1724

To his Brother Samuel [1]

OXON, June 17, 1724.

DEAR BROTHER, -- I believe I need not use many arguments to show I am sorry for your misfortune, though at the same time I am glad you are in a fair way of recovery. If I had heard of it from any one else, I might probably have pleased you with some impertinent consolations; but the way of your relating it is a sufficient proof that they are what you don’t stand in need of. And indeed, if I understand you rightly, you have more reason to thank God that you did not break both, than to repine because you have broke one leg. You have undoubtedly heard the story of the Dutch seaman who having broke one of his legs by a fall from the main-mast instead of condoling himself, thanked God that he had not broke his neck. [See Spectator, No. 574.]

I scarce know whether your first news vexed me, or your last news pleased me, more; but I can assure you that, though I did not cry for grief at the former, I did for joy at the latter part of your letter. The two things that I most wished for of almost anything in the world were to see my mother and Westminster once again; 'and to see them both together was so far above my expectations that I almost looked upon it as next to an impossibility. I have been so very frequently disappointed when I had set my heart on any pleasure, that I will never again depend on any before it comes. However, I shall be obliged to you if you will tell me as near as you can how soon my uncle is expected in England and my mother in London.

I hope my sister is pretty well recovered by this time, and that all at Westminster are in as good health as

Your loving Brother.

PS.--Pray give my service to Mrs. Harris, and as many as ask after me.

Since you have a mind to see some of my verses, I have sent you some, which employed me above an hour yesterday in the afternoon. There is one, and I am afraid but one, good thing in them--that is, they are short.

FROM THE LATIN

As o'er fair Cloe’s rosy cheek,

Careless, a little vagrant passed,

With artful hand around his neck

A slender chain the virgin cast.

As Juno near her throne above

Her spangled bird delights to see,

As Venus has her fav'rite dove,

Cloe shall have her fav'rite flea.

Pleased at his chains, with nimble steps

He o'er her snowy bosom strutted:

Now on her panting breast he leaps,

Now hides between his little head.

Leaving at length his old abode,

He found, by thirst or fortune led,

Her swelling lips, that brighter glowed

Than roses in their native bed.

Cloe, your artful bands undo,

Nor for your captive's safety fear;

No artful bands are needful now

To keep the willing vagrant here.

Whilst on that heav'n 'tis given to stay,

(Who would not wish to be so blest )

No force can draw him once away,

Till Death shall seize his destined breast.

If you will excuse my pen and my haste, I shall be once more, Yours.

This is my birthday. [New Style, June 28.]

To his Mother

OXON, November 1, 1724.

DEAR MOTHER,--We are most of us now very healthy at Oxford, as I hope you are, which may be in some measure owing to the frosty weather we have lately had, preceded by a very cool summer. [See letter of Sept. 23, 1723.] All kind of fruit is so very cheap that apples may be had almost for fetching, and other things are both as plentiful and as good as has been known in a long time.

We have, indeed, something bad as well as good; for a great many rogues are about the town, insomuch that it is very unsafe to be out late. A gentleman of my acquaintance, only standing at a coffee-house door about seven in the evening, had no sooner turned about but his cap and wig were snatched off, which he could not recover, though he pursued the thief a great way. However, I am pretty safe from such gentlemen; for unless they carried me away, carcass and all, they would have but a poor purchase.

The chief piece of news with us is concerning the famous Sheppard's [Jack Sheppard was a carpenter and locksmith. He used a nail to loosen his chains and force the locks. He was taken a few days later and was hanged at Tyburn. The public interest in his exploits was extraordinary. His autobiography was published in 1724 with a True Representation of his escape from the Condemned Hold . . . engraved on copper. Sir James Thornhill painted his portrait, which was reproduced in a mezzotint; he finds a place in all the serials and in Old and New London, ii. 460. Harrison Ainsworth in 1839 made him the hero of a novel.] escape from Newgate, which is indeed as surprising as most stories I have heard.. It seems he had broke out twice before, besides once out of the condemned hold, which, together with his having got his chains off again when the keeper came in, made them still more apprehensive of him. However, that he might be secure if art could make him so, he was fettered, manacled, and chained down to the ground, by one chain round his waist and another round his neck in the strongest part of the Castle. Notwithstanding which he found means to force open his chains and fetters, break through the ceiling there, and then, sliding to the leads of an adjoining house, to pass six several locked doors, and get clear off without discovery; all which was done between six and eleven at night.

I suppose you have heard that Brigadier Mackintosh [William Mackintosh (1662-1743). of Borlum, Inverness-shire was Brigadier in the Old Pretender's service took a prominent part in the Jacobite Rising 1714, escaped to France 1716, returned to Scotland probably in 1719, and was imprisoned for life in Edinburgh Castle. See Dic. Nat. Biog.] was once more taken, but made his escape from a messenger and six dragoons after an obstinate fight.

