Where is mercy to be found, if it would stand in opposition to interest? How few will scruple, for a valuable consideration, to oppress the widow or fatherless? And where shall we find truth? Deceit and fraud go not out of our streets. Who is it that speaks truth from his heart? Whose words are the picture of his thoughts? Where is he that has" put away all lying," that never speaks what he does not mean? Who is ashamed of this? Indeed it was once said, and even by a statesman, "All other vices have had their patrons; but lying is so base, so abominable a vice, that never was any one found yet, who dared openly to plead for it." Would one imagine this writer lived in a court? Yea. and that in the present century? Did not he himself then, as well as all his brother statesmen, plead for a trade of deliberate lying? Did he not plead for the innocence, yea and the necessity, of employing spies? The vilest race of liars under the sun? Yet who ever scrupled using them, but lord Clarendon ?

3. Oh truth, whither art thou fled? How few have any acquaintance with thee? Do not we continually tell lies for the nonce, without gaining thereby either profit or pleasure? Is not even our common language replete with falsehood? Above a hundred years ago, the poet complained,

"It never was good day

Since lowly fawning was called compliment." What would he have said, had he lived a century later, when that art was brought to perfection?

4. Perhaps there is one palpable evidence of this, which is not usually attended to. If you blame a man in many other respects, he is not much affronted. But if you say, "He is a liar," he will not bear it, he takes fire at once. Why is this? Because a man can bare to be blamed, when he is conscious of his own innocence. But if you say, he is a liar, you touch a sore spot: he is guilty, and therefore cannot bear it

5. Is there a character more despicable than even that of a liar. Perhaps there is: even that of an epicure. And are we not a generation of epicures? Is not our belly our god? Are not eating and drinking our chief delight, our happiness? Is it not the main study (I fear the only study) of many honourable men, to enlarge the pleasure of tasting? When was luxury (not in food only, but in dress, furniture, equipage) carried to such a height in Great Britain, ever since it was a nation? We have lately extended the British empire almost over the globe. We have carried our laurels into Africa, into Asia, into the burning and the frozen climes of America. And what have we brought thence? All the elegance of vice, which either the eastern or western world could afford.

6. Luxury is constantly the parent of sloth. Every glutton will in due time be a drone. The more of meat and drink he devours, the less taste will he have for labour. This degeneracy of the Britons from their temperate, active forefathers, was taken notice of in the last cen tury. But if Mr. Herbert then said,

"Oh England, full of sin, but most of sloth,"

what would he have said now? Observe the difference between the last

and the present century, only in a single instance. In the last, the parliament used to meet hora quinta, ante meridiem! at five in the morn

ing. Could these Britons look out of their graves, what would they think of the present generation?

7. Permit me to touch on one article more, wherein indeed we excel all the nations upon earth. Not one nation under the canopy of heaven can vie with the English in profaneness. Such a total neglect, such an utter contempt of God, is no where else to be found. In no other streets, except in Ireland, can you hear on every side,

"The horrid oath, the direful curse,

That latest weapon of the wretch's war,

And blasphemy, sad comrade of despair!'

8. Now let each of us lay his hand upon his heart, and say, "Lord, Is it I?" Have I added to this flood of unrighteousness and ungodliness, and thereby to the misery of my countrymen? Am not I guilty in any of the preceding respects? And do not they suffer, because I have sinned?" If we have any tenderness of heart, any bowels of mercies, any sympathy with the afflicted, let us pursue this thought, till we are deeply sensible of our sins, as one great cause of their sufferings.

