Deptford, a kind of funeral sermon for Mr. Whitefield.
Fes.1771
WESLEY'S WIFE AND WILL
congregation in the evening as well as in the morning.
The same, likewise, we observed at Canterbury ; so that I hope to see good days here also.
Fri. 7.—I preached in Feversham at nine, and in the evening at Chatham.
So we go through water and fire!
And all is well, so we are doing or suffering the will of our Lord!
Wesley's Wife Leaves Him Wed. 19.—About noon I preached at Dorking.
The hearers were many, and seemed all attention.
About an hundred attended at Ryegate in the evening, and between twenty and thirty in the morning; dull indeed as stones.
1771. Wed. Jan. 2.—I preached in the evening, at Deptford, a kind of funeral sermon for Mr. Whitefield.
In every place I wish to show all possible respect to the memory of that great and good man.
Wed. 23.—For what cause I know not to this day, [Wesley's wife] set out for Newcastle, purposing
"never to return."
Non eam reliqui: non dimisi: non revocabo—[I did not desert her: I did not send her away: I will not recall her].
Fri. 25.—I revised and transcribed my will, declaring as simply, as plainly, and as briefly as I could, nothing more nor nothing else, but "what I would have done with the worldly goods which I leave behind me."
Thur. Feb. 14.—I went through both the upper and lower rooms of the London workhouse.
It contains about an hundred children, who are in as good order as any private family.
And the whole house is as clean, from top to bottom, as any gentleman's needs be.
And why is not every workhouse in London, yea, through the kingdom, in the same order?
Purely for want
WESLEY'S JOURNAL
May 1771 either of sense, or of honesty and activity, in them that superintend it.
Mon. 25.—I showed a friend, coming out of the country, the tombs in Westminster Abbey.
The two with which I still think none of the others worthy to be compared are that of Mrs. Nightingale, and that of the Admiral rising out of his tomb at the resurrection.
But the vile flattery inscribed on many of them reminded me of that just reflection :
If on the sculptured marble you rely, Pity that worth like his should ever die.
If credit to the real life you give, Pity a wretch like him should ever live!
The Earl of Desmond's Castle Wed. May 22 (Ireland).—After preaching at Balligarane, I rode to Ashkayton.
There are no ruins, I believe, in the kingdom of Ireland, to be compared to these.
The old Earl of Desmond's Castle is very large, and has been exceeding strong.
Not far from this, and formerly communicating with it by a gallery, is his great hall, or banqueting room.
The walls are still firm and entire; and these with the fine carvings of the window-frames (all of polished marble), give some idea of what it was once.
Its last master lived like a prince for many years, and rebelled over and over against Queen Elizabeth.
After his last rebellion, his army being totally routed, he fled into the woods with two or three hundred men.
But the pursuit was so hot, that these were soon scattered from him, and he crept alone into a small cabin.
He was sitting there, when a soldier came in and struck him.
He rose and said, "I am the Earl of Desmond."
The wretch, rejoicing that he had found so great a prize, cut off his head at once.
Queen Elizabeth and King
Ocr.1771
WESLEY AT SIXTY-EIGHT
James allowed a pension to his relict for many gears.
I have seen a striking picture of her, in her widow's weeds, said to be taken when she was an hundred and forty years old.
At a small distance from the castle stands the old abbey, the finest ruin of the kind in the kingdom.
Not only the walls of the church, and many of the apartments, but the whole cloisters are entire.
They are built of black marble exquisitely polished, and vaulted over with the same.
So that they are as firm now as when they were built, perhaps seven or eight hundred years ago; and, if not purposely destroyed (as most of the ancient buildings in Ireland have been), may last these thousand years.
But add these to the years they have stood already, and what is it to eternity?
A moment!
Mon. June 24.—This day I entered the sixty-ninth year of my age.
I am still a wonder to myself.
My voice and strength are the same as at nine-and-twenty This also hath God wrought.
Wesley in Winchester Cathedral Tues. Oct. 1.—I went on to Salisbury.
Wednesday, 2.
I preached at Whitchurch; Thursday, 3, at Winchester.
I now found time to take a view of the cathedral.
Here the sight of that bad Cardinal's tomb, whom the sculptor has placed in a posture of prayer, brought to my mind those fine lines of Shakespeare, which he put into the mouth of King Henry the Sixth:
Lord Cardinal, If thou hast any hope of Heaven's grace, Give us asign.
He dies, and makes no sign.
On Thursday and Friday evening I preached at Portsmouth Common.
Saturday, 5. I set out at two.
