till he was at sea. When he did, he found Wes- | passed through the East Riding of Yorkshire, to ley's Hymns, which he immediately threw over-Hull: preaching in every place as on the brink of board.' I cannot believe it. I think Mr. G. had eternity. He also visited Epworth, and various more sense. He knew my brother well. And he knew him to be not only far superior in learning, but in poetry, to Mr. Thomson, and all his theatrical writers put together: none of them can equal him, either in strong nervous sense, or purity and elegance of language. The musical compositions of his sons are not more excellent than the poetical ones of their father."

parts of Lincolnshire; and, upon attaining his eighty-eighth year, has the following reflections:"This day I enter into my eighty-eighth year. For above eighty-six years, I found none of the infirmities of old age; my eyes did not wax dim, neither was my natural strength abated; but last August, I found almost a sudden change: my eyes were so dim that no glasses would help me; my strength The last end of the truly venerable John Wesley likewise now quite forsook me, and probably will was now also approaching. He was on his regular not return in this world; but I feel no pain from pastoral visit to Ireland, when he entered his eighty-head to foot: only it seems, nature is exhausted, seventh year, on which he remarks in his Journal. and, humanly speaking, will sink more and more, "This day I enter on my eighty-seventh year. I till now find I grow old. 1. My sight is decayed, so that I cannot read a small print, unless in a strong light. 2. My strength is decayed, so that I walk much slower than I did some years since. 3. My memory of names, whether of persons or places, is decayed, till I stop a little to recollect them. What I should be afraid of is, if I took thought for the morrow, that my body should weigh down my mind, and create either stubbornness, by the decrease of my understanding, or peevishness, by the increase of bodily infirmities; but thou shalt answer for me, O Lord my God!"

"The weary springs of life stand still at last.'"

This," says Dr. Whitehead, at length was literally the case; the death of Mr. Wesley, like that of his brother Charles, being one of those rare instances in which nature, drooping under the load of years, sinks by a gentle decay. For several years preceding his death, this decay was, perhaps, more visible to others than to himself, particularly by a more frequent disposition to sleep during the day, by a growing defect in memory, a faculty he once possessed in a high degree of perfection, and by a general diminution of the vigor and agility he had so long enjoyed. His labors, however, suffered lit the interruption; and when the summons came, it found him, as he always wished it should, in the harness, still occupied in his Master's work!"

Notwithstanding these infirmities, we find him still acting under the impression-"I must be about my Father's business." Although in comparison of his former rapidity of movement, he crept rather than ran; it was still in the same ceaseless course of service. After holding the Irish conference in Still his Journal records his regular visitation of Dublin, and the English conference at Leeds, in the principal places where societies existed, and exAugust, he returned to London; from thence he hibits the same variety and raciness of remark on set out to Bristol, and proceeded on his usual tour men and books, and other subjects, although writing through the west of England and Cornwall. Not- must, at that time, have become exceedingly diffiwithstanding his regular visits to Cornwall, he ap-cult to him from the failure of his sight. This most pears, from some reason, not to have turned aside to Falmouth, since the time of his preaching there forty years before when he met with so violent a reception. He now paid that place a visit, and remarks "The last time I was here, about forty years ago, I was taken prisoner by an immense mob, gaping and roaring like lions; but how is the tide turned! High and low now lined the streets from one end of the town to the other, out of stark love and kindness, gaping and staring as if the king were going by. In the evening I preached on the smooth top of the hill, at a small distance from the sea, to the largest congregation I have ever seen in Cornwall, except in or near Redruth; and such a time I have not known before, since I returned from Ireland. God moved wonderfully on the hearts of the people, who all seemed to know the day of their visitation."

