Georgia himself, and wrote the enclosed letter to me on the subject, and I knew not of any person more proper for such an undertaking, I thought the least I could do was to send the letter to your Honour, who would be so very proper a judge of the affair ; and if you approve, I shall riot be wanting in my addresses to my Lord Bishop of London, or any other, since I expect to be in London myself at spring, to forward the matter as far as it will go.

" As for his character, I shall take it upon myself that he is a good scholar, a sound Christian, and a good liver. He has a very happy memory, especially for languages, and a judgment and intelligence not inferior. My eldest son at Tiverton has some knowledge of him, concerning whom I have writ to him since your last to me. My two others, his tutor at Lincoln, and my third of Christ Church, have been long and intimately acquainted with him ; and I doubt not but they will give him at least as just a character as I have done. And here I shall rest the matter till I have the honour of hearing again from you ; and shall either drop it or prosecute it as appears most proper to your maturer judgment; ever remaining your Honour's most sincere and most obliged friend and servant, " SAMUEL WESLEY."

John Whitelamb, however, did not go to Georgia, but spent most of his time at Epworth during the months of pain and feebleness that preceded Mr. Wesley's death, though he seems to have made so long an absence, probably at Oxford, that Mrs. Wesley inquired of her sons about him. He ultimately returned to Wroote, where he lived a retired and studious life for thirty years, dying in 1769. He did not quite agree with John and Charles Wesley on religious subjects, which they did not very well like, and the whole family dropped their intercourse with him.

That the mother was afraid lest Martha should lose her comfortable home with her uncle Matthew is shown by a short letter dated February 21, 1732, and written on the same sheet as the one to John in which she detailed her famous system of education : — •" DEAR CHARLES, " Though you have not had time to tell me so since we parted, yet I hope you are in health ; and when you are more at leisure, I shall be glad to hear .you are so from yourself. I should be pleased enough to see you here this spring, if it were not upon the hard condition of your walking hither ; but that always terrifies me, and I am commonly so uneasy for fear you should kill yourself with coming so far on foot, that it destroys much of the pleasure I should otherwise have in conversing with you.

" I fear poor Patty has several enemies at London, and that they have put it in her head to visit us this summer. I am apt to believe that if they get her once out of my brother's house they will take care to keep her thence for ever. It is a pity that honest, generous girl has not a little of the subtlety of the serpent with the innocence of the dove. She is no match for those who malign her; for she scorns to do an unworthy action, and therefore believes everybody else does so too. Alas ! it is a great pity that all the human species are not as good as they ought to be.

" Prithee, what has become of John \Vhitelamb ? Is he yet alive ? Where is Mr. Morgan ? If with you, pray give my service to him. I am sorry the wood-drink did him no service. 1 never knew it fail before, if drank regularly ; but perhaps he was too far gone before he used it. I doubt he eats too little or sleeps cold, which last poisons the blood above all things. Dear Charles, I send you my love and blessing. Em, Matty, Kez send their love to you both.

"SUSANXA WESLEY. "

A letter that has not appeared since the year 1800. when it was published in the Methodist Pocket Book, shows how warm an interest Mrs. Wesley took in John's pupils, and how they exchanged opinions on books as well as doctrines : — "DEAR SON, " Epworth, Jan. 1st, 1733.

"Pray give my service to Mr. Robinson, your pupil, and tell him I am as good as my word ; I daily pray for him, and beg him, if he has the least regard for his soul, or any remaining sense of religion, to shake off all acquaintance with the prophane. It is the free-thinker and the sensualist, not the despised Methodist, who will be ashamed and confounded when called to appear before that AlmightyJudge whose Godhead they have blasphemed, and whose offered mercy they have rejected and ludicrously despised.

" The pleasures of sin are but for a short and uncertain time, but eternity hath no end ; therefore one would think that few arguments might serve to convince a man who has not lost his senses that it is of the greatest importance to us to be very serious in improving the present time, and acquainting ourselves with God while it is called to-day, lest, being disqualified for His blissful presence, our future existence be inexpressibly miserable.

