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ney at my first entrance. I shall furnish my school with canvass, worsted, silks, &c., though I am much afraid of be

ing dipt in debt at first : but God's will be done. Troubles THE SEVEN DAUGHTERS OF THE.RECTOR OF

of that kind are what I have been used to. Will you lend EPWORTH.

me the other £3 which you designed for me at Lady-day; :. In a forener number of the Schoolmaster we gave some it would help me much : you will if you can, I ain sure, account of the mother of John and Charles Wesley, and of for so would I du by you. I am half starved with coldt, a family that may be truly termed illustrious. To-day we

which hinders me from writing longer. Emery is no better. follow up that notice by a sketch of the various, and, in

Mrs. Taylor and Kitty give their service. Pray send soon some respects, singular fortunes of the daughters, educated

Kez is gone home for good and all. I am knitting upon that'strict system which Mrs. Wesley details in the brother Charles a fine purse ;-give my love to him. letter to her son, John, the founder of Methodism, for which

“ I am, dear brother, ve refer to page 69, of the present volume. Our history is

“ Yuur loving sister and constant friend, principaily taken from Dove's late excellent Memoir of the

“EMILIA HARPER." Wesley family. EMILIA, afterwards Mrs. Harper, appears to have been

Mrs. Harper is represented as a fine woman; of a noblo the eldest of the seven surviving daughters of the Rector of yet affable countenance, and of a kind and affectionate disEpworth. She is reported to have been the favourite of her position, as appears by a poem addressed to her by her sismother, (though some accounts state this of Patly,) and to ter, Mrs. Wright, before her marriage, of which we give a have had good strong sense, much wit, a prodigious memory, and a talent for poetry. She was a good classical

True wit and sprightly genius shine scholar, and wrote a beautiful hand. She married au apo

In every turn, in every line:

To there, () skilful nine annex thecary at Epworth, of the name of Harper, who left her a

The native sweetness of my sex ; young widow. What proportion the intellect of Mr. Harper

And that peculiar talent let me shew bore to that of his wife, we know not; but in politics they

Which Providence doth oft bestow

On spirits that are high, with fortunes that are lou. were in suited, as he was a violent Whig, and she an un. bending Tory,

Thy virtues and thy graces all,

How simple, free, and natural! It appears froun the education given to Miss Emilia, and

Thy graceful torm with pleasure 1 survey; some of her o her sisters, that their parents designed them

It charms the eye,-the heart, away.

Malicious fortune did repine, for governesses. About the year 1730, Emilia became a

To grant her gifts to worth like thine! teacher at the boariling school of a Mrs. Taylor, in Lincoln,

To all thy outward majesty and grace, where, though she had the whole care of the school, she was

To all the blooming features of thy face, not well-uscil, and worse paid. Having bonne this usage

To all the heavenly sweetness of thy mind, as long as reason would dictate forbearance, she laid the

A noble, generous, equal soul is joined,

By reazon polished, and by arts retined, cise before her brothers, with a resolution to beyin a school

Thy even steady eye can see on her own account at Gainsborough. She had their ap

Dame fortune smile, or frown at thee;

At every varied change can say, it moves not me! probation, gave Mrs. Taylor warning, and went to Gains.

Fortune has fixed thee in a place borough, where she continued at least till 1735, as she was

Debirred of wisdom, wit, and grace. there at the time of her father's death. With ber Mre. Wes

High births and virtue equally they scorn, ley appears to have sojourned a wbile, before she went to

As asses dull, on dunghills born: live with her sons John and Charles ; here, free from

linpervjous as the stones, their heads are found;

Their rage and hatred steadfast as the ground. cares and worldly anxieties, with which she had long been

With these unpoli-hed wights thy youthful days unavoidably encumbered, she spent the evening of her life

Glide slow and dull, and nature's lamp decay ;

Oh! what a lamp is hid, 'mid such a sordid race in comparative ease and comfort. We learn several partieulars respecting Mrs. Harper from a letter she wrote to her

