words, self-love reflected, which purity of heart will remove. But as similitude joins, and dissimilitude sepa. rates, so those spirits who are joined by their similitude of love and pure worship, who having been led in one path, (and probably prepared for one mansion,) can as easily retain a peculiar union without any diminution of their love to others, as a married couple can retain their love to each other, notwithstanding they have a dozen children to share it with them. My experience in the love of God is very shallow; yet I have felt enough to satisfy me, that the more our love to God increases, the nearer will be our love to each other, and the more indis. soluble the tie; and the stronger this union, the more it will reflect on all around; and turning to its source, the love of Jesus will reflect back again with a perpetually increasing purity.

But I build my strongest argument on those words, O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? If death can eternally separate kindred spirits, it hath eternally a sting! And if the grave can eternally retain the body, it would have an eternal victory. But there is a covenant made with our dust. His elect shall be gathered from the four winds. Bone shall come to its bone, and not one forget its socket. And shall nothing be lost but our spiritual union? Shall the grand enemy still have that one trophy left to glory in, and to insult over the saints of God? Shall we believe him when he says, "A day is coming in which your closest unions, your purest ties of friendship, shall be no more! All that wonderful chain of providences, in which angels were employed in bringing you together, shall be sunk in eternal oblivion! Indeed this was not the original design of the Almighty; but I have overturned this one great design of love, and that so effectually, that the Saviour himself could not restore it; and instead of having abolished all the consequences of death, it leaves the scar of separation for ever! Now I am the father of death, and have so far conquered, that what God hath in design eternally joined together, I have eternally put assunder!" Ah, no! glory be to our victorious Conqueror! death shall be for ever swallowed up in complete victory! He hath abolished it, with all its conse quences, and brought life and immortality to light by the

Gospel. He hath broken down the wall, removed the veil; and through him we are come to the Church of the first-born, to the spirits of just men made perfect. We are fellow citizens with the saints, and of the household of God! And having overcome the sharpness of death, he hath already opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers. Perhaps some may say, But if it be thus, why do not the Scriptures plainly tell us death is no division but on our side; and that our friends still see, hear, and are about us? I answer, There may be many reasons why a veil should be drawn over this heavenly secret. It is probable the primitive Church knew it more perfectly; but what was the consequence? When they left their first love, they no longer held the Head, but ran into the false humility of the worship of angels, instead of worshipping God only, and adoring him for the angelic ministry. Perhaps some communion with departed spirits caused the first step into the egregious errors of the Papists; and man, ever prone to extremes, knew not how to throw away the abuse, without throwing away the use of this heavenly secret. Nevertheless, "The secret of the Lord is still with the righteous, and his ear is open to their prayers. He will manifest himself to them, though not unto the world ;" and he will grant to heavenly minds, when he sees good, a heavenly communication with the Church triumphant.

About this time I had a letter from my brother-in-law, De la Flechere, in Switzerland, letting me know that his son was coming to England, and he wished him to spend some time with me; hoping the sight of the place on which his dear uncle had spent so many years' labour might, with the blessing of God, raise some thoughts in his mind of the importance of a religious life. I laid the matter before the Lord, believing he would order all right; for ever since the removal of my beloved husband, I have so experienced the effects of his last prayer, "Head of the Church, be head to my wife," that I was not permitted to doubt that all concerning me was under the Lord's immediate direction. And though my state was not for the present joyous, yet, through all, I inwardly believed the hairs of my head were numbered. Some particular circumstances, however, caused me to think it was the order of God I should go to Bristol, Bath, and some other

places, and that now was the time; for after my return, it might be that the Lord had something for me to do or to suffer here.

Since my marriage I had travelled a good deal with my dear Mr. Fletcher, and in these journeys had often suffered much through needless fears; the most predominant passion of my soul by nature. And what, thought I, should such a poor creature as I do with only Sally, and under some disadvantages I had not then? But still I believed it to be the call of God.

At the time I had appointed to set out, there was an appearance of much snow, which caused my friends to advise me to put off my journey a little longer; but as this would have deranged some plans, I thought it better to follow the course which I had fixed. When all was ready, and I was waiting for the carriage, I cast my eyes on the Bible which lay open before me, at the thirty-fourth Psalm. Much of it was applied to my heart; in particu lar these words: O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together. I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. Faith sprung up in my heart. I said, It shall be fulfilled; and from that hour I have felt such a change, in regard to fear, as I can give no one an idea of, unless they should have suffered as I have done, from the same infirmity.