From Cornwall he returned by way of Bristol and Bath to London. In the early part of the next year, we find him again at Bristol; from whence he proceeded, preaching at several of the intermediate towns, to Birmingham; and from thence through Staffordshire to Madeley, where we find the following affecting entry in his Journal:

At nine I preached to a select congregation on the deep things of God; and in the evening on, 'He is able to save unto the uttermost of all them that come unto God through him.' Friday, 26, I finished my sermon on the Wedding garment;' perhaps the last that I shall write. My eyes are now waxed dim. My natural force is abated; however, while I can, I would fain do a little for God, before I drop into the dust."

The societies in Cheshire, Lancashire, and the North of England, once more, and for the last time, saw the man, to whom, under God, they owed their religious existence. On his return southward, he

interesting record of unparalleled labors "in the gospel" was, for this reason, it is presumed, discontinued, and closed, on Sunday, October 24th, 1790, when he states that he preached twice at Spitalfields church. He continued however, during the au tuinn and winter, to visit various places till February, continually praying, "Lord, let me not live to be useless." The following account of his last days is taken from the memoir prefixed to the edition of his works by the Rev. Joseph Benson, and is there inserted as a proper close to his Journal:

"He preached, as usual, in different places in London and its vicinity, generally meeting the society after preaching in each place, and exhorting them to love as brethren, to fear God, and honor the king, which he wished them to consider as his last advice. He then usually, if not invariably, concluded, with giving out that verse

O that, without a ling'ring groan
I may the welcome word receive;
My body with my charge lay down,

And cease at once to work and live.'
"He proceeded in this way till the usual time of
his leaving London approached, when, with a view
to take his accustomed journey through Ireland or
Scotland, he sent his chaise and horses before him
to Bristol, and took places for himself and his friend
in the Bath coach. But his mind, with all its vigor
could no longer uphold his worn-out and sinking
body. Its powers ceased, although, by slow and al-
most imperceptible degrees, to perform their sun-
dry offices, until, as he often expressed himself,

"The weary wheels of life stood still at last.' "Thursday, February 17, 1791, he preached at Lambeth; but, on his return, seemed much indisposed, and said, he had taken cold. The next day, however, he read and wrote as usual; and in the

'I the chief of sinners am,

But Jesus died for me.'*

"One said, 'is this the present language of your heart, and do you now feel as you did then?" He replied 'yes.' When the same person repeated, 'Bold I approach the eternal throne,

evening, preached at Chelsea, from "The king's | hearty amen showed that he perfectly understood business requires haste," although with some diffi- what was said. About half an hour after, he said, culty, having a high degree of fever upon him. In-'there is no need of more; when at Bristol my deed he was obliged to stop once or twice, inform-words were, ing the peopie that his cold so affected his voice as to prevent his speaking without those necessary pauses. On Saturday he still persevered in his usual employments, though, to those about him, his complaints seemed evidently increasing. He dined at Islington, and at dinner desired a friend to read to him four chapters out of the book of Job, viz. from the fourth to the seventh inclusive. On Sun- And claim the crown, through Christ, my own;' day he rose early, according to custom, but quite and added, ''tis enough. He our precious Immaunfit for any of his usual Sabbath-day's exercises. nuel has purchased, has promised, all;' he earnestAt seven o'clock he was obliged to lie down, and ly replied, He is all! He is all: After this the slept between three and four hours. When he fever was very high, and at times affected his reawoke, he said, "I have not had such a comforta- collection; but even then, though his head was subbie sleep this fortnight past." In the afternoon he ject to a temporary derangement, his heart seemed lay down again and slept an hour or two. After-wholly engaged in his Master's work. In the evenwards two of his own discourses on our Lord's ser- ing he got up again, and, while sitting in his chair, mon on the mount were read to him, and in the even-he said, 'how necessary it is for every one to be ing he came down to supper. on the right foundation!

'I the chief of sinners am,
But Jesus died for me!'

