not want much, and I can do with what is more common, and cheaper than the rarities you ply me with.

"Your bounty upon bounty reminds me of the repeated mercies of our God. They follow one another as wave does wave at sea; and all to waft us to the pleasing shore of confidence and gratitude, where we can not only cast anchor near, but calmly stand on the Rock of Ages, and defy the rage of tempests.'

"Another uncommon talent which God had given him," says Mrs. Fletcher, "was a peculiar sensibility of spirit. He had a temper the most feeling of any I ever knew. Hardly a night passed over, but some part of it was spent in groans for the souls and bodies committed to his care.* I dreaded his hearing, either of the sins or sufferings of any of his people, before the time of his going to bed, know

The following account may be relied upon, I received it in the Parish of Madeley, from one who well knew the circumstances, and simply related the facts as they were. A young person in his Parish who had been brought by his ministry from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, being afflicted with a consumptive disorder, Mr. Fletcher tenderly and constantly visited her. The young woman lay sick at her Father's, a place not less than four miles from Mr. Fletcher's dwelling. Yet such was his cheerful attention to this house of mourning-Such his ardent desire (weak and feeble as he sometimes was himself, by labours, by watchings and fastings) to comfort the afflicted, and help them to bear their burdens, that through wet and dry, cold and heat, (generally on foot) would this affectionate Pastor visit them, and when this young woman was near death, Mr. Fletcher desired her parents to send for him, that he might, in her dying chamber, help her to praise God and shout Victory! Victory! through the blood of the Lamb. The event of her death happened in the night, and immediately on the arrival of the Messenger at the Vicarage, Mr. Fletcher made himself ready and set out on this errand of mercy. A considerable quantity of rain had just before fallen, and through the badness of the road, and the haste he made, he lost first one, then the other of his shoes, but "As nothing is hard to love," his bare feet carried him to the spot in time to witness how a Christian can triumph over death! and how "to him that believeth all things are possible." Reader, go thou and imitate this most excellent man.

J. K.

ing how strong the impressions would be on his mind, chasing sleep from his eyes.

"And yet I have heard him speak of a time, twelve or fourteen years ago, when he was greatly tempted to think that he was not sensible enough of the afflictions of his fellow-creatures. He thought Christ bore our infirmities, and carried our sorrows: but, said he, I have not that Christ-like temper: I do not bear the sorrows of others.' After being for some time buffeted with this temptation, he prayed that a measure of this spirit might be given to him. Not long after, as he was visiting a poor sick family, so lively a sense of their affliction on a sudden fell upon his mind, that he could scarce get home. As soon as he sat down in his house, his soul was penetrated with such a sense of the woes of mankind, as utterly depressed and overcame him, and drank up his spirits, insomuch that he could not help himself, nor move from one chair to another; and he was no more able to walk or help himself, than a newborn child. At the same time he seemed to lose the use of his memory, and of all his faculties. He thought, What is this? Is it a disease? Is it a stroke of the palsy? Rather is it not an answer to my own ill-judg ed, though well-intended prayer? Did I not ask a burden unsuitable to a finite, and capable of being borne only by an infinite Being! He remained some hours in this situation. Then it came into his mind, If this be a purely natural event, the will of the Lord be done! But if it be the answer to an improper prayer, God will answer again by removing it. He cried to the Lord, and was restored to strength both of body and mind.

"When we were at Leeds, in the year 1784, I had another proof of the tender sensibility of his heart. O how deeply was he affected for the welfare of his brethren! When any little disputes arose between them, his inmost soul groaned under the burden. And by two or three o'clock in the morning, I was sure to hear him breathing

out prayers for the peace and prosperity of Sion. When I observed to him, I was afraid it would hurt his health, and wished him to sleep more, he would answer, "O Polly, the cause of God lies near my heart!