Mrs. Harper was left without property: but in her wi. brother Jolin, when she had resolved upon yoing to Gains dowhood for many years, she was maintained entirely lry borough,

her brothers, and lived at the preacher's house adjoining the

chapel, in West Street, Seven Dials, London. She terni. « Dear BROTHER,

nated her earthly existence at a very advanced og ', about the " Your last letter comforted and settled my year 1772. That her mind was highly cultivated, and her mind wonderfully. O! continue to talk to me of the rea. taste exquisite, appears from the following assertion of her sonableness of resignation to the Divine Will, to enable me brother, John :-“ My sister, Harper, was the best reader of to bear cheerfully the ills of life, the lot appointed me; Milton I ever heard." and never to suffer grief so far to prevail, as to injure my Mary, afterwards Mrs. Whitelamb, was the second of health, or long to cloud the natural cheerfulness of my tem- the grown-up daughters of the Rector of Epworth. Through per. I had writ long since, but had a mind to see first how affliction, and probably some mismanagement in her nur-e, my small affairs would be settled ; and now can assure you she became considerably deformed in body: and her growth that, at Lady-day, I leave Lincoln certainly. You were of in consequence was much stinted, and her health injured; opinion that my leaving Mrs. Taylor would not only prove but all written and oral testimony concur in the statement, prejudicial to her affairs, (and so far all the town agrees with that her face was exquisitely beautiful, and was a fair and you,) but would be a great affliction to her. I own llegible index to her mind. Her humble, obliging, and even thought so, too : but we hoth were a little mistaken. She disposition, made her the favourite and delight of the whole received the news of my going with an indifference I did not family. Her brothers, John and Charles, frequently spoke of expect. Never was such a teacher, as I may justly say I her with the most lender respect; and her sister, Mrs. Wright, bave been, so foolishly lost, or so unnecessarily disobliged. (no mean judge of character,) mentions her as one of the most Had she paid my last year's wages but the day before Mar- exalted of human characters. She married, with the aptinimas, I still had staid : instead of that, slie has received probation of the family, Mr. John Whitelamb. He was the £129 vrithin these three months, and yet never would spare son of parents at that time in very low circumstances, and ozie six or seven pounds for me, which I am sure no teacher was put to a charity school at Wroote. He suffered many avill ever bear. She fancies I never knew of any money privations in order to acquire a sufficiency of learning to she received ; when, alas! she can never have one five pounds pass through the University and obtain orders. It is in reBut I know of it. I have so satisfied brother Sam, he ference to this that Mrs. Wesley calls him “poor starveling wishes me good success at Gainsborongh, and says he can Johnny.” So low were his circumstances that he could not Áo longer oppose my resolution, which pleases me much, for purchase himself a gown when ordained. Mr. John WesI would gladly live civilly with him, and friendly with you. ley, writing to his brother Samuel in 1732, says, a John 2.0 t I have a fairer prospect at Gainsborongh than I could Whitelamb wants a youn much : I am not rich enoưyh to have hoped for ; my greatest difficulty will be want of mo.. buy him one at present. If you are willing my twenty

shillings should go towards that, I will add ten more to There is much good sense and suitable advice in these make up the price of a new one.' In every respect, the verses ; and they give an additional testimony to the domes. Wesleys divided with him, according to their power : and tic happiness of their author. " I wish," says Dr. Clarke, by his humble and upright conduct in the early part of his

“ they were in the hands of every newly married couple in life, he repaid their kindness. When he got orders, Mr. the kingdom.” Wesley made him his curate in Wroote ; and having en.

SUSANNA, afterwards Mrs. Ellison, was born about the gaged Miss Mary's affections, they were married, and Mr. year 1701. She is reported to have been good-naturel, very Wesley gave up to him the living at Wroote. Her sister, facetious, but a little romantic. She married Richard EniWright, the most interesting of the Wesley family, com son, Esq., a gentleman of good family, who had a respectable posed some lines to her memory, which contain an affecting establishment. But though she bore him several children, allusion to her own fate.

the marriage, like some others in the Wesley family, was “ If blissful spirits condescend to know,

not a happy one. She possessed a mind naturally strong, And hover round what once they loved below;

which was much improved by a good education. His mind Maria! gentlest excellence! attend

was common, coarse, uncultivated, and too mnch inclined To her, who glories to have called thee friend! Remote in merit, tho' allied in blood,

to despotic sway, which prevented conjugal happiness. C's. Unworthy 1, and thou divinely good!

fitness of minds more than circumstances, is what in ge

neral mars the marriage union. Where minds are united With business and devotion never cloyed, No moment of thy life pass'd unemployed;

means of happiness and contentment are ever within reach Weil-natured mirth, matured discretion joined,

What little domestic happiness they had, was not only Constant attendants of the virtuous mind.

interrupied, but finally destroyed, by a fire which foi From earliest dawn of youth, in thee well known, The saint sublime and finished Christian shone.

place in their dwelling-house. What the cause of this fir Yet would not grace one grain of pride allow,

was, is not known : but after it took place, Mrs Ellis Or cry, “ Stand off, I'm holier than thou.”

would never again live with her husband! She went to A worth so singular since time began, But once surpassed, and He was more than man.

