of our lives, and arrive by Christ's mercies to everlasting happiness. I am, dear Mother, Your dutiful and affectionate Son, This long letter must have been one of the last Samuel Wesley ever wrote. He had not been very well, but considered himself" on the mending hand." On the 5th of November he went to bed in fairly good health, but was taken ill at three o'clock in the morning, and died after four hours' suffering, at the age of forty-nine. Before taking leave of Samuel Wesley, it is worth while to mention that St. George's Hospital, nearly opposite Apsley House, owes its existence to him. It was originally an infirmary, the first in Westminster, and was founded in 1719, mainly through his untiring exertions. Hyde Park Corner thus bears witness to the triumphs of two kinsmen, one of whom was an adept in the arts of war, and the other in those of peace. CHAPTER XV. LAST YEARS. THE news of Samuel Wesley's death was communicated by a friend and neighbor to Charles, who was then at Bristol, and probably also to John at the Foundry. The latter had often been rallied by his relatives on his reticence as to family matters, and it appears that he actually started off to meet Charles and go with him to Tiverton to see their widowed sister-in-law, without communicating the sad news to his mother, who was ill in her own room. Very likely he had not the heart to do so, for all the family knew how dearly she loved her first-born, and what a pattern son he had been to her. Possibly he commissioned one of his sisters to tell her gently. How she bore it she herself told Charles: NOVEMBER 29, 1739. DEAR CHARLES, - Upon the first hearing of your brother's death, I did immediately acquiesce in the will of God, without the least reluctance. Only I marvelled that Jacky did not inform me of it before he left, since he knew thereof; but he was unacquainted with the manner of God's dealing with me in extraordinary cases, which, indeed, is no wonder; for though I have so often experienced His infinite mercy and power in my support, and inward calmness of spirit when the trial would otherwise have been too strong for me, yet His ways of working are to myself incomprehensible and ineffable. Your brother was exceeding dear to me in this life, and perhaps I have erred in loving him too well. I once thought it impossible to bear his loss, but none know what they can bear till they are tried. As your good old grandfather used to say, "That is an affliction that God makes an affliction." Surely the manifestation of His presence and favor is more than an adequate support under any suffering whatever. If He withhold His consolations, and hide His face from us, the least suffering is intolerable. But, blessed and adored be His holy name, it hath not been so with me, though I am infinitely unworthy of the least of all His mercies. I rejoice in having a comfortable hope of my dear son's salvation. He is now at rest, and would not return to earth to gain the world. Why then should I mourn? He hath reached the haven before me, but I shall soon follow him. He must not return to me, but I shall go to him, never to part more. I thank you for your care of my temporal affairs. It was natural to think that I should be troubled for my dear son's death on that account, because so considerable a part of my support was cut off. But to say the truth, I have never had one anxious thought of such matters; for it came immediately into my mind that God by my child's loss had called me to a firmer dependence on Himself; that though my son was good, he was not my God; and that now our Heavenly Father seemed to have taken my cause more immediately into His own hand; and therefore, even against hope, I believed in hope that I should never suffer more.. I cannot write much, being but weak. I have not been down-stairs above ten weeks, though better than I was lately. Pray give my kind love and blessing to my daughter and Philly. I pray God to support and provide for her. SUSANNA WESLEY. About a month afterwards she wrote again, probably in reply to a letter from Charles, whose headquarters were at Bristol: FOUNDRY, December 27, 1739. DEAR CHARLES, - You cannot more desire to see me than I do to see you. Your brother, whom I shall henceforth call Son Wesley, since my dear Sam is gone home, has just been with me and much revived my spirits. Indeed, I have often found that he never speaks in my hearing without my receiving some spiritual benefit. But his visits are seldom and short, for which I never blame him, because I know he is well employed, and, blessed be God, hath great success in his ministry. But, my dear Charles, still I want either him or you; for, indeed, in the most literal sense, I am become a little child and want continual succor. "As iron sharpeneth iron, so doth the countenance of a man his friend." I feel much comfort and support from religious conversation when I can obtain it. Formerly I rejoiced in the absence of company, and found the less I had of creature comforts the more I had from God. But, alas! I am fallen from that spiritual converse I once enjoyed. And why is it so? Because I want faith. God is an omnipresent unchangeable God, in whom is no variableness neither shadow of turning; the fault is in myself, and I attribute all mistakes in judgment and all errors in practice to want of faith in the blessed Jesus. Oh, my dear, when I consider the dignity of His person, the perfection of His purity, the greatness of His sufferings, but above all His boundless love, I am astonished and utterly confounded; I am lost in thought. I fall into nothing before Him! Oh, how inexcusable is that person who has knowledge of these things, and yet remains poor and low in faith and love. I speak as one guilty in this matter. I have been prevented from finishing my letter. I complained I had none to converse with me on spiritual things, but for these several days I have had the conversation of many good Christians, who have refreshed in some measure my fainting spirits; and though they hindered my writing, yet it was a pleasing and I hope not an unprofitable interruption they gave me. I hope we shall shortly speak face to face; and I shall then, if God permit, impart |