Toward me, his tenderness was exerted in its utmost extent. My soul, my body, my health, my ease, and comfort, were his daily study. We had no thought, either past or present, which we purposely concealed from each other. My spiritual advancement was his constant endeavour; and to this he was continually stirring me up, inviting me to walk more closely with God: urging that thought, O my dear, let us pray for dying grace; for we shall not be long here.' His temporal affairs he committed solely to me, though he was always ready to assist me in the smallest matters.

"One article more remains to be spoken of, namely, his Communion with God. Although he enjoyed this, more or less, at all times, and in all places, yet I have frequently heard him observe, that the seasons of his closest communion were always in his own house, or in the church: usually in the latter. It is much to be lamented, that we have no account of it from his own pen. It was his constant endeavour to set the Lord before him, and to maintain an uninterrupted sense of his presence. In order to this, he was slow of speech, and had the greatest government of his words. Indeed he both acted, spoke, and thought, as under the eye of God. And thus he remained unmoved in all occurrences; at all times, and on every occasion possessing inward recollection. Nor did I ever see him diverted therefrom, on any occasion whatever, either going out or coming in, whether by ourselves or in company. Sometimes he took his journies alone: but above a thousand miles I have travelled with him: during which neither change of company, nor of place, nor the variety of circumstances which naturally occur in travelling, ever seemed to make the least difference in his

firm attention to the presence of God. To preserve this uniform habit of soul, he was so watchful and recollected, that to such as were unexperienced in these things, it might appear like insensibility. But no one could converse in a more lively and sensible manner, even on natural things, when he saw it was to the glory of God. He was always striving to raise his own and every other spirit, to a close and immediate intercourse with God. And I can say with truth, all his union with me was so intermingled with prayer and praise, that every employment, and every meal was, as it were, perfumed therewith."

HIS DEATH.

"SOME weeks before he was taken ill, (says Mrs. Fletcher,) he mentioned to me a peculiar manifestation of love, which he received in his own house, with the application of those words, Thou shalt walk with me in white. He added, It is a little thing so to hang upon God by faith, as to feel no departure from him, and no raising in the heart against him. This does not satisfy me. And I sometimes find such gleams of light and love, such wafts as it were, of the heavenly air, so powerful as if they would just then take my soul with them to glory! But I am not filled. I want to be filled with all the fullness of God. conformity to these sentiments, when he was in his last illness, he expressed himself thus, I am filled, most sweetly filled.' This conveyed much to my mind, as I under-. stood by it the accomplishment of his large desires.

"Sometime before the beginning of his last sickness, he was peculiarly penetrated with a sense of the nearness of eternity. There was scarce an hour in which he was not calling upon us to drop every thought and every care, that we might attend to nothing but the drinking deeper into God. We spent much time in wrestling with God,

and were led in a peculiar manner to abandon our whole selves, our souls and bodies into the hands of God; ready to do, and willing to suffer whatever was well-pleasing to Him.

"And now the time drew near, when his faith was to be called to its last grand exercise. A little before this, being on his kness in prayer for light, whether he should go to London or not? The answer to him seemed to be,

Not to London, but to thy grave.' When he acquainted me with this, he said, with a heavenly smile, 'Satan would represent it to me as something dreadful, enforcing those words, The cold grave! the cold grave! On the Sunday following, (I think it was the next day,) that anthem was sung in the church, The Lord is my shepherd, therefore can I lack nothing. He shall feed me in green pastures, and lead me forth beside the waters of comfort. He shall convert my soul, and bring me forth in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for thou art with me, thy rod and staff shall comfort me. Thou shalt prepare a table before me, against them that trouble me. Thou hast anointed my head with oil, and my cup shall be full.

"In his return home, he observed in how uncommon a degree these words had been blest to his soul. And from that very time I do not remember to have seen in him any, the least marks of temptation. He shewed an unusual cheerfulness and liveliness in every part of his work, and seemed to increase in strength of body, as well as in strength of soul. Truly it was to him according to his faith. He feared no evil, and his cup was filled with righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.

"On Thursday, August 4, he was employed in the work of God, 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