Three gentlemen of our College were in September last walking in the fields near Oxford about half an hour after six, of whom the foremost was named Barnesley, [Two .Barnesleys (or Barnsleys) were at Christ Church. John Barnesley, son of John of St. Luke's, Dublin, matriculated on Oct. 21, 1724, age 16. William Barnesley of London matriculated May 17, I723, age 19. It was probably the latter to whom Wesley refers. See Foster's Alumni Oxonienses.] who, going to cross the path, of a sudden started back and turned as white as ashes, but being asked by the others what ailed him, answered, Nothing. The second man coming up to the same place seemed presently more frighted than he, and bawled that he saw one in white shoot across the path as swift as an arrow. Mr. Barnesley, hearing that, told him he had seen it just before; and both of them describe it to have been like a man or woman in light gray, but of so thin a substance that they could plainly see through it. They had likewise another accident the same evening, though not quite so remarkable, both which made Barnesley so curious as to write down the day of the month, which was the 26th of September. We thought no more of it afterwards till last week, when Barnesley was informed by a letter from his father in Ireland that his mother died the 26th of September between six and seven in the evening.

I suppose you have seen the famous Dr. Cheyne's Book of Health and Long Life, [George Cheyne (1671-1743), M.D. (Edin.), F.R.S. A sixth edition of his Essay of Health and Long Life was published by G. Strahan in 1725. Cheyne was a pioneer of some of the modern theories of dietetics and hygiene. 'This book of Cheyne's produced even sects in the dietetic philosophy,' said Dr. Arbuthnot in his Preface to his On Aliments, 1731. On March 12, 1742, Wesley read part of Cheyne's Natural Method of Curing Diseases, ‘one of the most ingenious books which I ever saw. But what epicure will ever regard it for "the man talks against good eating and drinking" ! ' There are references to it in Boswell's Life of Johnson. It influenced Wesley throughout his career. Cheyne's earlier book on The English Malady, or a Treatise on Nervous Diseases, 1733, has its bearing on some of the psychological as well as the physiological questions raised in recent years and on some curious phenomena of Wesley's century. See Journal, v. 373; and letter of June 11, 1747, sect. 14, to Bishop Gibson.] which is, as he says he expected, very much cried down by the physicians, though he says they need not be afraid of his weak endeavors while the world, the flesh, and the devil are on the other side of the question. He refers almost everything to temperance and exercise, and supports most things he says with physical reasons. He entirely condemns eating anything salt or high-seasoned, as also pork, fish, and stall-fed cattle; and recommends for drink two pints of water and one of wine in twenty-four hours, with eight ounces of animal and twelve of vegetable food in the same time. I shall trouble you no more about him here, since you may have probably seen the book itself, which is chiefly directed to studious and sedentary persons.

I should have writ before now had I not had an unlucky cut across my thumb, which almost jointed it, but is now pretty well cured. I hope you will excuse my writing so ill, which I can't easily help, as being obliged to get done as soon as I can; and that you will remember my love to my sisters and brother, and my services to as many as ask after me. I should be exceeding glad to keep a correspondence with my sister Emly, [Emilia. She was eleven years older than John. She thanks him on April 7, 1725, for 'dispatching so speedily the business I desired you to do' (Stevenson's Memorials of the Wesley Family, p.262).] if she were willing, for I believe I have not heard from her since I was at Oxford. I have writ once or twice to my sister Suky too, but have not had an answer, either from her or my sister Hetty, from whom I have more than once desired the Poem of the Dog. I should be glad to hear how things go at Wroot, which I now reflect on with more pleasure than Epworth; so true it is, at least in me, that the persons not the place make home so pleasant. You said something of it in your last letter, which I wish could come to pass; but I am afraid I flattered myself too soon. It is well my paper will hold no more, or I don't know when I should have. done, but the scantiness of that obliges me to conclude with begging yours and my father's blessing on

Your dutiful Son.

To his Mother

CH. CH., OXON, December 18, 1724.

DEAR MOTHER--I am very glad to hear you are all well at home, as we are here, the small-pox, which raged so much a little while ago, being now almost quite over. [See letter of Sept. 23, 1723.] Only one gentleman of our College had it, who is now recovered, so that the others who feared it are freed at last from their apprehensions.

I have not lately heard from Westminster; but Mr. Sherman, who did, assured me that my brothers and sister there were very well. He has given me one or two books lately, of which one is Godfrey of Bulloigne. [A translation (probably by Edward Fairfax) of Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered, of which an octavo edition was published in 1687.]

We have still very warm weather at Oxford; and a gentleman, now in the room with me, says that several of the flowers in his father's garden, who lives in town, are blown as if it were spring.

The story of which I said something in my last [See letter of Sept. 23, 1723] was, as I believe I told you before, transacted a little before King James's abdication. The Bishop of Raphoe, one of the principal actors in it, was then pretty old, but never reckoned superstitious or easy to be imposed upon. From him it came to Mr. Span, Vicar-General of Ireland, and was by him related to Mr. Harrison, a clergyman, in the hearing of his son, who told it me.

