To his Brother Samuel Date: LINCOLN COLEGE, November 17, 1731. DEAR BROTHER, Considering the other changes that I remember in myself, I shall not at all wonder if the time comes when we differ as little in our conclusions as we do now in our premises. In most we seem to agree already; especially as to rising, not keeping much company, and sitting by a fire, which I always do, if any one in the room does, whether at home or abroad. But these are the very things about which others will never agree with me. Had I given up these, or but one of them rising early, See letter of March 19, 1727. which implies going to bed early (though I never am sleepy now), and keeping so little company not one man in ten of those that are offended at me, as it is, would ever open their mouth against any of the other particulars. For the sake of these, those are mentioned: the root of the matter lies here. Would I but employ a third of my money, and about half my time, as other folks do, smaller matters would be easily overlooked. But I think nil tanti est. 'Nothing is worth such a sacrifice as this.' As to my hair, I am much more sure that what this enables me to do is according to the Scripture than I am that the length of it is contrary to it. See letter of Dec. 5, 1726.

I have often thought of a saying of Dr. Hayward's when he examined me for priest's orders He was ordained priest at Christ Church by Dr. Potter on Sept. 22, 1728.: 'Do you know what you are about You are bidding defiance to all mankind. He that would live a Christian priest ought to know that, whether his hand be against every man or no, he must expect every man's hand should be against him.' It is not strange that every man's hand who is not a Christian should be against him that endeavors to be so. But is it not hard that even those that are with us should be against us that a man's enemies (in some degree) should be those of the same household of faith Yet so it is. From the time that a man sets himself to his business, very many, even of those who travel the same road, many of those who are before as well as behind him, will lay stumbling-blocks in his way. One blames him for not going fast enough; another, for having made no greater progress; another, for going too far, which, perhaps, strange as it is, is the more common charge of the two: for this comes from people of all sorts; not only infidels, not only half Christians, but some of the best of men are very apt to make this reflection: ' He lays unnecessary burdens upon himself; he is too precise; he does what God has nowhere required to be done.' True, He has not required it of those that are perfect; and even as to those who are not, all men are not required to use all means, but every man is required to use those which he finds most useful to himself. And who can tell better than himself whether he finds them so or no ' Who knoweth the things of a man better than the spirit of a man that is in him '

This being a point of no common concern, I desire to explain myself upon it once for all, and to tell you, freely and clearly, those general positions on which I ground (I think) all those practices, for which (as you would have seen, had you read that paper through) I am generally accused of singularity. See letter of July 19.(1) As to the end of my being, I lay it down for a rule that I cannot be too happy, or therefore too holy; and thence infer that the more steadily I keep my eye upon the prize of our high calling the better, and the more of my thoughts, and words, and actions are directly pointed at the attainment Of it. (2) As to the instituted means of attaining it, I likewise lay it down for a rule that I am to use them every time I may. (3) As to prudential means, I believe this rule holds of things indifferent in themselves: whatever I know to do me hurt, that to me is not indifferent, but resolutely to be abstained from; whatever I know to do me good, that to me is not indifferent, but resolutely to be embraced. But it will be said I am whimsical. True; and what then If by whimsical be meant simply singular, I own it: if singular without any reason, I deny it with both my hands, and am ready to give a reason, to any that asks me, of every custom wherein I willfully differ from the world. I grant, in many single actions I differ unreasonably from others; but not willfully: no, I shall extremely thank any one who will teach me to help it. But can I totally help it, till I have more breeding or more prudence to neither of which I am much disposed naturally; and I greatly fear my acquired stock of either will give me small assistance.

