_FROM HIS ORDINATION TO HIS SETTLEMENT
AT MADELEY._
1757 TO 1760.
FOR three years after his ordination, Fletcher was without a Church
appointment. How did he spend this interval? Wesley says:—
“He was now doubly diligent in preaching, not only in the chapels at
West Street and Spitalfields, but wherever the providence of God
opened a door to proclaim the everlasting Gospel. This he did
frequently in French (as well as in English), of which all judges
allowed him to be a complete master.”[20]
Footnote 20:
Wesley’s “Works,” vol. vii., p. 415.
As might be expected, Fletcher soon became a great favourite among the
first Methodists. Almost at once, he was the highly esteemed friend of
Miss Bosanquet (his future wife), Ann Tripp, Sarah Crosby, Sarah
Ryan,[21] Thomas Walsh, and others, whose Methodistic fame will never
perish. After his death, in 1785, Mrs. Crosby wrote:—
“It is now eight or nine and twenty years since I was first favoured
with Mr. Fletcher’s heavenly conversation, in company with Mr. Walsh
and a few other friends, most of whom are now in the world of spirits.
At these seasons, how frequently did we feel—
‘The o’erwhelming power of saving grace!’
How frequently were we silenced thereby, while tears of love our souls
o’erflowed! It affects me while I recollect the humility, fervour of
spirit, and strength of faith with which dear Mr. Fletcher so often
poured out his soul before the Great Three One, at whose feet we have
lain in holy shame and silence, till earth seemed turned to heaven. 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. Nearly about this time he saw Miss Bosanquet, and
began his acquaintance with her; but, although they highly esteemed
each other, they had no correspondence for above twenty years.”[22]
Footnote 21:
Tyerman’s “Life of Wesley,” vol. ii., pp. 286, 289.
Footnote 22:
Benson’s “Life of Fletcher,” 2 edit., p. 320.
Fletcher still continued to be the tutor of the sons of Mr. Hill. During
the sitting of Parliament, he was in London; the remainder of the year
was chiefly spent at Tern Hall.[23] Whilst at the latter place, he
preached, on June 19, 1757, for the first time in the church at Atcham,
taking as his text, “_Ye adulterers and adultresses, know ye not that
the friendship of the world is enmity against God?_” “A very bold
beginning,” wrote his friend Mr. Vaughan. “The congregation stood
amazed, and gazed upon him as if he had been a monster; but to me he
appeared as a messenger sent from heaven. It was not soon that he was
invited again to preach in Atcham church, but he was invited to preach
in others; first in Wroxeter, and afterwards at the Abbey Church in
Shrewsbury;[24] but I doubt whether he preached more than six times in
the six months he stayed in the country. On my saying I wished he had
more opportunities of preaching, he answered, ‘The will of God be done;
I am in His hands. If He does not call me to so much public duty, I have
the more time for study, prayer, and praise.’”[25]
Footnote 23:
Wesley’s “Life of Fletcher.”
Footnote 24:
Benson says, “He also preached twice in St. Alkmond’s Church in
Shrewsbury.”
Footnote 25:
Wesley’s “Life of Fletcher.”
In the month of May, 1757, Wesley was in the north of England and
Fletcher was in London. The following letter to Wesley needs no further
introduction:—
“LONDON, _May 26, 1757_.
“REV. SIR,—If I did not write to you before Mrs. Wesley had asked me,
it was not that I wanted a remembrancer within, but rather an
encourager without. There is generally upon my heart such a sense of
my unworthiness, that sometimes I dare hardly open my mouth before a
child of God, and think it an unspeakable honour to stand before one
who has recovered something of the image of God, or sincerely seeks
after it. Is it possible that such a sinful worm as I should have the
privilege to converse with one whose soul is besprinkled with the
blood of my Lord? The thought amazes, confounds me, and fills my eyes
with tears of humble joy. Judge, then, at what distance I must see
myself from you if I am so much below the least of your children; and
whether a remembrancer within suffices to make me presume to write to
you, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear.
“I rejoice that you find everywhere an increase of praying souls. I
doubt not that the prayer of the just has great power with God, but I
cannot believe that it should hinder the fulfilling of Christ’s
gracious promises to His Church. He must, and certainly will, come at
the time appointed, for He is not slack, as some men count slackness;
and, although He would have all come to repentance, He has not
forgotten to be true and just. Only He will come with more mercy, and
will increase the light that shall be at eventide, according to His
promise in Zech. xiv. 7. I should rather think that the visions are
not yet plainly disclosed, and that the day and year in which the Lord
will begin to make bare His arm openly, are still concealed from us.
“I must say concerning Mr. Walsh,[26] as he once said to me concerning
God, ‘I wish I could attend him everywhere, as Elisha attended
Elijah.’ But since the will of God calls me from him, I must submit,
and drink the cup prepared for me. I have not seen him, unless for a
few moments three or four times before divine service. We must meet at
the throne of grace, or meet but seldom. Oh when will the communion of
saints be complete? Lord, hasten the time, and let me have a place
among them who love Thee, and love one another in sincerity!
“I set out in two days for the country. Oh may I be faithful;
harmless, like a dove; wise, like a serpent; and bold, as a lion, for
the common cause! O Lord, do not forsake me! Stand by the weakest of
Thy servants, and enable Thy children to bear with me and to wrestle
with Thee on my behalf!
“Oh bear with me, dear Sir, and give me your blessing every day, and
the Lord will return to you sevenfold.
“I am, Rev. Sir, your unworthy servant, J. FLETCHER.”[27]
Footnote 26:
Thomas Walsh, one of the most remarkable of Wesley’s Itinerants. To
say nothing of his piety and usefulness, Wesley declared him to be the
best Hebrew scholar he had ever met. He died two years after the date
of Fletcher’s letter.
Footnote 27:
“Thirteen Original Letters, written by the Rev. J. Fletcher, 1791,” p.
8.
There is no need to dwell on Fletcher’s humbleness, as displayed in this
letter, for that was _one_ of his chief characteristics to the end of
life. It may be added, however, that the letter furnishes fresh proof
that Fletcher was one of the godly few who were expecting the speedy
appearance of the incarnate and glorified Redeemer. It is probable that
his letter to Wesley on prophecy had led Wesley to advert to the same
subject, and that this was Fletcher’s answer to one of Wesley’s
critiques.
Three weeks after the date of this letter, Fletcher preached his first
sermon in _a church_. This was at Atcham, on June 19, as already stated.
As in the case of Wesley, churches, however, were soon closed against
him. To his friend and class-leader, Mr. Edwards, of London, he wrote:—
“I thank you for your encouraging observations. I want them, and use
them by the grace of God. When I received yours, I had not had one
opportunity of preaching; so incensed were all the clergy against me.
One, however, let me have the use of his church—the Abbey Church at
Shrewsbury. I preached in the forenoon with some degree of the
demonstration of the Spirit. The congregation was very numerous, and I
believe one half, at least, desired to hear me again. But the minister
would not let me have the pulpit any more. The next Sunday, the
minister of a neighbouring parish lying a-dying, I was sent for to
officiate for him. He died a few days after, and the chief man in the
parish offered to make interest that I might succeed him; but I could
not consent. The next Sunday I preached at Shrewsbury again, but in
another church. The next day I set out for Bristol, and was much
refreshed among the brethren. As I returned, I called at New
Kingswood, about sixteen miles from Bristol. The minister offering me
his church, I preached to a numerous congregation, gathered on half an
hour’s notice. I think the seed then sown will not be lost.”[28]
Footnote 28:
Benson’s “Life of Fletcher,” 2nd edit., p. 38.
Early in the year 1758, Wesley introduced Fletcher to the Countess of
Huntingdon. Her ladyship wrote:—
“1758, March 19. 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. Hearing that
he preached in French, his native language, I mentioned the case of
the French prisoners at Tunbridge. May the Lord of the harvest bless
his word, and send forth many such faithful ambassadors!”[29]
Footnote 29:
“Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 231.
Fletcher was becoming famous. Already, in his twenty-ninth year, he had
gained the love and admiration of the Wesley brothers, of Whitefield,
and of the Methodist great “elect lady.” At her request, Fletcher hied
away to Tunbridge, and preached to a congregation of prisoners on their
parole, who were so deeply affected by the truth, which many of them had
not heard before, that they earnestly requested he would preach to them
every Sunday. They proceeded even further, for they signed and sent a
petition to Sherlock, Bishop of London, begging him to allow Fletcher to
officiate as their weekly chaplain. Strangely enough, notwithstanding
Sherlock’s high repute for piety, he peremptorily rejected the
prisoners’ petition. Wesley says: “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.”[30]
Footnote 30:
Wesley’s “Life of Fletcher.”
