presume to offer that mite to the God of Truth, I lay by the design, and shall send that sum to Mr. York. Money is so scarce here, at this time, that I shall sell at a very great loss; but necessity and justice are two great laws, which must be obeyed. As I design, on my return to England, to pinch until I have got rid of this debt, I may go and live in one of the cottages belonging to the vicar, if we could let the vicarage for a few pounds; and in that case, I dare say, Mr. Greaves would be so good as to take the other little house. My dear friend, let us die to sin, hold fast Jesus, the way, the truth, and the life, walk by faith in him, and not by the sight and passions of the old Adam. I hope the sun of affliction, which burns poor England and us, will ripen us all for glory. Give my best love to all our friends in Christ, and tell them, that the hope of seeing them does me good, and that I trust, they will not turn it into bitterness; which would be the case, if I should find them out of the narrow way, and out of the kingdom of righteousness, peace, and joy in the Lord. Salute dear John York; hold up his hands for me, and bid him stand fast in the Lord; leaning upon the cross of Him, who bruised the serpent's head, and overcame death, and hell, and the grave, by pulling out sin, the sting of death. Farewell in Jesus Christ, J. F. To the Rev. Mr. Greaves. MY DEAR FELLOW-LABOURER, I had fixed the time of my departure for this month; but now two hinderances stand in my way. When I came to collect the parts of my Manuscript, I found the most considerable part wanting; and, after a thousand searches, I was obliged to write it over again. This accident obliged me to put off my journey; and now the change of weather has brought back some symptoms of my disorder. I speak, or rather, whisper with difficulty; but I hope the quantity of grapes I begin to eat will have as good effect upon me, as in the two last autumns. Have patience then a little while. If things are not as you could wish, you can but do, as I have done for many years"learn patience by the things which you suffer." Crossing our will, getting the better of our own inclinations, and growing in experience, are no mean advantages; and they all may be your's. Mr. Ireland writes me word, that if I return to England now, the winter will undo all have been doing for my health for many years. However, I have not quite laid by the design of spending the winter with you; but don't expect me till you see me. I am, nevertheless, firmly purposed, that if I do not set out this au tumn, I shall do so next spring, as early as I can. : Till I had this relapse, I was able, thank God, to exhort in a private room three times a week: But the Lord Lieutenant will not allow me to get into a pulpit, though they permit the school-masters, who are laymen, to put on a band and read the Church Pray. ers: So high runs the prejudice. The clergy, however, tell me that if I will renounce my ordination, and get presbyterian orders among them, they will allow me to preach and, on these terms, one of the ministers of this town offers me his curacy. A young clergyman of Geneva, tutor to my nephew, appears to me a truly converted man; and he is so pleased when I tell him, there are converted souls in England, that he will go over with me to learn English, and converse with the British Christians. He wrote last summer with such force to some of the clergy, who were stirring up the fire of persecution, that he made them ashamed, and we have since had peace from that quarter. There is little genuine piety in these parts; nevertheless, there is yet some of the form of it: so far, as to go to the Lord's table regularly four times a year. There meet the adulterers, the drunkards, the swearers, the infidels, and even the materialists. They have no idea of the double damnation that awaits hypocrites. They look upon partak. ing that sacrament as a ceremony enjoined by the magistrate. At Zurich, the first town of this country, they have lately beheaded a clergyman, who wanted to betray his country to the Emperor, to whom it chiefly be longed. It is the town of the great reformer Zuinglius; yet there they poisoned the sacramental wine a few years ago. Tell it not in Gath! I mention this to shew you there is occasion and great need to bear a testimony against the faults of the clergy here; and if I cannot do it from the pulpit, I must try to do it from the press. Their canons, which were composed by 230 pastors, at the time of the reformation, are so spiritual and apostolic, that I design to translate them into English, if I am spared. Farewell, my dear brother. Take care, good, constant care of the flock committed to your charge; especially the sick and the young. Salute all our dear parishioners. Let me still have a part in your prayers public and private; and rejoice in the Lord, as, through grace, I am enabled to do in all my little tribulations. I am, your affectionate__friend and fellow-labourer. J. F. To Mr. William Wase. MY DEAR BROTHER, You are also entitled to many thanks; receive them from me, till I can re- to