During the illness of my dear parents, I suffered much, not only for them, but for my weak friend at home, and the weight of so great a family. Her increasing illness was an unspeakable exercise to me. She had some time before been brought near to death, but many promises of recovery were then brought to her mind with power; and after being so reduced as to be given over, she recovered as it were suddenly, and beyond all expectation, and remained in pretty good health for a year. But now she grew daily worse; and for three years her sufferings were great and frequent. I plainly saw she decayed fast, and all my nature shrunk at the thought of being left alone at the head of such an undertaking; and what added to my trial, we had increased our family, with some whose spirit did not suit our house, so that jars, and a divided interest, sometimes arose, which till very lately we had not known. But the heaviest of all my yokes, was the galling yoke of unbelief. I remembered the time, when I could say, "Unbelief has not a place in my soul to set its foot upon." But now I had slipped back from that constant act of faith. I had admitted cares and fears,* and by insensible degrees, I was sunk again into my own will, and the strivings of evil tempers, Indeed, there was a confidence, a degree of union with God, which I never totally lost, neither did his fear depart out of my heart: yet I had inwardly departed from that pure love which I possessed. I had left off to delight myself in God, as heretofore; and accepted of many other things in his place, so that my trials were greater than I can well describe. One day as I was attending my sick friend, almost inconsolable, she said, "My dear, I hardly know how to rejoice in the prospect of death, because I see no way for you. I shall leave you in the hands of enemies, but God * Was this painful state heaviness through manifold temptations, 1 Peter i. 6.) or a real departure from the Lord? I believe some things that follow will incline the serious reader to conclude it was the former. Ed will stand by you." I said, "My dear love, can you think of any way for me? It is sometimes presented to my mind, that I should be called to marry Mr. Fletcher."* She replied, “I like him the best of any man, if ever you do take that step. But unless he should be of a very tender disposition towards you, you would not be happy but God will direct you." It pleased God, however, in a measure to remove her disorder again; so that for some months she was enabled to act as a leader and a helper among us. : We were now pretty well settled, our meetings were quiet and comfortable, the number of hearers increased, and some of our little flock were gone triumphantly to glory. My income being now larger, I thought a more easy path lay before me; and I found much attachment to the place. Yet we were sickly, and the house was too small for such a family as ours. We had no land to it, (mine being all let off before to the other house,) and not having cows, such a number of children occasioned much inconvenience. Frequently I was advised to remove into some part of Yorkshire, and take a farm ; that otherwise, it was impossible to bring up the children to every branch of needful business; and that my income ments. * The pious reader will not be displeased to see that such an impression was made on such a mind, preceding the union of that admirable couple. The impression was mutual. In a letter from Mr. Fletcher to Mr. Charles Wesley, (see Mr. Fletcher's works, vol. vii.) we find the following senti"You ask me a very singular question-I shall answer it with a smile, as I suppose you asked it. You might have remarked, that for some days before I set off for Madely, I considered matrimony with a different eye to what I had done: and the person who then presented herself to my inmagination was Miss Bosanquet. Her image pursued me for some hours the last day, and that so warmly, that I should, perhaps, have lost my peace, if a suspicion of the truth of Juvenal's proverb,-Veniunt a dote sagittæ, (The arrows come from the portion, rather than from the lady,) had not made me blush, fight, and flee to Jesus, who delivered me at the same moment from her image, and the idea of marriage."-There will be some regret, perhaps, felt, that a long and suffering time should intervene before that union. But it was all ordered for the good of both-for an eternal union-for the marriage of the Lamb! Ed. would go as far again in such a situation. I must here observe, though my income was increased, it was still not equal to our expenses, which were great on many accounts; I had also undertaken, in union with the young lady before-mentioned, some charitable affairs, which now all fell on me, and many of them I could not throw off for some years. The box did not yield us as much by half, as in the first year; for like the manna in the wilderness, which ceased when the Israelites got corn, so that provision, which had been exceedingly useful to us, seemed now to be suspended. Yet I felt very averse to the thought of business; I feared the armour I had not proved, and thought I should perhaps lose the little maintenance I had, rather than gain more. One day my friend being a little better, and all things at that time pretty comfortable; my own heart being also drawn with an unusual sweetness towards the Lord, I was walking in the garden,-when looking round me, it appeared as a paradise. I thought, how sweet is my situation! I dwell among my own people, a few who love me, and whom I love. The