"Monday, the 21st, he seemed much better; and though his friends tried to dissuade him from it, he would keep an engagement, made some time before, to dine at Twickenham. In his way thither he Monday, the 28th, his weakness increased. Hc called on Lady Mary Fitzgerald: the conversation slept most of the day, and spoke but little; yet that was truly profitable, and well became a last visit. little testified how much his whole heart was taken On Tuesday he went on with his usual work, preach-up in the care of the societies, the glory of God, and ed in the evening at the chapel in the City-road, and the promotion of the things pertaining to that kingseemed much better than he had been for some days. dom to which he was hastening. Once he said, in On Wednesday he went to Leatherhead, and a low but distinct manner, there is no way into the preached to a small company on, "Seek ye the holiest, but by the blood of Jesus.' He afterwards Lord while he may be found; call ye upon him inquired what the words were from which he had while he is near." This proved to be his last ser- preached a little before at Hampstead. Being told món: here ended the public labors of this great they were these, 'ye know the grace of our Lord minister of Jesus Christ. On Thursday he paid a Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your visit to Mr. Wolff's family at Balham, where he sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty was cheerful, and seemed nearly as well as usual, might be rich:' he replied, that is the foundation, till Friday, about breakfast time, when he grew very the only foundation; there is no other.' This day heavy. About eleven o'clock he returned home, Dr. Whitehead desired he might be asked, if he extremely ill. His friends were struck with the would have any other physician called in to attend manner of his getting out of the carriage, and still him; but this he absolutely refused. It is remarkmore with his apparent weakness when he went up able that he suffered very little pain, never comstairs and sat down in his chair. He now desired plaining of any during his illness, but once of a pain to be left alone, and not to be interrupted by any one, in his left breast. This was a restless night. Tuesfor half an hour. When that time was expired, day morning he sang two verses of a hymn: then some mulled wine was brought him, of which he lying still, as if to recover strength, he called for drank a little. In a few minutes he threw it up, pen and ink; but when they were brought, he could and said, 'I must lie down.' His friends were now not write. A person said, let me write for you, alarmed, and Dr. Whitehead was immediately sent sir: tell me what you would say. He replied, for. On his entering the room, he said, in a cheer-nothing, but that God is with us.' In the forenoon ful voice, 'doctor, they are more afraid than hurt.' Most of this day he lay in bed, had a quick pulse, with a considerable degree of fever and stupor. And Saturday, the 26th, he continued in much the same state; taking very little either of medicine or nourishment.

“Sunday morning he seemed much better, got up, and took a cup of tea. Sitting in his chair, he looked quite cheerful, and repeated the latter part of the verse, in his brother Charles' Scripture Hymns, on 'Forsake me not when my strength faileth,' viz.

'Till glad I lay this body down,
Thy servant, Lord, attend;
And, O my life of mercy crown
With a triumphant end.'

Soon after, in a most emphatical manner, he said,
'our friend Lazarus sleepeth.' Exerting himself to
converse with some friends, he was soon fatigued,
and obliged to lie down. After lying quiet some
time, he looked up, and said, 'speak to me; I can-
not speak.' On which one of the company said,
'shall we pray with you, sir?' He earnestly re-
plied, yes.' And while they prayed, his whole soul
seemed engaged with God for an answer, and his

he said, 'I will get up.' While they were preparing
his clothes, he broke out in a manner which, consi-
dering his extreme weakness, astonished all present,
in singing,

'I'll praise my Maker while I've breath,
And when my voice is lost in death,

Praise shall employ my nobler powers.

* At the Bristol conference in 1783, Mr. Wesley was could recover. From the nature of his complaint, he taken very ill neither he nor his friends thought he supposed a spasm would seize his stomach, and, probably, occasion sudden death. Under these views of his situation, he said to Mr. Bradford, "I have been reflecting on my past life: I have been wandering up and down, between fifty and sixty years, endeavoring, in my poor way, to do a little good to my fellow-creatures: and now it is probable, that there are but a few steps besalvation? I can see nothing which I have done or tween me and death; and what have I to trust to for suffered, that will bear looking at. I have no other plea than this,

'I the chief of sinners am,
But Jesus died for me.""