save yourselves altogether. Don't be so turn you something more substantial. Give unloving, so cowardly, as to let one of your my love and thanks to the preachers, who little company fall into the hands of the I come and help us. Enforce my little exhor- world and the devil and agree to crucify tation to the societies in much love. Go and the body of sin altogether. comfort from me Mrs. Palmer and Mrs. I am still in a strait between the work, Cartwright; and since God has placed you which Providence cuts out for me here, and all in a widowed state, agree to take Jesus the love which draws me to you. When I for a never dying friend and bridegroom. shall have the pleasure of seeing you, let it Your Maker is your husband. He is all in not be embittered by the sorrow of finding all; and what, then, have you lost? Christ any of you half-hearted and lukewarm. Let is yours and all things with him. The resur- me find you all strong in the Lord, and inrection day will soon come. Prepare your creased in humble love. Salute from me all selves for the marriage feast of the Lamb, that followed with us fifteen years ago. and till then rejoice in the expectation of that Care still for your old brethren. Let there day. I sympathize with our sickly friends, be no Cain among you, no Esau, no Lot's widow Matthews, M. Blummer, L. Whittak wife. Let the love of David and Jonathan, er, I. York, and S. Aston. Salute them heightened by that of Martha, Mary, Laza. kindly from me. Help them to trim their rus, and our Lord, shine in all your thoughts, lamps, and wait for the Bridegroom. Bid your tempers, your words, your looks, and them not be discouraged. Thank Thomas your actions. If you love one another, your and Nelly Fennel for their love to the little meetings will be a renewed feast; and preachers, and give them mine, as well as the God of love, who is peculiarly present John Owen, &c. by whom, I send it to the where two or three are gathered together, little companies they meet with, to call for strength, comfort, and help, in time of need. Fare ye all well in Jesus. I say again, farewell. I am your's, J. F. To Mr. Thomas York. MY DEAR FRIEND, You see by my letter to Mr. Greaves, that I am in good hopes of seeing you, at the latest, next spring. I have been so well, that my friends here thought of giving me a wife; but what should I do with a Swiss wife at Madeley? I want rather an English nurse; but more still a mighty Saviour, and thanks be to God, that I have. Help me to rejoice in that never dying, never moving friend. in the name of Jesus, and in the Spirit of love, will abundantly bless you Bear me still upon your breasts in prayer, as I do you upon mine; and rejoice with me, that the Lord, who made, redeemed, and comforts us, bears us all upon his. I am yours in him. J. F To Mr. John Owen. Nyon, Feb. 14th, 1781. I thank you, my dear Brother, for your kind lines. I have deferred answering them, till I could inform you of the time of my de parture hence, which you will see in my letter to Mr. Wase. I hope you help both Mr. Greaves and the preachers, to stir up the people in my parish. Strengthen the things Having heard that my dear friend Ireland that remain, and are ready to die. I hope has discharged the greatest part of my debt, you take counsel with Michael Onions, I have not sent money; but I hope to bring the most effectual means to recover the backMrs. Palmer, and Molly Cartwright, about with me £100 to make up that gap, and reimburse my friends in part, till I can do it sliders; and to keep together in Christ, and altogether. But I shall never be able to pay Salute them kindly from me, and tell them, to each other, those who still hold their shield. you the debt of kindness I have contracted with you. I look to Jesus my surety, for that I hope they will give me a good acthat. May he repay you a thousand fold! count of their little comparies, and of themRemember me kindly to Mrs. York, Mrs. Harper, and all that yet remember your schoolmaster, to have the pleasure of bringIf I were not a Minister, I would be a obliged friend and brother, J. F. To the Societies in and about Nyon, Sept. 15th, 1780. Grace and peace, truth and love, be multiplied unto you all. Stand fast in the Lord, my dear brethren. Stand fast to Jesus; stand fast to one another; stand fast to the Vow we have so often renewed together upon our knees and at the Lord's table. Resolve selves. ing up children in the fear of the Lord: that pleasure is yours; relish it, and it will comfort and strengthen you in your work. The joy of the Lord, and of charity is our strength. Salute the children from me, and tell them, I long to shew them the way to happiness and heaven. Pray, have you mastered the stiffness and shyness of your temper? Charity gives a meekness, an affability, a child-like simplicity, and openness, which nature has denied you, that grace might have all the hon our of it. Let me find you shining by these virtues, and you will revive me much. God bless your labour about the sheep and the lambs. I need not tell you to remember me to your friends, not excepting your brother-inlaw, your