“Seventhly. When you have considered your lost state, as a sinner, together with the greatness, the freeness, and the suitableness of Christ’s salvation, believe in Him. Be not afraid to venture upon and trust in Him. Cast yourself on Him by frequent acts of reliance, and stay your soul on Him by means of His promises. Pray much for faith, and be not afraid of accepting, using, and thanking God for _a little_. “Eighthly. Beware of impatience, repining, and peevishness, which are the sins of sick people. Be gentle, easy to be pleased, and resigned as the bleeding Lamb of God. Wrong tempers indulged, grieve, if they do not quench, the Spirit. “Ninthly. Do not repine at being in a strange country, far from your friends; and, if your going to France does not answer the end proposed for your body, it will answer a spiritual end to your soul. “Tenthly. In praying, reading, hearing any person read, and meditating, do not consult feeble, fainting, weary flesh and blood; for, at this rate, death may find you idle, and supine, instead of striving to enter in at the strait gate; and, when your strength and vigour fail, remember that the Lord is the strength of your life and your portion for ever.”[127] Footnote 126: _Ibid_, p. 190. Footnote 127: Letters, 1791, p. 174. Not many even faithful ministers of Christ would have written in such a strain as this to a young lady, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, leaving her native land, and apparently dying; but Fletcher, like all the first Methodists, was intensely in earnest, and never thought of sacrificing fidelity for the sake of seeming courtesy. The young lady’s father had given Fletcher a hamper of wine, and a parcel of broadcloth to be made into a suit of clothes, kindly requesting him not to send his coat again to be patched. In acknowledging this generous present, the needy and somewhat seedy Vicar wrote as follows:— “MADELEY, _July —, 1766_. “MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—You should have a little mercy on your friends, in not loading them with such burdens of beneficence. How would you like to be loaded with kindnesses you could not return? Were it not for a little of that grace which makes us not only willing, but happy to be nothing, to be obliged and dependent, your present would make me quite miserable. I submit to be clothed and nourished by you, as your servants are, without the happiness of serving you. To yield to this is as hard to friendship as it is to submit to be saved by free grace, without one scrap of our own righteousness. However, we are allowed, both in religion and friendship, to ease ourselves by thanks and prayers, till we have an opportunity of doing it by actions. I thank you then, my dear friend, and pray to God that you may receive His benefits as I do yours.