The substance of it was this. It was told to the Bishop that a lad in his diocese frequently bragged that he was carried up into the air by invisible hands; who immediately sent for him to find out the truth. The lad in private, though not without menacing, confessed that he was often carried into the air, by he knew not whom, to a fine palace; where he was made to sit down at table with a great many people, who feasted and made merry; but that he was afraid they would be angry with him for telling it. The Bishop endeavored by many arguments to dissuade him from spreading such stories, which he told him could not be true, and were at best but the effects of a troubled fancy. But the boy persisted in it, and told his lordship that if he would have a little patience he would presently be convinced of the truth of his relation; for by certain symptoms which he said always preceded his transportation, he was sure it was not far off. This was presently confirmed in the Bishop's presence, the boy being hoisted away out of the window, to his no small amazement. The next day about the same time the boy was let down into the same room, but so bruised and dispirited that it was an hard matter to get a word from him. After some time and repeated threats and promises, he told the Bishop that he was carried to the place he had before spoken of, but that instead of sitting down, as he used to do' with the company, one or two were set apart to beat him, while the rest were making merry.

His lordship now believed it was something more than a jest, being convinced that it was the devil, who for some unknown reasons was permitted to exert an extraordinary power over this lad. He nevertheless proceeded to comfort and pray by him; yet even while he was praying the boy was once more taken from him, nor was he restored again till some hours into the same chamber.

He was not then soon prevailed upon to discover anything, but at last confessed that he was beat by the same persons worse than before; that they threatened him with death if he told again; and that as for the Bishop--a person whom they all honored as a king and termed, as he thought, Awly Pawly -- said that he might bluster as he would and build himself houses, but that he should never live to lie in the new one he had built already. The Bishop on this sent for several of his friends, whom he acquainted with the whole matter, and then desired them, that he might prove the devil a liar, to go him immediately to his new house, in which, though not finished, he said he would, God willing, both sup and lie that very night. Accordingly provisions and necessaries were sent thither, which were followed by the Bishop and his friends; but while they were at supper a very large stone was whirled with an incredible force through the window, and passed the sight of the whole company close to the Bishop, to the side of the room. This the Bishop said was in his opinion the work of the devil, who was willing to keep his word, though it pleased God not to suffer him to accomplish his design. However, the Bishop lay there that night; but it was the last which he spent in it, for the wars breaking out immediately after obliged him to fly his country, and the boy, as far as could learn, suffered in the same manner to his death, which soon followed.

This puts me in mind of an odd circumstance, which I know not yet what to make of. I was last week walking two or three mile from Oxford, and seeing a fair house stand by itself which I never observed before, I asked who lived in it of a countryman; who informed me that it had long stood empty, by reason of its being so much haunted that no family could ever stay long in it. I design to go thither the first opportunity, and see if it be true; which I shall hardly believe till I am an eye- or ear-witness of it.

Pray remember my love to all my sisters: I would have writ to one or two of them if I had either room or time; but I am just going to church; for which reason you will excuse me for breaking off so abruptly and writing so bad. I shall therefore conclude with begging yours and my father's blessing on

Your dutiful Son.

Editor's Introductory Notes

[1] Samuel Wesley (1690-1739) went from Westminster School to Christ Church, Oxford; and in 1732 became Head Master at Tiverton. He was now Usher at Westminster School, and was almost a father to his two younger brothers. He had written to Wesley's tutor at Christ Church about him (see previous letter). John's eagerness to see his mother at Westminster shows how strong were his domestic affections. His uncle Samuel Annesley, on whom so many family hopes were built, never reached London. Adam Clarke says, in his Memoirs of the Wesley Family, that Wesley used to tell his nephews, ' You are heirs to a large property in India, if you can find it out; for my uncle is said to have been very prosperous.' In Annesley of Surat Arnold Wright gives the will of this relative, and states that he died in Surat in 1732, leaving no fortune. The letter shows Wesley's humor, and gives the first verses from his pen that have been preserved.

This letter and that of March 21, 1726, were sent to the Westminster Magazine (1774, pp. 180-2) by the Rev. Samuel Badcock, to whom they had been given by Mrs. Earle, Samuel Wesley's daughter. Wesley criticizes his article in Mary's New Review for December 1784 (Works, xiii. 408-11). Badcock says that the letters had been 'closely locked up for some thirty years,' and were accidentally discovered. 'I have learnt more of his original character than can possibly be known by his public life.' He describes Wesley at twenty-one as ' the very sensible and acute collegian, baffling every man by his subtleties of logic, and laughing at them for being so easily routed; a young fellow of the finest classical taste, of the most liberal and manly sentiments.' He was ' gay and sprightly, with a turn for wit and humor.' Dr. Warburton called him ' this transcendent man.'

Edited by Michael Mattei 2000 Wesley Center for Applied Theology. All rights reserved. No for-profit use of this text is permitted without the express, written consent of the Wesley Center for Applied Theology of Northwest Nazarene College, Nampa, Idaho 83686 USA. Contact the webmaster for permission.