Built immovably secure,
Built eternal in the skies.
High on Thy great white throne,
O King of saints, come down;
In the New Jerusalem
Now triumphantly descend;
Let the final trump proclaim
Joys begun which ne’er shall end.”
Such was Charles Wesley’s happy, hopeful, buoyant spirit, when all around him were well-nigh paralysed with fear.
During this earthquake commotion, the once gay and sprightly, but for long, long years, the cruelly treated and broken hearted Mehetabel Wesley was taken to the peace and purity of heaven. Of all the Wesley children, none were gifted with finer poetic genius than she. An unhappy marriage with an ignorant, drunken, brutal glazier, of the name of Wright, clouded, with distressing darkness, a life which ought to have been full of sunshine and of happiness. At the time of her peaceful death, Wesley was in Wales; but his brother had the mournful pleasure of repeatedly seeing her in her last sickness, of following her to her quiet grave, and of improving her blissful release from the sorrows of an afflicted life, by preaching from the text: “Thy sun shall no more go down, neither shall thy moon withdraw itself; for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended.” She died on the 21st of March, in the fifty-third year of her age.