Dr. Morley, and found him more civil than ever. I will write to the Bishop of Lincoln again, and to your brother Samuel the next post. Study hard lest your opponents beat you." In another letter, speaking of Dr. Morley, he says, "You are infinitely obliged to that generous man. Mr. Wesley's uncommon seriousness, however, was against him; and he did not escape the banter and ridicule of his adversaries at Lincoln College on this occasion. In reference to this, his father observes in a letter of August: "As for the Gentlemen Candidates you write of does any body think, that the devil has no agents left? It is a very callow virtue, sure, that cannot bear being laughed at. I think our Captain and Master endured something more for us, before he entered into glory and unless we follow his steps, in vain do we hope to share that glory with him. Nor shall any who sincerely endeavour to serve him, either by turning others to righteousness, or keeping them steadfast in it, lose their reward."-And in his letter of October the 19th, he exhorts him to bear patiently what was said of him at Lincoln: "But be sure," says he, "never to return the like treatment to your enemy. You and I have hitherto done the best we could in that affair; do you continue to do the same, and rest the whole with Providence."

His mother writes to him on this occasion more in the way of encouragement and caution: "If it be," says she, "a weak virtue that cannot bear being laughed at, I am sure it is a strong and well-confirmed virtue that can bear the test of a brisk buffoonery. I doubt too many people, though well inclined, have yet made shipwreck of faith and a good conscience, merely because they could not bear raillery. Some young persons have a natural excess of bashfulness; others are so tender of what they call honour, that they cannot endure to be made a jest of.I would therefore advise those who are in the beginning of a Christian course, to shun the company of profane wits, as they would the plague ; and never to contract an intimacy with any, but such as have a good sense of religion.”

But notwithstanding the warm opposition which his opponents made against him, Mr. Wesley's general good character for learning and diligence, gave such firmness and zeal to his friends, that on Thursday, March the 17th, 1726, he was elected Fellow of Lincoln College.* His father very emphatically expresses his satisfaction on this occasion, in a letter of the 1st of April." I have both yours, since your election; -in both, you express yourself as becometh you. What will be my own fate before the summer be over, God knows; sed passi graviora Wherever I am, my Jack is Fellow of Lincoln."-His mother, in a letter of March 30, tells him, in her usual strain of piety, "I think myself obliged to return great thanks to Almighty God, for giving you good success at Lincoln. Let whoever He pleased be the instrument, to Him, and to Him alone, the glory appertains."

The Monday following his election, being March 21, he wrote to his brother Samuel,† expressing his gratitude for the assistance he had given him in that affair. With this letter he sent two or three copies of

*Private Diary.

This letter, and the verses which accompanied it, were inserted some years ago, by Mr. Badcock, in the Westminster Magazine. The letter is there without a date, which I have taken from Mr. John Wesley's Diary. Mr. Badcock tells the public, that he had a variety of curious papers by him, which show Mr. Wesley in a light which perhaps he had forgot, &c.-I shall have occasion to mention this circumstance in another place.

verses, which seem, by what he says of them, to have been written at an early period. "I have not yet," says he, " been able to meet with one or two gentlemen, from whom I am in hopes of getting two or three copies of verses. The most tolerable of my own, if any such there were, you probably received from Leyburn. Some of those I had besides, I have sent here; and shall be very glad if they are capable of being so corrected, as to be of any service to you."-He sent three specimens of his poetry with this letter: the two following I shall insert; which considered as hasty productions-as mere amusements— and sent in their rough state, I think every good judge will pronounce

to be excellent.

HORACE, LIB. I, ODE XXII.

INTEGRITY needs no defence;

The man who trusts to innocence*
Nor wants the darts Numidians throw,
Nor arrows of the Parthian bow.

Secure o'er Lybia's sandy seas,
Or hoary Caucasus he strays,
O'er regions scarcely known to fame,
Wash'd by Hydaspes' fabled stream.
While void of cares, of nought afraid,
Late in the Sabine woods I stray'd;
On Sylvia's lips, while pleased I sung,
How love and soft persuasion hung!
A rav'nous wolf, intent on food,
Rush'd from the covert of the wood;
Yet dared not violate the grove
Secured by innocence and love;
Nor Mauritania's sultry plain
So large a savage does contain;
Nor e'er so huge a monster treads
Warlike Apulia's beechen shades.
Place me where no revolving sun
Does e'er his radiant circle run;

Where clouds and damps alone appear,
And poison the unwholesome year:

Place me in that effulgent day

Beneath the sun's directer ray;

No change from its fix'd place shall move
The basis of my lasting love.