About ten some of our London friends met me at
WESLEY'S JOURNAL
Nov. 1771
Cobham, with whom I took a walk in the neighbouring gardens, inexpressibly pleasant, through the variety of hills and dales, and the admirable contrivance of the whole.
And now, after spending his life in bringing it to perfection, the grey-headed owner advertises it to be sold!
Is there anything under the sun that can satisfy a spirit made for God?
Wed. 16.—I preached at South-Lye.
Here it was that I preached my first sermon, six-and-forty years ago.
One man was in my present audience who heard it.
Most of the rest are gone to their long home.
Wed. 30.—I walked over to Winchelsea from Rye, said to have been once a large city, with abundance of trade and of inhabitants, the sea washing the foot of the hill on whichit stands.
The situation is exceeding bold, the hill being high and steep on all sides.
But the town is shrunk almost into nothing, and the seven churches into half an one.
I preached at eleven in the new square, to a considerable number of serious people; and at Rye in the evening, where were many that are " not far from the kingdom of God."
Tues. Nov. 5.—In our way to Bury we called at Felsham, near which is the seat of the late Mr. Reynolds.
The house is, I think, the best contrived and the most beautiful I ever saw.
It has four fronts, and five rooms on a floor, elegantly, though not sumptuously, furnished.
At a small distance stands a delightful grove.
On every side of this, the poor, rich man, who had no hope beyond the grave, placed seats, to enjoy life as long as he could.
But being resolved none of his family should be "put into the ground," he built a structure in the midst of the grove, vaulted above and beneath, with niches for coffins, strong enough to stand for ages.
In one of these he had soon the satisfaction of laying the
Dec.1771
AN UNCOMMON HOUSE
remains of his only child; and, two years after, those ot his wife.
After two years more, in the year 1750, having eat, and drank, and forgotten God, for eightyfour years, he went himself to give an account of his stewardship.
Wesley at Windsor Park Fri. 29.—We viewed the improvements of that active and useful man, the late Duke of Cumberland.
The most remarkable work is the triangular tower which he built on the edge of Windsor Park.
It is surrounded with shrubberies and woods, having some straight, some serpentine, walks in them, and commands a beautiful prospect all three ways: a very extensive one to the south-west.
In the lower part is an alcove, which must be extremely pleasant in a summer evening.
There is a little circular projection at each corner, one of which is filled by a geometrical staircase: the other two contain little apartments, one of which is astudy.
I was agreeably surprised to find many of the books not only religious, but admirably well chosen.
Perhaps the great man spent many hours here, with only him that seeth in secret; and who can say how deep that change went, which was so discernible in the latter part of his life ?
Hence we went to Mr. Bateman's house, the oddest I ever saw with myeyes.
Everything breathes antiquity ; scarce a bedstead is to be seen that is not an hundred and fifty years old; and everything is quite out of the common way: he scorns to have anything like his neighbours.
For six hours, I suppose, these elegant oddities would much delight a curious man; but after six months they would probably give him no more pleasure than a collection of feathers, Mon. Dec. 16.—I rode to Dorking, where were many
WESLEY'S JOURNAL
Dec. 1771 people; but none were cut to the heart.
Tuesday, 17.
I went on to Ryegate-place.
In King Henry the Fourth's time, this was an eminent monastery.
At the dissolution of monasteries, it fell into the hands of the great spoiler, Henry the Eighth.
Queen Elizabeth, pleased with the situation, chose it for one of her palaces.
The gentleman who possesses it now has entirely changed the form of it; pulling down whole piles of ancient building, and greatly altering what remains.
Yet, after all that is taken away, it still looks more like a palace than a private house.
The staircase is of the same model with that at Hampton-court: one would scarce know which is the original.
The chimneypiece in the hall is probably one of the most curious pieces of wood-work now in the kingdom.
But how long?
How many of its once bustling inhabitants are already under the earth!
And how little a time will it be before the house itself, yea, the earth shall be burned up!
Sat. 21.—I met an old friend, James Hutton, whom I had not seen for five-and-twenty years.
I felt this made no difference; my heart was quite open; his seemed to be the same; and we conversed just as we did in 1738, when we met in Fetter Lane.
Monday, 23, and so all the following days, when I was not particularly engaged, I spent an hour in the morning with our preachers, as I used to do with my pupils at Oxford.
Wednesday, 25. I preached early at the Foundery; morning and afternoon, at the chapel.
In returning thence at night, a coach ran full against my chaise, and broke one of the shafts and the traces in pieces.
I was thankful that this was all; that neither man nor beast received the least hurt.
Mon. 30.—At my brother's request, I sat again for