Chapter IV

1. From the Rev. Samuel Wesley to his son John, at Christ Church, Oxford.

Wroote, January 5, 1725.

Dear Son,--Your brother will receive 5 pounds for you next
Saturday, if Mr. S. is paid the 10 pounds he lent you; if not, I
must go to H. But I promise you I shan't forget that you are my
son, if you do not that I am:

Your affectionate father,
Samuel Wesley.

2. From the same to the same.

Wroote, January 26, 1725.

Dear Son,--I am so well pleased with your decent behaviour, or
at least with your letters, that I hope I shall not have
occasion to remember any more some things that are past; and
since you have now for some time bit upon the bridle, I'll take
care hereafter to put a little honey upon it as oft as I am
able. But then it shall be of my own _mero motu_, as the last
5 pound was; for I will bear no rivals in my kingdom.

I did not forget you with Dr. Morley, but have moved that way as
much as possible; though I must confess, hitherto, with no great
prospect or hopes of success. As for what you mention of
entering into Holy Orders, it is indeed a great work; and I am
pleased to find you think it so, as well as that you do not
admire a callow clergyman any more than I do.

And now the providence of God (I hope it was) has engaged me in
such a work wherein you may be very assistant to me, I trust
promote His glory and at the same time notably forward your own
studies; for I have some time since designed an edition of the
Holy Bible, in octavo, in the Hebrew, Chaldee, Septuagint and
Vulgar Latin, and have made some progress in it: the whole
scheme whereof I have not time at present to give you, of which
scarce any soul yet knows except your brother Sam.

What I desire of you in this article is, firstly, that you would
immediately fall to work, read diligently the Hebrew text in the
Polyglot, and collate it exactly with the Vulgar Latin, which is
in the second column, writing down all (even the least)
variations or differences between them. To these I would have
you add the Samaritan text in the last column but one, which is
the very same with the Hebrew, except in some very few places,
only differing in the Samaritan character (I think the true old
Hebrew), the alphabet whereof you may learn in a day's time,
either from the Prolegomena in Walton's Polyglot, or from his
grammar. In a twelvemonth's time, sticking close to it in the
forenoons, you will get twice through the Pentateuch; for I have
done it four times the last year, and am going over it the
fifth, collating the Hebrew and two Greek, the Alexandrian and
the Vatican, with what I can get of Symmachus and Theodotian,
etc. Nor shall you lose your reward for it, either in this or
the other world.

In the afternoon read what you will, and be sure to walk an
hour, if fair, in the fields. Get Thirlby's Chrysostom
_De Sacerdotio_; master it--digest it. I like your verses on
Psalm lxxxv., and would not have you bury your talent. All are
well and send duties.

Work and write while you can. You see Time has shaken me by the
hand, and Death is but a little behind him. My eyes and heart
are now almost all I have left; and bless God for them. I am
not for your going over-hastily into Orders. When I am for your
taking them, you shall know it.

Your affectionate father,
Sam. Wesley.

3. From Mrs. Wesley to her son John.

February 25th, 1725.

Dear Jackey,--I was much pleased with your letter to your father
about taking Orders, and like the proposal well; but it is an
unhappiness almost peculiar to our family that your father and I
seldom think alike. I approve the disposition of your mind and
think the sooner you are a deacon the better, because it may be
an inducement to greater application in the study of practical
divinity, which I humbly conceive is the best study for
candidates for Orders. Mr. Wesley differs from me, and would
engage you (I believe) in critical learning; which, though
accidentally of use, is in no wise preferable to the other.
I dare advise nothing: God Almighty direct and bless you!
I long to see you. We hear nothing of Hetty, which gives us
some uneasiness. We have all writ, but can get no answer.
I wish all be well. Adieu.

Susanna Wesley.

4. From the Rev. Samuel Wesley to his son John.

Wroote, March 13, 1724-5.

