“Being convinced, that, I cannot possibly oblige you any longer, by anything I can say or do, I have determined to rid you of so useless a burden, as soon as it shall please God to give me an opportunity. If you have so much humanity left for a wife, who has lived so many years with you, as to allow anything toward a maintenance, I will thank you.”
“I conjure you to tell what fatal delusion could make me offend a person whom, of all creatures upon earth, I desired most to please. I shall be exceedingly obliged to you, if you will be so good as to satisfy me in this particular. But, be that as it may, whether you think fit to grant or deny my request, one thing I must inform you of, which is, that, I never can, so long as I am in my senses, wilfully bring any evil upon you. No, death itself does not appear so shocking to me, as endeavouring to lay you under any other obligation than those of conscience and honour. For which reason, I design to put myself again absolutely in your power. If you make a kind use of that power, I shall thank God and you. If not, the time is very short that I can stay on this side the grave; and in the same sentiments that I have lived, I trust, it will be given me to die.”
It is hardly necessary to give further details of this memorable woman. Enough has been said, to show, that, Westley Hall’s infamous behaviour was not owing to the character or conduct of his wife. We only add an extract from a manuscript, now before us, written by her niece, Miss Sarah Wesley, with whom she lived on the most loving and confidential terms. Miss Wesley, daughter of Charles, observes:—
“Dr. Johnson was an early friend of hers; to her my father owed his acquaintance with the Doctor, and I, the honour of his favour. I used to accompany her to Bolt Court, and had the privilege of hearing their discourse.
“Her whole character was eminent for magnanimity and tenderness. When her unfortunate husband contended for the lawfulness of polygamy, and acted on his erroneous principles, in all her expostulations, she never lost her command of language, or gave him a reproachful word.
“She was particularly distinguished with favour, by my grandmother, for her docile and tranquil spirit; and her brothers and sisters nick-named her the patient Grisele. Such was her attachment to my uncle John, that, if she was in any pain or trouble in her infant days, the sight of him would instantly cheer her. I never heard of so strong an affection, which lasted toward him through life. My grandmother once entered the room, where the children were in high glee and frolic, and said, ‘Ah, you will all, one day, be more thoughtful, as you grow in years.’ Martha replied, ‘Shall I be more thoughtful?’ ‘No,’ said her mother. Indeed, by all that I have heard, she was born a philosopher, and preferred her mother’s chamber to sports or recreations, which naturally endeared her to the parent, whom she almost idolized.
“Were I to relate the instances of her kindness to me, I could fill a book. No parent’s love could exceed hers. It was a joyful day whenever I was to spend it with her. Even my brothers looked forward with delightful anticipation, when her weekly visit was to be paid us (for one day of the week was appropriated by my father to receive her). Her conversation so far resembled my uncle’s, that, children idolized her; and her memory, to the last, supplied the place of books. She had the best of our poets by heart; and her mode of giving advice was so gentle, that offence could not be taken. Her compassion and charity to the poor were such, that, my father used to say, it was needless to give anything to Pat for her own comfort; she always gave it away to some beggar, and forgot herself.
“I was with her at her death. Composed and tranquil, she reasoned about every pain, as occasioning it, with the same serenity she would have spoken of common things. She had no disease, but the springs of life were worn out. A little before her departure, she called me to her bedside, and said, ‘You have heard me wish for assurance,’ (of happiness, she meant), ‘I have it now. Shout!’ and died!”
Mrs. Hall was the last survivor of the Wesley family,—her father, mother, brothers, and sisters having all died before her. In the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1791, there is the following obituary notice.