Fletcher, as usual, continued in London with his pupils until the
prorogation of Parliament, when Mr. Hill and his family returned to
their country home. The journey to Shropshire was made in the family
coach; but, unfortunately, Mr. Hill commenced it on the Sabbath-day.[31]
This was a trial to Fletcher. Hence the following letter to Charles
Wesley:—
“TERN, _June 6, 1758_.
“REV. AND DEAR SIR,—Before I took my leave of you, the Sunday I set
out, and indeed almost all the time I was at the communion table, I
felt some degree of condemnation, as if, by setting out on that day, I
profaned the Sabbath, and the Lord’s supper; whereupon those words
came strongly to my mind, ‘Therefore many among you are sick and weak,
and some are dead.’ I immediately found myself out of order, and had
much ado to reach home after the service was over. Till the horses
were at the door, I thought I should not be able to go; but found
myself then a little strengthened. The next day, I was much worse, and
they were obliged to make room for me in the coach. The day after, I
was still worse, and really thought it would be my last. About noon,
while the family was at dinner, I collected what little strength I had
left; and, falling prostrate before the Lord, I besought Him not to
cut me off among heathens, but to grant me the favour of comforting
and being comforted by some Christian at my death. This request, so
contrary to true resignation, I think reached the ear of the Lord. He
rebuked the rage of the fever, and sensibly filled my soul with all
peace in believing; so that I saw I was yet for the land of the
living. Nay, a few hours after, I found myself as well as ever; and so
I continue now by God’s grace.
“What have I to do but to make good use of the health and leisure I
have in this retreat? I see my duty, and I form resolutions; but,
alas! I carry with me a wicked heart, which enters not into these
projects; and Satan is never more assiduous and eager to injure us
than in retirement. I feel, however, by the grace of God, determined
to sustain all the attacks of the flesh and of the devil, and to seize
the kingdom of heaven by force. The Lord has been particularly
gracious to me, in putting it into my heart to pray for the brethren.
I have experienced more power and more pleasure in this duty of
intercession than I have ever done. You will rightly judge that you
are not forgotten in these poor prayers; and I hope that you also
sometimes remember me.
“I hope you have overcome the scruple which prevented you from giving
Mr. Maxfield full liberty to labour for the Lord among us.[32] The
interest of the brethren, and no other motive, makes me desire it.
“I shall not see you in Bristol;[33] the journey of my pupils not
taking place at the time expected. May the Lord be with you more and
more in your labours and in your devotions! Farewell!
“JOHN FLETCHER.”[34]
Footnote 31:
Wesley himself not infrequently set out on his long journey to the
north on Sunday.
Footnote 32:
It is difficult to determine what is meant by this; most likely
Fletcher wished Thomas Maxfield to preach in the neighbourhood of Tern
Hall. Five years afterwards, Maxfield left Wesley, and became an
ordained clergyman of the Church of England.
Footnote 33:
Wesley’s Annual Conference was held in Bristol, in August, 1758.
Footnote 34:
Fletcher’s “Works,” vol. viii., p. 154.
At this period, Sarah Ryan, with whom Fletcher had become acquainted,
was acting as the housekeeper in Wesley’s “New Room” at Bristol.[35] To
her Fletcher addressed the following hitherto unpublished letter:—
“TERN, _October 12, 1758_.
“MY SISTER,—Where shall I begin the sad account I must give you of my
numberless infidelities from the time I left you? That very day,
having been called to preach in a church on our way, the freedom with
which the Lord enabled me to do it puffed me up in some measure. The
clear sight of the prize of my high calling was clouded, and so it
remained till I got home, when it pleased God to revive my hope full
of immortality, and to enable me to hunger and thirst after the
everlasting righteousness that shall be brought into the souls of
those in whom faith shall have its perfect work. During a few days, I
rejoiced because of the power I had over the sin that most easily
beset me,—I mean drowsiness; but, alas! my triumph was but short; for,
if the enemy did not come in at this door, another, no less effectual,
was opened to him. Just as I was going to resume my daily course of
business, I was called to preach in a church at Salop, and was obliged
to compose a sermon in the moments I should have spent in prayer.
Hurry and the want of a single eye again drew a veil between the prize
and my soul. In the meantime, Sunday came, and God rejected my impure
service, and abhorred the labour of my polluted soul; and, while
others imputed my not preaching to the fear of the minister who had
invited me to his pulpit, and to the threatenings of a mob, I saw the
wisdom and holiness of God, and rejoiced in that providence which does
all without the assistance of hurrying Uzzah.
“In general, I find I am surrounded with thousands of temptations, so
much the more dangerous because they are disguised under the
appearance of duties. I find, at times, such an alienation to
religious duties as makes me almost question whether I have a grain of
living faith. I think God has, this morning, shown me, in a clearer
light than ever, that I must begin to hang upon frames no more, but
learn to stand by a naked faith.
“Your unworthy brother,
“J. FLETCHER.
“P.S.—Direct to John Fletcher, under cover to Thomas Hill, Esq., M.P.,
at Tern, near Shrewsbury.
“To Mrs. Ryan,
“At the New Room in the Horse Fair,
“Bristol.”
Footnote 35:
Previous to becoming Wesley’s housekeeper, Sarah Ryan, Mary Clarke,
and Sarah Crosby lived together, in a small house in Christopher
Alley, Moorfields. It was here that Miss Bosanquet (afterwards
Fletcher’s wife) formed an acquaintance with Sarah Ryan, in 1757. (See
“Life of Mrs. Fletcher,” by Henry Moore, pp. 17–20.)
Thus did these earnest first Methodists watch over themselves with a
godly jealousy; and thus, in addition to the Christian fellowship in
their weekly class-meetings, did they tell their religious experience to
each other in epistolary correspondence. To this fact, pre-eminently,
Methodism is indebted for its rich biographies.
Immediately after the date of the above letter, Fletcher must have set
out for Bristol, for Wesley writes:—
“In the following week” (the third week in October), “I met Mr.
Fletcher, and the other preachers that were in the house at Bristol,
and spent a considerable time in close conversation on the head of
Christian Perfection. I afterwards wrote down the general propositions
wherein we all agreed.”[36]
Footnote 36:
Wesley’s Journal.
No doubt, these propositions were substantially the same as those which
Wesley, two months before, had presented to his Annual Conference, and
which were:—
1. That Christian Perfection does not “exclude all infirmities,
ignorance, and mistake.”
2. That those who think they have attained Christian Perfection, in
speaking their own experience, should “speak with great wariness, and
with the deepest humility and self-abasement before God.”
3. That young preachers, especially, should “speak of Perfection in
public, not too minutely or circumstantially, but rather in general and
scriptural terms.”
4. That Christian Perfection “implies the loving God with all the heart,
so that every evil temper is destroyed, and every thought, and word, and
work springs from, and is conducted to the end by, the pure love of God
and our neighbour.”[37]
Footnote 37:
“Minutes of Conference” (edition 1862), vol. i., p. 711.
At the close of the year, Fletcher, as usual, was, with the family of
Mr. Hill, in London, where he wrote the following to Charles Wesley.
There can be no doubt that the “humiliation before he left Tern” was the
imputations cast upon him on account of his failing to preach in the
church at Salop, mentioned in the foregoing letter to Sarah Ryan.
“LONDON, _December 12, 1758_.
“MY DEAR SIR,—Before I left Tern, the Lord gave me a medicine to
prepare me to suffer what awaited me here. This humiliation prepared
me so well that I was not surprised to learn a person in London had
spread abroad many false and scandalous things of me during my
absence; and that the minds of many were prejudiced against me. In one
sense, I took a pleasure in thinking that I was going to be rejected
by the children of God, and that my Saviour would become more dear
under the idea that, as in heaven, so now on earth, I should have none
but Him. The first time I appeared in the chapel many were so offended
that it was with difficulty they could forbear interrupting me in
prayer, to tell me, ‘_Physician, heal thyself._’ I was on the point of
declining to officiate, fearing I should only give fresh offence;
indeed, I should have done so had it not been for my friend Bernon,
who pressed me to stand firm, representing the triumph my silence
would give my enemies. His reasons appeared to me so cogent, that, as
your brother did not reject my assistance, I read prayers, and engaged
to preach sometimes of a morning; which I have accordingly continued
to do.”[38]
Footnote 38:
Letters, 1791.
