tridges on the mountains? No; in order to secure a more friendly reception among them, I will visit them under the plainest appearance, with my staff in my hand." He went as an apostle through their churches, and conversed with their elders, instructed their youth, visited their sick, and exhorted from house to house in such a manner as strengthened the faith and comforted the hearts of the simple people. At Nyon, in Switzerland, the place of his birth, he preached with such effect as the people had never witnessed before. They would gladly have detained him. An aged clergyman, after trying to persuade him to remain among them, said to Mr. Ireland: " O, sir, how unfortunate for this country; during my day it has produced but one angel of a man, and it is our lot to be deprived of him." When Mr. Fletcher left the town, a large concourse of weeping people crowded around his carriage and followed him two miles on his journey. He returned to Madeley after an absence of about three months.

In 1768 the Countess of Huntingdon founded a theological institution at Trevecca, in the County of Brecknock, in Wales. Her design was to give to pious young men an education for the ministry, under the care of tutors eminent both for learning and holiness. The students were admitted for three years without charge either for board, tuition, or clothing. She applied to Mr. Fletcher to take the presidency of the college. He accepted it as a call of Providence, but would neither resign his charge at Madeley nor reside at Trevecca; and for his services he would accept no compensation whatever. As the superintendent of this school of the prophets, the burden of his labour was to promote the spirit of piety among the students, deeming it far the most important qualification of a messenger of Christ.

Accordingly, the time he spent among them was devoted mainly to preaching, religious conversation, and prayer. These ministrations were seldom without visible effect. At the close of a sermon or free conversation on experimental religion, he would say, "As many of you as are athirst for the fulness of the Spirit follow me to my room." Many would gladly follow him, and remain for hours in earnest prayer before God. It was on one of these occasions that, overwhelmed by the divine blessing, he thought he should die, and, in the intense rapture of the moment, he cried out, "O, my God, withhold thy hand or the vessel will break!"

Mr. Fletcher's connexion with the college was broken off in the following manner:-The minutes of the Wesleyan Conference for 1771 contained some propositions which startled the Calvinistic clergy in connexion with Lady Huntingdon. Her brother, the Rev. Walter Shirley, a weak man, wrote a circular letter to men of his own views, requesting them to go in a body to the next meeting of the Conference, and insist on a formal recantation of the obnoxious doctrines. In the meantime the countess caused a strict inquiry to be made concerning the opinions of both the masters and students, declaring that whoever did not disavow the heretical propositions of the minutes should quit the college. "I burn against them," said she. Mr. Joseph Benson was discharged, and Mr. Fletcher soon after resigned. But the matter did not end here. Mr. Fletcher took up his pen in defence of the assailed minutes, and a controversy ensued which has become as famous in the history of Calvinism in England, as the Synod of Dort was in Germany. Of his opponents we shall say nothing more than repeat the language of Robert Hall, (himself a Cal

vinist,) that "he would not incur the guilt of defaming the character of Mr. Wesley as they did for whole worlds." Mr. Fletcher's spirit in the controversy was as gentle as ever. Not a solitary word can be found in all he wrote betraying the least tang of bitterness, while the spirit of piety thoroughly penetrated every page of the immortal" Checks." Ironical he was, to a degree that might sometimes disturb the leaden countenance of gravity itself. His reasoning was both profound and acute. He touched the flaw of a sophism, and it instantly fell to pieces. He would logically point out the inconclusiveness of an argument, and leave it ridiculously exposed in the clear light of an apt illustration. The great saving doctrines of Christianity are nowhere better explained, guarded, and defended. Sometimes his ardent soul would rise above the dry work of debate, and break forth in a song of rejoicing. When one of his opponents charged him with undervaluing the grace and merits of Christ, he first refuted the accusation by showing the consistency of "working for life" with the doctrine of salvation by grace alone, and then exclaimed, "O, ye precious merits of my Saviour, and thou free grace of my God, I, for one, shall want you as long as the sun or moon endureth! Yea, when those luminaries shall cease to shine I shall wrap myself within you! My transported soul shall grasp you! My insatiate spirit shall plunge into your unfathomable depths! And while I run the never-ending circle of my blessed existence, my overflowing bliss shall spring from you, and I shall strike my golden harp to your eternal honour!" Fletcher's "Checks" may be read either as a clear and comprehensive defence of Christian doctrine, or as a book of devotion. The history of controversy has nothing like them.

During the period of this dispute, and for some time before it began, Mr. Fletcher's health was seriously impaired. His frequent journeys, in all seasons, from Madeley to the college, injured his constitution. But, though his vigour was diminished, he still went on with his work. He would study and write fifteen hours a day, living meanwhile on the scantiest fare. The consequences were manifest symptoms of consumption, attended with spitting of blood. At Mr. Wesley's instance, and in his company, Mr. Fletcher travelled through various parts of England, a distance in all of nearly twelve hundred miles. For a while his health seemed to improve; but after reaching London the symptoms grew worse, and his physicians pronounced him far gone in a pulmonary consumption. He retired from London to Stoke-Newington, where he was kindly nursed by his friends, Charles and Mary Greenwood. Among others who visited him during his stay in this family, were several of his opponents in the late controversy. The meeting was honourable to both parties. Rudely as they had treated him, he now received them in a most respectful and affectionate manner. "God only knows," said he, in one of his controversial pieces, "how much I love my dear honoured opponents." He now gave them the evidence that controversy, even theological controversy, could not sour his amiable spirit. Mr. Fletcher remained at Newington for nearly four months. The kindness he received affected his heart with such gratitude as indited the following passage of a most touching letter:

"You have received a poor Lazarus, though his sores were not visible. You have had compassion like the good Samaritan. You have admitted me to the enjoyment of your best things; and he that did not deserve to have the

dogs to lick his sores, has always found the members of Jesus ready to prevent, to remove, or to bear his burdens. And now what shall I say? What but, Thanks be to God for the unspeakable gift! And thanks to my dear friends for all their favours! They will, I trust, be found faithfully recorded in my breast, when the great Rewarder shall render to every man according to his works. Then shall a raised Lazarus appear in the gate, to testify of the love of Charles and Mary Greenwood, and of their godly sister."

After he left this hospitable family, he visited various places, and tried various remedies, with but small beneficial effect. At length, as a last resort, he went to the continent, and in company with his fast friend, Mr. Ireland, travelled through France, Italy, and into Switzerland, where he remained over three years among the scenes of his youth. As he was about leaving Dover for France, he wrote again to his two friends at Newington. Nothing can exceed the affectionate and grateful tone of this letter:

"Ten thousand blessings light upon the heads and hearts of my dear benefactors, Charles and Mary Greenwood! May their quiet retreat at Newington become a Bethel to them! May their offspring be born again there! Their poor pensioner travels on, though slowly, toward the grave. His journey to the sea seems to have hastened rather than retarded his progress to his old mother earth. May every providential blast blow him nearer to the haven of his Saviour's breast, where he hopes one day to meet all his benefactors, and among them those whom he now addresses! O my dear friends, what shall I render? What to Jesus? What to you? May he who invites the heavy-laden, take upon him all the burdens of kindness you have heaped