" You are certainly right. The different degrees of piety are different states of mind which we must pass through ; and he who cavils at practical advice plainly shows that he has not gone through those states ; for in all matters of a religious nature, if there be not an internal sense in the hearers corresponding to that sense in the mind of the speaker, what is said will have little effect. Yet sometimes it falls out that, while a zealous Christian is speaking on spiritual subjects, the blessed Spirit of God will give such light to the mind of the hearers as will dispel their native darkness, and enable them to apprehend those spiritual things, of which before they had no knowledge. As in the case of Cornelius and his friends, it is said : ' While Peter spake these words, the Holy Ghost fell on all them that heard him.' " Mr. Law is a good man, yet he is but a man ; and, therefore, no marvel that he has not been so explicit as you could have wished in speaking on some particular subjects. Perhaps his mind was too full of the sense of that blessed Being readily to hit upon words to express a thing so far above their nature. Who can think, much less speak, on that vast subject ? His greatness, His dignity, astonishes us ! The purity of His nature, His redeeming love, confounds and overpowers us ! At the perception of His glory, our feeble powers are suspended, and nature faints before the God of nature.

" For my own part, after many years' search and enquiry, I still continue to pay my devotions to an Unknown God. I dare not say I love Him ; only this — I have chosen Him for my own Happiness, my All, my only Good ; in a word — for my God. And when I sound my will, I feel it adheres to its choice, though not so faithfully as it ought. Therefore I desire your prayers, which I need much more than you do mine.

" That God is everywhere present, and we always present to Him, is certain ; but that we should always be able to realise His presence is quite another thing. Some choice souls have obtained such an habitual sense of the presence of God as admits of few interruptions. But, my dear, consider, He is so infinitely blessed, so absolutely lovely, that every perception of Him, every approach to His supreme glory and blessedness, imparts such a vital joy and gladness to the mind, as banishes all pain and sense of misery ; and were eternity added to this happiness, it would be heaven.

" My love and blessing attend you ! " I am, your affectionate mother, " SUSANNA WESLEY."

Mrs. Wesley had a good deal of anxiety about the health of her sons at Oxford, and suffered much herself " from pain of body and other severer trials not convenient to mention," besides seeing her husband's health rapidly failing ; but no word about her own probable privations after his demise ever seems to have escaped her. Perhaps this was from the unselfishness of her nature, or perhaps she never thought it likely that she should survive him. She alludes to several of these subjects in portions of a letter to John : — " I don't know how you may have represented your case to Dr. Huntingdon. I have had occasion to make some observation in consumptions, and am pretty certain that several symptoms of that disorder are beginning upon you, and that unless you take more care than you do, you will put the matter past dispute in a little time. But take your own way ; I have already given you up, as I have some before which once were very dear to me. Charles, though I believe not in a consumption, is in a fine state of health for a man of two or three and twenty, that can.'t eat a full meal but he must presently throw it up again ! It is a great pity that folks should be no wiser, and that they can't fit the mean in a case where it is so obvious to view that none can mistake it that do not do it on purpose. I heartily join with your small society in all their pious and charitable actions which are intended for God's glory, and am glad to hear that Mr. Clayton and Mr. Hall have met with desired success. May you still in such good works go on and prosper. Though absent in body, I am with you in the spirit, and daily recommend and commit you all to Divine Providence. You do well to wait on the Bishop, because it is a point of prudence and civility ; though, if he be a good man, I cannot think it in the power of anyone to prejudice him against you.

" Your arguments against horse-races do certainly conclude against masquerades, balls, plays, operas, and all such light and vain diversions, which, whether the gay people of the world will own it or no, do strongly confirm and strengthen the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life ; all which we must renounce, or renounce our God and hope of eternal salvation. I will not say it is impossible for a person to have any sense of religion who frequents those vile assemblies, but I never, throughout the course of my long life, knew so much as one serious Christian that did ; nor can I see how a lover of God can have any relish for such vain amusements.

" The The Life of God in the Soul of Man is an excellent, good book, and was an acquaintance of mine many years ago, but I have unfortunately lost it. There are many good things in Baxter, with some faults, which I overlook for the sake of the virtues. Nor can I say of all the books of divinity I have read which is the best ; one is the best at one time, one at another, according to the temper and disposition of the mind.

" Your father is in a very bad state of health : he sleeps little and eats less. He seems not to have any apprehension of his approaching exit, but I fear he has but a short time to live. It is with much pain and difficulty that he performs Divine Service on the Lord's Day, which sometimes he is obliged to contract very much. Everybody observes his decay but himself, and people really seem much concerned for him and his family.

" The two girls, being uneasy in their present situations, do not apprehend the sad consequences which in all appearance must attend his death so much as I think they ought to do ; for, as bad as they think their condition now, I doubt it will be far worse when his head is laid low. Your sisters send their love to you and Charles ; and my love and blessing to you both. Adieu.

" SUSANNA WESLEY."

