The College of Trevecca.
An important episode in the life of John Fletcher was his association
with the College of Trevecca, opened by the Countess of Huntingdon,
for young men who desired to devote themselves to the service of
Christ. A gratuitous education for three years, with lodging, board,
and clothing, was provided for each student, the young men being
afterwards free to enter whatever church they preferred.
Above all, it was important that the College should have a President
whose advice could be relied upon concerning the choice, conduct and
work of both masters and students--practically an unsalaried head of
affairs. To this post was called the Vicar of Madeley, and though
naturally unable to be resident in the College, he accepted the duties
of President, and, as such, gave most valuable service.
A little later than this Fletcher undertook to be Chaplain (one of
three) to the Earl of Buchan, who was known as one of the most devoted
Christians of his rank.
Notwithstanding these duties, Fletcher's work became increasingly
itinerant in character. Wesley says:--
"For many years he regularly preached at places eight, ten, and
sixteen miles off, returning the same night, though he seldom got home
before one or two in the morning. At a little Society which he had
gathered about six miles from Madeley, he preached two or three times
a week, beginning at five in the morning.... In some of his journeys
he had not only difficulties, but dangers likewise, to encounter. One
day, as he was riding over a wooden bridge, just as he got to the
middle thereof, it broke in. The mare's forelegs sank into the river,
but her breast and hinder parts were kept up by the bridge. In that
position she lay as still as if she had been dead, till he got over
her neck and took off his bags, in which were several MSS., the
spoiling of which would have occasioned much trouble. He then
endeavoured to raise her up, but she would not stir till he went over
the other part of the bridge. But no sooner did he set his feet upon
the ground than she began to plunge. Immediately the remaining part of
the bridge broke down and sunk with her into the river. But presently
she rose and swam to him."
Other adventures befell Fletcher in his travels, some of them ending
in the narrowest escapes from injury and death.
In the early part of the year 1770 Fletcher visited Italy, France, and
his native Switzerland, with his friend Mr. Ireland. Few details are
preserved, but it seems to have been an uncommonly lively tour. Mr.
Ireland tells of the Vicar's enthusiasm for unmasking various
practices of the Italian priests, which placed them frequently in
danger of their lives.
During this trip they met with a classical scholar who said he had
"travelled all over Europe, and had passed through all the societies
in England to find a person whose life corresponded with the Gospels
and with Paul's Epistles." Almost defiantly he demanded of Mr. Ireland
if he knew a single clergyman or Dissenting minister in his native
land possessed of £100 a year who would not desert his living for any
other if offered double that amount. Mr. Ireland triumphantly pointed
to his travelling companion, saying, "_That_ man would not!"
The traveller turned to Mr. Fletcher and began a religious argument,
which the two kept up at intervals for a whole week. The Vicar
overcame his opponent again and again, and though the latter lost his
temper continually over his repeated defeats, the calm, sweet
reasonableness of Fletcher's spirit, as much as the overwhelming
weight of his arguments for Jesus Christ, made a lasting impression
upon his mind. Eight years later he showed his appreciation by
becoming the Vicar's host in Provence, and treating him with the
greatest reverence and attention.
While in Paris he was sent for to visit a sick woman. Information
having been given to a magistrate which ascribed to him wrong motives,
a garbled case was got up, and an order of apprehension was issued
from the King. An officer called at the house where the friends were
staying to serve the order. Mr. Ireland stepped out and, without
mentioning his name, said quietly, "Sir, have you an order for me?" "I
have," responded the officer, taking him for Fletcher. They went off
together, and Mr. Fletcher was well out of the city before the
magistrate disgustedly discovered the mistake.
When in the south of France, Fletcher determined to visit the
Protestants of the Cevennes Mountains, and nothing would serve him but
that he should perform the long and difficult journey on foot, with
but a staff in his hand. He disdained to appear well cared for, and on
horseback, at the doors of those whose fathers were hunted for their
faith from rock to rock. He set out in his own fashion, therefore; on
the first night of his travels begging the use of a chair in some
humble cottage until morning. The peasant was reluctant to admit his
strange guest, but when he had heard him talk and pray, himself, no
less than his wife and children, were affected to tears. "I nearly
refused to let a stranger into my house," related the peasant to his
neighbours, "but when he came I found more angel than man."