This is an unpleasant but amusing episode, and presents these first
Methodists in a frame of heart and mind far from commendable. Of course,
Fletcher was not faultless. Perhaps he was blameable in the sermon
affair at Salop; but, as Wesley still permitted him to read prayers and
to preach in the West Street chapel, London, it may be taken for granted
that his offence, if an offence had been committed, was a very venial
one. Some of the early Methodists had more zeal than charity.
Fletcher continued to officiate in West Street chapel, and, whilst doing
so, a proposal was made which occasioned him considerable anxiety.
Nathaniel Gilbert inherited an estate in Antigua. For some years, he had
been the Speaker in the House of Assembly of that island. In 1758, he
was in England, and resided at Wandsworth. Wesley, on January 17, 1758,
preached in his house, and met two of his negro servants and a mulatto,
who appeared to be much awakened. In the month of November following,
Wesley baptized the two negroes. Mr. Gilbert returned to Antigua in the
autumn of 1759, and, having become acquainted with Fletcher, was
desirous that he should go with him to the West Indian Islands, and
preach to the planters and their slaves the “glorious Gospel of the
blessed God.” Hence the following letter to Charles Wesley:—
“LONDON, _March 22, 1759_.
“MY DEAR SIR,—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. Would to God I might be attended with his success!
“A proposal has lately been made to me to accompany Mr. Nathaniel
Gilbert to the West Indies. I have weighed the matter, but, on one
hand I feel that I have neither sufficient zeal, nor grace, nor
talents to expose myself to the temptations and labours of a mission
in the West Indies; and, on the other, I believe that if God calls me
thither, the time is not yet come. I wish to be certain that I am
converted myself before I leave my converted brethren to convert
heathen. 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.
“I have taken possession of my little hired chamber. There I have
_outward_ peace, and I wait for that which is within. I was this
morning with Lady Huntingdon, who salutes you. Our conversation was
deep, and full of the energy of faith on the part of the Countess; as
to me, I sat like Saul at the feet of Gamaliel.”[39]
Footnote 39:
Letters, 1791, p. 83.
Charles Wesley evidently was one of Fletcher’s confidential advisers,
and had great influence over him. Fortunately, that influence was not
used to induce him to go to the West Indies. Had he gone, in all
probability his “Checks to Antinomianism” would never have been written,
and his incalculable services to Wesley and to Methodism would not have
been rendered.
From the concluding part of Fletcher’s letter, it would seem that he was
not now resident in Mr. Hill’s London mansion, but had “a little hired
chamber” of his own. The probability is, that, during the Easter
holidays of Parliament, Mr. Hill had returned to Shropshire, and that
Fletcher had remained in London to officiate for the two Wesleys in West
Street chapel; and, perhaps, in the Foundery, and in the chapel at
Spitalfields. Twelve months previously, the Methodist Societies
connected with these three places of worship had been blessed with the
unspeakably precious ministry of the never-to-be-forgotten Thomas Walsh.
“Lord,” said he, when leaving them on February 19, 1758, “Lord, Thou
hast given me much favour in the eyes of this people. They show it by
words and deeds; their prayers and tears. Reward them a thousandfold!”
Seventeen days after the date of Fletcher’s foregoing letter, Thomas
Walsh departed this life in Dublin, in the twenty-eighth year of his
age. During his last days on earth, he was pre-eminently “in heaviness,”
_great, distressing_ “heaviness, through manifold temptations.” At
length, Satan was defeated, victory came, Walsh rapturously exclaimed,
“He is come! He is come! My Beloved is mine, and I am His! His for
ever!” And, uttering these words, he triumphantly expired.[40] Fletcher
had become acquainted with Walsh by attending his ministry in Wesley’s
London chapels. On hearing of his death, he wrote the following
impassioned letter to Charles Wesley:—
“LONDON, _April—, 1759_.
“MY DEAR SIR,—With a heart bowed down with grief, and eyes bathed with
tears, occasioned by our late heavy loss—I mean the death of Mr.
Walsh—I take my pen to pray you to intercede for me. What! that
_sincere_, _laborious_, and _zealous_ servant of God! Was he saved
only as ‘_by fire_,’ and his prayer not heard till the twelfth hour
was just expiring? Oh where shall I appear! I, who am an unprofitable
servant! Would to God my eyes were fountains of waters to weep for my
sins! Would to God I might pass the rest of my days in crying, ‘_Lord,
have mercy upon me!_’ ‘_All is vanity_’—grace, talents, labours,—if we
compare them with the mighty stride we have to take from time into
eternity! Lord, remember me, _now_ that Thou art in Thy kingdom!
“I have preached and administered the sacrament at West Street
sometimes in the holidays. May God water the poor seed I have sown,
and give it fruitfulness, though it be only in one soul! But I have
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. If I did not know myself a little better than I did
formerly, I should tell you that I had ceased altogether from placing
any confidence in my repentances; but I see my heart is so full of
deceit that I cannot depend on my knowledge of myself.
“You are not well! Are you, then, going to leave us, like poor Walsh?
Ah! stay, and permit me to go first; that, when my soul leaves the
body, you may commend it to the mercy of my Saviour. The day Mr. Walsh
died, the Lord gave our brethren the spirit of supplication; and many
unutterable groans were offered up for him at Spitalfields, where I
was. Who shall render us the same kind offices? Is not our hour near?
O, my God, when Thou comest, prepare us, and we shall be ready! You
owe your children an elegy on Mr. Walsh’s death, and you cannot employ
your poetic talents on a better subject.”[41]
Footnote 40:
Morgan’s “Life of Walsh.”
Footnote 41:
Letters, 1791, p. 85.
In this interesting letter, Fletcher prayed for success at West Street
Chapel, even if the success was limited to “only one soul.” His prayer
was answered. At this period, there lived, in the neighbourhood of
Covent Garden, Owen and Alice Price, natives of Dolgelly, in North
Wales. One of their four children was named Mary, and was now fifteen
years of age. In 1750, when an earthquake alarmed all London, little
Mary was at school. The house in which the school was kept undulated;
several windows were broken; the children were thrown down on their
faces; and a hoarse rumbling noise was heard for nearly a minute. Mary
resolved, henceforth, to serve her Maker. She read the Bible; she
prayed; but she was not happy. Some one recommended her to attend the
preaching of the Methodists; but she hesitated to do this, because the
Methodists were despised, and her parents were opposed to enthusiasts.
At length, Mary went to the chapel in West Street, Seven Dials. It was
on a Sunday morning; and in those days Methodist meeting-houses were
crowded on Sunday mornings, _at nine o’clock_. Mary made her way down
the aisle; the minister, who was reading the prayers, she had never seen
before; but his manner, his tones, and the glancing of his eyes, were
irresistibly affecting. The minister was Fletcher, and there and then
Mary resolved to be a Methodist. The preaching and praying of Fletcher
were greatly blessed to her soul’s profit; and, after a severe struggle,
she took courage to stay, at the close of the public service, to receive
the sacrament. At that period in the history of Methodism, no one was
allowed to remain who had not a society ticket, or a note from the
officiating minister; and, accordingly, the faithful steward told the
Welsh maiden she must either go to the vestry for a note, or quit the
chapel. She went, and, with fear and trembling, asked Fletcher’s
permission to remain. “Come,” cried he, “come, my dear young friend,
come, and receive the memorials of your dying Lord. If sin is your
burden, behold the Crucified. Partake of His broken body and shed blood,
and sink into the bottomless ocean of His love.” Of course, Mary stayed.
For three months afterwards, she sought the Lord diligently in the means
of grace; and then, under a sermon preached by Thomas Maxfield, found
peace with God, through faith in Jesus Christ. In 1782, Mary Price
married Peter Kruse; Wesley appointed her to be the leader of a class at
City Road, where she and her husband worshipped; and, after being a
godly Methodist for fifty-nine years, she peacefully expired, Joseph
Benson preaching her funeral sermon, and her corpse being interred in
the burial-ground behind the City Road Chapel.[42]
Footnote 42:
_Methodist Magazine_, 1818, pp. 360–367.
