again, that I make the word of God the rule of all my actions; and that I no more follow any secret impulse instead thereof, than I follow Mohammed or Confucius."

Let Mrs. Fletcher be weighed in this balance, and I believe she will not be found wanting. She, like Mr. Wesley, and her excellent husband, served God in newness of the spirit, and not in the oldness of the letter. Hence her life was hid with Christ in God, and she had impressions, and consolations, which are the fruits and evidences of that life. But she well knew that the Spirit of truth never contradicts, never is inconsistent with himself. His written oracles, and his lively, and life-giving teach ing, agree together. She humbly and earnestly attended to that direction, To the law, and to the testimony; if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them. A writer of the present day has strangely said that he knew of no witness, no influence, no teach ing, but the written word of God. Perhaps he does not know any other. But there are many who walk with God who do. But if that writer only means that he knows, or acknowledges, no witness, no influence, no teaching, that is contrary to that holy word, or that is inconsistent with its one design, to save us from all sin into all holiness, every true Christian will applaud the sentiment. Mrs. Fletcher was watchful in this respect, being aware of the danger. Hence, though she might err, she never deviated from the path. She might mis. take; but she was always preserved from any departure from her God.

The pious reader will be glad to be assured that the whole of these memoirs are from Mrs. Fletcher's pen. In compiling her Life, I have left out much valuable matter, which was either contained, in substance, in other parts of these memoirs, or was not of sufficient interest to appear in the publication. I have also compressed what I thought was redundant, that the work might not be needlessly swelled. I have also thought it right to press her sentences into more conciseness. She wrote in the fulness of her heart, and with admirable sense; but her style was rather too copious, and sometimes too diffuse, for narrative or history. But I have taken care, at the same time, to give the admirable issues of her

enlightened mind, with all the force and simplicity with which she recorded them.

Those who have read the lives of those truly pious women, Madame Guion, Chantel, Bourignon, and others of the same class, which so abundantly prove that even the cloud of Romish superstition does not preclude the rays of the Sun of righteousness, and that involuntary ignorance God still winketh at, will be glad to see a life, in the Protestant Church, superior to any of them. Especially they will see that all in her may be safely imitated, being all according to the faith once delivered to the saints. They will see, also, not the fair picture only, but how it came to bear the stamp Divine. They may trace its progress, and be encouraged to believe that the Lord, who is ever the same, will thus work in them to will and to do, notwithstanding opposing corruptions; and they will thus be encouraged to give themselves up to that grace of God which teaches us to deny ungodliness, and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world; looking for that blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ. H. MOORE.

Birmingham, April 14, 1817.

THE

LIFE OF MRS. FLETCHER.

PART THE FIRST.

HER EARLY LIFE AND CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE.

I was born September the first, O. S., 1739, at Lay tonstone, in Essex. From my earliest years I can remember the Spirit of God striving with me, and offering me salvation; but I slighted these most gracious calls, and many times resisted the most tender invitations. One day, from a little circumstance which occurred when I was about four years old, I received such a conviction that God heareth prayer, that it often administered much comfort to me in seasons of trial and danger. Of this I had the greater need, being by nature fearful even to a degree of folly. How much this effeminacy of disposition has cost me, in my Christian warfare, and what suffer. ings, as well as spiritual loss, I have sustained from it, is known only to my heavenly Father.

When I was five years old, I began to have much concern about my eternal welfare, and frequently inquired of those about me, whether such and such things were sins. On Sabbath evenings, my dear father used to instruct us in the Church catechism. At those seasons I can remem. ber asking many questions. I wished to know whether any ever did love God with all their heart, and their neighbour as themselves; and whether it was really the com. mand of God that we should do so: also if the Bible really meant all it said? It seemed to me that if it did, I was wrong, and all about me in danger; for there appeared to be a great difference between the description of a Chris. tian given in the word of God, and those who walk under that name.

As I was a backward child, and of weaker understand. ing than the others, I was not well read in the Scriptures at that very early age; but sentences out of the word of

God frequently occurred to my mind, and made a deep impression; such as, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart. I would answer, But I do not love God at all; I do not know how to love him; and with respect to loving my neighbour thus, I am sure I do not; for though my sister is dearer to me than any body else, I do not love her as well as myself. Again, that word struck me much; St. Paul says, I have fought the good fight; and when I was baptized, the minister said I was to be "Christ's faithful soldier and servant, and fight manfully under his banner." This amazed me greatly. I thought, I am sure I do not fight, neither do I know what to fight against. But, above all, that sentence would follow me, Narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it; and, If ye are not of the world, the world will hate you. I did not feel it a narrow way, neither did the world hate me; therefore I questioned often whether I was not quite out of the way, yet it was not with any terror: I believea if the Lord saw that I was wrong, he would make me right, and sometimes I prayed for it. At other times I was very careless; yet these reflections still dwelt on my mind, and often perplexed me. I frequently asked questions about these subjects, but they were often very lightly treated. Those parts of Scripture were represented as very liable to be mistaken, and that they did not require obedience in all the strictness which I seemed to suppose. This well agreed with my carnal mind, and I thus soon quenched those tender convictions: so easy is it to drown the soft voice of the Spirit by carnal reasonings.

I now drew the following reflections: If the Bible does not mean all it seems to speak, with regard to the com mands of God, certainly the same allowance may be made for its threatenings; so that I began to believe there was no hell at all, or at least not half so terrible as I had been taught to think. This thought raised in me a dislike to the word of God, and great coldness and carelessness throughout all my conduct. But my adorable Lord did not give me up to the hardness of my heart, but still fol lowed me with his drawings. Often I thought, perhaps the Bible does mean what it says, and then I am not a Christian; and greatly did I wish to know what was the truth. My sister, who was nearly five years older than 1,

was also under a concern for her soul: she wished to know and do the will of God.

About this time there came a servant maid to live with my father, who had heard of, and felt some little of the power of inward religion. It was among the people called Methodists she had received her instructions. Seeing the uneasiness my sister was under, she took some opportu. nities of conversing with her. I was at this season with my grandmother. On my return home, my sister repeated the substance of these conversations to me. I well re member the very spot we stood on, and the words she spake, which, though we were but a few minutes together, sunk so deeply into my heart, that they were never after. ward erased. My reflections were suited to a child not seven years old. I thought if I became a Methodist, I should be sure of salvation; and determined, if ever I could get to that people, whatever it cost I would be one of them. But after a few conversations, and hearing my sister read some little books which this servant had given to her, I found out it was not the being joined to any people that would save me, but I must be converted, and have faith in Christ; that I was to be saved by believing; and that believing would make me holy, and give me a power to love and serve God.

The servant had now left our family, and we continued like blind persons groping our way in the dark; yet, though we had so far discerned the truth as to express it in the above manner, I could not comprehend it. My heart rose against the idea of being saved by a faith which I could not understand. One day, looking over the pic. tures in the Book of Martyrs, I thought it would be easier to burn than believe; and heartily did I wish that the Papists would come and burn me, and then I thought I should be quite safe. Yet these troubled thoughts were mixed with a degree of hope. I thought, God does love me, I believe, after all; and, perhaps, he will show me what it is to believe and be converted.

When I was between seven and eight years old, musing one day on that thought, What can it be to know my sins forgiven, and to have faith in Jesus? I felt my heart rise against God, for having appointed a way of salvation so hard to be understood; and with anguish of soul I said,