* Horace, with his usual vanity, lays claim to innocence. If, however, we understand it as spoken of that evangelical innocence which comes by faith, how admirably true is the declaration!

I cannot here refrain from presenting to the classical reader an anecdote communicated to me by the late Rev. B. Collins (afterwards Bury) of Bath. He was on a visit to the Rev. Mr. Pentecross of Wallingford; and when in company with that gentleman, and several ministers of the Gospel, he gave them an account of the famous Abbé (afterwards Cardinal) Maury's book on the Eloquence of the Pulpit; wherein the Abbé maintains, that the only way in which we can expect the Gospel to be received with respect by the world, is by cultivating the great talent of elocution. Mr. Pentecross remained silent during the discussion; but, on being asked his opinion, repeated from this Ode, in the original,

Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus
Non eget Mauri-

Perhaps there is not extant a better Latin pun. It also forcibly showed his opinion, that the power and purity of the Gospel did not need such meretricious ornament. 1 Cor. i, 17, 18.

TO A GENTLEMAN, ON THE DEATH OF HIS FATHER.
In Imitation of Horace, lib. i, ode xxiv.

Quis desiderio sit Pudor, &c.

WHAT shame shall stop our flowing tears?
What end shall our just sorrows know?
Since fate, relentless to our prayers,

Has given the long destructive blow!
Ye Muses, strike the sounding string,
In plaintive strains his loss deplore;
And teach an artless voice to sing

The great, the bounteous, now no more!
For him the wise and good shall mourn,
While late records his fame declare;
And, oft as rolling years return,

Shall pay his tomb a grateful tear.

Ah! what avails their plaints to thee?
Ah! what avails his fame declared?
Thou blam'st, alas! the just decree,
Whence virtue meets its just reward.
Though sweeter sounds adorn'd thy tongue
Than Thracian Orpheus whilom* play'd,
When list'ning to the morning song,
Each tree bow'd down its leafy head.

Never! ah, never from the gloom
Of unrelenting Pluto's sway,
Could the thin shade again resume
Its ancient tenement of clay.
Indulgent patience, heaven-born guest!
Thy healing wings around display;
Thou gently calm'st the stormy breast,
And driv'st the tyrant grief away.

Corroding care and eating pain,

By just degrees thy influence own;
And lovely, lasting peace again

Resumes her long-deserted throne.

His parents now invited him to spend some time with them in the country. Accordingly he left Oxford in April, and staid the whole summer at Epworth and Wroote. During this time he usually read prayers and preached twice on the Lord's day, and in various ways assisted his father as occasion required. But he still pursued his studies, had frequent opportunities of conversing with his parents on subjects highly interesting and instructive, and kept a regular diary of what passed. He often takes notice of the particular subjects discussed in their various conversations, and mentions the practical observations his parents made, and sometimes adds his own. Among others, were the following: how to increase our faith, our hope, and our love of God: prudence, simplicity, sincerity, pride, vanity; wit, humour, fancy, courtesy, and general usefulness. His parents made such observations as reflection and long experience had suggested to them, and he carefully minuted down such rules and maxims as appeared to him important.

Mr. Wesley returned to Oxford on the 21st of September, and resumed his usual course of studies. His literary character was now established in the University: he was acknowledged by all parties to be a man of talents, and an excellent critic in the learned languages. His compositions were distinguished by an elegant simplicity of style,

I am sorry this poor quaint word should find its way into lines so serious and so beautiful. Mr. Wesley would not have published it with that blemish.

and justness of thought, that strongly marked his classical taste. His skill in Logic, or the art of reasoning, was universally known and admired. The high opinion that was entertained of him, in these respects, was soon publicly expressed, by choosing him Greek Lecturer and Moderator of the Classes, on the 7th of November; though he had only been elected Fellow of the College in March, was little more than twenty-three years of age, and had not yet proceeded Master of Arts. It has already appeared, that Mr. Wesley's poetical talents were considerable but they now assumed a more serious air. His paraphrase on the first eighteen verses of the 104th Psalm, is a more finished piece than any thing he had written before. He began to write it on the 19th of August this year, when at Epworth; and it well deserves to be printed with accuracy. The original manuscript is now before me.

Verse 1

3

3,4

3

:

PARAPHRASE ON PSALM CIV.