Nor was this the only person who held such an opinion. Wesley tells of
another visit paid by the Vicar upon his way to call upon a minister
of the district. A little crowd was assembled at the door of a house
where a mother and her newly-born child were dying. The room was also
filled with neighbours. Fletcher went in, spoke gently to the people
present of the effects of the sin of our first parent, and pointed
them to Jesus. "Jesus!" he exclaimed, "He is able to raise the dead,
to save you all from sin, to save these from death. Come, let us ask
Him!"
In prayer he had wondrous liberty. The child's convulsions ceased, the
mother became easy, and strength flowed into her as he prayed. The
neighbours gazed astonished, and silently withdrew, whispering to one
another when without the house, "_Certainly it was an angel!_"
On their journey from France to Italy the travellers arrived at the
Appian Way. Fletcher stopped the carriage and descended, remarking to
his friend, "I cannot _ride_ over ground where the Apostle Paul
once _walked,_ chained to a soldier;" and taking off his hat he
walked up the old Roman road praising God for the glorious Gospel
preached by His servant of long ago.
Nor was this affectation upon Fletcher's part. Nothing was further
from his thoughts at any time than to _make an impression_ upon
those around him. Perhaps for this very reason the mark he did make
was indelible. No man ever spent an hour with the Vicar of Madeley
without being spiritually better for it.
Arrived at Nyon, he was pressed to occupy several pulpits. Crowds
flocked after him from place to place, sinners were awakened, scoffers
silenced, and many were brought to seek Jesus as the only Saviour.
One aged minister besought him to prolong his visit, if only for an
additional week. When assured it was impossible, he turned to Mr.
Ireland with tears running down his cheeks. "Oh, sir," he exclaimed,
"how unfortunate for my country! During my lifetime it has produced
but one angel of a man, and now it is our lot to. lose him."
The parting from these good people was almost overwhelming. Some of
the multitude which gathered to say good-bye followed the carriage for
over two miles, unwilling to lose sight of one who had brought them so
near to God.
More than ordinary welcome awaited him at Trevecca. Joseph Benson--
headmaster of the College, and Fletcher's biographer in latter days--
wrote of it thus:--
"He was received as an angel of God. It is not possible for me to
describe the veneration in which we all held him. Like Elijah in the
schools of the prophets, he was revered; he was loved; he was almost
adored; not only by every student, but by every member of the family.
"And, indeed, he was worthy. . . . Though by the body he was tied down
to earth, _his whole conversation was in Heaven_. His _life_,
from day to day, was _hid with Christ in God._ Prayer, praise,
love, and zeal, all ardent, elevated above what one would think
attainable in this state of frailty, were the element in which he
continually lived. As to others, his one employment was to call,
entreat and urge them to ascend with him to the glorious source of
being and blessedness. He had leisure, comparatively, for nothing
else. Languages, arts, sciences, grammar, rhetoric, logic, even
divinity itself, were all laid aside when he appeared in the
schoolroom among the students. His full heart would not suffer him to
be silent. He _must_ speak, and they were readier to hearken to
this servant and minister of Jesus Christ than to attend to Sallust,
Virgil, Cicero, or any Latin or Greek historian, poet, or philosopher
they had been engaged in reading. And they seldom hearkened long
before they were all in tears, and every heart catched lire from the
flame that burned in his soul.
"These seasons generally terminated in this. Being convinced that to
be 'filled with the Holy Ghost' was a better qualification for the
ministry of the Gospel than any classical learning...after speaking
awhile in the schoolroom, he used frequently to say, 'As many of you
as are athirst for the fulness of the Spirit, follow me into my room.'
On this, many of us instantly followed him, and there continued till
noon, _for two or three hours_, praying for one another till we
could bear to kneel no longer.... I have sometimes seen him...so
filled with the love of God that he cried out, 'O my God, withhold Thy
hand, or the vessel will burst!' But he afterwards told me he was
afraid he had grieved the Spirit of God, and that he ought to have
prayed that the Lord would have enlarged the vessel, or have suffered
it to break, that the soul might have had no further bar to its
enjoyment of the Supreme Good."
Few headmasters have had the opportunity to speak of the President of
their college as the headmaster of Trevecca was led to do of Fletcher.