Another convert may be mentioned here. Richard Hill (afterwards Sir
Richard) was the eldest son of Sir Rowland Hill, the first baronet of a
distinguished and ancient family. Richard was now twenty-seven years of
age. From childhood, he had been blest with the strivings of God’s Holy
Spirit, and of late had been unutterably anxious about his soul. He
writes:—
“About October, 1757, I set myself to work with all the earnestness of
a poor perishing mariner, who is every moment in expectation of
shipwreck. I fasted, prayed, and meditated. I read the Scriptures,
communicated, and gave much alms. But these things brought no peace to
my soul; on the contrary, I saw, what I had never seen before, that
all my works were mixed with sin and imperfection. My terrors
increased, insomuch that I could neither eat nor sleep, and did not
think it possible for me to live a week. Everybody observed how ill I
looked, and I had much ado to conceal the straits I was in from all
about me. After having suffered in this manner a short time, I made my
case known to a clergyman; but all he said to me—which indeed was not
much to the purpose—had little or no effect. What to do I knew not.
Alas! I had no acquaintance with any one who seemed to have the least
experience in such a case as mine. Those about me showed the greatest
concern for my situation, and offered their remedies for my relief,
such as company, physic, and exercise, which, in order to oblige them,
I complied with; but my disorder was not to be removed by these carnal
quackeries. What I wanted was a skilful physician for my soul; but
where to find such an one I knew not.
“I recollected, however, that once, if not oftener, the Rev. Mr.
Fletcher, then tutor to two neighbouring young gentlemen, had, in my
hearing, been spoken of in a very disrespectful manner, for things
which seemed to me to savour of a truly Christian spirit. I,
therefore, determined to make my case known to him, and, accordingly,
wrote him a letter, without mentioning my name, giving him some
account of my situation, and begging him, for God’s sake, to meet me
that very night at an inn at Salop, in which place I then was. Though
Mr. Fletcher had four or five miles to walk, yet he came punctually to
the appointment, spoke to me in a very comfortable manner, and gave me
to understand that he had very different thoughts of my state from
what I had myself. After our discourse, he went to prayer with me,
and, among the other petitions that he put up in my behalf, he prayed
that I might not trust in my own righteousness; an expression the
import of which I scarcely knew.
“After my conversation with Mr. Fletcher, I was rather easier; but
this decrease of my terrors was of short duration. I allowed that the
promises he would have me apply to myself belonged to the generality
of sinners, but I thought they were not intended for me. I, therefore,
wrote again to Mr. Fletcher, telling him that, however others might
take comfort from the Scripture promises, I feared none of them
belonged to me. I told him also, that I found my heart to be exceeding
hard and wicked; and that, as all my duties proceeded from a dread of
punishment, and not from the principles of faith and love, and were
withal so very defective, I thought it was impossible God should ever
accept them. In answer to this, the kind and sympathising Mr. Fletcher
immediately wrote me a sweet and comfortable letter, telling me that
the perusal of the account I had given him had caused him to shed
tears of joy, because he saw the Lord had convinced me of the
insufficiency of all my own doings to justify me before God, and of
the necessity of a saving faith in the blood of Jesus. He also sent me
‘The Life and Death of Mr. Thomas Halyburton,’ which book I read with
greatest eagerness.”
After this, Sir Richard Hill proceeds to relate how he found peace with
God on February 18, 1758; then how he relapsed into doubts and fears,
and lost all his comfort; and then how he wrote to Fletcher in April,
1759, and said:—
“My soul is again bowed down under the sense of the wrath of God. The
broken law, with all its thunderings and lightnings, again stares me
in the face. My hope seems to be giving up the ghost, and I see
nothing before me but blackness and darkness for ever.”
Of course Fletcher replied to this letter. Before long, Sir Richard
regained his lost faith and peace, and ever afterwards went on his way
rejoicing.[43]
Footnote 43:
Sidney’s “Life of Sir Richard Hill,” pp. 21–32.
Thus, to an important extent, was Fletcher used in the conversion of the
distinguished man, who, a few years later, became one of his sturdiest
opponents in the great Calvinian controversy.
In the middle of June, 1759, Mr. Hill, M.P., and his family left London
for Shropshire, and, of course, Fletcher went with them. Up to the time
of his departure, Fletcher continued to preach in Wesley’s London
chapels; but, in writing to Charles Wesley, under the date of June 1, he
remarks, with his characteristic humbleness: “I am here _umbra pro
corpore_. I preach as your substitute; come, and fill worthily an office
of which I am unworthy.”[44]
Footnote 44:
Letters, 1791, p. 86.
At Tern Hall, Fletcher again enjoyed his beloved retirement, and gave
himself up to study, meditation, and prayer. Indeed, his whole life was
now a life of prayer. “Wherever we met,” says Mr. Vaughan, “if we were
alone, his first salute was, ‘Do I meet you praying?’ And, if we were
conversing on any point of Divinity, he would often break off abruptly,
and ask, ‘Where are our hearts now’”[45] Solitude, however, is often
invaded by Satan. It was in the garden, where were only two human
beings, that the devil gained his first victory on earth; and it was in
“the _wilderness_” that man’s Redeemer was pre-eminently tempted by the
same accursed enemy. The following, addressed to Charles Wesley, is a
strange, but honest and instructive production.
Footnote 45:
Benson’s “Life of Fletcher.”
“TERN, _July 19, 1759_.
“MY DEAR SIR,—Instead of apologizing for my silence, I will tell you
that I have twenty times endeavoured to break it, but without effect.
I will simply state the cause of it.
“This is the fourth summer that I have been brought hither, in a
peculiar manner, to be tempted of the devil in a wilderness; and I
have improved so little by my past exercises, that I have not defended
myself better than in the first year. Being arrived here, I began to
spend my time as I had determined; one part in prayer, and the other
in meditation on the Holy Scriptures. The Lord blessed my devotions,
and I advanced from conquering to conquer, leading every thought
captive to the obedience of Jesus Christ, when it pleased God to show
me some of the folds of my heart. As I looked for nothing less than
such a discovery, I was extremely surprised; so much so as to forget
Christ. You may judge what was the consequence. A spiritual languor
seized on all the powers of my soul, and I suffered myself to be
carried away quietly by a current, with the rapidity of which I was
unacquainted.
“Neither doubt nor despair troubled me for a moment; my temptation
took another course. It appeared to me that God would be much more
glorified by my damnation than by my salvation. It seemed altogether
incompatible with the holiness, the justice, and the veracity of the
Supreme Being to admit so stubborn an offender into His presence. I
could do nothing but be astonished at the patience of God; and I would
willingly have sung those verses of Desbaraux if I had had strength:—
‘Tonne, frappe, il est temps, rend moi guerre pour guerre,
J’adore, en perrissant, la raison qui t’aigrit.’[46]
Footnote 46:
“Thunder! strike! it is time; render me war for war!
In perishing, I adore the reason which incenses Thee.”
“Do not imagine, however, that I was in a state of evangelical
repentance. No: a man who repents desires to be saved; but I desired
it not. I was even impatient to go to my own place; and secretly
wished that God would for a moment give me the exercise of His iron
sceptre to break myself to pieces as a vessel to dishonour. A bitter
and cruel zeal against myself, and all the sinners who were with me,
filled all my thoughts and all my desires. The devil, who well knew
how to improve the opportunity, blew, without ceasing, the sparks of
some corruptions, which I thought were extinguished, or at the point
of being so, till at last the fire began to appear without. This
opened my eyes, and I felt it was time to implore succour.
“It is now eight days since I endeavoured to pray, but almost without
success. Yesterday, however, as I sang one of your hymns, the Lord
lifted up my head, and commanded me to face my enemies. By His grace I
am already a conqueror; and I doubt not that I shall soon be more than
conqueror.
“Although I deserve it not, nevertheless hold up my hands till all
these Amalekites be put to flight.
“I am, etc.,
J. FLETCHER.”[47]
Footnote 47:
Letters, 1791, p. 88.
Certainly this was strange, perhaps unparalleled experience. Paul wrote,
“I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ _for my brethren, my
kinsmen according to the flesh_.” John Fletcher seemed to wish for this,
that _God might be glorified_. “A fit of melancholy,” says the reader;
“almost insanity.” That, however, is sooner said than proved. Fletcher
had a great work to do, and, as in the case of his Divine Master,
temptations helped to prepare him for it. Weeks after the date of the
foregoing letter, he continued to write bitter things against himself.
The following letter has not before been published; it was addressed “to
Mrs. Ryan, at the Room in the Horse-Fair, Bristol:”—
“TERN, _September 5, 1759_.
