[From the Rev. Mr. B-ge, to the Rev. Mr. Wesley.] Everton, Jan. 1, 1768.

Dear Sir,

See no reason why we fhould keep at a distance, whilft we continue fervants of the fame Mafter; and especially when Lot's herdfmen are fo ready to lay their flaves on our fhoulders. Though my hand has been mute, my heart is kindly affected towards you. I truft we agree in Effentials, and therefore fhould leave each other at reft with his Circumftantials. I am weary of all disputes, and defire to know nothing but Jefus; to love him, trust in him, and serve him; to chufe and find him my only portion: I would have him my meat, my drink, my clothing, my fun, my fhield, my Lord, my God, my All. Amen.

When I faw you in town, I gave you an invitation to Everton; and I now repeat it, offering you very kindly the ufe of my house and church. The Lord accompany you in all your journies. Kind love to your Brother. Adieu.

LETTER

J. B—GE.

CCCXXI.

[From Mr. John Dillon, to the Rev. Mr. Welley.]

Rev. Sir,

Augher, Feb. 14, 1768.

WHE

WHEN I came firft into this Circuit, the want of health, the exceeding bad beds, damp rooms, and hardly food to fupport my body, was a trial to me. But, O, how can the Lord make hard things easy! For I had not been there long before I was quite willing to fpend and be spent for the fake of the people. Indeed I have long thought that poverty, with real fimplicity and the love of God, is

much

much fafer than the greatest affluence without it. I am, through mercy, given to fee clearly, that the bufiness of a Preacher of the gospel is not to mind (though he cannot do without them) what he fhall eat or drink, or how he shall lie, &c. but how he fhall fave fouls, and for that end become all things to all men, fo he may gain fome.

I have often preached three times a day, yet I have several invitations to fresh places, and believe there might be much good done if they could have conftant preaching. I have been at S― in my way to Derry, and had many hearers, who defired to hear us again. Why may not good be done here, though they are in general Arians? If they were devils, with a poffibility of being faved by Christ, surely the gofpel fhould be preached to them. I find a great desire to go to new places, where the gospel has not yet been preached; but am almost constantly afraid of having my brains beat out; fo that I frequently labour in much heaviness.

O that God would deliver me from needlefs fears, and help me to add to my Faith, Courage! What a fhame is it, that I who have been preserved amidst showers of cannon-balls and bomb-fhells, fhould now fear!

Some time ago I was brought before the Provost of Inniskillen, by a Clergyman, for preaching. I was near three hours with him and one or two Clergymen more, and a whole room full of Ladies, &c. The Clergyman took mè by the hand; wifhed me good luck; bid me God speed; and defired me to preach hell and damnation every where: and faid, "If you are the real fervants of God, fent forth to convert the world, I wish myself, with all my brethren who oppose you, seven feet under ground."

I am, Rev. Sir, yours, &c.

VOL. VI.

4 F

JOHN DILLON.

POETRY.

POETRY.

An INVITATION in WINTER.

[To Mifs SMITH, of B-]

OW hoary Winter, with refiftless power,

NOW

Clasps fhivering Nature in his aged arms;

The meads difrobéd of every plant and flower,
With gloomy afpect mourn their ravagéd charms.

The towering elms, which grace yon mountain's brow,
Bend to the wild winds o'er the threatening fteep;
White wave the woods beneath involving fnow,
And in their caves the frozen Naiads sleep.

The crystal brooks, with icy fetters bound,

No more foft-murmering foothe the pains of love; Nor moffey banks, with verdant poplars crowned. Invite Menalcas to the mufeful grove.

Yet, Winter, thee my tranquil thoughts approve,
Though void of every gay alluring grace;
O'er thy dread fcenes my fancy joys to rove,
And the wild ruins of thy reign to trace.

Thus, though the warblers of the vernal year
Droop, and cling lifeless to the naked spray;
Yet the fweet Red-breaft deems thee not fevere,
But to the lone woods pours his cheerful lay.

Unchangéd,

Unchanged, the pine and laurel rear their heads,
The conflant yew extends its welcome shade;
Though laughing flowers no more perfume the meads,
No more the fun-beams dance along the glades,

All hail! ye pleasures, permanent as great,
Which in the wreck of time, and nature please:
The kind companion, and the ftill retreat,
Where all is virtue, harmony and ease.

The focial converfe of a friend fincere,

Difpels the terrors of the darkest storm; Delights, when vernal beauties disappear,

And day ungenial the dull year deform.

Then, dear Amanda, blefs my humble dome,
Sweet Friendship's glow fhall brighten every eye;
With thee fhall Mirth and generous Freedom come,
And anxious Care at thy appearance fly.

Oh! how fuperior thefe domeftic joys,

To what the world calls pleasure, pomp and state;
Where Envy blafts not, nor Diftruft annoys,
Nor falfe diffèmblers flatter those they hate.

To ftreams of living water led,
Their tears are wiped away;

With love and joy they all are fed,
Through one eternal day.

There fhall I know, as I am known,
Whom here unfeen I love;

And all his great falvation own,
Through flaming worlds above.

WH

Another.

[By the fame.]

HO is this mighty Conqueror, who, That all my foes fhall foon fubdue? Shall bruise them all beneath my feet,

And make my foul for glory meet?

The God of power, the God of love,
Who rules o'er all, beneath, above;
He foon fhall quell my every foe,
And give me all his love to know:

Preferve, by his almighty power,
In every dark, distressing hour;
Till all renewed in love I rife,

To claim my manfions in the fkies.

There I fhall in his prefence stand,

And reap the joys at his right hand;
Then range through every golden ftreet,
And fhout with all the faints I meet.

Walk in the light that flows from God,
Enjoy the bleffings bought with blood;
For ever caft
my crown before

My God, and filently adore.

An

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