Chapter XXI: A Long Retirement (1)

778–1781.

WHEN the travellers arrived at Dover, Fletcher wrote as follows to his hospitable friends at Stoke Newington:—

“Ten thousand blessings light upon the heads and hearts of my dear
benefactors, Charles and Mary Greenwood! May their quiet retreat at
Newington become a Bethel to them! Their poor pensioner travels on,
though slowly, towards the grave. His journey to the sea seems to him
to have hastened, rather than retarded, his progress to his old
mother—Earth. May every Providential blast blow him nearer to the
heavenly haven of his Saviour’s breast; where he hopes to meet all his
benefactors! O, my dear friends, what shall I render? What to Jesus?
what to you? May He, who invites the heavy-laden, take upon Him all
the burdens of kindness you have heaped on your Lazarus! And may
angels, when you die, find me in Abraham’s bosom, and bring you into
_mine_, that by all the kindness which may be shown in heaven, I may
try to requite that you have shown to your obliged brother,

“J. FLETCHER.”[431]

Footnote 431:

Letters, 1791, p. 249.

Leaving Calais on December 12, 1777, the travellers pursued their way to the South of France. Mr. Ireland thus described the journey:—

“When we departed from Calais, the north wind was very high, and
penetrated us even in the chaise. We put up at Bretuil, and the next
day got to Abbeville, whence we were forced, by the miserable
accommodation we met with, to set out, though it was Sunday. Hitherto
Mr. Fletcher and I had led the way, but now the other chaises got
before us. Nine miles from Abbeville our axletree gave way through the
hard frost, and we were left to the piercing cold on the side of a
hill, without shelter. After waiting an hour and a half, we sent the
axletree and wheels back to be repaired; and, leaving the body of the
chaise under a guard, procured another to carry us to the next town.
On the 15th, our chaise arrived in good repair. The country was
covered with snow, but travelling steadily forward, we reached Dijon
on the 27th. During the whole journey, Mr. Fletcher showed marks of
recovery. He bore both the fatigue and cold as well as the best of us.
On the 31st, we put up at Lyons, and solemnly closed the year, bowing
our knees before the throne, which indeed we did all together every
day. January 4, 1778, we left Lyons, and came on the 9th to Aix. Here
we rest, the weather being exceedingly fine and warm. Mr. Fletcher
walks out daily. He is now able to read and pray with us every morning
and evening. He has no remains of his cough nor of the weakness in his
breast. His natural colour is restored, and the sallowness quite gone.
His appetite is good, and he takes a little wine.”

In another letter Mr. Ireland wrote:—

“Soon after our arrival here, I rode out most days with my dear and
valued friend. Now and then he complained of the uneasiness of the
horse, and there were some remains of soreness in his breast; but this
soon went off. The beginning of February was warm, and the warmth,
when he walked in the fields, relaxed him; but when the wind got north
or east, he was braced again. His appetite is good; his complexion as
healthy as it was eleven years ago. As his strength increases, he
increases the length of his rides. Last Tuesday, he set out on a
journey of a hundred and twelve miles. The first day he travelled
forty miles without feeling any fatigue; and the third day fifty-five.
He bore the journey as well as I did; and was as well and as active at
the end of it as at the beginning. During the day, he cried out, ‘Help
me to praise the Lord for His goodness; I never expected to see this
day.’ He accepted a pressing invitation to preach to the Protestants
here; and he fulfilled his engagement on Sunday morning, taking as his
text, ‘Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith.’ Both the
French and English were greatly affected; the word went to the hearts
of both saints and sinners. His voice is now as good as ever it was;
and he has an earnest invitation to preach near Montpelier, where we
are going. You would be astonished at the entreaties of pastors as
well as people. He has received a letter from a minister in the Levine
Mountains, who intends to come to Montpelier, sixty miles, to press
him to go and preach to his flock. He purposes to spend the next
summer in his own country, and the following winter in these
parts.”[432]

Footnote 432:

Wesley’s “Life of Fletcher.”

It was probably at this time that Fletcher and Mr. Ireland made a tour through Italy, and visited Rome, concerning which visit Wesley writes:—

“While he was at Rome, as Mr. Ireland and he were one day going
through the streets in a coach, they were informed the Pope was
coming, and it would be required of them to kneel while he went by, as
all the people did; if they did not, in all probability the mob would
knock them on the head. But this they flatly refused to do; judging
the paying such honour to a man was idolatry. The coachman was
terrified, but turned aside into a narrow way. The Pope was in an open
landau, waved his hands, and frequently repeated, ‘God bless you all!’
Mr. Fletcher’s spirit was greatly stirred, and he longed to bear a
public testimony against anti-Christ; and he would have done it had he
been able to speak Italian. He could hardly refrain from doing it in
Latin, till he considered that only the priests could understand
him.”[433]

Footnote 433:

Wesley’s “Life of Fletcher.”

While in the south of France, Fletcher wrote to Miss Bosanquet the following letter, which is now for the first time published:—

“MARSEILLES, _March 7, 1778_.

