To his Mother Date: LINCOLN COLLEGE, March 19, 1727. DEAR MOTHER, One advantage at least my degree has given me: I am now at liberty, and shall be in a great measure for some time, to choose my own employment; and as I believe I know my own deficiencies best and which of them are most necessary to be supplied, I hope my time will turn to somewhat better account than when it was not so much in my own disposal. On Saturday next I propose beginning an entirely different life, with relation to the management of my expenses, from what I have hitherto done. I expect then to receive a sum of money, Probably from his Fellowship, at which time he may have received some allowance. See letter of Dec. 6, 1726. and intend immediately to call in all my creditors' bills (that they may not grow by lying by, as it sometimes happens), and from that time forward to trust no man, of what sort or trade so ever, so far as to let him trust me.

Dear mother, I speak what I know: my being little and weak, whereas had it not been for a strange concurrence of accidents (so called in the language of men) I should very probably have been just the reverse, I can easily account for; 'I can readily trace the wisdom and mercy of Providence in allotting me these imperfections. (Though what if I could not since, while I look through a glass, I can only expect to see darkly.) But here the difficulty was likely to lie: Why would Infinite Goodness permit me to contract an habit of sin, even before I knew it to be sinful, which has been a thorn in my side almost ever since 'How can I skill of these Thy ways' so well, that I am verily persuaded, had it not been for that sinful habit, I had scarce ever acquired any degree of any virtuous one 'How can I skill of these Thy ways ' is adapted from George Herbert's The Temple, ' Justice.' See Wesley's edition, 1773, P. 19. The poem begins: 'I cannot skill of these Thy ways,' and ends 'I cannot skill of these my ways.' Is not this the finger of God Surely none else could have extracted so much good from evil! surely it was mercy not to hear my prayer!

The conversation of one or two persons whom you may have heard me speak of (I hope never without gratitude) first took off my relish for most other pleasures .so far that I despised them in comparison of that. From thence I have since proceeded a step farther to slight them absolutely. And I am so little at present in love with even company, the most elegant entertainment next books, that unless they have a peculiar turn of thought I am much better pleased without them. I think 'tis the settled temper of my soul that I should prefer, at least for some time, such a retirement as would seclude me from all the world to the station I am now in. Not that the latter is by any means unpleasant; but I imagine it would be more improving to be in a place where I might confirm or implant in my mind what habits I would without interruption before the flexibility of youth is over, than to stay where, among many advantages, I lie under the inconvenience of being almost necessarily exposed to much impertinence and vanity. A school in Yorkshire, forty miles from Doncaster, was proposed to me lately, on which I shall think more when it appears whether I may have it or no. A good salary is annexed to it; so that in a year's time 'tis probable all my debts would be paid, and I should have money beforehand. But what has made me wish for it most is the frightful description, as they call it, some gentlemen who know the place gave me of it yesterday. The town (Skipton-in-Craven) The Grammar School at Skiptonin-Craven was founded in 1548 by William Ermystead, Canon of St. Paul's, London. See Potts's Liber Cantabrigiensis, p. 523. lies in a little vale, so pent up between two hills that it is scarce accessible on any side; so that you can expect little company from without, and within there is none at all. I should therefore be entirely at liberty to converse with companions of my own choosing, whom for that reason I would bring with me; and company equally agreeable, wherever I fixed, could not put me to less expense. The sun that walks his airy way To cheer the world and bring the day; The moon that shines with borrowed light; The stars that grid the gloomy night,-

All of these, and all I see, Should be sung, and sung by me: These praise their Maker as they can, But want and ask the tongue of man. Parnell's A Hymn to Contentment; where the second line reads ' To light the world and give the day. The text of that sermon I preached on the Sunday following Mr. Griffiths's death was, ' Now he is dead, wherefore should I fast can I bring him back again I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.' See previous letter. I never gave more reason to suspect my doctrine did not agree with my practice; for a sickness and pain in my stomach, attended with a violent looseness, which seized me the day he was buried, altered me so much in three days, and made me look so pale and thin, that those who saw me could not but observe it. A letter from my sister Emly, my brother tells me, was brought to my chamber the other day; but wherever the fellow laid it, I have not been able to set eyes upon it from that time to this. I am full of business; but have found a way to write without taking any time from that. 'Tis but rising an hour sooner in a morning and going into company an hour later in 'the evening; both which may be done without any inconvenience. For an account of his early rising. see the sermon on Redeeming' the Time in Works, vii. 69. My brother has got the other side away from me. I am Your affectionate, dutiful Son. I return you thanks for your thoughts on Zeal, and my sister Emly for hers on I know not what; however, I am persuaded they were very good. My love attends my other sisters. I should have said brother Charles' too; for now he has a live manhood. There is a tear in the letter which makes the last two words difficult to decipher. ' Live manhood ' seems to be the expression. Charles was now nineteen. He had been elected to Christ Church in April 1726, and was now with his brother, no longer a schoolboy, but enjoying his live 'manhood.'