St. Dunstan's Church, in Fleet Street; and Benjamin Motte, Aldersgate Street." In truth, Dunton did not think it would improve its author's reputation, and denounced it as "intolerably dull," an opinion shared by Pope. The present generation would certainly endorse their views; yet it went through a second edition in 1697, and was reprinted in a revised and abridged form a century later. The most interesting passage, and the only one it is desirable to quote here, is Mr. Wesley's sweet and appreciative portrait of the wife to whom he had then been married about four years : "She graced my humble roof and blest my life, Blest me by a far greater name than wife; Yet still I bore an undisputed sway, Nor was 't her task, but pleasure to obey: Scarce thought, much less could act, what I denied. Or when pity called, or charity." In 1694 the Marquis of Normanby did his best both with the Queen and Archbishop Tillotson to recommend Mr. Wesley for the Bishopric of an Irish diocese, two of which were then vacant. Considering how much Irish blood ran in the veins of the Wesleys, and also that their connections were people of position in the Emerald Isle, he would probably have been well placed in such a see, and the difference it would have made to his family would have been incalculable. Possibly neither Queen Mary nor the Archbishop knew of these circumstances, but simply thought that a clergyman at thirty-two years of age was too young, and the pastor of two hundred and fifty country people too inexperienced, for such a post. The Queen, however, did not forget him, and it is said that it was in consequence of a wish expressed shortly before her last illness that the living of Epworth was offered to him. It was just before leaving South Ormsby that Mrs. Wesley had the grief of losing her father, Dr. Annesley, who died, after five months' illness, on the last day of 1696. The news, of course, did not travel very quickly, nor was it unexpected; but it was none the less keenly felt. She was then twenty-seven, and expecting her eighth child, only one of her family having been seen by its grandfather. She was a strong believer in communion between the spirits of the departed and those dear to them who are still in the body, and throughout the remainder of her life loved to think that her father was far nearer to her than while she was in Lincolnshire and he in the flesh in Spital Yard. CHAPTER IV. LATER MARRIED LIFE. It was early in 1697 that the Wesleys removed to Epworth, on the opposite side of the county of Lincoln, which, though only a small market town with about 2,000 inhabitants, was the principal place in the Isle of Axholme, a district ten miles long by four broad, enclosed by the rivers Trent, Don, and Idle. The church is an ancient structure, dedicated to St. Andrew, and the rectory was at that time a palace in comparison with the "mud hut" at South Ormsby. It was not a brick or stone-built house, but a threestoried and five-gabled timber and plaster building, thatched with straw, and containing "a kitchinge, a hall, a parlour, a buttery, and three large upper rooms and some others for common use; and, also, a little garden;" together with a large barn, a dove-cote, and a hemp kiln. The children had ample space now to roam about in as well as for ease and comfort indoors; but there were fees to be paid on entrance into the living, furniture to be bought for the larger house, and, as the new rector determined to farm his own glebe, implements and cattle for that worse than amateur farming, for which a bookish man brought up in town was eminently unfit. Mr. Wesley, who was already in debt, borrowed a hundred pounds from the Bishop of Salisbury, which proving insufficient, before he was fairly installed he had to borrow another fifty pounds. The interest on and repayment of these sums hung like a millstone round his neck for the remainder of his life. The family could have been only just settled at Epworth when Mehetabel, the fifth daughter, was born, and just about the same time Mrs. Wesley heard of the death of her sweet elder sister Elizabeth, the wife of John Dunton. The Duntons had continued lovers up to the day of the wife's death, and the bereaved husband declared that during the fifteen years of their union not an angry look had passed between them. She had been his book and cash keeper, and always took an active part in his business, and, in spite of cares and worries, he never once went home and found her out of temper. She nursed him devotedly in sickness, and when there seemed some possibility of their migrating to America and settling there in business, acquiesced in the voyage, cheerfully assuring her "most endeared heart" that she would joyfully go over to him, adding, "I do assure you, my dear, yourself alone is all the riches I desire; and if ever I am so happy as to have your company again, I will travel to the farthest part of the world rather than part with you any more. I had rather have your company with bread and water than enjoy without you the riches of both Indies." In another she says, "Prithee, my dear, show thy love for me by taking care of thyself. Get thee warm clothes, woollen waistcoats, and buy a cloak. Be cheerful; want for nothing; doubt not that God will provide for us.” She seems to have been proverbials in her own generation, for the natural goodness and amiability which unfortunately do not always go hand in hand with the sincerest piety. Mrs. Wesley had been very happy in the brotherly friendship which existed between her own husband and her sister and Mr. Dunton, and felt the bereavement deeply. Mr. Wesley wrote the epitaph which was engraved on Mrs. Dunton's tomb in Bunhill Fields, and, though it was the fashion of the day to attribute every virtue under the sun to those who had epitaphs written for them, it was acknowledged by general consent that every word of it was true "Sacred urn! with whom we trust This dear pile of buried dust, Or, if more he would comprise, Here interred Eliza lies. The two sisters were considered very much alike both in person and character, so that anything recorded of |