rying for the light. On the
_other_ hand, he saw all those sweet and sacred ties that bound him to
his native land--his devoted people, his admiring friends, and, hardest
tie of all to break, the lady whom he had fondly hoped to make his
bride. Here, on the _one_ hand, stood comfort, popularity, success and
love! And here, on the _other_, stood cruel hardship, endless
difficulties, constant loneliness, and an early grave! 'But how,' he
writes, 'can I hesitate? _I am but a brand plucked from the burning!_'

_A brand in peril of sharing the general destruction!_

_A brand seen, and prized, and rescued!_

_A brand at whose blaze other flames might be lit!_

_A brand plucked from the burning!_

IV

'_Is not this a brand plucked from the burning?_'--it was John Wesley's
text. To the end of his days John Wesley preserved the picture of the
fire at the old rectory, the fire from which he, as a child of six, was
only rescued in the nick of time. And, underneath the picture, John
Wesley had written with his own hand the words: '_Is not this a brand
plucked from the burning?_'

'_Is not this a brand plucked from the burning?_'--it was John
Fletcher's text. John Wesley thought John Fletcher, the Vicar of
Madeley, the holiest man then living. 'I have known him intimately for
thirty years,' says Mr. Wesley. 'In my eighty years I have met many
excellent men; but I have never met his equal, nor do I expect to find
such another on this side of eternity.' From what source did that
perennial stream of piety spring? 'When I saw that all my endeavors
availed nothing,' says Mr. Fletcher, in describing his conversion, 'I
almost gave up hope. But, I thought, Christ died for _all_; therefore He
died for _me_. He died to pluck such sinners as I am _as brands from the
burning_! I felt my helplessness and lay at the feet of Christ. I cried,
coldly, yet, I believe, sincerely, "Save me, Lord, _as a brand snatched
out of the fire_! Stretch forth Thine almighty arm and save Thy lost
creature by free, unmerited grace!"'

'_Is not this a brand plucked from the burning?_'--it was Thomas
Olivers' text. Thomas Olivers was one of Wesley's veterans, the author
of the well-known hymn, 'The God of Abraham praise.' He went one day to
hear George Whitefield preach. The text was, '_Is not this a brand
plucked from the burning?_' 'When the sermon began,' he says, 'I was
certainly a dreadful enemy to God and to all that is good, and one of
the most pro