London, and hid herself among some of her children, wlie When deep immers'd in griefs beyond redress,

were established there, and received also considerable helps And friends and kindred heightened by distress, And with relentless efforts made me prove

from her brother John, who, after the death of his brother, Pain, grief, despair, and wedlock without love ;

Samuel, became the common almoner of the family. Mr.
My soft Maria could alone dissent,

Ellison used many means to get his wife to return; but shr
O'erlook'd the fatal vow, and mourn'd the punishment !
Condoled the ill, admitting no relief,

utterly refused either to see him, or to have any further inWith such infinitude of pitying grief,

tercourse with him. As he knew her affectionate disposi. That all who could not my demerit see,

tion, in order to bring her down into the country, he adres: Mistouk her wond'rous love for worth in me.

tised an account of his death! When this met her ese, she Anne, afterwards Mrs. Lambert, was married to a gen- immediately set off for Lincolnshire, to pay the last tribute tleman of the name of John Lambert, a land-surveyor in of respect to his remains : but when she found him still Epworth, of whom and their children, if they had any, we alive and well, she returned, and no persuasion could induo know nothing. Mr. and Mrs. Lambert are probably the her to live with him. It does not appear that she contių. persons meant by Mr. John Wesley in his Journal, under nicated to any person the cause of her aversion; and after date Tuesday, June 8, 1742, where he says :-“ I walked this lapse of time it is in vain to pursue it by conjecture. to Hibaldstone, about ten miles from Epworth, to see my MEHETABEL, afterwards Mrs. Wright, (called als brother and sister;" but he mentions no name. On Mrs. Hetty, and, by her brother, Samuel, sometimes Kitty, Lambert's marriage, her brother Sainuel presented to her gave, from infancy, such proofs of strong mental powers. the following verses :

as led her parents to cultivate them with the utmost No fiction fine shall guide my hand,

These exertions were crowned with success ; for at
But artless truth the verse supply;
Which all with ea e may understand,

the early age of eight years, she made such proficienty is But none be able to deny.

the learned languages, that she could read the Greek test Nor, sister, take the care amiss,

She appears to have been the most eminently gifted of the Which I, in giving rules, employ

female branches of the Wesley family. She had a fee To point the likeliest way to bliss, To cause, as well as wish, you joy.

talent for poetry, and availed herself of the rich, swæt 114 Let love your reason never blind,

pensive warblings of her lyre, to sooth her spirit under the To dream of paradise below;

pressure of deep and accumulated calamity. At the tale ut For sorrows must attend mankind,

her afflictions every feeling heart must sigh. Religion Wat And pain, and weariness, and wo! Though still from mutual love, relief

the balm which allayed her anguish; and the sorrows In all conditions may be found,

the moment, now enhance her eterual joy. From her child It cures at once tbe common grief,

hood she was gay and sprightly ; full of mirth, good lot And softens the severest wound.

mour, and keen wit. She appears to have had many suitors: Through diligence, and well-carned gain, In growing plenty may you live!

but they were generally of the thoughtless class, and ill. And each in piety obtain

suited to make her either happy or useful, in a matrimonial Repose that riches cannot give !

If children ere should bless the bed,

To some of those proposed matches, in early life, the fole
O! rather let them infants die,
Than live to grieve the hoary head,

lowing lines allude, which were found in her father's hand And make the aged father sigh !

writing, and marked by Mr. Jolin Wesley “ Hetty's lette Still duteous, let them ne'er conspire

to her Mother."-
To make their parents disagree;
No son be rival to his sire,

No daughter more beloved than thee!

“ You were once in the ew'n,
Let them be humble, pious, wise,

As by us cakes is plainly shewn,
Nor bigher station wish to know ;

Who else had nie'er come after.
Since only those deserve to rise,

Pray speak a word in time of need,
Who live contented to be low.

