For more than three years subsequent to this, Wesley kept up a correspondence with Kirkham’s sister, and spoke of her in the tenderest terms. In 1731, their friendship was interrupted. Why? Did the young lady’s father interfere? Or did she herself prefer another? These are questions which it is almost impossible to answer; but it is a significant fact that, though the Kirkham family seems to have consisted of only one son and two daughters, one of those daughters died about twelve months afterwards; she, at the time of her death, bearing the name of Mrs. Wilson. Hence the following extract from a letter, written by Mrs. Pendarves, and dated “Killala, June 28th, 1732.”
“Poor Mrs. Wilson! I am sorry for the shock her death must have given Sally” [Mrs. Chapone] “whose tenderness must sometimes take place of her wisdom; but I hope when she considers the great advantage her sister, in all probability, will receive by the exchange she has lately made, that she will be reconciled to the loss of a sister that has given her more woe than happiness. Pray, has Mrs. Wilson left any children?”
Was Mrs. Wilson the quondam Betsy Kirkham? It is probable she was; for, though Mrs. Pendarves and Mrs. Chapone continued to be the warmest friends for thirty-two years after this, there is not, in the voluminous correspondence of the former, the least allusion to Betsy.
Perhaps these notices of Robert Kirkham’s sisters are hardly relevant; but it must be borne in mind that Kirkham was one of Wesley’s warmest friends, and that he wished to have Wesley for a brother.
As already intimated, of Robert Kirkham himself next to nothing has been published. In a letter to his mother, dated February 28, 1730, three months after the first Methodist meeting in Oxford, Wesley wrote:—
“I have another piece of news to acquaint you with, which, as it is more strange, will, I hope, be equally agreeable. A little while ago, Bob Kirkham took a fancy into his head, that he would lose no more time and waste no more money; in pursuance of which, he first resolved to breakfast no longer on tea; next, to drink no more ale in an evening, or, however, but to quench his thirst; then to read Greek or Latin from prayers in the morning till noon, and from dinner till five at night. And how much may one imagine he executed of these resolutions? Why, he has left off tea, struck off his drinking acquaintances to a man, given the hours above specified to the Greek Testament and Hugo Grotius, and spent the evenings either by himself or with my brother and me.”
This was a brave act. For a frank, frivolous, jovial young fellow like Robert Kirkham, who, in a letter to Wesley, four years before, had told his friend of his revelling over a dish of calves’ head and bacon, and a newly-tapped barrel of excellent cider, now to resolve to live a life like that which Wesley mentions, and to have firmness enough to fulfil his resolution, was no ordinary fact, and indicated a great change in the light-hearted young collegian. Was not this the very commencement of the Methodist organization?
In 1731, Kirkham took his leave of the Oxford brotherhood, to become his uncle’s curate. Where did he live after this? How did he live? When did he die? These are questions which we cannot answer. We have tried to obtain information concerning his subsequent career, but have failed.