“MY SISTER,—I have often been with you in spirit, desiring to follow
you as you follow Christ; and I trust you have put up some petitions
for me, that I may not run in vain, but may at last apprehend that for
which I am apprehended.
“I have been taught many lessons—by man, self, and Satan—since I saw
you, but doubt I am not much nearer wisdom, unless it is in this
point—that I am more foolish in my own eyes. I groan to be so often
diverted from the pursuit of the one thing needful; but
unfaithfulness, levity, unbelief, taint those groans, and make me
question their sincerity and mine. Will you try once more to spur me
out of my haltings? Send me an account of the struggles you went
through before you found rest. What degree of joy, fear, hope, sorrow,
doubting, fervency or coldness of desire in soul and body—waking,
working, and sleeping?
“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.
“To what a _monstrous_ idea had you well-nigh given birth. What! the
labours of _my_ ministry under you deserve a salary! I, who have done
nothing but dishonour God hitherto, and am not in a condition to do
anything else for the future! If, then, I am permitted to stand in the
courts of the Lord’s house, is it not for me to make an
acknowledgment, rather than to receive one? If I ever receive anything
of the Methodist Church, it shall be only as an indigent mendicant
receives alms, without which he would perish. Such were some of the
thoughts which passed through my mind with regard to the proposal you
made to me in London; and I doubt whether my own vanity, or your
goodness, will be able to efface the impressions they have left.
“I have great need of your advice relative to the letters which I
receive from my relations, who unite in their invitations to me to
return to my own country. One says, to settle my affairs there;
another, to preach there; a third, to assist him to die. They press me
to declare whether I renounce my family, and the demands I have upon
it. My mother, in the strongest terms, commands me at least to go and
see her. What answer shall I make? If she thought _as you do_, I
should write to her, ‘_Ubi Christiani, ibi patria_;’ ‘my mother, my
brethren, my sisters, are those who do the will of my heavenly
Father;’ but she is not in a state of mind to digest such an answer. I
have no inclination to yield to their desires, which appear to me
merely _natural_, for I should lose precious time and incur expense.
My presence is not _absolutely_ necessary to my concerns; and it is
more probable that my relations will pervert me to vanity and
interest, than that I shall convert them to genuine Christianity.
Lastly, I should have no opportunity to exercise my ministry. Our
Swiss ministers, who preach only once a week, would not look upon me
with a more favourable eye than the ministers here, and would only
cause me either to be laid in prison or to be immediately banished
from the country.
“Permit me to thank you for the sentence from Kempis, with which you
close your letter, by returning you another. ‘You run no risk in
considering yourself as the wickedest of men, but you are in _danger_
if you prefer yourself to any one.’”[49]
Footnote 49:
Letters, 1791, p. 91.
A fortnight later, Fletcher wrote again to Charles Wesley as follows:—
“TERN, _September 29, 1759_.
“What you say about reducing a mother to despair has made me
recollect, what I have often thought, that the particular fault of the
Swiss is to be _without natural affection_. With respect to that
preference which my mother shows me above her other children, I see
clearly I am indebted for almost all the affection she expresses for
me in her letters to my absence from her, which hinders her from
seeing my faults. Nevertheless, I reproach myself severely, that I
cannot interest myself in her welfare as much as I did in that of my
deceased father. I am astonished at the difference. I believe the time
is not yet come when my presence may be of service to her; and I
flatter myself she will not be shocked at my refusal, which I have
softened as much as I could.
“I fear you did not rightly understand what I wrote about the proposal
you made me at London. So far from making conditions, I feel myself
unworthy of receiving them. I trouble myself with no temporal things;
my only fear is that of having too much, rather than too little, of
the necessaries of life. I am weary of abundance. I could wish myself
to be poor with my Saviour. Those whom He hath chosen to be rich in
faith, appear to me objects of envy in the midst of their wants.”[50]
Footnote 50:
Letters, 1791, p. 95.
Fletcher wanted no salary for preaching in Methodist chapels; and, for
the present, he refused to return to Switzerland. His reason for the
latter might have been more filially expressed; but no one will doubt
his sincerity, or that his motives were not pure. The next letter,
written two days later, was addressed to Sarah Ryan, Wesley’s
housekeeper at Bristol, and to her friend, Dorothy Furley. It is too
full of eloquent piety to be abridged.
“_October 1, 1759._
“DEAR SISTERS,—I have been putting off writing to you, lest the action
of writing should divert my soul from the awful and delightful worship
it is engaged in. But I now conclude I shall be no loser, if I invite
you to love Him my soul loveth; to dread Him my soul dreadeth; to
adore Him my soul adoreth.
“Sink with me before the throne of grace; and, while the cherubim veil
their faces, and cry out in tender fear and exquisite trembling,
‘Holy! Holy! Holy!’ let us put our mouths in the dust, and echo back
the solemn sound, ‘Holy! Holy! Holy!’ Let us plunge ourselves in that
ocean of purity. Let us try to fathom the depths of Divine mercy; and,
convinced of the impossibility of such an attempt, let us lose
ourselves in them. Let us be comprehended by God, if we cannot
comprehend Him. Let us be supremely happy in God. Let the intenseness
of our happiness border upon misery, because we can make Him no
return. Let our head become waters, and our eyes a fountain of
tears,—_tears_ of humble repentance, of solemn joy, of silent
admiration, of exalted adoration, of raptured desires, of inflamed
transports, of speechless awe. My God and my all! Your God and your
all! Our God and our all! Praise Him! With our souls blended into one
by Divine love, let us with one mouth glorify the Father of our Lord
Jesus Christ; our Father, who is over all, through all, and in us all.
“I charge you before the Lord Jesus, who giveth life and more abundant
life; I entreat you by all the actings of faith, the stretchings of
hope, the flames of love you have ever felt, sink to greater depths of
self-abasing repentance; rise to greater heights of Christ-exalting
joy. And let Him, who is able to do exceeding abundantly above all
that you can ask or think, carry on, and fulfil in you the work of
faith with power; with that power whereby He subdueth all things unto
Himself. Be steadfast in hope, immovable in patience and love, always
abounding in the outward and inward labour of love; and receive the
end of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
“I am, dear sisters, your well-wisher,
“JOHN FLETCHER.”[51]
Footnote 51:
“Thirteen Original Letters,” by Rev. John Fletcher, 1791, p. 9.
Mr. Benson inclines to think that it was at this period that Fletcher
first preached at Madeley. The Rev. Mr. Chambers was the vicar, and
frequently desired the tutor of Mr. Hill’s sons to assist him in his
ministerial duties. Tern Hall was ten miles from Madeley, and one of Mr.
Hill’s grooms was ordered to have a horse ready for Fletcher’s use every
Sunday morning. So great, however, was his aversion to giving trouble to
any one, that, if the groom did not awake at the proper time, he seldom
would suffer him to be called; but prepared the horse for himself.[52]
Footnote 52:
Benson’s “Life of Fletcher.”
Parliament was opened on November 13, when, as usual, Mr. Hill and his
family repaired to London. Two days afterwards, Fletcher wrote the
following to Charles Wesley:—
“LONDON, _November 15, 1759_.
“MY DEAR SIR,—Your letter was not put into my hands till eight days
after my arrival in London. I carried the enclosed to its address, and
passed three hours with a modern prodigy,—_an humble and pious
countess_. I went with trembling, and in obedience to your orders; but
I soon perceived a little of what the disciples felt when Christ said
to them, ‘_It is I, be not afraid._’
“Her ladyship proposed to me something of what you hinted to me in
your garden,—namely, to celebrate the communion sometimes at her house
of a morning, and to preach when occasion offered,—in such a manner,
however, as not to restrain my liberty, nor to prevent me 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, her ladyship’s proposal; but my engagement with
you withheld me; and, after thanking her, I said, 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 the 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? What think you?
“I give myself up to your judicious counsels. I feel myself unworthy
of them; much more still of the appellation of _friend_, with which
you honour me. You are an _indulgent father_ to me, and the name of
_son_ suits me better than that of _brother_.”[53]
Footnote 53:
Letters, 1791, p. 98.
It hardly need be added, that the “modern prodigy,” the “humble and
pious Countess,” was Lady Huntingdon, to whom Wesley had introduced
Fletcher nearly two years before. Her ladyship’s proposal really
amounted to this, that, without at all interfering with his preaching
for the Wesley brothers, and with his labours among the French prisoners
and refugees, Fletcher should act as one of her domestic chaplains.
