_ENTERS THE MINISTRY._
From this brief glance at Fletcher's habits of devotion we return to
the history of his life. He was not destined to be a religious recluse,
cultivating in quiet places "a fugitive and cloistered virtue." His
thirst for communion with God was equalled by his passion for winning
souls. If the one drove him to retirement, the other thrust him into
society. He longed for others to possess the salvation that he had
found. On such a matter he could not be silent, and he became a
preacher almost before he knew it. Both in personal intercourse and in
addressing assemblies, his foreign accent and a certain winning
simplicity of manner proved very attractive; but the hours spent alone
with God and his own soul were the secret of a power to appeal and
persuade that was well-nigh irresistible.
Naturally it was taken for granted that his proper vocation was the
ministry. He was pressed by one and another, and particularly by Mr.
Hill, to enter holy orders; but his mind was not yet made up. His
former shrinking from an office for which he felt himself unfit was not
wholly removed. He thought it might be better to serve God in a
private and less responsible way of life; and yet, from time to time,
the work of the ministry attracted and exercised his thoughts in a
manner that might be taken to indicate God's will.
In his perplexity he sought counsel from Wesley. It is not known when,
or under what circumstances, he had become personally known to him, but
the letter in which he asks his advice is probably the first he ever
wrote to Wesley, and the tone of it suggests that personal
acquaintance, if it had begun, was as yet very slight.
"TERN,
_Nov. 24th, 1756._
REV. SIR,--
"As I look upon you as my spiritual guide, and cannot doubt
of your patience to hear, and your experience to answer, a
serious question proposed by any of your people, I freely
lay my case before you."
[After giving an account of his early history, and more
recent experience, he tells Wesley that he had been offered
a title to orders, and asks,--]
"Now, sir, the question which I beg you to decide is,
whether I must and can make use of that title to get into
orders. For, with respect to the living, were it vacant, I
have no mind to it, because I think I could preach with more
fruit in my own country and in my own tongue.
"I am in suspense. On one side my heart tells me I must try,
and it tells me so whenever I feel any degree of the love of
God and man; but on the other, when I examine whether I am
fit for it, I so plainly see my want of gifts, and
especially of that _soul_ of all the labours of a minister
of the gospel, _love_, _continual_, _universal_, _flaming
love_, that my confidence disappears, I accuse myself of
pride to dare to entertain the desire of supporting the ark
of the Lord. As I am in both these frames successively, I
must own, sir, I do not see plainly which of the two ways
before me I can take with safety, and I shall be glad to be
ruled by you.... I know how precious is your time; I desire
no long answer; _persist_ or _forbear_ will satisfy and
influence, sir,
Your unworthy servant,
J. FLETCHER."
No reply to this letter has been preserved, but there can be no doubt
as to the nature of Wesley's advice. He recommended Fletcher's being
ordained; he probably dissuaded him from returning to Switzerland, and
he discouraged the notion of his settling in a parish. He greatly
desired to see Fletcher in the itinerant work in which he himself was
engaged, the more so as his brother Charles was now withdrawing from
it.
On Sunday, March 6th, 1757, Fletcher received deacon's orders from the
Bishop of Hereford, and on the following Sunday he was ordained priest
by the Bishop of Bangor, at the request of the Bishop of Hereford. The
day after receiving priest's orders he was licensed "to perform the
office of curate in the parish church of Madeley, in the county of
Salop," and "a yearly salary of twenty-five pounds, to be paid
quarterly, for serving the same," was assigned to him.
This license to the curacy must not be confounded with his appointment,
more than three years afterwards, to the vicarage of Madeley. Fletcher
has no history as curate of Madeley. The appointment was in fact a
nominal one, for it is tolerably certain that he exercised no spiritual
function whatever in Madeley for at least two years after his
ordination. The title to orders was probably given to him by the Rev.
Rowland Chambre, then Vicar of Madeley, at Mr. Hill's request, with the
understanding that the curacy should be only nominal. The position of
chaplain and tutor in Mr. Hill's family, though not furnishing a legal
title to orders, would be considered equivalent to a cure of souls. The
fact that he was ordained deacon and priest on two consecutive Sundays,
the customary interval of a year being dispensed with, may be ascribed
either to the influence of Mr. Hill, or of Wesley himself; or it may be
taken as proof that his character was admittedly high, and that in his
examination or interviews with the bishop, he had shown himself
exceptionally well qualified, both intellectually and morally.