UPBORNE aloft on vent'rous wing,
While, spurning earthly themes, I soar
Through paths untrod before,

What God, what Seraph shall I sing?
Whom but THEE should I proclaim,
Author of this wond'rous frame?
Eternal, uncreated Lord,

Enshrined in glory's radiant blaze!

At whose prolific voice, whose potent word,

Commanded, NOTHING Swift retired, and WORLDS began their race.

Thou, brooding o'er the realms of night,

Th' unbottom'd infinite abyss,

Badest the deep her rage surcease,

And said'st, Let there be light!
Etherial light thy call obey'd,
Glad she left her native shade,

Through the wide void her living waters past;
Darkness turn'd his murmuring head,

Resign'd the reins, and trembling fled;

The crystal waves roll'd on, and fill'd the ambient waste.

In light, effulgent robe, array'd,

Thou left'st the beauteous realms of day;

The golden towers inclined their head,

As their Sovereign took his way.

The all-encircling bounds, (a shining train
Minist'ring flames around him flew,)
Through the vast profound he drew,

When lo! sequacious to his fruitful hand,

Heaven o'er th' uncolour'd void her azure curtain threw.

Lo! marching o'er the empty space,

The fluid stores in order rise,

With adamantine chains of liquid glass,

To bind the new-born fabric of the skies.
Downward th' Almighty Builder rode :
Old Chaos groan'd beneath the God:

Sable clouds his pompous car;
Harness'd winds before him ran,
Proud to wear their Maker's chain,

And told, with hoarse-resounding voice, his coming from afar.

Embryon earth the signal knew,

And rear'd from night's dark womb her infant head,

Though yet prevailing waves her hills o'erspread,

And stain'd their sickly face with pallid hue.

5

6

7

But when loud thunders the pursuit began,

Back the affrighted spoilers ran:

O'er hills and vales with equal haste,
The flying squadrons past,

Till safe within the walls of their appointed place:
There, firmly fix'd, their sure enclosures stand,
Unconquerable bound of ever-during sand!

HE spake! From the tall mountain's wounded side,
Fresh springs rolled down their silver tide;

O'er the glad vales the shining wanderers stray,
Soft Murmuring as they flow,

While in their cooling wave inclining low,

The untaught natives of the field their parching thirst allay.
High-seated on the dancing sprays,

Chequering with varied light their parent streams,

The feather'd quires attune their artless lays,

Safe from the dreaded heat of solar beams.

Genial showers at His command,
Pour plenty o'er the barren land:
Labouring with parent throes,.
See the teeming hills disclose
A new birth; see the cheerful green,
Transitory, pleasing scene,

O'er the smiling landscape glow,
And gladden all the vale below.
Along the mountain's craggy brow,
Amiably dreadful now!

See the clasping vine dispread
Her gently rising, verdant head!
See the purple grape appear,
Kind relief of human care!
Instinct with circling life, THY skill
Uprear'd the olive's loaded bough;
What time, on Lebanon's proud hill,
Slow rose the stately cedar's brow.
Nor less rejoice the lowly plains,

Of useful corn the fertile bed,
Than when the lordly cedar reigns,
A beauteous, but a barren shade.
While in his arms the painted train,
Warbling to the vocal grove,
Sweetly tell their pleasing pain,
Willing slaves to genial love;

While the wild-goats, an active throng,
From rock to rock light-bounding fly,
Jehovah's praise in solemn song

Shall echo through the vaulted sky.

Mr. Wesley was now more desirous than ever of improving his time to the best advantage. As he had not yet taken his Degree of Master of Arts, the whole of his time was not at his own disposal; but those portions of it which were, he carefully spent in pursuit of such knowledge as promised to be beneficial to himself, and would enable him to benefit others he never indulged himself in an idle useless curiosity, which is the common fault of most young men in the conduct of their studies. He expresses his sentiments on this head, in a letter to his mother, of January, 1727. "I am shortly to take my Master's Degree. As I shall from that time be less interrupted by business not of my own choosing, I have drawn up for myself a scheme of studies from which I do not intend, for some years at least, to vary.-I am perfectly come over to your opinion, that there are many truths it is not worth while to know. Curiosity indeed might be a sufficient plea for our laying, out some time upon them, if we had half a dozen centuries of life to come; *When Mr. Wesley was upwards of eighty, he said to me, after he had travelled from Portsmouth to Cobham, in Surrey, which he reached before 1 o'clock :-"We should lose no time,----we have not, like the Patriarchs, 700 or 800 years to play with."