Charles Wesley’s reply to Fletcher’s inquiries has not been preserved;
but there can be no doubt it was favourable, for such was Fletcher’s
profound respect for Methodism’s poet, that, if he had, in the least,
disapproved of the Countess’s offer, it would most certainly have been
declined. “I am so assured of your salvation,” wrote Fletcher, in the
letter from which the foregoing is extracted, “that I ask no other place
in heaven, than that I may have at your feet. I doubt even if Paradise
would be Paradise to me, unless it were shared with you.” This language
was extravagant; but it shows the high admiration in which Fletcher, at
this time, held one who might be justly called his dearest and most
confidential friend. The proposal of the Countess of Huntingdon was
accepted; and Fletcher opened his commission to the great and honourable
in her ladyship’s drawing-room, in the lowly spirit of St. Paul, “Unto
me, who am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given, that
I should preach the unsearchable riches of Christ.” During the ensuing
winter, he preached in Wesley’s London chapels, as usual; and,
alternately with the Wesley brothers and other clergymen, he preached in
the houses of Lady Huntingdon, Lady Gertrude Hotham, and Lady Frances
Shirley, generally once, and frequently twice, in every week.[54]
Footnote 54:
“Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 233.
The French prisoners and refugees have been mentioned. Unfortunately,
there are no details preserved of the extent and success of Fletcher’s
labours among those pitiable sojourners; but there can be no doubt that
it was for their instruction and benefit, that Fletcher, in 1759,
published a sermon in the French language, entitled, “Discours sur la
Regeneration. Imprime à Londre l’an 1759.” 12mo, 48 pp. His sermon is
founded upon John iii. 3, “Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily,
verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the
kingdom of God.” At the end of the discourse are two short poems, in
French, with the titles, “Sentiments d’une Ame que la Grace régénère;”
and “Le Bonheur de l’homme Régénère.” The subject and substance of the
whole may be gathered from the brief preface, of which the following is
a translation:—
“Some prejudiced persons having caused it to be reported that I preach
a dangerous doctrine, you will be able to judge as to that, with a
knowledge of the case, by reading this discourse on Regeneration.
“I beg you to read, in addition, some short pamphlets which have just
appeared, and which are entitled, ‘The Nature and Design of
Christianity;’[55] ‘Salvation by Faith;’[56] and ‘Awake thou that
sleepest.’[57] I recommend these three works for your examination,
because, although I am not the author of them, they contain the
sentiments which I wish to see engraven in our hearts, as they were in
the heart of St. Paul.
“If you find here the religion of Christ, give the glory to God, and
let it be found in the depths of your own souls; but, if you find
anything contrary to the Holy Scriptures and the purity of
Christianity, I pray you, in the name of the Lord, to point it out to
me. Conduct so kind will sensibly oblige your servant in Christ,
“J. DE LA FLECHERE.”
Footnote 55:
An extract from Law’s “Christian Perfection,” first published by
Wesley in 1740; the sixth edition appeared in 1759.
Footnote 56:
Wesley’s “Sermon on Salvation by Faith,” first published in 1738; and
a tenth edition in 1756.
Footnote 57:
Charles Wesley’s well-known sermon, preached before the University of
Oxford, on April 4, 1742.
With the exception of a tract, entitled “A Christmas Box for Journeymen
and Apprentices,” which, Wesley says, was printed and circulated in
1758, this “Discours sur la Regeneration” was Fletcher’s earliest
publication.
During the first three months of 1760, Fletcher enjoyed sweet
intercourse with his beloved and confidential friend, Charles Wesley.
The latter relates that he forgot his birthday till Fletcher’s prayer
put him in mind of it. He and Fletcher had conversations respecting the
doctrine of assurance, which they both held, but which they thought had
not been sufficiently guarded. In a letter, dated March 16, 1760,
Charles observes,—“God has remarkably owned the Word since Mr. Fletcher
and I changed our manner of preaching it.”[58]
Footnote 58:
C. Wesley’s Journal, vol. ii., p. 227.
At this period, the Methodists of London took a profound interest in the
fate of Earl Ferrars, brother of the Rev. Walter Shirley, and cousin of
the Countess of Huntingdon. This profligate nobleman had murdered his
steward, and was now awaiting his trial by the Peers of England. The
unhappy culprit was executed on the 5th of May. Many were the prayers
offered for his conversion. A day of fasting was kept at the Foundery.
“Yesterday,” wrote Charles Wesley, on April 4, “many met me in the
chapel (West-street), to join in prayer for the murderer. Till 4 p.m.
we continued looking upon Him whom we had pierced. I never remember a
more solemn season. I carried Mr. Shirley and his sister to Mrs.
Herritage’s, where Mr. Fletcher helped us to pray for poor Barabbas,
as he calls him. Again the spirit made intercession for him with
groans unutterable. Our watch-night lasted from seven to half-past
ten. My text was, ‘Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold,
and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow,’ etc.
(Lamentations of Jeremiah i. 12). The Word was sent, I believe, to
many hearts. Mr. Fletcher seconded it. We both prayed _after_ God,
particularly for the criminal. The chapel was excessively crowded, and
therefore very hot. Miss Shirley carried me to my lodgings. It was
past eleven before John Fletcher and I got to rest.”[59]
Footnote 59:
_Ibid._, vol. ii., p. 231.
The last words of this extract almost indicate that Charles Wesley and
Fletcher were living together, in the same house; but, be that as it
may, there cannot be a doubt of the warm friendship that existed between
them.
Besides preaching in Wesley’s London chapels, Fletcher occasionally
preached for the Countess of Huntingdon, at Brighton.[60] He also
visited Berridge at Everton. Hence the following, addressed to Charles
Wesley:—
“DUNSTABLE, _March 1, 1760_.
“MY DEAR SIR,—I have had a pleasant journey as to my body, but an
unhappy one for my soul. Everything required that I should cry without
ceasing, ‘_Lord, be merciful to me a sinner!_’ but, alas! I have not
done so. The fine weather invites me to execute a design, I had half
formed, of making a forced march to spend next Sunday at Everton, Mr.
Berridge’s parish. May the voice of the Lord there be heard by a poor
child of Adam, who, like him, is still behind the trees of his
stupidity and impenitence!
“If I do not lose myself across the fields before I get there, and if
the Lord is pleased to grant me the spirit of supplication, I will
pray for you, until I can again pray with you. Don’t forget me, I
beseech you. I would fain be with you on those solemn occasions, when
a thousand voices are raised to heaven to obtain those graces which I
have not; but God’s will be done!
“Don’t forget to present my respects to the Countess. If I continue
any time at Everton, I shall take the liberty of giving her some
account of the work of God in these parts; if not, I will give it her
in person. Adieu.
“JOHN FLETCHER.”[61]
Footnote 60:
“Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 233.
Footnote 61:
Letters, 1791, p. 100.
Strange scenes had recently been witnessed at Everton and in the
surrounding country; and it is not surprising that Fletcher was desirous
of seeing what the hand of God had wrought. His visit was a memorable
one. On arriving, he introduced himself to Berridge “as a new convert,
who had taken the liberty to wait upon him for the benefit of his
instruction and advice.” Berridge, perceiving he was a foreigner, asked
what countryman he was.
“A Swiss, from the canton of Berne,” was the reply.
“From Berne! then probably you can give me some account of a young
countryman of yours, John Fletcher, who has lately preached a few times
for the Messrs. Wesley, and of whose talents, learning, and piety, they
both speak in terms of high eulogy. Do you know him?”
“Yes, sir, I know him intimately; and did those gentlemen know him as
well they would not speak so highly of him. He is more obliged to their
partial friendship than to his own merits.”
“You surprise me,” said Berridge.
“I have the best reason for speaking of John Fletcher as I do. I am John
Fletcher.”
“If you be John Fletcher,” replied Berridge, “you must take my pulpit
to-morrow.”[62]
Footnote 62:
Cox’s “Life of Fletcher,” p. 25
Thus began Fletcher’s acquaintance with Berridge. No doubt he preached
at Everton, for strong-willed Berridge was wont to have his way. It is
probable that Fletcher communicated what he had seen and heard to the
Countess of Huntingdon. At all events, it is said, her ladyship,
accompanied by Martin Madan and Henry Venn, hastened to join him there.
