an evil nature, and bring heaven-born peace into his soul. But the more he struggled, the more he was convinced, that all his fallen soul was sin, and that nothing but a revelatation of the love of Jesus, could make him a Christian. For this he groaned with unwearied assiduity: till one day, after much wrestling with God, lying prostrate on his face before the throne, he felt the application of the blood of Jesus. Now his bonds were broken, and his free soul began to breathe a pure air. Sin was beneath his feet, and he could triumph in the Lord, the God of his salvation. "From this time he walked valiantly in the ways of God; and thinking he had not leisure enough in the day, he made it a constant rule, to sit up two nights in a week, for reading, prayer, and meditation, in order to sink deeper into that communion with God, which was become his soul's delight. Mean-time, he took only vegetable food, and for above six months, lived wholly on bread, with milk and water. "Notwithstanding the nights he sat up, he made it a rule, never to sleep, as long as he could possibly keep awake. For this purpose, he always took a candle and book to bed with him. But one night, being overcome of sleep, before he had put out the candle, he dreamed his curtains, pillow, and cap, were on fire, without doing him any harm. And so it was. In the morning, part of his curtains, pillow, and cap, were burnt. But not an hair of his head was singed. So did God give his angels charge over him! Some time after, he was favoured with a particular manifestation of the love of God: so powerful, that it appeared to him, as if body and soul would be separated. Now all his desires centred in one, that of devoting himself to the service of his precious Master. This he thought he could do best, by entering into Orders. God made his way plain, and he soon after settled in Madeley. He received this parish as from the immediate hand of God, and unweariedly laboured therein, and in the adjacent places, till he had spent himself in his Master's service, and was ripening fast for glory. Much opposition he met with for many years, and often his life was in danger. Sometimes he was inwardly constrained to warn obstinate sinners, that if they did not repent, the hand of God would cut them off. And the event proved the truth of the prediction. But, notwithstanding all their opposition, many were the seals of his ministry. "He had an earnest desire that the pure gospel should remain among his people, after he was taken away. For this purpose he surmounted great difficulties in building the house in Madeley Wood. He had not only saved for it the last farthing he had, but when he was abroad, proposed to let the Vicarage-House, (designing at his return to live in a little cottage near it) and appropriate the rent of it for clearing that house. "Since the time I had the honour and happiness of living with him, every day made me more sensible of the mighty work of the Spirit upon him. The fruits of this were manifest in all his life and conversation, but in nothing more than in his meekness and humility. It was a meekness which no affront could move: a humility which loved to be unknown, forgotten, and despised.* How hard is it to find an eminent person who loves an equal? But his delight was, in preferring others to himself. It appeared so natural in him, that it seemed as his meat, to set every one before himself. He spoke not of the fault of an absent person, but when necessary; and then with the utmost caution. He made no account of his own labours, and perhaps carried to an extreme his dislike of hearing them mentioned. "Patience is the daughter of Humility. In him it discovered itself in a manner which I wish I could either describe or imitate. It produced in him a ready mind to embrace every cross with alacrity and pleasure. And for the good of his neighbour, (the poor in particular,) nothing seemed hard, nothing wearisome. When I have been grieved to call him out of his study, from his closet-work, two or three times in an hour, he would answer, O my 1 * I think this was going to an extreme. dear, never think of that: it matters not what we do, so we are always ready to meet the Will of God: it is only conformity to this which makes any employment excellent.' "He had a singular love for the lambs of the flock, the children, and applied himself with the greatest diligence to their instruction, for which he had a peculiar gift: and this populous parish found him full exercise for it. The poorest For met with the same attention from him as the rich. their sakes he almost grudged himself necessaries, and often expressed a pain in using them, while any of his parish wanted them. "But while I mention his meekness and love, let me not forget the peculiar favour of his Master in giving him the most firm and resolute courage. In reproving sin and open sinners, he was a Son of Thunder, and regarded neither fear nor favour, when he had a message from God to deliver. "With respect to his communion with God, it is much to be lamented that we have no account