And with my sour-look'd father plead
Firm let the husband's empire stand,

For your distressed daughter."
With easy but unquestioned sway;

In the spring freshness of youth and hope, her affections
May ile have kindness to command,
And thou the bravery to obcy.

were engaged by onesho, in point of abilities and situation Long may he give the comfort, long

might have been a suitable husbaud ; some circumstance, As the frail knot of life shall hold!

however, caused a disagreement with her father. This is More than a father when thou'rt young,

terference did not move lletty. She refused to give lut More than a son when waxing old,

lover up ; and had he been faithful to her, the conuesit The greatest carthly pleasure try, Allowed by Providence divine;

in all probability, would have issued in marriage : buz Be still a husband, blest as 1,

whether he was offended with the opposition he met with. And bou a witc as good as mine:

or it proceeded fionn fickleneas; is not known. He, lowered


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All various ills of human race

remitted his assiduities, and at last abandoned a woman who menta than have the torment of thinking they agree not would have been an honour to the first man in the land. with yours. You are so good to my spouse and me, as to The matter thus terminating, Hetty committed a fatal say, you shall always think yourself obliged to him for error, which many woman have done in their just, but his civilities to me. I hope he will always continue to use blind resentment-she married the first person who offered. me better than I merit from him in one respect. This was a man of the name of Wright, in no desirable “ I think exactly the same of my marriage as I did before rank in life, of coarse mind and manners, inferior to herself it happened; but though I would have given at least one of in education and intellect, and every way upworthy of a my eyes for the liberty of throwing myself at your feet bewoman, whose equal in all things it would have been dif- fore I was married at all ; yet since it is past, and matrificult to find; for her person was more than commonly monial grievances are usually irreparable, I hope you will pleasing, her disposition gentle and affectionate, her prin- condescend to be so far of my opinion, as to own,—that ciples Hose which arm the heart either for prosperous or since upon some accounts I am happier than I deserve, it is adverse fortune, her talents remarkable, and her attainments best to say little of things quite past remedy; and endeabeyond what are ordinarily permitted to women, even those vour, as I really do, to make myself more and more conwho are the most highly educated. Duty in her had pro- tented, though things may not be to my wish." duced so inuch affection towards the miserable creature whom she had made her husband, that the brutal profligacy Wright had an establishment in Frith Street, Soho, Lone of his conduct almost broke her heart. He did not know don, where be carried on the business of plumbing and the value of the woman he had espoused ! He associated glazing, and had lead works connected with it.

His emwith low, dissolute company, spent his evenings from home, ployment greatly injured his own health, and materially and became a confirmed drunkard. This marriage is sup- affected that of Mrs. Wright. They had several children, posed to have taken place at the end of the year 1725. all of whoin died young; and it was their mother's opinion Mary, of all her sisters, had the courage to counsel her not that the effluvia from the lead-works was the cause of their to marry him.

death. A perplexed and thorny path appears to have been the We extract the following from a MS. letter of Mr. general lot of the sensible and pious daughters of the Rector William Duncombe, to Mrs. Elizabeth Carter, inserted in of Epworth. They were for the most part unsuitably, and “ Brydges'Censura Lileraria," Vol. vii. p. 277. It speaks therefore unhappily, married. At a time when Mrs. Wright better of Wright than he deserved. believed and hoped that she should soon be at peace in the “ Yon desire some account of Mrs. Wright. grave, she coinposed this Epitaph for herself :

sister to Simuel, John, and Chirles Wesley. The first « Destined, while living, to sustain

was an Usher at Westminster, and died master of Tiverton An equal share of grief and pain ;

School in Devonshire. John and Charles are eminent Within this breast hart once a place.

preachers among the Methodists. Her father was a clergyWithout complaint, she learn' to bear,

man, and author of a pou'm called The Life of Christ. It
A living death, a long despair;
is a pious book, but bears no character as a Poem.