Dear Son,--I have both yours, and have changed my mind since my
last. I now incline to your going this summer into Orders.
But in the first place, if you love yourself or me, pray
heartily. I will struggle hard but I will get money for your
Orders, and something more. Mr. Downes has spoken to Mr. Morley
about you, who says he will inquire of your character.

"Trust in the Lord, and do good, and verily thou shalt be fed."
This, with blessing, from your loving father,

Samuel Wesley.

5. From Emilia Wesley to her brother John.

Wroote, April 7th, 1725.

Dear Brother,--Yours of March 7th I received, and thank you for
your care in despatching so speedily the business I desired you
to do. It is the last of that kind I shall trouble you with.
No more shall I write or receive letters to and from that
person. But lest you should run into a mistake and think we
have quarrelled, I assure you we are perfect friends; we think,
wish and judge alike, but what avails it? We are both
miserable. He has not differed with my mother, but she loves
him not, because she esteems him the unlucky cause of a deep
melancholy in a beloved child. For his own sake it is that I
cease writing, because it is now his interest to forget me.

Whether you will be engaged before thirty or not, I cannot
determine; but if my advice be worth listening to, never engage
your affections before your worldly affairs are in such a
position that you may marry very soon. The contrary practice
has proved very pernicious in our family; and were I to live my
time over again, and had the same experience as I have now, were
it for the best man in England, I would not wait one year.
I know you are a young man, encompassed with difficulties, that
has passed through many hardships already, and probably must
pass through many more before you are easy in the world; but,
believe me, if ever you come to suffer the torment of a hopeless
love, all other afflictions will seem small in comparison of it.
And that you may not think I speak at random, take some account
of my past life, more than ever I spoke to anyone.

After the fire, when I was seventeen years old, I was left alone
with my mother, and lived easy for one year, having most
necessaries, though few diversions, and never going abroad.
Yet after working all day I read some pleasant book at night,
and was contented enough; but after we were gotten into our
house, and all the family were settled, in about a year's time I
began to find out that we were ruined. Then came on London
journeys, Convocations of blessed memory, that for seven years
my father was at London, and we at home in intolerable want and
affliction. Then I learnt what it was to seek money for bread,
seldom having any without such hardships in getting it that much
abated the pleasure of it. Thus we went on, growing worse and
worse; all us children in scandalous want of necessaries for
years together; vast income, but no comfort or credit with it.
Then I went to London with design to get into some service,
failed of that, and grew acquainted with Leybourne. Ever after
that I lived in close correspondence with him. When anything
grieved me, he was my comforter; and what though our affairs
grew no better, yet I was tolerably easy, thinking his love
sufficient recompense for the absence of all other worldly
comforts. Then ill fate, in the shape of a near relation, laid
the groundwork of my misery, and--joined with my mother's
command and my own indiscretion-broke the correspondence between
him and I [_sic_].

That dismal winter I shall ever remember; my mother was sick,
confined even to her bed, my father in danger of arrests every
day. I had a large family to keep, and a small sum to keep it
on; and yet in all this care the loss of Leybourne was heaviest.
For nearly half a year I never slept half a night, and now,
provoked at all my relations, resolved never to marry.
Wishing to be out of their sight, I began first to think of
going into the world. A vacancy happening in Lincoln boarding
school, I went thither; and though I had never so much as seen
one before, I fell readily into that way of life; and I was so
pleased to see myself in good clothes, with money in my pocket,
and respected in a strange manner by everyone, that I seemed
gotten into another world.

Here I lived five years and should have done longer, but the
school broke up; and my father having got Wroote living, my
mother was earnest for my return. I was told what pleasant
company was at Bawtry, Doncaster, etc., and that this addition
to my father, with God's ordinary blessing, would make him a
rich man in a few years. I came home again, in an evil hour for
me. I was well clothed, and, while I wanted nothing, was easy
enough. But this winter, when my own necessaries began to decay
and my money was most of it spent, I found what a condition I
was in--every trifling want was either not supplied, or I had
more trouble to procure it than it was worth.