“DEAR MADAM,—Your letter did not reach me till after it had lain here,
at the post office, several days.

“I cannot be answerable for what the person you mention thinks of Mr.
Wesley or me, or our sentiments. Nothing is more common than to see
people drawing rash inferences from premises which are partly false
and partly true. I can only answer for myself, and for what I deem to
be the truth.

“If you ask me what I think to be the truth with respect to Christian
perfection, I reply, my sentiments are exposed to the world in my
essay on ‘Christian Perfection,’ and in my essay on ‘Truth,’ where I
lay the stress of the doctrine on the great _promise of the Father_,
and on the _Christian fulness of the Spirit_. This I have done more
particularly in a treatise on the ‘Birth of the Spirit;’ which
treatise is not yet published. I do not rest the doctrine of Christian
perfection on the _absence of sin_,—that is the perfection of a dove
or a lamb; nor on the _loving God with all one’s power_, for I believe
all perfect Gentiles and Jews have done so; but on the _fulness_ of
that superior, nobler, warmer, and _more powerful_ love, which the
Apostle calls the _love of the Spirit_, or _the love of God shed
abroad by the Holy Ghost_, given to the Christian believers, who,
since the Day of Pentecost, go on to the perfection of the Christian
dispensation.

“You will find my views of this matter in Mr. Wesley’s sermons on
Christian Perfection and on Spiritual Christianity; with this
difference, that I would distinguish more exactly between the
believers baptized with the Pentecostal power of the Holy Ghost, and
the believer who, like the Apostles after our Lord’s ascension, is not
yet filled with that power.

“I own to you, Madam, that I have been much surprised to see the gross
inattention to, and unbelief of, the promise of the Father among
believers of various classes. It is the sun among the stars, and yet
some can hardly distinguish it. When I preached it to the Calvinists
in Wales, they called it Mr. Wesley’s _whim_. When I have spoken of it
to our brethren, some have called it Lady Huntingdon’s _whim_; and
others have looked upon it as a _new thing_; which to me is the
strongest proof that this capital Gospel doctrine is as much under a
cloud now as the doctrine of justification by faith was at the time of
the Reformation.

“Should you go back by way of London, my essay on the Birth by which
we enter into the Kingdom in the Holy Ghost is in the hands of Miss
Thornton, Mrs. Greenwood’s sister, who will give it you if you think
worth while to look into it. I build my faith not on my experience,
though this increases it, but upon the revealed truth of God. Go,
Madam, and do the same, and pray for your affectionate brother and
servant,

“J. FLETCHER.

“Miss Bosanquet,
“at Mrs. Southcot’s,
“Broad Mead,
“Bristol.”

The “treatise,” or rather sermon, referred to in this letter, was written in French, and was not published during the lifetime of Fletcher; but in 1794, Henry Moore, one of Wesley’s first biographers, translated and printed it, with the title, “The New Birth. A Discourse written in French, by the Rev. John Fletcher, late Vicar of Madeley, Salop.” 8vo, 39 pp. This was one of the most remarkable productions of Fletcher’s pen; and great would be the service rendered to the cause of Christ if, in this day of loose thinking and carnal living, it were reprinted in a separate form, and read by the myriads who call themselves Methodists. Though mere quotations from it cannot do justice to it, yet two or three may be acceptable.

_Regeneration._—“What is the state of a soul that is born again; and
in what does regeneration consist? In general, we may say, it is that
great change by which man passes from a state of nature to a state of
grace. He was an animal man; in being born again he becomes a
spiritual man. His natural birth had made him like to fallen Adam—to
the old man, against whom God had pronounced the sentence of death,
seeing it is the wages of sin; but his spiritual birth makes him like
to Jesus Christ—to the new man—which is created according to God in
righteousness and true holiness. He was before born a child of
wrath—proud, sensual, and unbelieving, full of the love of the world
and of self-love, a lover of money and of earthly glory and pleasure,
rather than a lover of God; but, by regeneration, he is become a child
and an heir of God, and a joint heir with Christ. The humility, the
purity, the love of Jesus, is shed abroad in his heart by the Holy
Spirit which is given to him, making him bear the image of the _Second
Adam_. He is in Christ a new creature; old things are passed away, all
things are become new. All the powers and faculties of his soul are
renovated. His understanding, heretofore covered with darkness, is
illuminated by the experimental knowledge which he has of God and of
His Son Jesus Christ. His conscience, asleep and insensible, awakes
and speaks with a fidelity irreproachable. His hard heart is softened
and broken. His will, stubborn and perverse, yields, and becomes
conformable to the will of God. His passions, unruly, and earthly, and
sensual, submit to the conduct of grace, and turn of themselves to
objects invisible and heavenly. And the members of his body, servants
more or less to iniquity, are now employed in the service of
righteousness unto holiness.”

