All creating power confess,
All their mighty Maker bless.

Thou shak'st all nature with Thy nod,
Sea, earth, and air confess thee God:
Yet does Thy powerful hand sustain
Both earth and heaven, both firm and main.
Scarce can our daring thoughts arise
To Thy pavilion in the skies;
Nor can Plato's self declare

The bliss, the joy, the rapture there.
Barren above Thou dost not reign,
But circled with a glorious train;
The sons of God, the sons of light,
Ever joying in Thy sight;

(For Thee their silver harps are strung,)
Ever beauteous, ever young,

Angelic forms their voices raise,

And through heaven's arch resound Thy praise.

The feather'd souls that swim the air,

And bathe in liquid ether there,
The lark, precentor of the choir,
Leading them higher still and higher,
Listen and learn; th' angelic notes
Repeating in their warbling throats:
And ere to soft repose they go,
Teach them to their lords below:
On the green turf their mossy nest,
The evening anthem swells their breast.
Thus like thy golden chain from high,
Thy praise unites the earth and sky.

Source of light, Thou bid'st the sun
On his burning axles run;
The stars like dust around him fly,
And strow the area of the sky.
He drives so swift his race above,
Mortals can't perceive him move;
So smooth his course, oblique or straight,
Olympus shakes not with his weight.
As the Queen of solemn Night
Fills at his vase her orbs of light,
Imparted lustre; thus we see

The solar virtue shines by Thee.

Eiresione,* we'll no more
Imaginary power adore ;

Since oil, and wool, and cheerful wine,
And life sustaining bread are Thine.

Thy herbage, O great Pan, sustains
The flocks that graze our Attic plains;
The olive, with fresh verdure crown'd,
Rises pregnant from the ground;

At Thy command, it shoots and springs,
And a thousand blessings brings.
Minerva only is Thy mind,

Wisdom and bounty to mankind.

The fragrant thyme, the bloomy rose,

Herb and flower, and shrub that grows

On Thessalian Tempe's plain,

Or where the rich Sabeans reign,

That treat the taste, or smell, or sight.
For food, or med'cine, or delight,

Planted by Thy parent care,

Spring and smile and flourish there.

*This word signifies a kind of garland composed of a branch of olive, wrapped about with wool, and loaded with all kinds of fruits of the earth, as a token of peace and plenty. The poet says, he will no more worship the imaginary power, supposed to be the giver of these things; but the great Pan, the Creator, from whom they all proceed.

O ye nurses of soft dreams,
Reedy brooks and winding streams,
Or murmuring o'er the pebbles sheen,
Or sliding through the meadows green,
Or where through matted sedge you creep,
Trav'lling to your parent deep;

Sound His praise by whom you rose,
That Sea which neither ebbs nor flows.

O ye immortal woods and groves,
Which the enamour'd student loves;
Beneath whose venerable shade,

For thought and friendly converse made,
Famed Hecadem, old hero lies,
Whose shrine is shaded from the skies,
And through the gloom of silent night
Projects from far its trembling light;
You whose roots descend as low,
As high in air your branches grow;
Your leafy arms to heaven extend,
Bend your heads, in homage bend;
Cedars and pines that wave above,
And the oak beloved of Jove."

Omen, monster, prodigy,
Or nothing are, or Jove, from Thee!
Whether various nature's play,
Or she reversed Thy will obey;
And to rebel man declare

Famine, plague, or wasteful war.

Laugh, ye profane, who dare despise

The threat'ning vengeance of the skies,
Whilst the pious, on his guard,

Undismay'd, is still prepared:

Life or death, his mind 's at rest,'

Since what Thou send'st must needs be best.

No evil can from Thee proceed;
'Tis only suffer'd, not decreed.
Darkness is not from the sun,
Nor mount the shades till he is gone:
Then does night obscene arise
From Erebus, and fill the skies;
Fantastic forms the air invade,
Daughters of nothing and of shade.