I know not when we have had so good a year, both at Wroote and
Epworth, as this year; but instead of saving anything to clothe
my sister or myself, we are just where we were. A noble crop
has almost all gone, beside Epworth living, to pay some part of
those infinite debts my father has run into, which are so many
(as I have lately found out) that were he to save 50 pounds a
year he would not be clear in the world this seven years.
One thing I warn you of: let not my giving you this account be
any hindrance to your affairs. If you want assistance in any
case, my father is as able to give it now as any time these last
ten years; nor shall we be ever the poorer for it. We enjoy
many comforts. We have plenty of good meat and drink, fuel,
etc.; have no duns, nor any of that tormenting care to provide
bread which we had at Epworth. In short, could I lay aside all
thoughts of the future, and be content with three things, money,
liberty, and clothes, I might live very comfortably. While my
mother lives I am inclined to stay with her; she is so very good
to me, and has so little comfort in the world beside, that I
think it barbarous to abandon her. As soon as she is in heaven,
or perhaps sooner if I am quite tired out, I have fully fixed on
a state of life; a way indeed that my parents may disapprove,
but that I do not regard. And now:

"Let Emma's hapless case be falsely told
By the rash young, or the ill-natured old."

You, that know my hard fortune, I hope will never hastily
condemn me for anything I shall be driven to do by stress of
fortune that is not directly sinful. As for Hetty, we have
heard nothing of her these three months past. Mr. Grantham, I
hear, has behaved himself very honourably towards her, _but
there are more gentlemen besides him in the world_.

I have quite tired you now. Pray be faithful to me. Let me
have one relation I can trust: never give any hint to anyone of
aught I write to you: and continue to love,

Your unhappy but affectionate sister,
Emilia Wesley.

6. From the Rev. Samuel Wesley to his son John.

Wroote, May 10, 1725.

Dear Son,--Your brother Samuel, with his wife and child, are
here. I did what I could that you might have been in Orders
this Trinity; but I doubt your brother's journey hither has, for
the present, disconcerted our plans, though you will have more
time to prepare yourself for Ordination, which I pray God you
may, as I am your loving father,

Samuel Wesley.

7. From Mrs. Wesley to her son John.

Wroote, June 8th, 1725.

Dear Son,--I have Kempis by me; but have not read him lately.
I cannot recollect the passages you mention; but believing you
do him justice, I do positively aver that he is extremely wrong
in that impious, I was about to say blasphemous, suggestion that
God, by an irreversible decree, has determined any man to be
miserable, even in this world. His intentions, as Himself, are
holy, just and good; and all the miseries incident to men here
or thereafter spring from themselves.

Your brother has brought us a heavy reckoning for you and
Charles. God be merciful to us all! Dear Jack, I earnestly
beseech Almighty God to bless you. Adieu.

Susanna Wesley.

8. From the Rev. Samuel Wesley to his son John.

Bawtry, September 1st, 1725.

Dear Son,--I came hither to-day because I cannot be at rest till
I make you easier. I could not possibly manufacture any money
for you here sooner than next Saturday. On Monday I design to
wait on Dr. Morley, and will try to prevail with your brother to
return you 8 pounds with interest. I will assist you in the
charges for Ordination, though I am just now struggling for
life. This 8 pounds you may depend on the next week, or the
week after.

S. Wesley.

9. From the same to the same.

Gainsborough, Sept. 7th, 1725.

Dear Son John,--With much ado, you see I am for once as good as
my word. Carry Dr. Morley's note to the bursar. I hope to send
you more, and, I believe, by the same hand. God fit you for
your great work. Fast--watch--pray--endure--be happy; towards
which you shall never want the ardent prayers of your
affectionate father,

S. Wesley.

On Sunday, September 19th, 1725, John Wesley, being twenty-two years old, was ordained deacon by Dr. John Potter, Bishop of Oxford, in Christ Church Cathedral.