sister, and your niece Sally; to whose friendship I recommend my god. daughter Patty Cartwright. Go to James Hinksman, give him my love, and ask his for me, and his old brethren. Give the same commission to T. Fennel and Nelly, with respect to Samuel Stretton and his wife; likewise to Sergeant Lee, with respect to his brother Thomas; and to I. Tranter, T. Banks and T. Pool, with respect to their friends about them. Remember me to all friends. I am your's affectionately, J. F. P. S. Read the following note to all that fear God, and love Jesus and each other, assembling in Madeley church: MY DEAR BRETHREN, My heart leaps with joy at the thought of coming to see you, and bless the Lord with you. Let us not stay to praise him till we see each other. Let us see him in his Son, in his word, in his works, and in all the members of Christ. How slow will post horses go, in comparison of love! Quick as seraphic flames we move, To reign with Christ in endless day." Meet me as I do you—in spirit ; and we shall not stay till April or May to bless God together: Now will be the time of union and love. To Mr. William Wase. MY DEAR FRIEND, Nyon, Feb. 14th, 1781. I thank you for your kind remembrance of me. I need not be urged to return: brotherly love draws me to Madeley, and circumstances drive me hence. With pleasure I see the days lengthen, and hasten the happy hour, when I shall see the little flock rejoicing in God, as, through mercy, I do. I am exceeding glad that there is a revival on your side the water, and that you are obliged to enlarge your room. I wish I could contribute to shake the dry bones in my parish; but I have no confidence in the flesh; and what I could not do, when I was in my strength, I have little prospect of doing now that my strength is broken, However, I do not despair: For the work is not mine, but the Lord's. If the few who love the gospel would be simple and zealous, God would again hear their prayers for those who are content to go on in the broad way. thank you for your view of the iron bridge. I hope, the word, and the faith, that works by love, will erect a more solid and durable bridge, to unite those who travel together towards Sion. My friend Ireland invites me to go and join him in the South of France; and I long to see, whether I could not have more liberty to preach the word among the Papists, than among the Protestants." But it is so little I can do, that I doubt much, whether it is worth while going so far upon so little a chance. If I were stronger, and had more time, the fear of being hanged should not detain me. I trust to set out next month, and to be in England in May: it will not be my fault, if it is not in April. I am here in the midst of the rumours of war. The burghers of Geneva, on the side of the opposition, have disarmed the garrison and taken posession of one of the gates. I had, however, the luck to get in and bring away my nephew, who is a student there. Some troops are preparing to go and block them up. The Lord may at this time punish the repeated backslidings of those Laodicean Christians, most of whom have tnrned infidels. This event may a little retard my journey, as I must pass through Geneva. It also puts off the printing my manuscript, for there is nothing going on in that unhappy town but disputes, and fights, and mounting of guards. Remember me in much love to Mr. Greaves, Mr. Gilpin, and the preachers who labour with us. Oh my friend, give yourself wholly up to the Lord, and you will have that peace and joy, through Christ and righteousness, which will be worth a little heaven to you, Adieu, Your's, J. F. To Mr. Michael Onions. Nyon, March, 1781. I thank you, my dear Brother, for your kind remembrance of me, and for your letters: I hope to bring my fuller thanks to you in person. Come, hold up your hands. Confirm the feeble knees. Set up an Ebenezer every hour of the day. In every thing give thanks; and in order to this, pray without ceasing, and rejoice evermore. My heart sympathizes with poor Molly Cartwright. Tell her from me, that her husband lives in Him who is the resurrection, and that I want her to live there, with him. In Christ there is no death, but the victory over death. let us live in him, to him, for him, who more than repairs all our losses. I long to rejoice with her in hopes of meeting our depart. ed friends, where parting and trouble shall be no more. O! My love to your wife: Tell her she promised me, to be Jesu's, as well as your's. I trust her mother ripens faster for glory, than for the grave. I hope to find her quite mellowed by the humble love of the gospel. My love to John Owen, and all our other leaders, and by them, to the few who do not tire by the way. With regard to the others, take them in the arms of prayer and love, and carry them out of Egypt and Sodom, if they are loath to come. Despair of none. You know charity hopeth all things and brings many things to pass. All things are possible to him that believeth, all things are easy to him that loveth, God be with you, my dear brother, and make you faithful unto death. It is my prayer for you, and all