The sentiment here expressed, and his reference to it in his last sickness, plainly show how steadily he had persevered in the same views of the gospel.

"He was in the eighty-eighth year of his age, had been sixty-five years in the ministry; and the preceding pages will be a lasting memorial of his uncommon zeal, diligence, and usefulness, in his Master's work, for more than half a century. His death was an admirable close to so laborious and useful a life.

"At the desire of many of his friends his corpse was placed in the new chapel, and remained there the day before his interment. His face during that time had a heavenly smile upon it, and a beau

Here his voice failed. After gasping for breath, hey which was admired by all that saw it.

He was the Founder of the Methodist Societies,
And the chief promoter and Patron
Of the Plan of Itinerant preaching,
Which he extended through GREAT BRITAIN
And IRELAND,

The WEST INDIES and AMERICA,
With unexampled success.
He was born the 17th of June, 1703;
And died the 2d of March, 1791,
In sure and certain hope of Eternal Life,"
Through the Atonement and Mediation of a
Crucified Saviour.

He was Sixty-five Years in the Ministry,
And Fifty-two an Itinerant Preacher.
He lived to see, in these KINGDOMS only,
About three hundred Itinerant,
And one thousand Local Preachers,
Raised up from the midst of his own People;
And eighty thousand Persons

In the Societies under his care.
His Name will be ever had in grateful remembrance
By all who rejoice in the universal Spread
Of the GOSPEL OF CHRIST.

Soli Deo Gloria.

It would be superfluous in closing this account of a man at once so extraordinary and so truly great, for me to attempt a delineation of his character, since this has been done so ably that nothing can easily be added, with good effect. I shall therefore insert Dr. Whitehead's own summary, with notices by others who were personally acquainted with him. Taken together they transmit an interesting and instructive picture of the founder of Methodism,

to future ages.

Dr. Whitehead observes:

"Some persons have affected to insinuate that Mr. Wesley was a man of slender capacity; but certainly with great injustice. His apprehension was clear, his penetration quick, and his judgment discriminative and sound; of which his controversial writings, and his celebrity in the stations he held at Oxford, when young, are sufficient proofs. In governing a large body of preachers and people, of various habits, interests, and principles, with astonishing calmness and regularity for many years, he showed a strong and capacious mind, that could comprehend and combine together a vast variety of circumstances, and direct their influence through the great body he governed. As a scholar, he certainly held a conspicuous rank. He was a critic in the Latin and Greek classics; and was well acquainted with the Hebrew, and with several modern tongues. But the Greek was his favorite language, in which his knowledge was extensive and accurate. At college, he had studied Euclid, Keil, Sir Isaac Newton's Optics, &c.; but he never entered far into the more abstruse parts, or the higher branches, of the mathematics; finding they would fascinate his mind, absorb his attention, and divert him from the pursuit of the more important objects of his own profession.

Natural history was a field in which he walked at every opportunity, and contemplated with infinite pleasure the wisdom, the power, and the goodness of God, in the structure of natural bodies, and in the various instincts and habits of the animal creation. But he was obliged to view these wonderful works of God, in the labors and records of others; his various and continual employments of a higher nature, not permitting him to make experiments and

observations for himself.*

tion. But he did not write for fame; his object was chiefly to instruct and benefit that numerous class of people who have little learning, little money, and but little time to spare for reading. In all his writings he constantly kept these circumstances in view. Content with doing good, he used no trappings merely to please, or to gain applause. The distinguishing character of his style is brevity and perspicuity. He never lost sight of the rule which Horace gives,

'Est brevitate opus, ut currat sententia, neu se Impediat verbis lassas onerantibus aures.'

Concise your diction, let your sense be clear,

Nor with a weight of words fatigue the ear.'