Can we forget Thy guardian care,
Slow to punish, prone to spare?
Thou break'st the haughty Persian's pride,
That dared old ocean's power deride;
Their shipwrecks strow'd th' Eubean wave,
At Marathon they found a grave.
O ye blest Greeks, who there expired,
For Greece, with pious ardour fired!
What shrines or altars shall we raise
To secure your endless praise?
Or need we monuments supply,
To rescue what can never die?

And yet a greater Hero far
(Unless great Socrates could err,)
Shall rise to bless some future day,
And teach to live, and teach to pray.

Come, unknown instructer, come!

Our leaping hearts shall make Thee room:
Thou with Jove our vows shall share,
Of Jove and Thee we are the care.

O Father, King, whose heavenly face
Shines serene on all Thy race,
We Thy magnificence adore,
And Thy well-known aid implore;
Nor vainly for thy help we call;
Nor can we want-for Thou art all.

This hymn may throw light on that passage of St. Paul, respecting the heathen, Rom. i, 21, &c. "When they knew God, they glorified him not as God.-Wherefore God gave them up," &c. Their polytheism was a punishment consequent upon their apostasy from the true God.

Every good judge will readily allow that the author of these verses did not want talents for poetry. But wherever we fix his standing in the scale of learning and abilities, he still rises higher by genuine piety, and a firm attachment to justice, mercy, and truth, in various trying situations of life. His integrity was conspicuous, and his conduct uniform. As he had chosen God and his service for his own portion, he also chose the same for his children. When two of his sons, as we shall see, were pursuing a course of piety at Oxford, which threw their future prospects of preferment into a cloud not likely to be dissipated, he encouraged them in it, choosing rather that he and his children should suffer affliction with the people of God, than enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season. Few men have been so diligent in the pastoral office as he was; none perhaps more so. Though his income may be called small, and his family large, he had still something to give to those in distress. In conversation he was grave, yet instructive, lively, and full of anecdote; and this talent the late Mr. John Wesley possessed in a high degree. His last moments were as conspicuous for resignation and Christian fortitude, as his life had been for zeal and diligence. His two sons, Mr. John and Charles Wesley, were both with him when he died, and the latter has given the following interesting account of his death, in a letter to his brother Samuel, dated April 30, 1735.

with

"DEAR BROTHER,-After all your desire of seeing my father alive, you are at last assured you must see his face no more till he is raised in incorruption. You have reason to envy us who could attend him in the last stage of his illness. The few words he could utter I saved, and hope never to forget. Some of them were, 'Nothing is too much to suffer for heaven. The weaker I am in body, the stronger and more sensible support I feel from God. There is but a step between me and death; to-morrow I would see you all with me round this table, that we may once more drink of the cup of blessing, before we drink it new in the kingdom of God. With desire have I desired to eat this passover Jou before I die.' The morning he was to communicate, he was so exceeding weak and full of pain, that he could not without the utmost difficulty receive the elements, often repeating, 'Thou shakest me, thou shakest m;' but immediately after receiving, there followed the most visible altention. He appeared full of faith and peace, which extended even to his body; for he was so much better, that we almost hoped he would have recovered. The fear of death he entirely conquered, and at last gave up his latest human desires-of finishing Job, paying his debts, and seeing you. He often laid his hand upon my head, and said, "Be steady! The Christian Faith will surely revive in this kingdom; you shall see it, though I shall not.' To my sister Emily he said, Do not be concerned at my death: God will then begin to manifest himself to my family.' When we were met about him, his usual expression was, 'Now let me hear you talk of heaven.' On my asking him whether he did not find himself worse, he replied, O my Charles, I feel a great deal; God chastens me with strong pain, but I praise him

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for it, I thank him for it, I love him for it.' On the 25th his voice failed him, and nature seemed entirely spent, when, on my brother's asking, whether he was not near heaven, he answered distinctly, and with the most of hope and triumph that could be expressed in sounds, 'Yes, I am.' He spoke once more, just after my brother had used the commendatory prayer; his last words were, 'Now you have done all !' This was about half an hour after six, from which time till sunset, he made signs of offering up himself, till my brother again having used the commendatory prayer, the very moment it was finished, he expired. His passage was so smooth and insensible, that notwithstanding the stopping of his pulse, and ceasing of all sign of life and motion, we continued over him a considerable time, in doubt whether the soul was departed or not. My mother, who for several days before he died, hardly ever went into his chamber but she was carried out again in a fit, was far less shocked at the news than we expected, and told us that now she was heard, in his having so easy a death, and in her being strengthened so to bear it."