All the way as I went through various things, which would once have been very painful, I could feel those words my own which for so many years I had longed after, viz., that "resignation left me no room for fear." No; "The angel of the Lord encampeth around about them that fear him, and delivereth them."

Many providences I met with in my journey, and very clearly did I see the hand of the Lord in various places and things. While I was at Bristol, in the house of my kind and affectionate friend, sister Johnson, I was agreeably surprised with the sight of Mr. H***, who had left his native place, and was just come to settle at Bristol, because he believed it most profitable for his soul. He presented me to his wife, a serious woman, saying, My dear, this is your mother also, for she is mine; and both assured me of their determination to be entirely devoted to God. As there was something singular in this affair

***

I will mention the particulars. In the journey which I took with sister Ryan to Clifton, for her health, when I was about the age of twenty-seven, we lodged in a house where the family were very ungodly. There was only my sick friend, myself, and the nurse; and our whole apartments consisted of two chambers. After we had been there two or three days, we observed some things which we did not like very well. One night there was a strange noise below stairs, as of very rattling, wild company. It may be supposed it did not well agree with my sorrowful heart; for at that season I had nothing to expect (humanly speaking) but to bury my dear friend there, or carry her back in a coffin,-only she had various promises to the contrary, which sometimes I believed, and sometimes doubted. On inquiring next morning, they informed us that "Mr. H* was come, and now they should be all alive." I had before asked the family (who did not appear to be persons of the best character) if they would choose to come up into my room in the morning to family prayer, as they were only women? But they never, as I remember, accepted the invitation. However, some days after the above mentioned racket, they sent me word, "If I pleased, Mr. H*** and themselves would wait on me to prayer the next morning." I did not dare to refuse, and answered they were welcome. God only knew what a cross I felt in so doing! I had all the reason that could be, to think they only wanted to divert themselves; and the receiving a wild young gentleman, with such gay ladies, into my bedchamber, seemed to me a strange enterprise. The chapter I chose to read was the twenty-fifth of Matthew. I spoke with freedom on each of the parables, and found God was with my mouth. I did not much look off the book, till about the middle of the parable of the talents, I cast my eyes toward Mr. H ***, and was surprised to find his earnestly fixed on me, and swimming with tears. When prayer was over, he respectfully returned me thanks, and went down stairs. After attending three mornings, he stopped behind the family, and told me, when they were gone, that he was convinced he had led a bad life, and he wished to learn how to do better; that he was free from all business, had a good fortune, and was only here accidentally; and

if I would tell him where he could get instruction, and help for his soul, he would go any where; "for this house," said he, "I must leave." From the first morning there was no more noise, singing, breaking glasses, or rude behaviour of any kind. As my friend grew worse, we were desired to leave Clifton, and try Bath. There she recovered to admiration; and in a short time we returned to the orphan house at Laytonstone. Mr. H*** made good his words; and cultivating the friendship of some pious persons whom we had recommended to him in London, particularly brother George Clark, he became much confirmed in the truth; and hath ever since remained a follower thereof, and a promoter of the prosperity of Zion. At Bristol also I met with poor Fanny,* much grown in grace, and adorning her profession. And after a month's absence, I was brought again in peace to Madeley, and constrained to say,

"In all my ways his hand I own;

His ruling providence I see."

I now found my dear love's relations in Switzerland laid greatly on my mind in prayer; and sometimes when engaged therein, it has seemed to me as if his dear spirit so joined with me as I cannot express; and for his nephew in particular, whom I expected, I was greatly drawn out in intercession.

Being poorly one Saturday night, about ten o'clock, (the last week in May,) I was about retiring to bed, when word was brought me that my nephew was arrived. He could speak but little English, and I but little French. This was the first I had seen of my dear husband's relations. He was of his own name, his godson, and his only nephew. But alas! I now received him alone, and instead of showing him his dear uncle, and sweet instructer, I could only lead him to the silent tomb, and say, "Live as he lived, and thou shalt die as he died."

I found him, as I expected, quite carnal, and very averse to the things of God. As my spirits were very weak, and his pretty high, I wished to have him rather as a visiter than one of my family; and Providence so appointed for Mr. Horne, the curate, understanding French,

me.

*The Jewess mentioned in the former visit.