In all his writings his words are well chosen, pure, proper to his subject, and precise in their meaning. His sentences commonly have the attributes of clearness, unity, and strength: and whenever he took time, and gave the necessary attention to his subject, both his manner of treating it, and his style, show the hand of a master.*

"The following is a just character to Mr. Wesley as a preacher: 'His attitude in the pulpit was graceful and easy: his action calm and natural, but clear and manly: his style neat, simple, and yet pleasing and expressive: his voice not loud, perspicuous; and admirably adapted to the capacity of his hearers. His discourses, in point of composition, were extremely different on different occasions. When he gave himself sufficient time for preparation, he succeeded; but when he did not, he frequently failed.' It was indeed manifest to his friends for many years before he died, that his employments were too many, and that he preached too often, to appear with the same advantage at all short: he was seldom more than half an hour in times in the pulpit. His sermons were always delivering a discourse, sometimes not so long. His subjects were judiciously chosen: instructive and interesting to the audience, and well adapted to gain attention and warm the heart.

"The labors of Mr. Wesley in the work of the ministry, for fifty years together, were without precedent. During this period, he travelled about four thousand five hundred miles every year, one year with another, chiefly on horseback. It had been impossible for him to accomplish this almost incredible degree of exertion, without great punctuality and care in the management of his time. He had stated hours for every purpose: and his only relaxation was a change of employment. His rules were like the laws of the Medes and Persians, absolute and irrevocable. He had a peculiar pleasure in reading and study, and every literary man knows how apt this passion is to make him encroach on the time which ought to be employed in other duties: he had a high relish for conversation, especially with pious, learned, and sensible men: but whenever the hour came when he was to set out on a journey, he instantly quitted the company with which he might be engaged, without any apparent reluctance. For fifty-two years, or upwards, he generally delivered two, frequently three or four, sermons in a day. But calculating only two sermons a-day, and allowing, as a writer of his life has done, fifty annually for extraordinary occasions, the whole number of sermons he preached during this period will be forty thousand five hundred and sixty. To these must be added, an infinite number of exhortations to the societies after preaching, and in other occasional meetings at which he assisted.

His treatise on Original Sin; his appeals, and some of his sermons, are instances of finished and careful composition; and are equally to be admired for clearness of method, and the force of many passages which are truly eloquent.

standing this, I lay awake the second night. The third morning I rose at five; but nevertheless, I lay awake the third night. The fourth morning I rose at four, as by the grace of God, I have done ever since: and I lay awake no more. And I do not now lie awake, taking the year round, a quarter of an hour together in a month. By the same experiment, rising earlier and earlier every morning, may any one find how much sleep he wants.'

"In social life, Mr. Wesley was lively and conversational. He had the talent of making himself exceedingly agreeable in company and having been much accustomed to society, the rules of good breeding were habitual to him. The abstraction of a scholar did not appear in his behavior; but he was attentive and polite. He spoke a good deal where he saw it was expected, which was almost always the case wherever he visited. Having seen much of the world in his travels, and read more, "It must, however, be observed, that, for many his mind was stored with an infinite number of years before his death, Mr. Wesley slept more or anecdotes and observations; and the manner in less during the day; and his great readiness to fall which he related them was no inconsiderable addi- asleep at any time when fatigued, was a consideration to the entertainment and instruction they af-ble means of keeping up his strength, and enabling forded. It was impossible to be long in his compa-him to go through so much labor. He never could ny, either in public or private, without partaking of endure to sleep on a soft bed. Even in the latter his placid cheerfulness, which was not abated by part of life, when the infirmities of age pressed upon the infirmities of age, or the approach of death; him, his whole conduct was at the greatest distance but was as conspicuous at fourscore and seven, as from softness or effeminacy. at one and twenty.

an empty pocket. He gave away, not merely a certain part of his income, but all that he had: his own wants provided for, he devoted all the rest to the necessities of others. He entered upon this good work at a very early period. We are told, that, when he had thirty pounds a year, he lived on twenty-eight, and gave away forty shillings. The next year, receiving sixty pounds, he still lived on twenty-eight, and gave away two and thirty. The third year he received ninety pounds, and gave away sixty-two. The fourth year he received one hundred and twenty pounds. Still he lived on twenty-eight, and gave to the poor ninety-two.' In this ratio he proceeded during the rest of his life; and, in the course of fifty years, it has been supposed, he gave away between twenty and thirty thou sand pounds; a great part of which, most other men would have put out at interest, upon good security.

