holy and upright woman, to whose care they were confided, will only be fully disclosed "in that day." Justly was she esteemed and beloved; and, though some persons may regard the office which she sustained as an humble one, deservedly has her name been immortalized in the Wesley poetry. Thus in the patriarchal records we read, "But Deborah, Rebekah's nurse, died; and she was buried beneath Bethel, under an oak: and the name of it was called Allon-bachuth;" that is, "the oak of weeping." (Gen. xxxv. 8.) Spiritual and moral worth, in whomsoever found, "shall be had in everlasting remembrance:" and "a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised."

From hence the fight of faith began,
From hence in Jesu's steps she ran,
Nor e'er disgraced the cause;
Meek follower of the patient Lamb,
She prized his honourable shame,
And gloried in his cross.

By all the rage of fiends and men,
(The vehement stream, the beating rain,)
Assail'd on every side;

Nor men nor fiends her firmness shock,
The house was built upon a rock,
And every storm defied.

What tongue her hidden worth can tell,
Her active faith, and fervent zeal,
And works of righteousness?

Her thirst and reverence for the word,
Her love to those who loved her Lord,
Or but desired his grace?

She loved them both in word and deed,
O'erjoy'd a hungry Christ to feed,
To visit Him in pain;

Him in his members she relieved,
And freely, as she first received,
Gave Him her all again.

How did her generous bounty deal
The widow's scanty oil and meal,
A treasure for the poor!

A treasure spent without decrease,
As miracle revived to bless
The consecrated store.

But who can paint the strong desire,
The holy, heaven-enkindled fire,
That glow'd within her breast?

To' ensure the bliss of friends and foes,
To save the precious souls of those
She ever loved the best?

Witness, ye children of her prayers,
Ye objects of her tenderest cares,
Into her bosom given;

Did not her yearning bowels move,
With more than a maternal love,

To train you up for heaven?

The sight her ravish'd spirit fires,
Her panting, dying breast inspires,

And fills her mouth with praise;
She owns the glorious earnest given;
The hidden life breaks out, and heaven
Resplendent in her face.

Fill'd up with love and life divine,
The house of clay, the earthly shrine
Dissolves, and sinks to dust;
Without a groan the body dies,
Her spirit mounts above the skies,
And mingles with the just.

With mix'd concern her flight we view,
With joy the' ascending pomp pursue,
Yet for our loss distress'd:

Our bosom-friend from earth is flown,
A mother of our Israel gone

To her eternal rest.

Yet still to us she speaks, though dead,
She bids us in her footsteps tread,

As in her Saviour's she;

And O that we, like her, may prove

Our faith unfeign'd, and genuine love,
And meek humility.

Who live like her, her death shall die;
Come, Lord, our hearts to certify

That we the prize shall gain;

Soon as we lay the body down,

That we shall wear the' immortal crown,
And in thy glory reign.

Under the date of Jan. 14th, 1755, Mr. Whitefield addressed a letter from Virginia, to his friend Mr. Charles Wesley, breathing his usual spirit of zeal and kindness. He says, "My dear Friend,-Some time ago, when at New-York, I heard you was sick. This, I suppose, hath been the occasion of my not hearing from you. Well! blessed be God, sick or well, we can go on our way to heaven. This is begun on earth. If it was not so, what should I do in this pilgrim way? I suppose my circuit upon the continent already hath been two thousand miles; and a journey of six hundred more before I reach Bethesda yet lies before me. Scenes of wonder have opened all the way. A thousandth part cannot be told. In Virginia the prospect is very promising. I have

preached in two churches, and this morning am to preach in a third. Rich and poor seem quite ready to hear. Many have been truly awakened. Continue to pray for a poor but willing hunter after souls. O it is heavenly sport!

'Christ's presence doth my pains beguile,
And makes the wilderness to smile.'

"About May I hope to see England. O that you may see me grown in grace! But, alas! alas! I am a dwarf. Lord Jesus, quicken my tardy pace. My cordial respects await your dear yoke-fellow, your brother, and all that are concerned for, or inquire after, my dear friend,

"Yours most affectionately in our common Lord." Every one who had watched the proceedings of the Wesleys, and considered the principles in which they had been trained, must have perceived, from the beginning of their irregularities, that soon or late they would be involved in serious difficulties with regard to the established Church. Through the force of education and example, as we have already seen, when they were at Oxford and in Georgia, they were among the strictest of strict Churchmen, and would have thought it almost a sin even to save a soul from hell, except in accordance with the rubric, and in the use of the Book of Common Prayer. They denied the validity of baptism when administered by men who had only received Presbyterian ordination; for they thought that the laying on of a Bishop's hands was essential to the ministerial character; and that those who had only been ordained "by the laying on of the hands of the Presbytery," were mere laymen,-though they might belong to Protestant national Churches, such as those of Scotland and Holland, and could therefore perform no proper ministerial act. Greatly were they shocked when some of their own sons in the Gospel began to preach; and they resolved at once to silence them by the strong hand of power. But in this they were overruled. They saw that God was with the men whom they charged to hold their peace. Their spirit was devout; and their ministrations were sanctioned by the divine blessing, not in a few solitary instances merely, but in the actual conversion and salvation of multitudes. Hence the brothers were not only reconciled to this innovation, but defended it, and rejoiced in it, as a means which Christ him