ing remembrance of her in your kind letter, and will help me to welcome you to the little hermitage we spoke of last year in London, if your ladyship's health or taste should call you to retire awhile from the hurry of the town." In about a year and two months after, he says, in a letter to Mr. Charles Wesley."I have strength enough to do my duty without a curate. I thank you for the hint about exemplifying the love of Christ and his church. I hope we do. I was afraid at first to say much of the matter; for new married people do not at first know each other; but having now been fourteen months in my new state, I can tell you, Providence has reserved a prize for me, and that my wife is far better to me, than the church is to Christ; so that if the parallel fail, it will be on my side." Though Mr. Fletcher had changed his state there was no change in himself, except from one degree of grace to another: his zeal was unaabated and his diligence unrelaxed. His path shone brighter and brighter unto the perfect day. Every part of the Christian character was displayed in him with extraordinary lustre ; but our limits will only allow us to notice one point, namely, his deadness to the world. If he had been mindful to lay up treasure on earth, he had many opportunities of succeeding; his estate was more than one hundred a year, which at that period, in Switzerland, was, perhaps, equal to three hundred in England at the present day. The living at Madeley was to him about one hundred pounds per annum; others would have made more of it, but there were many of the people called Quakers in the parish, who refused to pay tythe, and he never enforced his claim. He might have had preferment in the church, if he would have accepted of it. His writings were numerous, they had an extensive sale, and in a very short time passed through several editions; and by this means he might have acquired considerable wealth He had likewise a considerable accession of property by his marriage, and at the same time what he expended on himself was always extremely small. But whatever he could spare he gave away, and was humble enough to receive a present of cloth for a coat, from a person who saw he had need of one. Mrs. Fletcher says, "Whether he had less or more, it was the same thing on his own account, as he had no other use for it, but to spread the gospel, and to assist the poor. And he frequently said, he never was happier than when he had given away the last penny he had in the house. If he could find a handful of small silver, when he was going out to see the sick, he would express as much pleasure over it, as a miser would in discovering a bed of hidden treasure. He was never better pleased with my employment, than when he had set me to prepare food or physic for the poor. He was hardly able to relish his dinner, if some sick neighbour had not a part of VOL. I. it and sometimes, if any of them was in want, I could not keep his linen in his drawers. Once, a poor man being brought into great difficulties, he took down all the pewter from the kitchen shelves, saying this will help you, and I can do without it." IS. The time now drew near, when his faith was to be put to the last exercise. July 19th, 1785, about three weeks before his death, and a fortnight before he was taken ill, he wrote as follows to Mr. Ireland, "Blessed be God we are still alive, and enjoy a degree of health. About a week ago, I was tried to the quick by a fever, with which my dear wife was afflicted two persons whom she had visited having been carried off, within a pistol shot of our house, I dreaded her being the third. But the Lord hath heard our prayers, and she is spared. O, what is life! On what a slender thread hangs everlasting things! My comfort, however, is, that this thread is as strong as the will of God, and the word of his grace, which cannot be broken." "On Thursday, August 4," says Mrs. Fletcher, "he was employed in the work of the Lord from three in the afternoon till nine at night. When he came home he said 'I have taken cold,' but seemed not to regard it. He was far from well on Friday, and on Saturday night his fever appeared very strong. I begged that he would by no means think of going to church in the morning, but he told me it was the will of the Lord!'" This was his last appearance in public. He opened the reading service with apparent strength; but before he had proceeded far in it, his countenance changed, and his speech began to falter. A deep solicitude was painted on every face, and murmurs of distress ran through the congregation. In the midst of this affecting scene, Mrs. Fletcher was seen pressing through the crowd, and entreating him no longer to attempt what appeared impracticable; but the windows being opened he appeared to be a little refreshed, and began to preach with a strength and recollection that surprised all present. After sermon, he walked up to the communion-table, where the same distressing scene was renewed with additional solemnity. The people were deeply affected while they beheld him offering up the last remains of a life that had been lavishly spent in their service. Groans and tears were on every side. After several times sinking on the sacramental table, he still resumed his sacred work, and cheerfully distributed the memorials of his dying Lord. Having struggled through a service of nearly four hours' continuance, he was supported from the altar to his chamber, where he lay for some time in a swoon, and from whence he never again walked into the world. "After some time," says Mrs. Fletcher, "he dropped into a sleep, and, on waking, cried out with a smile, 'Now, my dear, thou seest I am no worse for doing the Lord's work!' At night his fever returned, but it was not violent; yet his strength decreased amazingly. On Monday and Tuesday we had a little paradise together. He lay on a couch in the study, and was sweetly pleasant, and frequently slept a good while together. When he was awake he delighted in hearing me read hymns and treatises on faith and love. His words were animating, and his patience beyond expression. On Wednesday he told me he had received such a manifestation of the meaning of these words, 'God is Love!' as he could never be able to express. On Thursday he broke out into a rapture, saying 'God is love, love, love! On Friday, observing his body covered with spots, I felt a sword pierce through my soul. As I was kneeling by his bed side, with my hand in his, entreating the Lord to be with us in this tremendous hour, he strove to say many things but could not articulate. At last he breathed out, 'Head of the Church be Head to my wife!' On Saturday, in the afternoon, his fever seemed quite gone, and a few friends standing round his bed, he reached his hand to each. Looking on a minister, he said, ' are you ready to assist to-morrow?' One said, 'do you think the Lord will raise you up?' He answered, as well as he was able,- Raise me up in the Resurrection!' In the evening the fever returned; his speech seemed quite gone, but on my saying, 'art thou in pain" he answered 'No!' From that time he lay in a kind of sleep, with his eyes open, and his countenance remarkably composed; eighteen hours he was in this situation, breathing like a person in common sleep. About half-past ten on Sunday night, August 14, his soul entered into the joy of his Lord, without a struggle or a groan, in the fifty-sixth year of his age. And here I break off my mournful story; but on my bleeding heart, the fair picture of his heavenly exercises will be for ever drawn." On the 17th his remains were deposited in Madeley Churchyard amidst the tears and lamentations of thousands. AN APPEAL то MATTER OF FACT AND COMMON SENSE; OR, A RATIONAL DEMONSTRATION OF MAN'S CORRUPT AND LOST ESTATE. Ye pompous sons of reason idoliz'd Wrong not the Christian, think not reason yours Through reason's wounds alone thy faith can die. YOUNG. The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was LOST.-LUXE xix. 10 |