9. But now the plague is begun, and has already made such ravages both in England and America, what can we do, in order that it may be stayed? How shall we stand "between the living and the dead?" Is there any better way to turn aside the anger of God, than that prescribed by St. James; "Purge your hands, ye sinners, and purify your hearts, ye double minded?" First, "Purge your hands." Immediately put away the evil of your doings. Instantly flee from sin, from every evil word and work, as from the face of a serpent. "Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth;" no uncharitable, no unprofitable conversation. Let no guile be found in your mouth: speak to every man the truth from your heart. Renounce every way of acting, however gainful, which is contrary either to justice or mercy. Do to every one as, in parallel circumstances, you would wish he should do unto you. Be sober, temperate, active; and in every word and work, Mabour to have a conscience void of offence towards God and towards man. Next, through the almighty grace of him that loved you, and gave himself for you, "purify your hearts by faith." Be no longer double minded, halting between earth and heaven, striving to serve God and mammon. Purify your hearts from pride;-humbling yourselves under the mighty hand of God;-from all party zeal, anger, resentment, bitterness, which now, especially, will easily beset you;from all prejudice, bigotry, narrowness of spirit;-from impetuosity, and impatience of contradiction;-from love of dispute, and from every degree of an unmerciful or implacable temper. Instead of this earthly. devilish wisdom, let" the wisdom from above" sink deep into your hearts: that "wisdom" which "is first pure," then "peaceable, easy to be entreated," convinced, persuaded, or appeased,-" full of mercy and good fruits; without partiality,"-embracing all men; "without hypocrisy,"genuine and unfeigned. Now, if ever, "putting away all malice, all clamour," railing," and evil speaking: be ye kind one to another,"-to all your brethren and countrymen,-“ tender hearted” all that are in distress; "forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you."

10. And "now let my counsel be acceptable to" you, to every one of you present before God. "Break off thy sins by repentance, and thy

iniquities by showing mercy to the poor, if it may be a lengthening of thy tranquillity;" of what degree of it still remains among us. Show mercy more especially to the poor widows, to the helpless orphans of your countrymen, who are now numbered among the dead, who fell among the slain in a distant land. Who knoweth but the Lord will yet be entreated, will calm the madness of the people, will quench the flames of contention, and breathe into all the spirit of love, unity, and concord. Then brother shall not lift up sword against brother, neither shall they know war any more. Then shall plenty and peace flourish in our land, and all the inhabitants of it be thankful for the innumerable blessings which they enjoy, and shall "fear God, and honour the king."

London, Nov. 7, 1775.

SERMON *LVIII.

Preached on occasion of the death of the Rev. Mr. John Fletcher, Vicar of Madeley,

Shropshire.

TO THE READER.

It was a consciousness of my own inability to describe, in a manner worthy of the subject, such a person as Mr. Fletcher, which was one great reason of my not writing this sooner. I judged, only an Apelles was proper to paint an Alexander. But I at length submitted to importunity, and hastily put together some memorials of this great man, intending, if God permit, when I have more leisure, and more materials, to write a fuller account of his life. JOHN WESLEY

London, Nov. 9, 1785.

"Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace," Psalm xxxvii, 37.

In the preceding verses, taken together with this, there is a beau tiful contrast between the death of a wicked and that of a good man. "I myself," says the Psalmist, "have seen the ungodly in great power, and flourishing like a green bay tree. I went by, and, lo! he was gone: I sought him, but his place could no where be found." Dost thou desire to be found happy, both in life and in death? Then "keep innocency, and take heed unto the thing that is right: for that shall bring a man peace at the last." The words are rendered in the new translation with far more force and elegance. "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that man is peace." It is not improbable, that David, while he uttered these words, had a particular instance before his eyes. Such an instance was that of the great and good man, whom God has not long ago taken to himself.

In discoursing on these words, I purpose, first, briefly to inquire, Who is the person that is here spoken of, "the perfect, the upright man?" I will endeavour, secondly, to explain the promise, "that shall bring a man peace at the last;" or, as it is expressed in the other version, "the end of that man is peace.' I will then, with the divine assistance, show a little more at large, in how glorious a manner it was fulfilled in the end of that "perfect and upright man," who has been lately removed from us.

I. 1. I am, first, briefly to inquire, Who is the person that is here spoken of, "the upright and perfect man?" In speaking on this head, I shall not endeavour to describe the character of an upright Jew, such as David himself was; or any of those holy men that lived under the Mosaic dispensation: it more nearly imports us to consider such an upright man, as are those that live under the Christian dispensation; such as have lived and died since "life and immortality have been brought to light by the gospel."

2. In this sense, he is a perfect and upright man, who believes in the name of the Son of God: he is one in whom it has pleased the Father to reveal the Son of his love; and who, consequently, is able to declare, "The life that I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me." He is one that finds "the Spirit of God witnessing with his spirit, that he is a child of God ;" and unto whom Jesus Christ is made of God, "wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption."

