01 To His Mother
| Author | John Wesley |
|---|---|
| Type | letter |
| Year | None |
| Passage ID | jw-letter-1732-01-to-his-mother-002 |
| Words | 272 |
When I observe how fast life flies away, and how slow improvement comes, I think one can never be too much afraid of dying before one has learned to live; I mean, even in the course of nature. For were I sure that 'the silver cord' should not be violently 'loosed,' that 'the wheel' should not ' be broken at the cistern,' till it was quite worn away by its own motion, yet what a time would this give for such a work A moment to transact the business of eternity ! What are forty years in comparison of this So that were I sure of what never man yet was sure of, how little would it alter the case! How justly still might I cry out: Downward I hasten to my destined place; There none obtain Thy aid, none sing Thy praise! Soon shall I lie in death's deep ocean drowned: Is mercy there, is sweet forgiveness found O save me yet, while on the brink I stand; Rebuke these storms, and set me safe on land ! O make my longings and Thy mercy sure! Thou art the God of power. Prior's Considerations on Part of the 88th Psalm. A year ago Mr. Morgan was exceedingly well pleased with the thought of dying shortly. He will not now bear to have it named, though he can neither sleep, read, stand, nor sit. Yet without hands, or feet, or head, or heart, he is very sure his illness is not increased. Surely now he is a burthen to himself and almost useless in the world; his discharge cannot be far off.