Some parts of a very long letter written to John by his mother during Mr. Wesley's last absence in London, are interesting as showing how well she was acquainted, through her son's conversation and letters, with his Oxford friends, and the mode of dividing their time and regulating their occupations which had already earned for them the appellation of Methodists : — SON, " Saturday, March 30th, 1734.

" The young gentleman's father (Mr. Morgan), for aught I can perceive, has a better notion of religion than many people, though not the best, for few insist upon the necessity of private prayers. But if they go to church sometimes, and abstain from the grossest acts of mortal sin, though they .are ignorant of the spirit and power of godliness, and have no sense of the love of God and universal benevolence, yet they rest well satisfied of their salvation, and are pleased to think they enjoy the world as much as they can while they live, and have heaven in reserve when they die. I have met with abundance of these people in my time, and I think it one of the most difficult things imaginable to bring these off from their carnal security, and to convince them that heaven is a state as well as a place — a state of holiness begun in this life, though not perfected till we enter on life eternal — that all sins are so many spiritual diseases, which must be cured by the power of Christ before we can be capable of being happy, even though it were possible for us to be admitted into heaven hereafter. If the young man's father were well apprised of this, he would not venture to pronounce his son a good Christian upon such weak grounds as he seems to do. Yet, notwithstanding the father's indifference, I cannot but conceive good hopes of the son, because he chooses to spend so much of his time with you (for I presume he is not forced to it) ; and if we may not from thence conclude that he is good, I think we may believe he desires to be so ; and if that be the case, give him time. We know that the great work of regeneration is not performed at once, but proceeds by slow and often imperceptible degrees, by reason of the strong opposition which corrupt nature makes against it. ...

" Mr. Clayton and Mr. Hall (afterwards Mrs. Wesley's son-in-law) are much wiser than I am ; yet, with submission to their better judgments, I think that though some mark of visible superiority on your part is convenient to maintain the order of the world, yet severity is not ; since experience may convince us that such kind of behaviour towards a man (children are out of the question) may make him a hypocrite, but will never make him a convert. Never trouble yourself to enquire whether he love you or not. If you can persuade him to love God, he will love you as much as is necessary. If he love not God, his love is of no value. But be that as it may, we must refer all things to God, and be as indifferent as we possibly can be in all matters wherein the great enemy self is concerned.

" If you and your few pious companions have devoted two hours in the evening to religious reading or conference, there can be no dispute but that you ought to spend the whole time in such exercises as it was set apart for. But if your evenings be not strictly devoted, I see no harm in talking sometimes of your secular affairs ; but if, as you say, it does your novice no good, and does yourselves harm, the case is plain — you must not prejudice your own souls to do another good, much less ought you to do so when you can do no good at all. Of this ye are better judges than I can be.

" It was well you paid not for a double letter. I am always afraid of putting you to charge, and that fear prevented me from sending you a long scribble indeed a while ago. For a certain person [probably John Whitelamb] and I had a warm debate on some important points in religion, wherein we could not agree ; afterwards he wrote some propositions which I endeavoured to answer. And this controversy I was minded to have sent you, and to have desired your judgment upon it, but the unreasonable cost of such a letter then hindered me from sending it. Since, I have heard him in two sermons contradict every article he before defended, which makes me hope that upon second thoughts his mind is changed ; and if that is so, what was said in private conference ought not to be remembered, and therefore I would not send you the papers at all.

" I cannot think Mr. Hall does well in refusing an opportunity of doing so much service to religion as he certainly might do if he accepted the living he is about to refuse. Surely there never was more need of orthodox, sober divines in our Lord's vineyard than there is now ; and why a man of his extraordinary piety and love for souls should decline the service in this critical juncture I cannot conceive. But this is none of my business.

" You want no direction from me how to employ your time. I thank God for his inspiring you with a resolution of heing faithful in improving that important talent committed to your trust. It would be of no service to you to know in any particular what I do or what method in examination or anything else I observe. I am superannuated, and do not now live as I would, but as I can. I cannot observe order, or think consistently, as formerly. When I have a lucid interval I aim at improving it ; but alas ! it is but aiming. #»••*.»# " But I am got towards the end of my paper before I am aware. One word more, and I have done. As your course of life is austere, and your diet low, so the passions, as far as they depend on the body, will be low too. Therefore you must not judge of your interior state by your not feeling great fervours of spirit and extraordinary agitations, as plentiful weeping, &c., but rather by firm adherence of your will to God. If upon examination you perceive that you still choose Him for your only good, that your spirit (to use a Scripture phrase) cleaveth stedfastly to Him, follow Mr. Baxter's advice and you will be easy : ' Put your souls, with all your sins and dangers, and all their interests, into the hand of Jesus Christ your Saviour, and trust them wholly with Him by a resolved faith. It is He that hath purchased them, and therefore loveth them. It is He that is the owner of them, by right of redemption ; and it is now become His own interest, even for the success and honour of His redemption, to save them/ " When I begin to write to you, I think I do not know how to make an end. I fully purposed, when I began to write, to be very brief; but I will conclude, though I find I shall be forced to make up such a clumsy letter as I did last time. To-day John Brown, sen., sets forward for London, in order to attend your father home. Pray give my love and blessing to Charles. I hope he is well, though I have never heard from him since he left Epworth. Dear Jacky, God Almighty bless thee !