the society, and all my dear neighbours, my dear parish ioners, to whom I beg to be remembered. I have no place to write their names: but I pray they may be all written in the Book of Life. God is merciful, gracious, and faithful: I set my seal to his loving-kindness; Witness my heart and hand, JOHN FLETCHER. FAMILIAR LETTERS. To the Rev. Mr. John Wesley. REVEREND SIR, Tern, Nov. 24th, 1756. As I look upon you as my spiritual guide, and cannot doubt of your patience to hear, and your experience to answer a question, proposed by one of your people, I free ly lay my case before you. Since the first time I began to feel the love of God shed abroad in my soul, which was, I think, at seven years of age, I resolved to give myself up to him, and to the service of his Church, if ever I was fit for it; but, the corruption which is in the world, and that which was in my heart, soon weakened, if not erased, those first characters which grace had written upon it. However, I went through my studies, with a design of going into orders; but afterwards, upon serious reflection, feeling I was unequal to so great a burder, and disgusted by the necessity I should be under to subscribe the doctrine of Predestination, I yielded to the desire of my friends, who would have me to go into the army: but just before I was quite engaged in a military employment, I met with such disappointments as occasioned my coming to England. Here I was called outwardly three times to go into orders; but upon praying to God, that if those calls were not from him, they might come to nothing, something always blasted the designs of my friends; and in this, I have often admired the goodness of God, who prevented my rushing into that important employment, as the horse into the battle. I never was more thankful for this favour, than since I heard the gospel in its purity. Before, I had been afraid, but then I trembled to meddle with holy things; and resolved to work out my salvation privately, without engaging in a way of life, which required so much more grace and gifts, than I was conscious I possessed; yet, from time to time, felt warm and strong desires, to cast myself and my inability on the Lord, if I should be called any more, knowing that he could help me, and shew his strength in my weakness: and these desires were increased, by some little success, which attended my exhortations and letters to my friends. I think it necessary to let you know, Sir, that my patron often desired me to take or ders, and said he would soon help me to a living; to which I coldly answered, I was not fit, and that besides, I did not know how to get a title. The thing was in that state, when about six weeks ago, a gentleman I hardly knew, offered me a living, which, in all probability will be vacant soon: and a clergyman I never spoke to, gave me of his own accord, the title of curate to one of his livings. Now, Sir, the question which I beg you to decide is, Whether I must and can make use of that title to get into orders? For, with respect to the living, were it vacant, I have no mind to it; because, I think, I could preach with more fruit in my native country, and in my own tongue. I am in suspense: on one side, my heart tells me, I must try, and it tells me so, wherever I feel any degree of the love of God and man; on the other, when I examine, whether I am fit for it, I so plainly see my want of gifts, and especially, of that soul of all the labours of a minister, love, continual, universal, flaming love, that my confidence disappears. I accuse myself of pride to dare to entertain the desire, of supporting one day, the ark of God; and conclude, that an extraordinary punishment will, sooner, or later, overtake my rashness. As I am in both of these frames successively, I must own, Sir, I do not see which of these two ways before me, I can take with safety; and I shall gladly be ruled by you; because, I trust, God will direct you in giving me the advice you think will best conduce to his glory, which is the only thing I would have in view in this affair. I know how precious your time is, and desire no long answer-persist, or forbear, will satisfy and influence, Rev. Sir, your unworthy servant, J. F. To the Rev. John Wesley. REVEREND SIR, London, May 26th, 1757 If I did not write to you before Mrs. Wesley had asked me, it was not that I wanted a remembrancer within, but rather an encourager without. There is, generally, upon my heart such a sense of my unworthiness, that I sometimes dare hardly open my mouth before a child of God; and think it an unspeakable honour to stand before one, who has recovered something of the image of God or sincerely seeks after it. Is it possible that such a sinful worm as I should have the privilege to converse with one, whose soul is sprinkled with the blood of my Lord. The thought amazes, confounds me, and fill my eyes with tears of humble joy. Judge then, at what distance I must see myself from you, if I am so much below the least of your children and whether a remembrancer within suffices to make me presume to write to you whose shoes I am not worthy to bear. I