Till hard oppressed by adverse fate,
O'ercharger, she sunk beneath the weight;

we have a volume of poems by Samuel Weiley, jun., which And to thi' peaceful tomb retired,

are ingenious and entertaining. He had an excellent knack So much esteem'd, so long desired.

of telling a tale in verse. I suppose you must have seen The painful mortal contrict's o'er;

them. A broken heart can ble d no more »

“ Mr. Highmore, who knew Mrs. Wright when young, From that illness, however, she recovered, so far as to told me that she was very handsome. When I saw her linger on for many years, living to find in religion the con. solation she needed, and which nothing else can bestow. beauty, except a lively piercing eye.

she was in a languishing way, and had no remains of

She was very wtorThat she was almost compelled by her father to marry tunate, as you will find by her poems, which are written Wright, appears evident from the following letter :

with great delicacy ; but so tender and affecting, they can

“ July 3, 1729. scarcely be read without tears. She had an uncle, a sur. " HONOURED Sia,

geon, with whom she was a favourite. In her bloom, he “Though I was glad, on any terms, of used to take her with him to Bath, Tunbridge, &c. ; and the favour of a line from you ; yet I was concerned at your she has done justice to his memory in an excellent porm. displeasure on account of the unfortunate paragraph, which “ Mr. Wright, her husband, is iny plumber, and lives in you are pleased to say was meant for the flower of my let this street; an honest, laborious man, but by no means : ter, but which was in reality the only thing I disliked in fit husband for such a woman. He was but a journey gan it before it went. I wish it had not gone, since I perceive when she married him; but set up with the fortune it gave you some uneasiness.

left her by her uncle. Mrs. Wright has been derd about « But since what I said occasioned some queries, which I two years. On ny asking if she had any child living, she should be glad to speak freely about, were I sure that the replied, "I have had several, but the white lead killed them least I could say would not grieve or offend you, or were I all!' She had just come from Bristol and was very weak. so happy as to think like you in everything ; I earnestly • How, madam,' said I, could your bear the fatigue of so beg that the little I shall say may not be offensive to you, long a journey ? “We had a coach of our own,' said sh", since I promise to be as little witty as possible, though 1 and took short stages ; besides, I had the King with me!' can't help saying, you only accuse me of being too much The King ; I suppose you mean a person whose name is $0 ; especially these late years past I have been pretty free King.'—No; I mean my brother, the King of the Mefrom that scandal.

tholists !' This looked like a piece of lunacy. “You ask me what hurt matrimony has done me?' “ She told me thai she had loag ardently wished for and whether I had always so frightful an idea of it as I death ; " and the rather,' said she, because we, the methohave now?' Home questions indeed! and I once more beg dists, always die in transports of joy !' I am told that she of you not to be offended at the least I can say to them, it wrote some hymns for the methodists, but have noi secu I say any thing.

any of them. “I had not always such poti. ns of wedlock as now ; but " It affected me to view the ruin of so fine a frame; so I thought where there was a musual affection and desire of made her only three or four visits. Mr. Wright told me pleasing, soinething near an equality of mind and person ; she had burned many poems, and given some to a beloved either earthly or heavenly wisdom, and any thing to keep sister, which he could never recover. As inany as lie could love warm between a young couple, there was a possibility procure, he gave me. I will send them to you speedily. of happiness in a married state, but where all, or most of “I went one day with Wright to hear Mr. Charles Westhese, are wanting, I ever thonglit people could not marry ley preach. I find his business is only with the heart and without sinning against God and themselves, I could say affections. As to the understanding, that must shift for inuch more ; but would rather cternally stide my senti- itselt. Most of our clergy are in the contrary extreme, and

Ere the last convulsive start

apply themselves only to the head. To be sure they take could give way to snch a partiality." Many years after, us all for stoics; and think that, like a young lady of your when this saying was mentioned to Mrs. Hall, she replied, · acquaintance, we have no passions,

( what was called partiality, was what they might all

i W. Duncombe." have enjoyed if they liad wished it; which was to sit in my * 20th Nov. 1752.".

mother's chaorber when disengaged ; and listen to her cue. The following beautiful lines by Mrs. Wright, seem to versation." “ What ifas called partiality to Patig," says have been a mere erlempore effusion, poured out from the Dr. Clarke, “was the indulgence of a propensity to store fulness of her heart on the occasion, and sharpened with the her mind with the observations of a parent, whose mode of keen anguish of distress.

thinking was not common, and whose conversation was pe. À MOTHER'S ADDRESS TO HER DYING INFANT.

culiarly interesting ; and it would have been cruelty to

have chased away a little one, who preferred her mother's Tender softness ! infant mild ! Perfect, purest, brightest child!

society to recreation." "Transient lustre! beauteous clay!

