To 1773
| Author | John Wesley |
|---|---|
| Type | journal |
| Year | None |
| Passage ID | jw-journal-1760-to-1773-507 |
| Words | 368 |
It surely contains many
excellent things. Yet I cannot but think the fever he had
twenty years ago, when he supposes he was “introduced into
the society of angels,” really introduced him into the society
of lunatics; but still there is something noble, even in his
ravings:
His mind has not yet lost
All its original brightness, but appears
Majestic, though in ruin. Mon. 16.--I rode to Dorking, where were many people;
but none were cut to the heart. Tuesday, 17. I went on to
Ryegate-Place. In King Henry the Fourth’s time, this was
an eminent monastery. At the dissolution of monasteries,
it fell into the hands of the great spoiler, Henry the Eighth. Queen Elizabeth, pleased with the situation, chose it for one
of her palaces. The gentleman who possesses it now has
entirely changed the form of it; pulling down whole piles of
ancient building, and greatly altering what remains. Yet,
after all that is taken away, it still looks more like a palace
than a private house. The stair-case is of the same model
with that at Hampton-Court: One would scarce know
which is the original. The chimney-piece in the hall is
probably one of the most curious pieces of wood-work now
in the kingdom. But how long? How many of its once
bustling inhabitants are already under the earth ! And how
little a time will it be before the house itself, yea, the earth,
shall be burned up ! I preached in the evening to a small company, on, “It is
appointed unto men once to die.” All seemed moved for the
present. They saw that life is a dream: But how soon will
they sleep again? Wednesday, 18. I preached to another
kind of congregation at Shoreham. Here we are not ploughing
upon the sand. Many have “received the seed upon good
ground,” and do “bring forth fruit with patience.”
Sat. 21.--I met an old friend, James Hutton, whom I had
not seen for five-and-twenty years. I felt this made no differ. Jan. 1772.] JOURNAL. 451
ence; my heart was quite open; his seemed to be the same;
and we conversed just as we did in 1738, when we met in
Fetter-Lane.