woman talk so sweetly of Jesus Christ, that I knew not how the time passed away." "I will be hanged," said Mrs. Hill, “if our tutor does not turn Methodist by and by!" "Methodist, Madam," said he,

pray what is that?" She replied, "Why, the Methodists are à people that do nothing but pray. They are praying all day and all night." "Are they?" said he; "Then with the help of God, I will find them out, if they be above ground." He did, not long after, find them out, and had his desire, being admitted into the Society. While he was in town he met in Mr. Edwards' class, and lost no opportunity of meeting. And he retained a peculiar regard for Mr. Edwards to the day of his death.

3. It was not long before he was pressed in spirit, to call sinners to repentance. Seeing the world all around him lying in wickedness, he found an earnest desire,

"To pluck poor brands out of the fire,

To snatch them from the verge of hell.”

And though he was yet far from being perfect in the English Tongue, particularly with regard to the pronunciation of it, yet the earnestness with which he spake, seldom to bé seen in England, and the unspeakable tender affection which breathed in every word and gesture to poor, lost sinners, made so deep an impression on all that heard, that very few went empty away.

4. About the year 1753, (being now of a sufficient age) he was ordained Deacon and Priest, and soon after presented to the little living of Madeley, in Shropshire. This, he had frequently said, was the only living which he ever desired to have. He was ordained at Whitehall, and the same day, being informed that I had no one to assist me at West-Street Chapel, he came away as soon as ever the ordination was over, and assisted me in the administration of the Lord's Supper. And he was now doubly diligent in preaching, not only in the Chapels of West-Street and Spitalfields, but wherever the Providence of God opened a door to proclaim the everlasting Gospel. This he did

frequently in French, (as well as in English,) of which all judges allowed him to be a complete master.

5. Hence he removed into the Vicarage-House at Madeley. Here he was fully employed among his parishioners, both in the town and in Madeley Wood, a mile or two from it, a place much resembling Kingswood, almost wholly in habited by poor Colliers, and their numerous families. These forlorn ones, (little wiser than the beasts that perish,) he took great pains to reform and instruct. And they are now as judicious and as well-behaved a people, as most of their station in the three kingdoms.

6. But some time after, he was prevailed upon by the Countess of Huntingdon, occasionally to quit his beloved retreat, and visit Wales, in order to superintend her school at Trevecka. This he did, with all his power, instructing the young men, chiefly in experimental and practical Divinity: till he received a letter from the Countess, in which, her Ladyship declared, that all who did not absolutely renounce those Eight Propositions, which were contained in the Minutes of the Conference, for 1770, must immediately leave her house. Mr. Fletcher was exceedingly surprised at this peremptory declaration. He spent the next day in fasting and prayer, and in the evening wrote to her Ladyship, that he not only could not utterly renounce, but must entirely approve of all those Eight Propositions, and therefore had obeyed her order, by leaving her house, and returning to his own at Madeley. A little after this the Circular Letter appeared, signed by Mr. Shirley, summoning all that feared God, in England, to meet together at Bristol, at the time of the Methodist Conference, “ in order to bear testimony against the dreadful heresy contained in the Minutes of the preceding Conference."

7. That circular letter was the happy occasion of his writing those excellent Checks to Antinomianism, in which one knows not which to admire most, the purity of the language, (such as a foreigner scarcely ever wrote before,) the strength and clearness of the argument, or the mildness, and sweetness of the spirit, which breathes throughout the

whole. Insomuch that I nothing wonder at a Clergyman that was resolved never to part with his dear decrees, who being pressed to read them, replied, "No, I will never read Mr. Fletcher's Writings; for if I did, I should be of his mind." He now, likewise, wrote several other valuable Tracts. Meantime, he was more abundant in his ministerial labours, both in public and private, visiting his whole parish, early and late, in all weathers, regarding neither heat nor cold, rain nor snow, whether he was on horseback or on foot. But this insensibly weakened his constitution, and sapped the foundation of his health; which was still more effectually done, by his intense and uninterrupted studies: at which he frequently continued with scarce any intermission, fourteen, fifteen, or sixteen hours a day. Mean-time, he did not allow himself necessary food: he seldom took any regular meals, unless he had company; but twice or thrice in four and twenty hours, ate some bread and cheese, or fruit: instead of which he took a draught of milk, and then wrote again.