I have but one thing to add, and that is as to my being formal. If by that be meant that I am not easy and unaffected enough in my carriage, it is very true; but how shall I help it I cannot be genteelly behaved by instinct; and if I am to try after it by experience and observation of others, that is not the work of a month but of years. If by formal be meant that I am serious, this too is very true; but why should I help it Mirth, I grant, is fit for you; but does it follow that it is fit for me Are the same tempers, any more than the same words or actions, fit for all circumstances If you are to 'rejoice evermore' because you have put your enemies to flight, am I to do the same while they continually assault me You are glad, because you are 'passed from death to life'; well, but let him be afraid who knows not whether he is to live or die. Whether this be my condition or no, who can tell better than myself Him who can, whoever he be, I allow to be a proper judge whether I do well to be generally as serious as I can. John Whitelamb wants a gown much, and I am not rich enough to buy him one at present. If you are willing my twenty shillings (that were) should go toward that, I will add ten to them, and let it lie till I have tried my interest with my friends to make up the price of a new one. I am, dear brother, Yours and my sister's affectionate Brother. The Rector Euseby Isham, 1731-55. is much at your service. I fancy I shall some time or other have much to say to you about him. All are pretty well at Epworth, my sister Molly Mary Wesley, who married John Whitelamb in 1734 and died the same year. See letter of Oct. 4, 1769. says. From Ann Granville 8 GLOUCASTER, December 1, 1731

It is very unwillingly that I have been so long prevented thanking Cyrus for the last proof of his friendship, though you have reason to be glad of it; for my letters are so trifling, that you show the most good nature and humility in the world to suffer my correspondence. I hope in time to be more worthy of it; nothing will be more conducive to it than the advantage of such an instructor. I can't help believing my friend is the better for your good and kind advice. She has not mentioned anything upon that subject in her last letters, but says her spirits are more lively, and she enters a little into the diversions of the Bath, which at first she was quite averse to; for I fancy the more satisfied one is with oneself, the more cheerfully may one partake of the innocent entertainments of the world. How far, indeed, and what sort of diversions are the most allowable and consistent with one's duty, is what I would fain be satisfied in. Suppose I go every week to an assembly, play at cards two or three hours, if I omit no duty by it, is it a fault or would it be in an older person than myself though I don't think being young exempts me from any good or religious act. You see, Cyrus, how freely I expose to you all my errors, all my scruples; and though I expose the weakness of judgment, yet I show how desirous I am to' reform my will and rectify my thought': for sure, the active principle within is worth improvement; you have confirmed me in the inclination of doing it have already, and I hope will continue to assist me in it. I shall be extremely thankful for that scheme of books you mention. See letter of Aug. 14. Oh that I could make as good a use of them as the person it was made for I What happiness is it to have those we love follow after virtue! and how sensible an affliction to see them forsake those paths which can alone make them happy! That is a pain Cyrus has not, and I hope will never know, any otherways than the general benevolence he has for all his fellow creatures makes him grieve when they do miss.

Now give me leave to say that I can't find out the advantage of losing the conversation of particular sensible and virtuous friends. Their words, their example excite us on to goodness; they blow up and keep alive those sparks of religion which are too apt (with sorrow I speak it) to grow faint and languid. I can recollect many instances where they have been of advantage to me. At church their attention has increased mine. At home they have begun good conversations that I have been the better for; as we were often together, we used to assist each other in bearing a multitude of impertinence that I am now forced to support singly. Now, have I not more reason to imagine 'twas rather for their good than mine that they were removed Now, I fear I show great arrogance to deny anything you say, but I only make this objection in order to be more fully convinced. No one can do it so soon as Cyrus. His arguments are so plain and sensible, and withal so well expressed, they please the fancy while they inform the understanding; which is what I very seldom have met with before, most instructive things being dry and tedious at least to me, who cannot, like my dear Sappho, search for through all her obscure recesses. I am now reading a book I want your opinion of. 'Tis Mr. Burkitt's Explanation of the New Testament; he calls it Expository Notes with Practical Observations. Sure Cyrus cannot sit without a fire this weather. I hope the good Society prospers; one way I'm sure they do. I often think of them, especially when the cold makes me shrink. They are those that are chosen of peculiar grace; the influence of it will, I hope, extend to their weaker brethren. The last letter I had from Aspasia she said she was very much concerned she had not writ to you, and desired me to assure the good brothers of her friendship and good wishes, as does my mother, who is very much out of order with a cold. The last time I heard from Sappho she was well. Is not Araspes' hymn quite charming You have not sent your poetic herd so far but you can call them in whenever you please.

Cyrus may be certain I shall never forget him in the only way I can show my gratitude to him. Oh that I had reason to think my prayers would be as efficacious as his without doubt are l What is uttered with so much real piety must be successful for himself and for his friends. There I hope he will always place