On the morning after their arrival, at seven o’clock, Berridge preached
to an enormous congregation, assembled in a field near his church. At
eleven, in the church, Mr. Hicks read prayers, and Venn explained the
“joy that is in heaven over one sinner that repenteth.” In the
afternoon, to an amazing multitude gathered from all parts of the
surrounding country, Martin Madan cried, in the open air, “If any man
thirst, let him come unto me and drink.” Next day, in the morning,
Fletcher read prayers, and Madan preached from “Ye must be born again,”
the church being crowded to excess, and the windows filled within and
without. In the afternoon, the prayers were read by Berridge, and Venn
enforced the words, “This is life eternal, to know Thee, the only true
God, and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent.” Large numbers being unable
to gain admission to the church, Berridge addressed those outside from,
“Seek the Lord while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near.”
The third day’s services were even more remarkable than the previous
ones. It was calculated that, in the small village of Everton, ten
thousand persons were assembled to hear the Word of God, and to join in
His holy services. The number is almost incredible; and picturesque must
have been the travelling tribes as they journeyed to this “hill of
Zion.” Venn preached, of course, in the open air, from the text, “The
harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.” The huge
congregation was deeply affected, and several persons, both men and
women, fell to the ground and wept bitterly. The afternoon congregation
was even greater than that in the morning. At night, Berridge was the
preacher, and selected as his text, “Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh
away the sin of the world.” Towards the close of his sermon, five
persons “sunk down as dead;” and others cried with a loud and bitter
cry, “What must we do to be saved?” Berridge concluded his discourse;
and these memorable three days’ services were finished by the assembled
thousands, the Countess, and the five clergymen, all joining in singing
Wesley’s noble hymn,—
“Arm of the Lord, awake, awake!
Thine own immortal strength put on!
With terror clothed, hell’s kingdom shake,
And cast Thy foes with fury down!
“As in the ancient days appear!
The sacred annals speak Thy fame:
Be now omnipotently near,
To endless ages still the same.
“Thy arm, Lord, is not shortened now,
It wants not now the power to save;
Still present with Thy people, Thou
Bear’st them through life’s disparted wave.
“By death and hell pursued in vain,
To Thee the ransomed seed shall come,
Shouting their heavenly Sion gain,
And pass through death triumphant home.
“The pain of life shall there be o’er,
The anguish and distracting care,
There sighing grief shall weep no more,
And sin shall never enter there.
“Where pure, essential joy is found,
The Lord’s redeemed their heads shall raise,
With everlasting gladness crowned,
And filled with love, and lost in praise.”[63]
Footnote 63:
“Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 400.
What pen can adequately describe this grand outburst of scriptural faith
and Christian exultation? It was a scene that has not oft been equalled;
and, no doubt, helped to increasingly qualify Fletcher for the great
work that awaited him.
Fletcher’s duties as a tutor were now ended. The two sons of Mr. Hill
had become undergraduates at Cambridge. Fletcher seems to have returned
to Tern Hall; but, as a new Parliament was about to be elected, Mr. Hill
objected to the ordained tutor preaching in the neighbourhood of the
Hall, because his well-known Methodist proclivities might raise a
stumbling-block at the polling-booths. Hence the following extract from
a letter addressed to the Countess of Huntingdon:—
“TERN, _September 6, 1760_.
“The fear Mr. Hill has, that I should lessen his interest at
Shrewsbury at the next election,—the shyness of the neighbouring
clergy,—and the want I feel of an ordination from the great Shepherd
and Bishop of my soul, will probably prevent my preaching at all in
the country. O may the Spirit of God preach the Gospel to my heart!
“Generous as you are, Madam, I believe you would have saved me the
shame of receiving the present you made me at Paddington, had you
foreseen the uneasy thoughts it raised in my heart. ‘Is not this
making godliness a gain? Can I in conscience receive what is devoted
to the poor when I am not in actual want?’ I am not ashamed of living
upon charity, but to receive it, without being an immediate object of
charity, gives me more uneasiness than want could possibly do. And now
I am deprived, for many months, of the unspeakable advantage of living
upon Providence, and must live upon a stock, as well as the rich of
this world! Is not this a lesson? And does not your generosity, Madam,
bid me look to Jesus for _poverty of spirit_, without which all
outward acts are nothing but pride, sin, misery, and lies?
“I am, with gratitude and shame, your ladyship’s unworthy servant,
“J. FLETCHER.”[64]
Footnote 64:
“Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 234.
Fletcher was without employment. What was the best course to take? He
might have permanently united himself to the Wesley brothers; or he
might have devoted himself to the congregations of the Countess of
Huntingdon. But another path was marked out for him by an unerring
Providence. He had been of great service to the sons of Mr. Hill; and
Mr. Hill was desirous of promoting his preferment. The living of Dunham,
in Cheshire, was now vacant, and Mr. Hill informed Fletcher that it was
at his service. “The parish,” said he, “is small, the duty light, the
income good (£400 per annum), and it is situated in a fine, healthy,
sporting country.” “Alas!” replied Fletcher, “alas, Sir, Dunham will not
suit me; there is too much money, and too little labour.” “Few clergymen
make such objections,” rejoined Mr. Hill. “It is a pity to decline such
a living, especially as I know not that I can find you another. What
shall we do? Would you like Madeley?” “That, Sir,” said Fletcher, “would
be the very place for me.” “My object,” answered Mr. Hill, “is to make
you comfortable in your own way. If you prefer Madeley, I shall find no
difficulty in persuading Mr. Chambers to exchange it for Dunham, which
is worth more than twice as much as Madeley.”[65]
Footnote 65:
Cox’s “Life of Fletcher,” p. 32.
An arrangement was soon made. Mr. Hill’s nephew was the patron of the
Madeley living; and Mr. Hill himself the patron of that of Dunham. The
uncle and nephew met at Shrewsbury races, and there, on a _racecourse_,
of all places in the world, it was settled that the Madeley living
should be offered to Fletcher. The presentation was made; but Fletcher,
at the last moment, hesitated to accept it, and wrote to his friend
Charles Wesley as follows:—
“TERN, _September 26, 1760_.
“A fortnight ago, the minister of this parish, with whom I have had no
connection for these two years, sent me word (I know not why) that his
pulpit should be at my service at any time.
“Some days after, I ventured a visit of civility to the vicar of a
neighbouring parish, who fell out with me, three years ago, for
preaching faith in his church. He received me with the greatest
kindness, and said often, he would have me take the care of souls
somewhere or other.
“Last Sunday, the vicar of Madeley, to whom I was formally curate,
coming to pay a visit here, expressed great regard for me; seemed to
be quite reconciled: and assured me, that he would do all he could to
serve me; of which he yesterday gave me a proof, by sending me a
testimonial unasked.
“He was no sooner gone, than news was brought that the old clergyman”
(at Dunham) “died suddenly the day before; and that same day, before I
heard it, Mr. Hill, meeting, at the races, his nephew, who is patron
of Madeley, told him, if he would present me to Madeley, he would give
the vicar of that parish the living vacated by the old clergyman’s
death. This was immediately agreed to, as Mr. Hill himself informed me
in the evening, wishing me joy.
“You have repeatedly advised me not to resist Providence, but to
follow its leadings. I am, however, inwardly in suspense. My heart
revolts at the idea of being here alone, opposed by my superiors,
hated by my neighbours, and despised by all the world. Without piety,
without talents, without resolution, how shall I repel the assaults,
and surmount the obstacles which I foresee, if I discharge my duty at
Madeley with fidelity? On the other hand, to reject this presentation,
to burn this certificate, and to leave in the desert the sheep whom
the Lord has evidently brought me into the world to feed, appears to
me nothing but obstinacy and refined self-love. I will hold a middle
course between these extremes: I will be wholly _passive_ in the steps
I must take; and _active_ in praying the Lord to deliver me from the
evil one, and to conduct me in the way He would have me to go.
“If you see anything better, inform me of it speedily; and, at the
same time, remember me in all your prayers, that, if this matter be
not of the Lord, the enmity of the Bishop of Lichfield, who must
countersign my testimonials; the threats of the chaplain of the Bishop
of Hereford, who was a witness to my preaching at West Street; the
objections drawn from my not being naturalized; or some other
obstacle, may prevent the kind intentions of Mr. Hill.”[66]
Footnote 66:
Letters, 1791, p. 106.
