Wesley before he rode into Hull.

Punctuality was one of Mr. Wesley's strongest points. He could never
bear to be a minute behind time. Once, when his carriage did not come
punctually, he was heard to say: "I have lost ten minutes for ever."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Going to sleep.--How John Wesley missed his
brother.--A good man's tears.--Getting old.--Mr.
Wesley's text for the children.--Last words in
Manchester.--In Colchester.--A dinner-hour
meeting.--The old ash tree.

NOW I must come to what seems to the young a very sad time. When we are
strong and healthy, and can enjoy all the things God has given us to
enjoy in this beautiful world, death does seem very sad and sorrowful.
But think, dear young readers, how you feel when you have been playing
hard all day, or working at school, and perhaps gone to a party in the
evening and have not got to bed until 10 o'clock. Is it not very nice
and very comforting to lay your head on your soft pillow and go to
sleep? Now this is just how God's people feel when they are tired of
life's work, they just close their eyes and fall asleep, "asleep in
Jesus." This is how Mr. Charles Wesley passed away when he was eighty
years old. Though four years younger than Mr. John, he seemed the older
man, for he had been weak and infirm for a long time. The two brothers
had loved each other dearly, and Mr. Wesley felt very lonely when
"Charlie" died.

Three weeks afterwards, Mr. Wesley, preaching at Bolton, gave out for
his second hymn No. 140, a hymn composed by Mr. Charles. He tried to
read the first verse, but when he came to the words

"My company before is gone,
And I am left alone with Thee,"

he could get no further, but just burst into tears, and sat down in the
pulpit, burying his face in his hands. The singing ceased, and numbers
of the congregation wept in sympathy at sight of their dear leader's
sorrow. At last Mr. Wesley recovered himself, and went on with the
service, which was never forgotten by any of those who were present.

Very soon after this, Mr. Wesley began to feel weak and feeble. Again
his birthday month came round, the sunny month of June, and on the 17th
he wrote: "I am eighty-six to-day, and I find I grow old. My eyes are so
dim that no spectacles will help me, and I cannot read small print
except in a very strong light. My strength fails me