Mrs. Wesley's opinion of the strong characteristic sted. Smiling wonder of a day !

ness of Martha will appear from the following incidea: Rends thy unresisting heart;

One day, when she entered the nursery, all the children,
Ere the long enduring swoon

Patty excepted, (who was ever sedate and reflecting.) ter
Weigh thy precious cyelids dow;
Ahi regard a mother's moals,

in high glee and frolic, as they ought to be, their mother Anguish deeper than thy own.

said, but not rebukingly, “You will all be more serious Fairest eyes, whose dawning light

one day." Martha lifting up her head, immediately asked, Late, with rapture, blest my sight,

“shall I be more serious, Ma'am ?" "No," replied to Ere your orbs extinguish'd be, Bend their tremblig beams on me!

mother. The truth appears to be, that the partiality was Drooping sweetness ! verdant flower!

on the part of the child. Patty loved the mother, and Blooming, withering in an hour!

wished to listen to her discourse, by which she increased Ere thy gentle breast sustains Latest, fiercest, mortal pains,

her fund of knowledge: a propensity which was very firHear a suppliant! let me be

perly indulged.” To her brother John she was uncon. Partner in thy destiny !

monly attached. They had the same features as exactlya That whene'er the fatal cloud Must thy radiant temples shroud;

if cast in the same mould; added to a great similarity of When deadly damps, impending now, Shall hover round thy destined brow,

disposition. Even their handwriting was so much ahke Diffurive may their influence be,

that one might be easily mistaken for the other. And with the blossom blast the tice.

But there is one part of Martha's character which he This was composed during her confinement, and written

been strongly censured-her conduct in reference to her from her mouth by her husband, who sent it to Mr. John marriage. Whilst she was at her uncle's house in London, Wesley. The original letter sent with these verses was in

she received the addresses of a gentleman of the name of Dr. Clarke's possession, who says, “it is a curiosity of its

Hall, who was one of Mr. Wesley's pupils at Lincoln (ol. kind; and one proof ainongst many, of the total unfitness lege. He possessed an agreeable person, considerable talenta, of such a slender, and uncultivated mind, to match with one

and manners which were in a high degree prepossessing, lo of the highest ornaments of her sex. I shall give it entire those who did not see beneath the surface. Mr. John Wir in its own orthography, in order to vindicate the complaints and teachable, and in all manner of conversation holy sat

ley was much attached to him ; he thought him humble, of this forlorn woman, who was forced to accept in marriage unblameable. There were indeed parts of his conduct whicz the rude hand which wrote it. It is like the ancient He might have led a wary man to suspect either his saniis, e brew, all without points."

his sincerity; but the tutor was too sincere himself, and to “ To the Reverend Mr. John Wesley, Fellow in Christ enthusiastic, to entertain the suspicion which some of hỏi Church College, Oxon.

extravagances might justly have excited. Samuel formed “ DEAR BRO:

a truer judgment. “I never liked the man," saya de “This comes to Let you know that my « from the first time I saw him. His smoothness did n wife'is brought to bed and is in a hopefull way of Doing suit my roughness. He appeared always to dreaid me as a well but the Dear child Died--the Third day after it was wit and a jester: this with me is a sure sign of guilts born—which has been of great concerne to me and my wite hypocrisy." He never could meet my eye in full light. She Joyns With me In Love to your Sölfe and Bro : Charles Conscious that there was something foul at the botton, be “From Your Loveing Bro :

was afraid that I should see it, if I looked keenly into ba “ to Comnd-WM. WRIGHT.” eye." John, however, took him to his bosom. PS. Ive sen you Sum Verses that my wife maid of

In Hall's addresses to Martha, there is no doubt her

sincere; and in order to secure her, he took the expedient Dear Lamb Let me hear from one or both of you as soon as you Think Conveniant."