rejoice that you find every where an increase of praying souls. I doubt not but the prayer of the righteous hath great power with God; yet I cannot believe, that it should hinder the fulfilling of Christ's gracious promises to his Church. He must, and cer. tainly will come, at the time appointed; for he is not slack, as some men count slackness; and although, he would have all to come to repentance, yet he has not forgot to be true and just. Only he will come with more mercy, and will increase the light that shall be at evening-tide, according to his promise in Zech, xiv. 7. I should rather think, that the visions are not yet plainly disclosed; and that the day, and year, in which the Lord will begin to make bare his arm openly, are still concealed from us. I must say to Mr. Walsh, as he said once to me concerning God, "I wish I could attend him every where, as Elisha did Elijah." But since the will of God calls me from him, I must submit, and drink the cup prepared for me. I have not seen him, unless for a few moments, three or four times, before divine service. We must meet at the throne of grace, or meet but seldom. O when will the communion of saints be complete! Lord, hasten the time, and let me have a place among them, that love thee, and love one another in sincerity. I set out in two days for the country. O may I be faithful! Harmless like a dove, wise like a serpent, and bold as a lion for the common cause! O Lord, do not forsake me! Stand by the weakest of thy servants, and enable thy children to bear with me, and wrestle with thee in my behalf. O bear with me, dear Sir, and give me your blessing every day, and the Lord will return it to you seven-fold. I am, Reverend and dear Sir, your unworthy servant, MADAM, To Mrs. Glynne. J. F. London, April 18th, 1758. As it is never too late to do what multiplicity of business, rather than forgetfulness, has forced us to defer, I am not ashamed, though after some months, to use the liberty you gave me, to enquire after the welfare of your soul; and that so much the more, as I am conscious I have not forgotten you at the throne of grace. O may my petitions have reached heaven, and forced from thence, at Least some drops of those spiritual showers of righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost, which I implore for you. Though, I trust, the unction from above teaches you all things needful to salvation, and especially the necessity of continuing instant in prayer, and watching thereunte with all perseverance; yet, I think it my duty to endeavour to add wings to your de sires after holiness, by enforcing them with mine. () were I but clothed with all the righteousness of Christ, my prayers would avail much; and the lukewarmness of my brethren would not increase my guilt, as being myself an instance of that coldness of love, which puts me upon interceding for them. Though I speak of lukewarmness, I do not accuse you, Madam, of having given way to it; on the contrary, it is my duty, and the joy of my heart, to hope, that you stir up more and more the gift of God, which is in you; that the evidences of your interest in a bleeding Lord get clearer every day; that the love of Christ constrains you more and more to deny yourself, take up your cross in all things, and follow him patiently, through bad and good report:-In a word, that coatinually leaving the things which are behind, you stretch forward, through sunshine or darkness, towards the prize of your high calling in Jesus Christ.-I mean a heart emptied of pride, and filled with all the fulness of God. This is the hope, which I delight to entertain of you; and I describe it not out of flattery, Madam, but with an intent that, if you fall short in any thing, these lines may be an instrument in the hand of God to stir you up again, and make you look on all things as dung and dross, in comparison of the excellency of the knowledge of Jesus Christ, with whom we ought to be crucified to the world, and the world to us. I have often thought of you, Madam, in reading the letters of a Lady, who was a Christian, and an eminent Christian, not to say, one of the brightest lights, that God has raised since the late revival of godliness. The reproach of Christ was her crown of rejoicing, his cross her continual support, his followers her dearest companions, his example the pattern of her conversation. She lived a saint, and died an angel. Each one of her letters may be a pattern for Christian correspondents, by the simplicity, edification, and shall I write as she did! When my heart O when love they breathe in every line. shall be full of God as her's was. May the Lord enable you to walk in her steps, and grant me to see you shining among the humble loving Marys of this age, as she did a few months ago. Her God is our God: The same Spirit that animated her, is waiting at the door of our hearts, to cleanse them, and fill them with his consolations, if we will should we then give way to despondency, but exclude the world, and let him in. Why and refuse to cherish that lively hope, which if any one has, he will "purify himself even Mrs. Lefevre. |