Within a week after the date of this communication, several of
Fletcher’s anticipated obstacles were gone. Hence the following, from a
letter addressed to the Countess of Huntingdon, who was visiting the
Rev. Benjamin and Lady Margaret Ingham, in Yorkshire:—
“1760, October 3.—Were I to have my choice, I would prefer waiting at
the pool under your roof, or that of those who think like you, to any
other way of life; and I will own to your ladyship, that the thought
of giving this up is one of the chief difficulties I have now to
encounter. But I seem to be a prisoner of Providence, who is going, in
all probability, to cast my lot among the colliers and forge-men of
Madeley. The two thousand souls of that parish, for whom I was called
into the ministry, are many sheep in the wilderness, which I cannot
sacrifice to my own private choice.
“When I was suffered to attend them, for a few days, some began to
return to the Shepherd of their souls, and I found it then in my heart
to spend and be spent for them. It is true, when I was sent away from
them, that zeal cooled to such a degree, that I have wished a thousand
times they might never be committed to my care; but the impression of
the tears of those who, when I left them, ran after me crying, ‘Who
will now show us the way to heaven?’ never quite wore off, and, upon
second thoughts, I always concluded that, if the Lord made my way
plain to their church, I could not run away from it without disobeying
the order of Providence.
“That time is come. The church is vacated; the presentation to it
brought, unasked for, into my hands; the difficulty of getting proper
testimonials, which I looked upon as insurmountable, vanishes at once;
the three clergymen that had opposed me with the most bitterness,
signed them; the Bishop of Lichfield countersigns them without the
least objection; the lord of the manor, my great opposer, leaves the
parish; and the very man (the vicar), who told me I should never
preach in that church, now recommends me to it, and tells me he will
induct me himself.
“Are not these intimations of the will of God? It seems so to me. What
does your ladyship think? I long to go and consult you in Yorkshire,
but cannot do it now, without giving up the point on which I want your
advice.”[67]
Footnote 67:
“Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 237.
There is, or, at least, there used to be, in the parish vestry at
Madeley, a book containing the following inscription:—“John Fletcher,
clerk, was inducted to the vicarage of Madeley, the 17th of October,
1760. John Fletcher, vicar.”
The deed was done. Wesley had strongly opposed his acceptance of the
Madeley living, telling him that to take a living was not his calling.
Charles Wesley’s advice is unknown; but, probably, it was the reverse of
his brother’s. John desired and greatly needed the help of an ordained
clergyman, not only to preach, but to administer the sacraments to the
multiplying Methodists. He tried to retain Fletcher, a minister to his
own heart’s content; but he failed. It was well he did. In the
itinerancy, Fletcher’s time for reading and study would have been
extremely limited. At Madeley, he had abundance of leisure for both,
and, during the next ten years, acquired that theological wealth, which,
in the hour of need, enabled him to be of the greatest service to
Wesley, by the writing of his unanswerable “Checks to Antinomianism.”
Wesley’s opposition is mentioned in the following extracts from two
letters addressed to the Countess of Huntingdon:—
”1760, October 28. All the little circumstances of my institution and
induction have taken such an easy turn, that I question whether any
clergyman ever got over them with less trouble. I preached last
Sunday, for the first time, in my church, and shall continue to do so,
though I propose staying with Mr. Hill till he leaves the country,
which will be, I suppose, in a fortnight, partly to comply with him to
the last, and partly to avoid falling out with my predecessor, who is
still at Madeley, but who will remove about the same time.
”Among many little providences, I shall mention one to your ladyship.
The Bishop having unexpectedly sent me word to go to him for
institution without delay, if I wished not to be at the trouble of
following him to London, I set out in haste for Hereford, where I
arrived the day before his lordship’s departure. As I went along, I
thought that if my going to Madeley was from the Lord, it was
providential that I should thus be called to be instituted in the
country, for were it to be in London, Sir Peter Rivers, the Bishop’s
chaplain, who examined me for orders, and who made so much noise last
summer in West Street Chapel, where he found me preaching, would
infallibly defeat the end of my journey, according to his
threatenings. Thus did worldly wisdom work in my heart; but no
divination can stand against the God of Jacob, who is a jealous God,
and does not give His glory to another. A clergyman, named Sir Dutton
Colt, came to see the Bishop just as I entered the palace, and the
secretary, coming to him, said in my hearing, ‘Sir Peter is just come
from London to take possession of a prebend, which the Bishop has
given him; he is now in the palace; how do you rank with him?’ My
surprise was great, for a moment, and my first thought was to ride
away without institution; but, having gone too far to retreat, I had
an instant strength from on high to be still and see the salvation of
the Lord. My second thought was to thank God for sending this man from
London in that point of time to defeat Mr. Hill’s design; and, easily
throwing up Madeley, I cried for strength to make a good confession
before the high priest and the scribe; and I felt I had it, but I was
not called to use it, for the Bishop was alone, the ceremony was over
in ten minutes, and Sir Peter did not come in till after. I met him at
the door of the Bishop’s room, and a wig I had on that day prevented
his recollecting who I was. Your ladyship cannot conceive how thankful
I was for this little incident, not because I was not disappointed of
a living, but because I saw and felt, that, had I been disappointed,
it would have been no disappointment to me.
”If I know anything of myself, I shall be much more ready to resign my
benefice, when I have had a fair trial of my unprofitableness to the
people committed to my care, than I was to accept it. Mr. John Wesley
bids me do it without a trial. He will have me ‘see the devil’s snare,
and fly from it at the peril of my soul.’ I answer, I cannot see it in
that light. He adds, ‘Others may do well in a living; you cannot; it
is not your calling.’ I tell him, I readily own that I am not fit to
plant or water any part of the Lord’s vineyard; but that _if_ I am
called at all, I am called to preach at Madeley, where I was first
sent into the ministry, and where a chain of providences, I could not
break, has again fastened me; and that, though I may be as
unsuccessful as Noah, yet I am determined to try to be there a
preacher of Christ’s righteousness; and that, notwithstanding my
inability, I am not without hopes, that He who reproved a prophet’s
madness by the mouth of an ass, may reprove a collier’s profaneness
even by my mouth.
”I reserve for another letter an account of my own soul, and of what
begins to be as dear to me as my own soul—_my parish_.”[68]
Footnote 68:
“Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 238.
The other letter, here promised, was written three weeks later. The
following is an extract from it:—
“TERN, _November 19, 1760_.
“I have hitherto written my sermons, but I am carried so far beyond my
notes when in the pulpit, that I propose preaching with only my
sermon-case in my hand next Friday, when I shall venture on an evening
lecture for the first time. I question whether I shall have above
half-a-dozen hearers; but I am resolved to try.
“The weather and the roads are so bad, that the way to the church is
almost impracticable; nevertheless all the seats were full last
Sunday. Some begin to come from adjacent parishes, and some more (as
they say) _threaten_ to come when the season permits.
“I cannot yet discern any deep work, or indeed anything but what will
always attend the crying down of man’s righteousness, and the
insisting upon Christ’s—I mean a general liking among the poor; and
offence, ridicule, and opposition among the ‘reputable’ and ‘wise’
people. Should the Lord vouchsafe to plant the Gospel in this county,
my parish seems to be the best spot for the centre of such a work, as
it lies among the most populous, profane, and ignorant.
“But it is well if, after all, there is _any_ work in my parish. I
despair even of this, when I look at myself, and quite fall in with
Mr. John Wesley’s opinion about me; though I sometimes hope the Lord
has not sent me here for nothing. I am, however, fully determined to
resign my living, if the Lord does not think me worthy to be His
instrument. I abhor the title of a living for a living’s sake; it is
death to me.
“There are three meetings in my parish—a Papist, Quaker, and Baptist,
and they begin to call the fourth _the Methodist_ one—I mean the
Church. But the bulk of the inhabitants are stupid heathens, who seem
past all curiosity, as well as all sense of godliness. I am ready to
run after them into their pits and forges, and I only wait for
Providence to show me the way. I am often reduced to great perplexity;
but the end of it is sweet. I am driven to the Lord, and He comforts,
encourages, and teaches me. I sometimes feel that zeal which forced
Paul to wish to be accursed for his brethren’s sake; but I want to
feel it without interruption. The devil, my friends, and my heart have
pushed at me to make me fall into worldly cares and creature
snares,—first, by the thoughts of marrying; then, by the offers of
several boarders, one of whom, a Christian youth, offered me £60 a
year; but I have been enabled to cry, ‘_Nothing but Jesus, and the
service of His people_;’ and I trust the Lord will keep me in the same
mind.”[69]
Footnote 69:
“Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 239.
In such a way and spirit did Fletcher begin his ministry of twenty-five
years’ duration at Madeley. Comment on his simple and honest letters is
unnecessary; it would be uninstructive meddling, which would try the
reader’s patience.