which was frequently practised in those days, to botrath her

to himself. All this was done without the knowledge af Mrs. Wright wrote much beautiful poetry, but could her parents, or her brothers, for some time. He afterwards never he prevailed upon to collect and give her poems to the accompanied John and Charles to Epworth, and there be public. It is said that she gave them at her death to one of her sisters. Many have been published in different col- her consent to marry him, and was on the point of leading

saw ber sister Kezzia, became enamoured of her, obtaited lections. Some may be found in the Poetical Register, the poor unconscious Kezzia to the altar, afirming vehemently Christian Magazine, the Arminian Magazine, and in the that “the thing was of God; that he was certain it was a different lives of her brothers, John and Charles. Most of will; God had revealed to him that he must marry, and the poems were written under strong mental depression. 2. She was visited by her brother Charles in her last illness. I alarmed at his conduct; in vain they questioned him

that Kezzia was the very person.” The family was justis He says in his journal :-“ I prayed lıy my sister, Wright, the reason of this change, ivhen, to the utter astonishme! á gracious, trembling soul; a bruised 'reed which the Lord of all parties, in a few days Hall changed his mind again. will not break." Sie died March 21, 1751 ; and Mr. and pretending, with blasphemous effrontery, that the ACharles Wesley preached her funeral sermon from these mighty had changed His ; declared that a second revelation words___20 Thy sun shall no more go down, neither shall had countermanded the first, and instructed him to maty thy'moon withdraw itself, for the Lord shall be thine ever not Kezzia, but her sister Martha.

The family, and lasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended." especially the brothers, felt indignant at this infamous firm Mrs. Wright was described to Dr. Clarke, by one who posal. knew her, 'as “an elegant woman, with great refinement Martha appears at that time to have been in London, of manners.”

when Hall went down into Lincolnshire : and knew the She was reported to be her mother's favourite. Mr. Charles thing of the transaction with Kezzia at Epworth till a con expressed his « cronder that so wise it woman as his mother siderable time after it took place. When she found bow

matters stood, she wrote to her mother, and laid open the pewter vessel, and standing, at the turning of the stairs whole business; who, on this explanation, wrote her full which led to their apartment, she knockcd the assailants cousent, a-suring Martha, “ that if she had obtained the down in success on, as they approached, and maintained the consent of her uncle, there was no obstacle."

post till succour arrived, and dispersed the villains Hall Dr. Clarke, who labours hard to vindicate Mrs. Hall in continued his connexion with this wretched woinan till she this matter, says, “ Kezzia, on hearing the true relation, died, and then returned to England, weak, and in some de corlially renounced all clain tu Hail; and, from every gree hun bled, and was afterwards seen officiating in, a thing I have been able to learn, she sat as indifferent to church in London, where, not long before his death, he de. him as if no such transaction had ever existed. Her uncle, livered, with great energy, an extempore discourse, which a Matthew, with whom Patty lived, was so satisfied with her gentleman who heard it, says was inimitably pathetic. conduct and the match, that he gave her L.500 on her mar Mrs. Hall, bound, as she most conscientiously thought riage, and his testimony of her dutiful and grateful con- herself, by her original vows, showed him every kind of duct during the whole time she had resided in his house.' charitable attention till his death, which took place at BrisKezzia also gare her consent by choosing to live with Mr. tol, January 6, 1776. He exclaimed, in his last hours, “I and Mrs. Hall after their marriage, though she had a press- have injured an angel! an angel that never reproached ing invitation to reside with her brother Samuel ; and her me !" Mr. John Wesley gives the following account of the brother John was to have furnished L.50 per annuin to closing scene :-" I came to Bristol just in time enough not cover her expenses. The true state of the case was for to see, but to bury poor Mr. Hall, my brother-in-law, who died some years unknown to her brothers; and Mr. John Wes. on Wednesday morning, I trust in peace, for God had given ley, in a letter to Hall, dated Dec. 2, 1747, charges him him deep repentance. Such another monument of Divine • with having stolen Kezzia from the God of her youth; mercy, considering how low he had fallen, and from what that in consequence she refused to be comforted, fell into a heights of holiness, I have not seen, no not in seventy years. lingering illness, which terminated in her death ; but her I had designed to have visited himn in the morning, but he blood still cried unto God from the earth against him, and did not stay for my coming. It is enough, if, after all his that surely it was upon his head.' That this was Mr. wanderings, we weet again in Abraham's bosom." Wesley's impression I well know; but it is not strictly

We shall now consider Mrs. Hall's behaviour as a wife, correct. I have the almost dying assertions of Mrs. Hall, to one of the worst and most unkind of husbands. “I will delivered to her beloved niece, Miss Wesley, and by her adduce an instance," says Dr. Clarke, “ recorded by withanded in writing to me, that the facts of the case were as nesses on the spot, and corroborated by herself, on being stated above."