of it from his own pen. But thus far I can say, it was his constant care, to keep an uninterrupted sense of the divine presence. In order to this he was slow of speech, and had the exactest government of his words. To this he was so inwardly attentive, as sometimes to appear stupid to those who knew him not: though few conversed in a more lively manner, when he judged it would be for the glory of God. It was his continued endeavour to draw up his own and every other spirit, to an immediate intercourse with God. And all his intercourse with me was so mingled with prayer and praise, that every employment and every meal, was, as it were, perfumed therewith. He often said, 'It is a little thing, so to hang upon God by faith, as to feel no departure from him. But I want to be filled with the fulness of his Spirit.' 'I feel,' said he, 'sometimes such gleams of light, as it were wafts of heavenly air, as seem ready to take my soul with them to glory.' A little before his last illness, when the fever began to rage among us, he preached a sermon on the duty of visiting the sick, wherein he said, 'What do you fear? fear? Are you afraid of catching the distemper, and dying? O fear it no more! What an honour to die in your Master's work! If permitted to me, I should account it a singular favour.' In his former illness he wrote thus, I calmly wait in unshaken resignation, for the full salvation of God; ready to venture on his faithful love, and on the sure mercies of David. His time is best, and is my time: Death has lost its sting. And I bless God I know not what hurry of spirits is, or unbelieving fears." "For some months past, he scarcely ever lay down or rose up without these words in his mouth, 'I nothing have, I nothing am, My treasure's in the bleeding Lamb, Both now and evermore.' "In one of his letters which he wrote some time since to his dear people at Madeley, some of his words are, I leave this blessed Island for awhile; but, I trust, I shall never leave the kingdom of God, the shadow of Christ's cross, the clefts of the Rock, smitten and pierced for us. There I meet you in spirit: thence, I trust, I shall joyfully leap into the ocean of eternity, to go and join those ministering spirits, who wait on the heirs of salvation. And if I am no more allowed to minister to you on earth, I rejoice at the thought that I shall perhaps be allowed to accompany the angels, who, if you abide in the faith, will be commissioned to carry you into Abraham's bosom.' "The thought enlivens my faith! Lord, give me to walk in his steps! Then shall I see him again, and my heart shall rejoice, and we shall eternally behold the Lamb together. Faith brings near the welcome moment! And now he beckons me away, and Jesus bids me come!" I know not that any thing can or need be added to this, but Mrs. Fletcher's Account of his Death, which follows also in her own words. "For some time before his late illness, he was particularly penetrated with the nearness of eternity. There was scarcely an hour in which he was not calling upon us to drop every thought and every care, that we might attend to nothing but drinking deeper into God. We spent much time in wrestling with God, and were led in a peculiar manner to abandon our whole selves into the hands of God, to do or suffer whatever was pleasing to him. "On Thursday, Aug. 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." On Friday and Saturday he was not well, but seemed uncommonly drawn out in prayer. On Saturday night his fever appeared very strong. I begged him not to go to church in the morning: but he told me, 'It was the will of the Lord;' in which case I never dared to persuade. In reading prayers he almost fainted away. I got through the crowd, and intreated him to come out of the desk. But he let me and others know, in his sweet manner, that we were not to interrupt the order of God. I then retired to my pew, where all around me were in tears. When he was a little refreshed by the windows being opened, he went on with a strength and recollection that surprised us all. "After sermon he went to the Communion Table with these words, I am going to throw myself under the wings of the Cherubim, before the Mercy-seat.' The service held till near two. Sometimes he could scarcely stand, and was often obliged to stop. The people were deeply affected: weeping was on every side. Gracious Lord! How was it my soul was kept so calm in the midst of the most tender feelings? Notwithstanding his extreme weakness, he gave out several verses of hymns, and lively sentences of exhortation. When service was over, we hurried him to bed, where he immediately fainted away. He afterward dropped into a sleep for some time, and, on waking, cried out with a pleasant smile, 'Now, my dear, thou seest I am no worse for doing the Lord's work: he never fails me when I trust in him.' Having got a little dinner, he dozed most of the evening, now and then waking full of the praises of God. At night his fever returned, though not violent; but his strength decreased amazingly. On Monday and Tuesday VOL. IX. D |