8. Being informed that his health was greatly impaired, I judged nothing was so likely to restore it as a long journey. So I proposed his taking a journey with me into Scotland, to which he willingly consented. We set out in spring, and after travelling eleven or twelve hundred miles, returned to London in autumn. I verily believe, had he travelled with me a few months longer, he would have quite recovered his health. But, being stopped by his friends, he quickly relapsed, and fell into a true pulmonary consumption.

9. But this sickness was not unto death. It was only sent that the glory of the Lord might appear. For upwards of four months he resided at Newington, and was visited by persons of all ranks. And they all marvelled at the grace of God that was in him. In all his pain, no complaint came out of his mouth: but his every breath was spent, either in praising God, or exhorting and comforting his neighbour.

10. When nothing else availed, he was advised to take

a journey by sea and by land into his own country. He did this, in company with Mr. Ireland, a well tried and faithful friend, who loved him as a brother, and thought no pains ill bestowed, if he could preserve so valuable a life. He remained partly in the south of France, and partly in his own country upwards of three years, and was a blessing to all that were round about him. Being much recovered, in the summer of 1781, he returned in good health to Madeley.

11. In the month of November of that year, with the full approbation of all his friends, he married Miss Bosanquet: of whom, as she is still alive, I say no more at present, than that she was the only person in England, whom I judged to be worthy of Mr. Fletcher. By her tender and judicious care, his health was confirmed more and more. And I am firmly convinced that had he used this health, in travelling all over the kingdom, five, or six, or seven months every year, (for which never was man more eminently qualified; no, not Mr. Whitefield himself,) he would have done more good, than any other man in England. I cannot doubt but this would have been the more excellent way. However, though he did not accept of this honour, he did abundance of good in that narrower sphere of action which he chose: and was a pattern well worthy the imitation of all the parochial ministers in the kingdom.

12. His manner of life during the time that he and his wife lived together, it may be most satisfactory to give in her own words.

"IT is no little grief to me, that my dearly beloved hus-` band has left no account of himself in writing. And I am not able to give many particulars of a life the most angelical I have ever known.

"He was born at Nyon, in the Canton of Berne in Switzerland. In his infancy he discovered a lively genius, and great tenderness of heart. One day, having offended his father, who threatened to correct him, he kept himself at a distance in the garden, till seeing his father

approach, and fearing his anger would be renewed by the sight of him, he ran away. But he was presently struck with deep remorse, thinking, 'What! Do I run away from my father? What a wicked wretch! It may be I may live to grow up and have a son that will run away from me!' And it was some years before the impression of sorrow, then made upon him, wore off.

"When he was about seven years old, he was reproved by his nurse maid, saying, 'You are a naughty boy, and the devil takes all such.' After he was in bed, he began to reflect on her words, his heart smote him, and he said, 'I am a naughty boy, and perhaps God will let the devil fetch me away.' He got upon the bed, and for a considerable time, wrestled with God in prayer, till he felt such a sense of the love of God, as made him quite easy.

[Part of the next paragraph I omit, being nearly the same with what I inserted before.]

"When he entered Mr. Hill's family, he did not know Christ in his heart. One Sunday evening, as he was writing some music, the servant came in to make up the fire, and looking at him, said, 'Sir, I am very sorry to see you so employed on the Lord's-day.' He immediately put away his music, and, from that hour, became a strict observer of that holy day.

"Not long after, he met with a person, who asked him to go with her and hear the Methodists. He readily consented. The more he heard, the more uneasy he grew: and doubling his diligence, he hoped by doing much to render himself acceptable to God: till one day hearing Mr. Green, he was convinced he did not know what true faith was. This occasioned many reflections in his mind. Is it possible (said he) that I who have made Divinity my study, and have received the premium of piety (so called, from the University) for my writings on divine subjects; that I should still be so ignorant, as not to know what Faith is?' But the more he examined, the more he was convinced then sin revived, and hope died away. He now sought, by the most rigorous austerities, to conquer