It seems he received "the witness of the Spirit," (which it is almost certain he never believed for till then,) in this holy ordinance, and the fruit evidently followed. He might have received it, as a penitent sinner, believing in the Son of God, who was made sin for him," before he attempted to teach others. But such was not the creed of that day. This good man, therefore, like his excellent partner, laboured in the fear of God, "through a long legal night of nearly seventy years." It is remarkable also, that it was in the Lord's Supper that the Divine Witness was given to both, as we shall see by comparing this account with that to be hereafter given of Mrs. S. Wesley.

It should not be omitted that the famous speech which was delivered in the House of Lords by Dr. Sacheverel, in the reign of Queen Anne, was composed by Mr. Samuel Wesley, as his son Mr. John Wesley informs us, in his History of England.

same

We have thus seen two ministers of the Gospel die; the one a Nonconformist, and the other a High Churchman. As they approach eternity, we see them dropping their singularities of opinion, and coslescing, and becoming one in Christ Jesus. Animated with the sane spirit of devotion, they look up to God as their common Father, through the same Mediator and Saviour; they praise him for the same mecies; and, looking forward to his kingdom and glory with the Aumble confidence, both triumph over death. They give satisfactory vidence, that they were united to Christ, belonged to the same family and were heirs of the same heavenly inheritance, notwithstanding ne external differences in their mode of worship. These considerations should teach us to be careful, not to overvalue those things wherein they differed, nor to exalt the discriminating distinctions o parties into the rank of fundamental doctrines of Christianity.

CHAPTER III.

MRS. SUSANNAH WESLEY, AND HER DAUGHTERS.

MRS. SUSANNAH WESLEY, the Mother of the late Mr. John Wesley, was the youngest daughter of Dr. Samuel Annesley, and a few years younger than her husband. Being educated in a truly religious family, she early imbibed a reverence for religion. Before she was thirteen years old, she had examined the whole controversy between the Dissenters and the Established Church, and from that time became a member of the Church of England. She afterwards examined the evidences of natural and revealed religion with scrupulous attention, and under every article set down the reasons which determined her to believe it. Of these things she speaks thus, in a letter to her son, Samuel Wesley, dated October 11th, 1709.

"There is nothing I now desire to live for, but to do some small service to my children; that, as I have brought them into the world, I may, if it please God, be an instrument of doing good to their souls. I had been several years collecting from my little reading, but chiefly from my own observation and experience, some things which I hoped might be useful to you all. I had begun to correct and form all into a little manual; wherein I designed you should have seen what were the particular reasons which prevailed on me to believe the being of a God, and the grounds of natural* religion, together with the motives that induced me to embrace the faith of Jesus Christ; under which was comprehended my own private reasons for the truth of revealed religion. And because I was educated among the Dissenters, and there was something remarkable in my leaving them at so early an age, not being full thirteen, I had drawn up an account of the whole transaction, under which I had included the main of the controversy between them and the Established Church, as far it had come to my knowledge; and then followed the reasons which had determined my judgment to the preference of the Church of England. I had fairly transcribed a great part of it, when you, writing to me for some directions about receiving the sacrament, I began a short discourse on that subject, intending to send them all together; but before I could finish my design, the flames consumed both this and all my other writings. I would have you, at your leisure, begin to do something like this for yourself, and write down what are the principles on which you build your faith; and though I cannot possibly recover all I formerly wrote, yet I will gladly assist you what I can, in explaining any difficulty that may occur."

In one of her private meditations, she reckons the following among the signal mercies which God had bestowed upon her. "Born in a Christian country: early initiated and instructed in the first principles of the Christian religion: good examples in parents and several of the family good books and ingenious conversation: preserved from ill accidents, once from a violent death: married to a religious orthodox

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* I believe there never was any such thing in the world, excepting only as it may mean that which was not written.

+ When their house was burnt down, in February, 1709.