" SUSANNA WESLEY."

This last journey had been made by the Rector to London in his endeavour to see his " Dissertations on Job " through the press. He printed five hundred copies, more than three hundred of which were subscribed for, and Samuel at Tiverton and John at Oxford did their best to obtain subscriptions for the rest. Meanwhile he and his eldest son both did their utmost to persuade John to take the living of Epworth, so as to keep on the old home ; but John gave twenty-six reasons against it, very good in his own eyes and in those of posterity. Perhaps the one uppermost at the moment was his utter freedom from care while in residence at Oxford. His food was ready at certain hours, and his income at fixed periods, so that he had only to take, count, and carry it home. The family had seen so much of care for meat and drink and the wherewithal for clothing, that this was perfectly natural. Afterwards, however, he did inquire in the necessary quarter whether it was possible that the Lord Chancellor might give him the living of Epworth, and, hearing that it was most unlikely, abandoned the project altogether.

The last time Mrs. Weslev put pen to paper before 12 * her husband's death was on February 14th, 1735, when the household probably consisted only of the Rector, herself, Kezzy, and John Whitelamb. Mary was dead, Patty in London, and John in the study, writing to his father-in-law's dictation, or in some way endeavouring to lighten the burden of old age and infirmity. As the spring came on the Rector became weaker, and at length, feeling sure that the end was near, Mrs. Wesley sent for John and Charles. They came in time for him to enjoy seeing and talking with them ; and as they watched him, they observed how his most cherished aspirations were given up at the approach of death. These were the desire of finishing " Job," of paying his debts, and of seeing his eldest son once more in the flesh. Emilia came over from Gainsborough, where her brothers had enabled her to set up a school for herself; and they took turns in watching and tending him. Mrs. Wesley was thoroughly broken down, and came into the room but rarely, for she invariably fainted and had to be carried away and restored by those whose hands were already so full. Mr. Wesley passed peacefully away at sunset on April 25th, 1735, sensible to the end, drawing his last breath as his son John finished repeating the commendatory prayer for the second time. They went immediately to tell their mother, who was less affected than they feared she would have been, and said that her prayers were heard in his having so easy a death and her being so strengthened to bear it.

Charles wrote all particulars on the 30th, probably two days after the funeral, to his brother Samuel, who was then settled at Tiverton, and added : — " My mother would be exceedingly glad to see you as soon as can be. We have computed the debts, and find they amount to above one hundred pounds, exclusive of Cousin Richardson's. Mrs. Knight, her (Mrs. Wesley's) landlady, seized all her quick stock, valued at above forty pounds, for fifteen pounds my father owed her, on Monday last, the day he was buried. And my brother this afternoon gives a note for the money, in order to get the stock at liberty to sell, for security of which he has the stock made over to him, and will be paid as it can be sold. My father was buried very frugally, yet decently, in the churchyard, according to his own desire.

" It will be highly necessary to bring all accounts of what he owed you, that you may mark all the goods in the house as principal creditor, and thereby secure to my mother time and liberty to sell them to the best advantage.

* •* * * # " If you take London in your way, my mother desires that you will remember that she is a clergyman's widow. Let the Society give her what they please, she must be still in some degree burdensome to you, as she calls it. How do I envy you that glorious burden, and wish I could share it with you ! You must put me in some way of getting a little money, that I may do something in the shipwreck of the family, though it be no more than furnishing a plank."

All that was mortal of Samuel Wesley was laid in Epworth churchyard, and over his remains was placed a grit slab, supported by brickwork, and having cut on its surface an epitaph written by his widow. This was re-cut and repaired in 1819 by Dr. Adam Clarke, and in 1872 the tomb was thoroughly restored by a lady living at Epworth.