“MY DEAR FRIEND,—The dream of life will soon be over; the morning of eternity will soon succeed. Away then with all the shadows of time! Away from them to the _Eternal Substance—to Jesus, the First and the Last, by whom, and for whom, all things consist_. If you take Jesus to be your head, by the mystery of faith, you will be united to the resurrection and the life. The bitterness of death is past, my dear friend. _Only_ look to Jesus. He died for you—died in your place—died under the frowns of heaven, that we might die under its smiles. Regard neither unbelief nor doubt. Fear neither sin nor hell. Choose neither life nor death. All these are swallowed up in the immensity of Christ, and are triumphed over in His cross. Fight the good fight of faith. Hold fast your confidence in the atoning, sanctifying blood of the Lamb of God. Confer no more with flesh and blood. Go, meet the bridegroom. Behold He cometh! Trim your lamp. Quit yourself like a soldier of Jesus. I _entreat_ you, as a companion in tribulation; I _charge_ you, as a minister, go, at every breath you draw, to Him, who says, ‘Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out:’ and ‘He that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.’ Joyfully sing the believer’s song, ‘O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ!’ Let your surviving friends triumph over you, as one faithful unto death,—as one triumphing in death itself.”[133] Footnote 132: Whitefield’s Works, vol. iii., p. 339. Footnote 133: Letters, 1791, p. 189. Three weeks after this, the Christian lady thus addressed was dead.[134] Fletcher, in a letter to Mr. Ireland, wrote:— “Poor Miss Hatton died full of serenity, faith, and love. The four last hours of her life were better than all her sickness. When the pangs of death were upon her, the comforts of the Almighty bore her triumphantly through, and some of her last words were: ‘Grieve not at my happiness. This world is no more to me than a bit of burnt paper. Grace! Grace! A sinner saved! I wish I could tell you half of what I feel and see. I am going to keep an everlasting Sabbath. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be to God, who giveth me the victory, through my Lord Jesus Christ!’ It is very remarkable that she had hardly any joy in her illness; but God made her ample amends in her extremity. He keeps His strongest cordial for the time of need. Blessed, for ever blessed, be His holy name!”[135] Footnote 134: _Ibid_, p. 190. Footnote 135: Letters, 1791, p. 192. As already stated, Fletcher, when in London, had preached in Tottenham Court Road Chapel. Whitefield wrote a letter, thanking him for his services. Fletcher’s highly characteristic reply was as follows:—