“I am an implement that’s common, Much occupied by man and woman; Not very thick, nor very long, Yet tolerably stiff and strong. If inches twelve may give content, That measures much about my stent. Sometimes I’m only used for pleasure, And then I’m jaded out of measure; If a young, vigorous bard employs me, Egad, e’en to the stumps he tries me; A parson to get one in ten In private plies me now and then; The lawyer, and the doctor too, For fees will wear me black and blue. I have a dribbling at the nose, Which leaves a stain where’er it goes, And yet the fairest nymph will use me, The queen herself will not refuse me. I’m used by numbers of all arts, Who would be reckon’d men of parts; And none esteems a lady polish’d Who has not often me demolish’d; And let me tell you, by the by, A minute’s labour drains me dry; I’m now exhausted, so have done; Now who, or what I am make known.” ----- But to return to the parents of this gifted woman:—Very soon after their settlement at Epworth, Susannah Wesley was bereaved, by death, of her sister Dunton. Her father died just before the removal to Epworth; her sister just after. This double bereavement was a most painful trial. Elizabeth Dunton, like her sister Susannah Wesley, was a remarkable woman. From her childhood she was pious. She was so thoroughly acquainted with the Holy Scriptures, that, if any text was quoted, she could at once tell the book, chapter, and verse where it might be found. For nearly twenty years, she kept a diary, and wrote so copiously, that her experiences and meditations, if printed, would have filled a folio. “She was a lover of solitude; and Sabbaths, sermons, and sacraments were the best refreshments she met with in her way to glory. Her mind was always full of charity towards those who might differ from her in matters of opinion. She loved the image of Christ wherever it was formed. In her last sickness, which lasted about seven months, she never uttered a repining word; and throughout the whole there was no doubt upon her spirit as to her future happiness. Among her last utterances were the following:—‘Heaven will make amends for all; it is but a little while before I shall be happy. I have good ground to hope that when I die, through Christ, I shall be blessed. It is a solemn thing to die. Oh, this eternity! There is no time for preparing for heaven like youth. I look back with joy on some of the early years that I sweetly spent in my father’s house. Oh, what a mercy it is to be dedicated to God betimes!’”[113]