Wesley Corpus

About this time a letter was wrote to that venerable old man, Mr. Perronet, Vicar of Shoreham, informing him, that there was a valuable estate at his native place, which properly belonged to him, and which might easily be recovered, if he sent one of his sons to claim it. All his friends whom he consulted on the occasion judged this information was not to be slighted; and his youngest son, Mr. William Perronet, was willing to undertake the journey. But before he set out, he wrote to Mr. Fletcher, desiring his advice. Part of his answer was as follows: “NYoN, June 2, 1778. “WHILE I write to you to make your title clear to a precarious estate on earth, permit me to remind you of the heavenly inheritance entailed upon believers. The Will (the New Testament) by which we can recover it is proved; the Court is equitable, the Judge loving and gracious. To enter on the possession of part of the estate here, and of the whole here after, weneed only to believe, and prove evangelically that we are believers. Let us set about it now with earnestness, with perse verance, and with full assurance that through grace we shall carry our point. Alas, what are estates or crowns, to grace and glory? The Lord grant we may all choose the better part ! “Since I wrote last, in order to shorten my journey, I ventured to cross the mountains, which separate France from this country. But on the third day, I found an unexpected trial; a hill, which we were to ascend by a winding road, but so steep, that the horses were hardly able to draw the empty chaise. This obliged me to walk, in the steepest places, for several hours together. The sun was hot. I perspired violently, and the next day I spat blood again. But having kept to asses’ milk ever since, I am (blessed be God) much better. “This country is delightful. I invite you to come and see it, and share a delightful apartment. I design to try this fine air some months longer. We have a fine shady wood near the lake, where I can ride in the cool all the day, and enjoy the singing of a multitude of birds. But this, though sweet, does not come up to the singing of my dear friends in England.