His connexion with Mr. Hill's family drew to its close. It did not
afford him the sphere for Christian work that he desired, ind involved
him in occasional embarrassments and difficulties. Mr. Hill was
uniformly kind, but he feared that the scandal of Methodism attaching
to his tutor would injure him at the next election. The neighbouring
clergy for the most part fought shy of Fletcher, so that he had few
opportunities of preaching in their churches. But the one compensation
for these restrictions was found in the devout retirement he loved so
well. He writes to Wesley: "The will of God be done: I am in His hands;
and if He does not call me to so much public duty, I have the more time
for study, prayer, and praise." He seems to have been conscious that it
was a time of discipline and preparation with him, and until the
indications of God's will were plain, he would not seek release from a
position where the providence of God had placed him.
Meanwhile, as his tutorship became less and less satisfactory as a
vocation, his connexion with the Methodists opened up to him new
labours and new friendships. Immediately upon his ordination Fletcher
was drawn into the full stream of the Revival, and brought into active
association with its leaders. His very first ministerial act, on the
day that he was ordained priest, was to assist Wesley in the
administration of the Lord's supper at Snowsfields chapel; and from
that time he frequently read prayers and preached in the Methodist
chapels in London. He made the acquaintance of Charles Wesley and
Whitefield, of the Countess of Huntingdon, of Berridge, Vicar of
Everton, of Thomas Walsh, and of some of the devout women who were not
least among the glories of early Methodism, including Mary Bosanquet,
who, many years afterwards, became his wife. By these and others
Fletcher was received with no common welcome. Wesley himself wrote in
his "Journal," "When my bodily strength failed, and none in England
were able and willing to assist me, He sent me help from the mountains
of Switzerland, and a helpmeet for me in every respect; where could I
find such another?" A little later the Countess of Huntingdon wrote to
a friend: "I have seen Mr. Fletcher, and was both pleased and refreshed
by the interview. He was accompanied by Mr. Wesley, who had frequently
mentioned him in terms of high commendation, as had Mr. Whitefield, Mr.
Charles Wesley, and others, so that I was anxious to become acquainted
with one so devoted, and who appears to glory in nothing, save in the
Cross of our Divine Lord and Master."
Another testimony referring to this time, though written many years
later, is that of a Mrs. Crosby, well-known amongst the first
Methodists: "I heard this heavenly-minded servant of the Lord preach
his first sermon in West Street chapel. I think his text was, 'Repent:
for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.' His spirit appeared in his whole
attitude and action. He could not well find words in the English
language to express himself, but he supplied that defect by offering up
prayers, tears, and sighs."
Of all those with whom Fletcher was now brought into close and happy
relations, Charles Wesley seems to have most completely won his heart.
Towards the elder Wesley he showed affectionate reverence, and a
loyalty that had its trials, and gave its proofs in many ways. He
undoubtedly looked upon him as the chief of living men. Of Thomas
Walsh, whose life, Southey says, "might almost convince a Catholic that
saints are to be found in other communions, as well as in the Church
of Rome,"--of Walsh, Fletcher, impressed with his deep, stern, mystic
sanctity, wrote, "I wish I could attend him everywhere, as Elisha
attended Elijah." But it was in Charles Wesley that he found his
dearest and most intimate friend, to whom for years he turned for
solace, for counsel, and for confidential intercourse.
We have seen the terms in which Lady Huntingdon speaks of Fletcher
after her first interview with him. On his part, Fletcher was
profoundly impressed with the countess's manifold excellences, and
wrote to Charles Wesley that he had "passed three hours with a modern
prodigy--_a humble and pious countess_." Lady Huntingdon has perhaps
suffered in the modern estimate of her character and work from the
overstrained and even fulsome language concerning her which it was the
custom of many of her friends and followers to employ. Appreciation of
her ladyship's rank so mingled with esteem for her piety as to produce
an unhappy effect upon the phraseology of her admirers. The countess's
biographer continues, in a later age, a style which, barely endurable
when a century old, is intolerable when repeated and renewed. He speaks
of "the elegant and pious persons to whom Mr. Fletcher was invited to
preach and administer the sacrament"! But we must not allow the
effusive language of her contemporaries, or the fine writing of her
biographer, to conceal from us the true worth of a very able and most
devoted Christian woman. If that language seem to us occasionally
wanting in manliness, in proper self-respect, and in Christian
simplicity, it bears witness to the ascendency exercised by a
remarkable character over all but the very strongest of those who came
under its influence; and if it was dangerous to be the subject of so
much eulogy, it should be remembered that Lady Huntingdon never shrank
from running counter to the prejudices of the class to which she
belonged, and endured, for the sake of Christ and His cause, ridicule
from those of her own order, which most people would find harder to
bear than actual persecution.
Fletcher was added to the number of Lady Huntingdon's chaplains. It is
almost unnecessary to say that this was not an "appointment" in the
strict sense of the word, but that he preached from time to time to the
fashionable congregations that assembled at Lady Huntingdon's house at
Chelsea. These assemblies have often been described. They included the
most distinguished men and women of the day. Chesterfield, Bolingbroke,
Horace Walpole and others, bear witness to the fashion which prevailed.