family is getting more and more as I could wish; and as to our circumstances, freely trust my God further than I can see, so that all my care on him is cast, and here I hope to end my days. Immediately a thought presented itself,*-But suppose God should call you from this place; and there should be yet some bitter cups for you to drink? I started at the thought; But said, Give me power to say, Thy will be done. I can About this time, Richard Taylor came from Yorkshire, being driven from thence by misfortunes. He left a wife and young family, and came to London in hopes of settling with his creditors. Sister Crosby, (who was now a member of my family,) had known him in Yorkshire, and Mr. Dornford and Mr. Murlin recommended him to me, and proposed his staying for a time at our house. He * It is by no means clear that this was from the Lord. Ed. We seemed (and I believe he then was,) a devoted man. were much interested in his behalf. When we sat down to dinner, the thought that his wife and children were in trouble and distress, would often so overwhelm him he could not take a morsel. He appeared a man of prayer, and one of the excellent of the earth. One morn Various circumstances occurred which seemed plainly to call us to seek another habitation, and Yorkshire was the place most likely. Yet such a call did not seem desirable to me. My reason seemed to point that way; my inclination was to remain where I then was. ing, however, as I was reading in my turn to the family, I came to these words, "Come out from thy kindred and thy country, and come into a land which I will show thee.' I felt myself penetrated with resignation, I felt my strong attachment to the place, as being the place of my birth, quite removed, and I seemed free to follow the leading of the Spirit of God, to any corner of the earth.* My friend and I began seriously to consider whether our work was not done in Layton-stone; whether, after spending about five years at this place, we were not now called to another spot. A physician had told us, if there were any hopes of sister Ryan's recovery, it would be by a journey. She had unexpectedly recovered at Bath before, and it might be so again. At this time she was very bad. I objected however to the moving her in so weak a condition ;-to which she answered, "If the Lord see fit to spare me, probably that is to be the means of raising me up; and if he has otherwise determined, I should be glad to see you settled first; for if you are left without me here, I think you will have great difficulty, from several circumstances; and probably such an exchange of place and situation, would put it in your power to alter and remove those difficulties. * Whether this leading was really of the Spirit of God or not, her submission to Him made her more than conqueror. Ed. My relations and Christian friends seemed all to approve, and we believed our way was plain for taking a journey to Leeds, and some adjacent places, in order to judge better whether they were suitable, and whether we could meet with a habitation that would answer our great family. Accordingly on June the seventh, 1768, I set out with my friend Ryan, and sister Crosby. Brother Taylor, who was now to return home, accompanied us on horseback. It may be supposed we had a troublesome journey * All those who have read, with pious interest, the beginning and progress of the house of God at Layton-stone, must regret its dissolution. Had it been favoured with any successors, of the same spirit, we might rejoice that those who had, as the salt of the earth, been the savour of life to that people, were about to season other places. But that was not the case. There were no such successors; and it is by no means clear, that there was such a call of divine Providence, as was sufficient to justify these chosen instruments in departing from a place so divinely visited, and in dissolving an establishment so owned of the Lord. Mr. Wesley's sentiments concerning that establishment, are very decisive. In his journal (see his works, vol. iv.) he says, "Thursday, December 12, 1765, I rode over to Laytonstone, and found one truly Christian family. This is what that at Kings wood should be, and would, if it had such governors." Again, “Thursday, February 12, 1767, I preached at Layton-stone. O what a house of God is here! Not only for decency and order, but for the life and power of religion. I am afraid there are very few such to be found in all the king's dominions."-Ought not the call to be clear, and even imperative, that led to the dissolution of such a house? We have indeed heard the blessed woman who was at the head of it, observing with grief, "We had increased our establishment with some whose spirit did not suit our house, so that jars and a divided interest arose.”—And could she think the devil had fallen asleep, or that he would not take the old way,-that he would not sow tares among the wheat? Such persons should have been dismissed, after all longsuffering had been manifested. We should add to our loving faith, courage, knowing for whom we are to act. As this way, it seems, was not taken, we cannot wonder that the leaven should win its way, and a cloud overspread the once illuminated mansion. In such a dark day, it is no wonder that "cares and fears" should assault her devoted heart, so that she hardly knew her own state, and had almost given up her confidence.-A new way seemed to open, of which Mr. Taylor was the harbinger-A way so entangled with briers and thorns, that there seemed, at length, hardly any |