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Wesley in Winchester Cathedral

Tuesday, October 1.--I went on to Salisbury. Wednesday, 2. I preached at Whitchurch; Thursday, 3, at Winchester. I now found time to take a view of the cathedral. Here the sight of that bad Cardinal's tomb, whom the sculptor has placed in a posture of prayer, brought to my mind those fine lines of Shakespeare, which he put into the mouth of King Henry the Sixth:

Lord Cardinal,

If thou hast any Hope of heaven's grace,

Give us a sign. He dies, and makes no sign.

On Thursday and Friday evening I preached at Portsmouth Common. Saturday, 5. I set out at two. About ten some of our London friends met me at Cobbam, with whom I took a walk in the neighboring gardens, inexpressibly pleasant through the variety of hills and dales and the admirable contrivance of the whole. And now, after spending his life in bringing it to perfection, the grey-headed owner advertises it to be sold! Is there anything under the sun that can satisfy a spirit made for God?

Wednesday, 16.--I preached at South Lye. Here it was that I preached my first sermon, six-and-forty years ago. One man was in my present audience who heard it. Most of the rest are gone to their long home.

Wednesday, 30.--l walked over to Winchelsea from Rye, said to have been once a large city with abundance of trade and of inhabitants, the sea washing the foot of the hill on which it stands. The situation is exceedingly bold, the hill being high and steep on all sides. But the town is shrunk almost into nothing, and the seven churches into half a one. I preached at eleven in the new square to a considerable number of serious people; and at Rye in the evening where were many that are "not far from the kingdom of God."

Tuesday, November 5.--In our way to Bury we called at Felsham, near which is the seat of the late Mr. Reynolds. The house is, I think, the best contrived and the most beautiful I ever saw. It has four fronts, and five rooms on a floor, elegantly, though not sumptuously, furnished. At a small distance stands a delightful grove. On every side of this, the poor rich man, who had no hope beyond the grave, placed seats, to enjoy life as long as he could. But being resolved none of his family should be "put into the ground," he built a structure in the midst of the grove, vaulted above and beneath, with niches for coffins, strong enough to stand for ages. In one of these he had soon the satisfaction of laying the remains of his only child; and two years after, those of his wife. After two years more, in the year 1759, having eaten, and drunk, and forgotten God for eighty-four years, he went himself to give an account of his stewardship.

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