heart,-dead to the world, and wanting, as well as myself, to be filled with all the life of God. She joins me in dutiful thanks to your Ladyship, for your obliging 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." And about a year after, in a letter to Mr. Charles Wesley, his words are, "I thank you for your 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 lived 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 to Christ; so that, if the parallel fail, it will be on my side." "Mr.

"From this period," to use Mr. Gilpin's words, Fletcher considered himself possessed of the last possible addition to his earthly happiness, never mentioning this memorable event but with expressions of extraordinary gratitude and devotion to the God of all his mercies. And from this time, to the other parts of his character must be added that of an attentive and affectionate husband, which he maintained, with a becoming mixture of dignity and sweetness, till the day of his death. By her Christian conversation, her devotional habits, and her spiritual experience, Mrs. Fletcher was peculiarly suited to a state of the most entire and intimate fellowship with this eminent servant of God. She was of equal standing with him in the school of Christ, and of the same uncommon growth in grace: she had drunk of the same spirit, was actuated by the same zeal, and prepared in every respect to accompany him in the Christian race. By her discretion and prudence she bore the whole weight of his domestic cares; while, by the natural activity of her mind, and her deep acquaintance with divine things, she seconded his ministerial labours with astonishing success. Like Zacharias and Elizabeth, these extraordinary persons were both eminently 'righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless.' In their separate stations they had long been

distinguished as lights in dark places; but after uniting their rays, they shone with redoubled lustre, 'putting to silence the ignorance of foolish men,' and dissipating the prejudices which many had entertained against the truths of the Gospel.

"For the space of almost four years, these Christian yoke-fellows continued to enjoy, without interruption, all the inexpressible felicities of the most complete union; a union which appeared to promote at once their own particular happiness, and the interests of the people among whom they jointly laboured."

CHAPTER IX.

FROM THE TIME OF HIS MARRIAGE TILL THE BEGINNING OF HIS LAST ILLNESS,

66

1. FROM the time of his settling at Madeley with Mrs. Fletcher, he had no return of his consumptive disorder. On the contrary, by the blessing of God on her peculiar care and tenderness, not only his health was confirmed, but his strength restored as in the days of his youth. In the meantime he took care to employ all his returning strength in the work of faith and labour of love. I have yet strength enough," says he to Mr. Charles Wesley, Dec. 19, 1782, "to do my parish duty without the help of a Curate. O that the Lord would help me to do it acceptably and profitably! The colliers begun to rise in this neighbourhood: happily the cockatrice's egg was crushed before the serpent came out. However, I got many a hearty curse from the colliers, for the plain words I spoke on that occasion. I want to see days of power both within and without; but in the meantime I would follow closely my light in the narrow path. My wife joins me in respectful love to Mrs. Wesley and yourself. "J. F."

More particularly Mr. Fletcher was diligent in that which he had always found to be one of the most difficult parts of his duty. There were in the parish of Madeley no less than eighteen public houses. These were continual nurseries for sin, particularly on Sunday evenings. It had been, for many years, his unwearied endeavour to put an end to these abuses. Yet, as he very seldom had a Churchwarden who was heartily willing to second him therein, his endeavours were almost ineffectual, producing very little fruit. But for two years God was now pleased to favour him with a Churchwarden who was resolved to act according to his oath: he then

cheerfully renewed his endeavours, visiting several of these houses every Sunday,—all of them in their turn. In every one he bore a faithful testimony; and in some it was attended with much good. O that no one of those who have been at any time within the reach of his voice may finally inherit that curse,"Behold, ye despisers, and wonder, and perish!"

2. For many years he had felt, with the deepest sensibility, the disconsolate condition of poor, uninstructed children; and some years ago he began a school, wherein he taught them himself every day. After pursuing this method for some time, he erected a school in MadeleyWood. But afterwards his thoughts were much engaged concerning the utility of Sunday-schools; especially after they were recommended to him by Mrs. Darby, an intelligent and pious person, whom he always found ready to promote every good work. He then earnestly set about promoting them in his own parish. Three hundred children were soon gathered together, whom he took every opportunity of instructing, by regular meetings, for some time before the schools were opened. These meetings he attended with the utmost diligence, till the very Thursday before his illness. In order to encourage the children, his method was, to give them little hymn-books, pointing them to some friend or neighbour who would teach them the hymns, and instruct them to sing. The little creatures were greatly taken with this new employment; insomuch that many of them would scarcely allow themselves time to eat or sleep, for the desire they had of learning their lessons. At every meeting, after inquiring, Who had made the greatest proficiency, he distinguished them by some small rewards.

3. In instructing of children, one great difficulty is, to draw and fix their attention. He had a singular gift for doing this, as appears by the following anecdote, and others that might be related, if need were:-Once, when he visited Kingswood-school, having collected all the youths together, and secretly addressed the throne of grace, he called for pen, ink, and paper, told the scholars he came to seek for volunteers for Christ, and desired all those who were willing to enlist in his service, to enter their names on the paper. A peculiar blessing

attended the proposal: it led several of them to a serious concern for their souls, and to a resolution of giving themselves up to live and die in the Lord's service. At another time when he had a considerable number of children before him, in a place in his parish, as he was persuading them to mind what they were about, and to remember the text which he was going to mention, just then a robin flew into the house, and their eyes were presently turned after him. "Now," said he, "I see you can attend to that robin. Well, I will take that robin for my text." He then gave them a useful lecture on the harmlessness of that little creature, and the tender care of its Creator.

4. When he observed that the number of children, instead of falling off, as was expected, increased continually, he wrote some proposals to the parish, which were received with the greatest unanimity. Many of the rich, as well as the trading people, lent their helping hand, not only to defray the expense of Teachers, but also to raise a convenient house in Coalbrook-Dale, for the instruction of the numerous children that were on that side of the parish.

5. He prefaced the proposal thus:-"Our national depravity turns greatly on these two hinges, the profanation of the Lord's day, and the neglect of the education of children. Till some way be found of stopping up these two great inlets of wickedness, we must expect to see our workhouses filled with aged parents, forsaken by their prodigal children, and wives forsaken by their faithless husbands, and with the wretched offspring of lewd women and drunken men. Nay, we may expect to see the gaols, and even the gallows, largely stocked (to the perpetual reproach of our nation) with unhappy wretches, ready to fall a sacrifice to the laws of their country. 'It is a common observation,' (says Dr. Gibson, late Bishop of London,) that public criminals, when they come to their unhappy end, and make their dying declarations to the world, generally charge the sinful courses in which they have lived, to the neglect and abuse of the Lord's day, as the first occasion of leading them into all other wickedness. And considering how frequently these declarations are repeated, and how many other instances of the same kind though less