3. This faith will, undoubtedly, work by love. Accordingly every Christian believer has "the love of God shed abroad in his heart, by the Holy Ghost which is given unto him." And, loving God, he loves hisTM brother also: his good will extends to every child of man. By this, as well as by the fruits of love, lowliness, meekness, and resignation, he shows that there is the same "mind in him which was in Christ Jesus." 4. As to his outward behaviour, the upright Christian believer is blameless and unreprovable. He is holy, as Christ that has called him is holy, in all manner of conversation; ever labouring to have a conscience void of offence, towards God and towards man. He not only avoids all outward sin, but "abstains from all appearance of evil." He steadily walks in all the public and private ordinances of the Lord blameless. He is zealous of good works; as he hath time, doing good, in every kind and degree, to all men. And in the whole course of his life, he pursues one invariable rule,-whether he eats or drinks, or whatever he does, to do all to the glory of God.

II. And surely "the end of that man is peace:" the meaning of which words we are now, in the second place, to consider.

I do not conceive this immediately to refer to that glorious peace, which is prepared for him in the presence of God to all eternity; but rather to that which he will enjoy in the present world, before his spirit returns to God that gave it. Neither does it seem directly to refer to outward peace, or deliverance from outward trouble; although it is true, many good men, who had been long buffeted by adversity, and troubled on every side, have experienced an entire deliverance from it, and enjoyed a remarkable calm before they went hence. But this seems chiefly to refer to inward peace; even that "peace of God which passeth all understanding." Therefore it is no wonder that it cannot be fully and adequately expressed in human language. We can only say, it is an unspeakable calmness and serenity of spirit, a tranquillity in the blood of Christ, which keeps the souls of believers, in their latest hour, even as a garrison keeps a city; which keeps not only their hearts, all their passions and affections, but also their minds, all the motions of their understanding and imagination, and all the workings of their reason, in Christ Jesus. This peace they experienced in a higher or lower degree, (suppose they continued in the faith,) from the time they first found

redemption in the blood of Jesus, even the forgiveness of sins. But when they have nearly finished their course, it generally flows as a river, even in such a degree, as it had not before entered into their hearts to conceive. A remarkable instance of this, out of a thousand, occurred many years ago. Enoch Williams, one of the first of our preachers that was stationed at Cork, (who had received this peace when he was eleven years old, and never lost it for an hour,) after he had rejoiced in God with joy unspeakable, during the whole course of his illness, was too much exhausted to speak many words, but just said, "Peace! peace and died.

III. So was the Scripture fulfilled. But it was far more gloriously fulfilled in that late eminent servant of God; as will appear if we consider a few circumstances, first, of his life, and secondly, in his triumph

ant death.

1. Indeed we have, as yet, but a very imperfect knowledge of his life. We know little more of his early years, than that he was from his infancy so remarkably regardless of food, that he would scarce take enough to sustain life; and that he had always much of the fear of God, and a real sense of religion. He was born September 12, in the year 1729, at Nyon, in Switzerland, of a very reputable family. He went through the usual course of academical studies, in the university of Geneva. One of his uncles, who was at that time a general officer in the imperial service, then invited him into the same service, promising to procure him a commission. But just as he came into Germany, the war was at an end. Being so far on his way, he was then invited into Holland, by another uncle, who had, a little before, been desired, by a correspondent in England, to procure a tutor for a gentleman's sons. He asked Mr. Fletcher whether he was willing to go into England, and undertake this office? He consented, and accordingly went over to England, and undertook the care of Mr. Hill's two sons, at Tern in Shropshire and he continued in that office, till the young gentlemen went to the university.

2. When Mr. Hill went up to London to attend the parliament, he took his lady and Mr. Fletcher with him. While they were dining at St. Alban's, he walked out into the town, but did not return, till the coach was set out for London. However, a saddle horse being left, he came after, and overtook them on the same evening. Mrs. Hill asking him, why he stayed behind, he said, "I was walking through the market place, and I heard a poor old woman talk so sweetly of Jesus Christ, that I knew not how the time passed away." "I will be hanged," said Mrs. Hill, "if our tutor does not turn Methodist by and by!" "Methodist, madam," said he, "pray what is that?" She replied, "Why the Methodists are a people that do nothing but pray. They are praying all day and all night." "Are they?" said he; "then with the help of God I will find them out, if they be above ground." He did, not long after, find them out, and had his desire; being admitted into the society. While he was in town he met in Mr. Edwards's class, and lost no opportunity of meeting. And he retained a peculiar regard for Mr. Edwards to the day of his death.

3. It was not long before he was pressed in spirit to call sinners to repentance. Seeing the world all around him lying in wickedness, he found an earnest desire