over the Methodists after you, but to ease you a
little in your old age, and to be in the way of receiving, perhaps
doing, more good.' Wesley was very anxious that Fletcher should be his
successor, and proposed it to him in a characteristic letter; but
Fletcher declined the office, and had he accepted, the plan could never
have been carried out, for the hale old man survived his younger friend
several years. The last few years of Fletcher's life were cheered by the
companionship of one to whom no higher praise can be awarded than to say
that she was worthy of being Fletcher's wife. Next to Susanna Wesley
herself, Mrs. Fletcher stands pre-eminent among the heroines of
Methodism. In 1785 the saint entered into his everlasting rest, dying in
harness at his beloved Madeley. His death-bed scene is too sacred to be
transferred to these pages.

Indeed, there is something almost unearthly about the whole of this
man's career. He is an object in some respects rather for admiration
than for imitation. He could do and say things which other men could not
without some sort of unreality. John Wesley, with his usual good sense,
warns his readers of this in reference to one particular habit, viz.
'the facility of raising useful observations from the most trifling
incidents.' 'In him,' he says, 'it partly resulted from nature, and was
partly a supernatural gift. But what was becoming and graceful in Mr.
Fletcher would be disgustful almost in any other.' An ordinary
Christian, for example, who, when he was having his likeness taken,
should exhort 'the limner, and all that were in the room, not only to
get the outlines drawn, but the colourings also of the image of Jesus on
their hearts;' who, 'when ordered to be let blood,' should, 'while his
blood was running into the cup, take occasion to expatiate on the
precious blood-shedding of the Lamb of God;' who should tell his cook
'to stir up the fire of divine love in her soul,' and intreat his
housemaid 'to sweep every corner in her heart;' who, when he received a
present of a new coat, should, in thanking the donor, draw a minute and
elaborate contrast between the broadcloth and the robe of Christ's
righteousness--would run the risk of making not only himself, but the
sacred subjects which he desired to recommend, ridiculous. Unfortunately
there were not a few, both in Fletcher's day and subsequently, who did
fall into this error, and, with the very best intentions, dragged the
most sole