To listen to Whitefield in Lady Huntingdon's drawing-room became a
recognised diversion for society, and the most cynical and worldly were
found side by side with the serious and devout. Undoubtedly some "who
came to scoff remained to pray." Amongst the women of rank who heard
the gospel in this way several were converted, and became earnest and
faithful witnesses for Christ; but the hindrances to deep and lasting
results were very great, and we are inclined to think that this
particular phase of the Evangelical Revival was by no means among its
most fruitful or important developments. The ignorance and brutality of
the crowds to whom Wesley and Whitefield preached, presented no such
resistance to the gospel as the vanity and finished worldliness of the
drawing-room congregations. An instance will suffice. A lady who had
been invited by Lady Huntingdon replied in the following terms: "I
thank your ladyship for the information concerning the Methodist
preachers. Their doctrines are most repulsive, and strongly tinctured
with impertinence and disrespect towards their superiors, in
perpetually endeavouring to level all ranks and do away with all
distinctions. It is monstrous to be told you have a heart as sinful as
the common wretches that crawl on the earth. This is highly offensive
and insulting, and I cannot but wonder that your ladyship should relish
any sentiments so much at variance with high rank and good
breeding."[3]
There is no record of the impression made by Fletcher upon these
fashionable congregations. Meanwhile he was engaged in a work probably
more congenial to him, viz. preaching to the French prisoners, a number
of whom were settled at Tunbridge. After a few months this came to an
end; he was forbidden by the Bishop of London to continue his
ministrations. There was something "irregular" in them, it would
appear. Wesley wrote afterwards, "If I had known this at the time, King
George should have known it; and I believe he would have given the
bishop little thanks."
The following extracts from his letters belong to this period:
TO THE REV. CHARLES WESLEY.
"_Mar. 22nd, 1759._
"Since your departure I have lived more than ever like a
hermit. It seems to me that I am an unprofitable weight upon
the earth. I want to hide myself from all. I tremble when
the Lord favours me with a sight of myself. I tremble to
think of preaching only to dishonour God. To-morrow I preach
at West Street, with all the feelings of Jonah. Oh! would to
God I might be attended with success! If the Lord shall in
any degree sustain my weakness, I shall consider myself as
indebted to your prayers.
"A proposal has lately been made to me to accompany Mr.
Nathanael Gilbert to the West Indies. I have weighed the
matter; but, on the one hand, I feel that I have neither
zeal nor grace nor talents to expose myself to the
temptations and labours of a mission to the West Indies;
and, on the other, I believe that if God call me thither the
time is not yet come.... Pray let me know what you think of
this business; if you condemn me to put the sea between us,
the command would be a hard one, but I might possibly
prevail on myself to give you that proof of the deference I
pay to your judicious advice. Give me some account of Mrs.
Wesley, and of the godfather she designs for your little
Charles; and, that she may not labour under a deception,
tell her how greatly I want wisdom, and add that I have no
more grace than wisdom. If, after all, she will not reject
so unworthy a sponsor, remember that I have taken you for a
father and adviser, and that the charge will in the end
devolve upon you. Adieu!"
TO THE SAME.
"_April, 1759._
"I have lately seen so much weakness in my heart, both as a
minister and a Christian, that I know not which is most to
be pitied, the man, the believer, or the preacher. Could I
at last be truly humbled, and continue so always, I should
esteem myself happy in making this discovery. I preach
merely to keep the chapel open until God shall send a
workman after His own heart. _Nos numeri sumus_--this is
almost all I can say of myself."
TO THE SAME.
_"Nov. 15th, 1759._
"The countess proposed to me something of what you hinted to
me in your garden, namely, to celebrate the Communion
sometimes at her house in a morning, and to preach when
occasion offered; in such a manner however as not to
restrain my liberty, nor to prevent my assisting you, or
preaching to the French refugees; and that only till
Providence should clearly point out the path in which I
should go. Charity, politeness, and reason accompanied her
offer, and I confess, in spite of the resolution which I had
almost absolutely formed, to fly the houses of the great,
without even the exception of the countess's, I found myself
so greatly changed that I should have accepted on the spot a
proposal which I should have declined from any other mouth;
but my engagement with you withheld me, and, thanking the
countess, I told her, when I had reflected on her obliging
offer, I would do myself the honour of waiting upon her
again.
"Nevertheless, two difficulties stand in my way. Will it be
consistent with that poverty of spirit which I seek? Can I
accept an office for which I have such small talents? And
shall I not dishonour the cause of God by stammering out the
mysteries of the gospel in a place where the most approved
ministers of the Lord have preached with so much power and
so much success? I suspect that my own vanity gives more
weight to this second objection than it deserves to have:
what think you? You are an indulgent father to me, and the
name of son suits me better than that of brother."[4]