“Remember me to Miss Furley.[48] Were I less averse to writing, I would have written to her, to beg her not to faint at any time, but be a zealous follower of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises; but I trust she does not want the advice as often as I do. Let me know how she does in the Lord and in the flesh, and desire her to remember me at the throne of grace. Adieu. “JOHN FLETCHER.” Footnote 48: Dorothy Furley, the youngest daughter of John Furley, a Dutch and Turkey merchant, was born at West Ham in 1730. She was converted in early life, and became acquainted with the Countess of Huntingdon, Miss Bosanquet, the Wesley brothers, Miss Johnson, Mrs. Ryan, and many others of the first Methodists, by whom she was held in high esteem. In 1764, she was married to Mr. Downs, one of Wesley’s local preachers in London. After her husband’s death, she removed to Leeds, and died July 28, 1807. The written directions respecting her funeral concluded with these words: “Glory, glory, glory be to my gracious God and Saviour! I live in the full assurance of faith and hope that I shall see my Saviour’s face, and behold that glory which He had with the Father before all worlds, but which He left for my sake. To Him I owe all my salvation, here and to all eternity. To Him, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, be all honour, dominion, and majesty, now and through all ages! Amen. Hallelujah! Amen.”—_Methodist Magazine_, 1818, p. 222. Charles Wesley proposed that, during the ensuing Parliamentary session, Fletcher should be paid for his services in the London chapels. In the same spirit of self-abasement as is displayed in the foregoing letters, Fletcher replied as follows:— “_September 14, 1759._ “MY DEAR SIR,—A few days ago, the Lord gave me two or three lessons on poverty of spirit, but, alas! how have I forgotten them! I saw, I felt, that I was entirely void of wisdom and virtue. I was ashamed of myself; and I could say, with a degree of feeling which I cannot describe, ‘_Nil ago; nil habeo; sum nil; in pulvero serpo._’ I could _then_ say what Gregory Lopez was enabled to say at all times, ‘There is no man of whom I have not a better opinion than of myself.’ I could have placed myself under the feet of the most atrocious sinner, and have acknowledged him for a saint in comparison of myself. If ever I am humble and patient, if ever I enjoy solid peace of mind, it must be _in this very spirit_. Ah! why do I not find these virtues? Because I am filled with _self-sufficiency_, which blinds me and hinders me from doing justice to my own demerits. O pray that the spirit of Jesus may remove these scales from my eyes _for ever_, and compel me to retire into my own nothingness.