Scanty Encouragements.
Fletcher's encouragements at Madeley were at first sufficiently scanty
to have disheartened many an earnest man.
Two Marys were amongst his earliest converts. Mary Matthews, of
Madeley Wood, went to hear him with the mind of the Pharisee, but she
left his presence with the heart of the publican. Having obtained the
pardon of her sins, she opened her little house for preaching, and
stood firm, although threatened by some of the villagers with a drum-
led mob, and eventually haled before the magistrates and fined £20 for
the offence of turning her cottage into a conventicle.
Mary Barnard, a lame old women of ninety, counted no pain or distance
too great to prevent her from making her toilsome journey to the
church where she "first saw the light," and, uneducated as she was,
her definite testimony to the power of the cleansing Blood often
cheered the preacher who had blessed her.
Fletcher's methods were unique for the times in which he lived. There
was no hiding from him. Those who tried to escape his influence by
avoiding his preachings were pursued into their various haunts and
homes under all kinds of circumstances and at all hours. Some
pretended that they could not awake in time to get ready for his early
services; he responded by going out himself with a bell and sounding
such clashing peals in various parts of the parish that there remained
no shadow of excuse for their sleeping after 5 a.m.!
He adopted the practice of dealing with criticisms and objections from
the pulpit, a course sufficiently unusual to attract much attention to
what he had to say.
Work as he might, however, Fletcher received so little encouragement
that he was frequently burdened with the fear lest he had mistaken the
Divine appointment.
One day, when he was much oppressed in this way, he was summoned to
bury a parishioner. At once he lost sight of his own trouble in the
opportunity of dealing out red-hot truths to a crowd of people. One
man was so convicted that he broke out into a storm of bad language,
fighting as best he knew how the strange influences of the Spirit.
These were too strong for him, however, and he melted into tears of
penitence. How gladly the Vicar gave him the pardon he asked for his
behaviour, and led him further still into the joy of sins forgiven,
can never be told. From that time he became an active helper in the
parish, and one of Fletcher's greatest encouragements.
The conversion of this man, however, seemed only the signal for
greater opposition on the part of some of the colliers. A number of
them were baiting a bull near Madeley Wood Meeting-house one night
when he was expected there to preach. "We'll wait here and _bait the
parson!_" they cried, settling at once who should pull him off his
horse, and who should set the dogs upon him.
Mr. Fletcher, all unsuspectingly, prepared for his walk to the wood,
but on the threshold was met by a messenger who had forgotten to give
notice of the burial of a child who was even then being carried up for
its funeral. Here was a duty which could not be put off; the Vicar
stayed to attend to it, and so missed his preaching appointment.
The men waited in vain, then repaired to a public-house to drink and
curse their ill-luck. As they swore horrible oaths a huge china punch-
bowl standing in the room fell in small fragments. This so impressed
one of the number that he rose and left the place, vowing there and
then to break with his old companions, and seek the salvation of his
soul.
A somewhat well-known story is connected with Fletcher's sensitiveness
to the influence of the Spirit with regard to his message for men. He
had entered the pulpit one Sunday morning at Madeley to preach a
sermon prepared for the purpose, when all remembrance of it fled; he
could not even recall the text. Instantly throwing himself upon the
Spirit of God for guidance, he turned to the First Lesson for the day,
which happened to be the history of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.
As soon as he began to make some remarks upon it thoughts flowed,
words burned, and he found himself so strangely upheld and inspired
that he felt certain God intended the word for someone of whom he was
not himself aware. So sure did he become of this fact that he
requested to be privately informed if this were the case.
Three days later a woman called at the vicarage and told him that she
had for some time been greatly concerned about her soul through
attending his services. Her husband noticed her habits of private
prayer, and in a violent rage threatened her with frightful
consequences if she did not refrain from her church-going. She told
him her conscience would not allow that, and with terrible oaths he
cried, "I'll cut your throat as soon as you come back, if you go!"
The poor woman only prayed the harder, and when Sunday morning came
she dressed herself for church as usual. As she passed through the
kitchen her husband bellowed out, "I shall not cut your throat as I
said, I shall heat the big oven and throw you into it the minute you
get back." To the accompaniment of savage swearing she closed the door
and made her way to the church, praying all the time that God would
strengthen her to suffer whatever might befall her.
In grateful amaze she drank in every word of Fletcher's impromptu talk
upon the three martyrs in the fiery furnace, and to herself she cried
softly, "If I had a thousand lives I'd lay them all down for Jesus!"
Knowing the brutal nature of her husband--a butcher by trade--she was
quite prepared for the worst that might happen to her, but God kept
her in utter and perfect peace when she actually saw flames issuing
from the oven. She was even _joyful_ as she opened the door to
death.
Then, to her unspeakable astonishment, she saw her husband upon his
knees, beseeching God to pardon his sins. He caught her in his arms,
crying, "Forgive me, wife; oh, forgive me if you can!" turning from
her only to cry yet more earnestly to God for the mercy he had been
led by the Spirit Himself to seek.
With here and there such incidents to cheer him, Fletcher found, after
two years of rough work and numberless hindrances, that public respect
was taking the place of open opposition, and the word of truth, sown
in difficulty and hardness, was beginning to bring forth fruit in many
hearts. Wesley says of him:--
"Having chosen this narrow field of action, he was more and more
abundant in his ministerial labours, both in public and in private,
not contenting himself with preaching, but visiting his flock in every
corner of his parish. And this work he attended to, early and late,
whether the weather was fair or foul, regarding neither heat nor cold,
rain nor snow, whether he was on horseback or on foot. But this
farther weakened his constitution, which was still more effectively
done by his intense and uninterrupted studies, in which he frequently
continued with scarce any intermission fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen
hours a day. But still he did not allow himself such food as was
necessary to sustain nature. He seldom took any regular meals, except
he had company; otherwise, twice or thrice in four and twenty hours he
ate some bread and cheese or fruit. Instead of this, he sometimes took
a draught of milk, and then wrote on again. When one reproved him for
not affording himself a sufficiency of necessary food, he replied,
'Not allow myself food? Why, our food seldom costs my housekeeper and
me together less than two shillings a week!'"