"A writer of Mr. Wesley's life, from whom some A remarkable feature in Mr. Wesley's charac-observations respecting his general character have ter, was his placability. Having an active, pene- already been taken, has farther observed, perhaps trating mind, his temper was naturally quick, and the most charitable man in England, was Mr. Weseven tending to sharpness. The influence of reli-ley. His liberality to the poor, knew no bounds but gion, and the constant habit of patient thinking, had in a great measure, corrected this disposition. In general he preserved an air of sedateness and tranquillity, which formed a striking contrast to the liveliness conspicuous in all his actions. Persecution, abuse, and injury, he bore from strangers, not only without anger, but without any apparent emotion; and what he said of himself was strictly true, that he had a great facility in forgiving injuries. Submission, on the part of the offender, presently disarmed his resentment, and he would treat him with great kindness and cordiality. No man was ever more free from jealousy or suspicion than Mr. Wesley, or laid himself more open to the impositions of others. Though his confidence was often abused, and circumstances sometimes took place which would have made almost any other man suspicious, yet he suspected no one; nor was it easy to convince him that any one had intentionally deceived him; and when facts had demonstrated that this was actually the case, he would allow no more than that it was so in that single instance. If the person acknowledged his fault, he believed him sincere, and would trust him again. If we view this temper of his mind in connection with the circumstance that his most private papers lay open to the inspection of those constantly about him, it will afford as strong a proof as can well be given, of the integrity of his own mind; and that he was at the farthest distance from any intention to deceive, or impose upon others.

"The temperance of Mr. Wesley was extraordinary. When at college he carried this so far, that his friends thought him blameable. But he never imposed upon others the same degree of rigor he exercised upon himself. He only said, I must be the best judge of what is hurtful or beneficial to me. Among other things, he was remarkable for moderation in sleep; and his notion of it cannot be better explained, than in his own words. 'Healthy men,' says he, require above six hours' sleep; healthy women, a little above seven, in four and twenty. If any one desires to know exactly what quantity of sleep his own constitution requires, he may very easily make the experiment, which I made about sixty years ago. I then waked every night about twelve or one, and lay awake for some time. I readily concluded, that this arose from my being in bed longer than nature required. To be satisfied, I procured an alarum, which waked me the next morning at seven (nearly an hour earlier than I rose the day before,) yet I lay awake again at night. The second morning I rose at six; but notwith

"In the distribution of his money, Mr. Wesley was as disinterested as he was charitable. He had no regard to family connections, nor even to the wants of the preachers who labored with him, in preference to strangers. He knew that these had some friends; and he thought that the poor destitute stranger might have none, and therefore had the first claim on his liberality. When a trifling legacy has been paid him, he has been known to dispose of it in some charitable way before he slept, that it might not remain his own property for one night. He often declared that his own hands should be his executors; and though he gained all he could by his publications, and saved all he could, not wasting so much as a sheet of paper; yet, by giving all he could, he was preserved from laying up treasures upon earth. He had said in print, that, if he died worth more than ten pounds, independent of his books, and the arrears of his fellowship, which he then held, he would give the world leave to call him 'a thief and a robber.' This declaration, made in the integrity of his heart, and the height of his zeal, laid him under some inconveniences afterwards, from circumstances which he could not at that time foresee. Yet in this, as all his friends expected, he literally kept his word, as far as human foresight could reach. His chaise and horses, his clothes, and a few trifles of that kind, were all, his books excepted, that he left at his death. Whatever might be the value of his books, this altered not the case, as they were placed in the hands of trustees, and

Money chiefly arising from the constant and large sale of his writings, and the works he abridged.