Wesley Corpus

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!