questioned as to its truth. When they lived at Fullartun, Opposed to this opinion, however, we have the testimony near Salisbury, where Hall was the curate, she had taken á of Mr. Moore, who was intimately acquainted with Mrs. young woman into the house as a seainstress, whom he seHall. He says that “ Mrs. Hall did not speak of her mar. duced : these were the beginnings of his ways. Mrs. Hall riage quite as the respectable biographer of her family does being quite unsuspicious, was utterly ignorant of any im. She was convinced for many years, that her brothers were proper attachment between her husband and the girl. so far right, that for both sisters to have refused him, after he “ Finding the time of the young woman's travail draw. had manifested such a want of principle and honour, would ing near, he feigned a call to London on some important have been the more excellent way."

business, and departed. Soon after his departure the girl Till this time John Wesley believed that Hall was,

fell into labour. Mrs. Hall, one of the most feeling and t without question, filled with faith, and the love of God; considerate of women on such occasions, ordered her serso that in all England he knew not his fellow. He thought vants to go instantly for a doctor. They all refused ; and him a pattern of lowliness, meekness, seriousness, and con when she had reinonstrated with them on their inhumanity, tinnal advertance to the presence of God; and, above all, they completed her surprise by informing her that the giri, joyfulness." But afterwards he found “ there was a worm labour, through her criminal connexion with Hall, at the root of the gourd.”. Hall began to teach that there and that they all knew her guilt long before. She heard, was “no resurrection of the body, no general judgment, no

without betraying any emotion, what she bad not before hell, no worm that never dieth, no fire that never shall be even suspected, and repeated her commands for assistance. quenched.” Mr. J. Wesley, in the course of his travelling, They, full of indignation at the unfortunate creature, and came to Hall's house, near Salisbury, and was let in, strangely inhuman, absolutely refused to obey; on which though orders had been given that he should not be admit. Mrs. Hall immediately went out herself, and brought in a ted. Hall left the room as suon as he entered, sent a mes. midwife ; called on a neighbour ; divided the only six sage to him that he must quit the house, and presently pounds she had in the house, and deposited five with her, turned his wife out of doors. Having now thrown off all who was astonished at her conduct; enjoined kind treat. restraint, and all regard to decency, he publicly and pri. ment, and no reproaches ; and then set vff for London, vately recommended polygamy, as conformable to nature, found her husband, related in her own mild manner the preached in its defence, and practised as he preached. Soon circumstances, told him what she had done, and prevailed he laid aside all pretensions to religion, professed himself upon him to return to Salisbury as soon as the young woan infidel, and led, fur inany years, the life of an adven man could be removed from the house. : He thought the turer and a profligate, at home and abroad ; ac

conduct of his wife not only Christian, but heroic ; and times as a physician, sometimes as a priest, or figured away

was for a time suitably affected by it; but having embraced with his sword, cane, and scarlet cloak; assuming any the ductrine of polygamy, his reformation was but of short character, according to his humour, or the convenience of continuance. Mr. Hall was guilty of many similar infithe day. Hall passed from charge to change, till at last he delities; and after being the father of ten children by his gloried in his shame, and became a proverb of reproach, wife, nine of whom lie buried at Salisbury, he abandoned " The vilest husband, and the worst of men."

his family, and went off to the West Indies with one of his

mistresses. Notwithstanding all this treatment, Mrs. Hall He would talk, with apparent ease, to his chaste wife con.

was never heard to speak of him but with kindness. She ceruing his concubines ! He would tell her, that she was

often expressed wonder that women should profess to love his carnal wife, but they his spiritual wives! for he had their husbands, and yet dwell upon their faulis, or indeed taught them to despise all sober, scriptural religion, and to

upon those of their friends. . She was never known to speak talk as corruptly as himself. At length he broke all evil of any person." bounds, and retired to the West Indies, taking his chief When Mr. Charles Wesley asked her “how she could favourite with him. She was a remarkable woman; and give money," as previously related, “ to her husband's.conappears to have had more personal courage than her cubine ?", she answered, "I knew I could obtain what wretched paramour. In an assault upon the house in wanted from many ; but she, poor hapless creature I could which they lived, by a black banditti, she seized a large not; many thinking it meritorious to abandon her to the

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