_Why regeneration is necessary._—“To rejoice in the pleasures that are
at God’s right hand, it is needful to have senses and a taste that
correspond thereto. The swine trample pearls under their feet. The
elevated discourse of a philosopher is insupportable to a stupid
mechanic; and an ignorant peasant, introduced into a circle of men of
learning and taste, is disgusted, sighs after his village, and
declares no hour ever appeared to him so long. It would be the same to
a man who is not regenerated, if we could suppose that God would so
far forget His truth as to open to him the gate of heaven. He would be
incapable of those transports of love which make the happiness of the
glorified saints. It would be insupportable for him now to meditate
one hour on the perfections of God; what then shall He do among the
_cherubim_ and _seraphim_, and _the spirits of just men made perfect_,
who draw from thence their ravishing delights? He loves the pleasures
and comforts of an animal life; but are these the same with the
exercises of the spiritual life? His conversations, his readings, his
amusements, as void of edification as of usefulness, rarely fatigue
him; but an hour of meditation or prayer is insufferable. If he be not
born again, not only he cannot be in a state to rejoice in the
pleasures of Paradise, any more than a deaf man to receive with
transport the most exquisite music; but the ravishing delights of
angels would cause in him an insupportable distaste. Yes, he would
banish himself from the presence of God, rather than pass an eternity
in prostrating himself before the throne, and crying day and night,
_Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts, who is, and who was, and who
is to come!_ We conclude that the gate of heaven must be opened upon
earth by regeneration, and by the love of God, or that it will remain
shut for ever; and that a local paradise would be only a sorrowful
prison, to a man not regenerated, because, carrying nothing thither
but depraved and earthly appetites and passions, and finding nothing
there but spiritual and celestial objects, disgust and dissatisfaction
would be the consequence; and, like Satan, his own mind would be his
hell.”

Perorations are too often rhetorical flourishes, and nothing more; but, in the case of Fletcher, they were the outpourings of a heart overcharged with feeling. The following is the last paragraph in the remarkable “Treatise” from which the foregoing extracts are taken:—

“I conjure you by the majesty of that God before whom angels rejoice
with trembling;—by the terror of the Lord, who may speak to you in
thunder, and this instant require your soul of you;—by the tender
mercies, the bowels of compassion of your heavenly Father, which are
moved in your favour, all ungrateful as you are!—I conjure you by the
incarnation of the Eternal Word, by whom you were created;—by the
humiliation, the pains, the temptations, the tears, the bloody sweat,
the agony, the cries of our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ!—I
conjure you by the bonds, the insults, the scourgings, the robes of
derision, the crown of thorns, the ponderous cross, the nails, the
instruments of death which pierced His torn body; by the arrows of the
Almighty, the poison of which drank up His spirit; by that mysterious
stroke of Divine wrath, and by those unknown terrors which forced Him
to exclaim, ‘My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me!’—I conjure you
by the interests of your immortal soul, and by the unseen accidents
which may precipitate you into eternity;—by the bed of death, upon
which you will soon be stretched, and by the useless sighs which you
will then pour out, if your peace be not made with God!—I conjure you
by the sword of Divine justice, and by the sceptre of grace;—by the
sound of the last trumpet, and by the sudden appearance of the Lord
Jesus Christ, with ten thousand of His holy angels;—by that august
tribunal, at which you will appear with me, and which shall decide our
lot for ever;—by the vain despair of hardened sinners, and by the
unknown transports of regenerate souls!—I conjure you from this
instant work out your salvation with fear and trembling! Enter by the
door into the sheepfold. Sell all to purchase the pearl of great
price. Count all things dung and dross in comparison of the excellency
of the knowledge of Jesus Christ. Let Him not go till He blesses you
with that faith which justifies, and that sanctification without which
no man shall see the Lord. And, soon transported from this vale of
tears into the mansions of the just made perfect, you shall cast your
crown of immortal glory at the feet of Him that sitteth upon the
throne, and before the Lamb who has redeemed us by His blood: to whom
be the blessing, and the honour, and the glory, and the power for ever
and ever! Amen.”

It is time to return to Fletcher in the south of France. At the close of his sojourn here, he wrote as follows to his curate, Mr. Greaves:—

“MY VERY DEAR BROTHER,—I received a letter yesterday from my second
brother, who acquaints me, that he was to set out the 23rd of last
month, to come hither” (Montpelier), “and take me to my native
country, where my sick sister wants greatly to see me; so that, if it
please God, I shall, next week, leave this place. The winter has been
uncommonly rainy and windy; and even last week we had half an inch of
snow. The climate has, nevertheless, agreed with me better than
England, and, as a proof of it, I need only tell you, that I rode last
Friday, from Hieres, the orange gardens of France, hither, which is
nearly fifty miles, and was well enough to preach last Sunday in
French at the Protestant Church. Two English clergymen came to hear
me, and one of them takes these lines to England, where I hope they
will find you in health of body and soul, growing in strength of
faith, in firmness of hope, and in fervency of love to God and man,
and especially to those whom you are tempted to think hardly of, if
any such there be. O my dear brother, no religion will do us or our
people any good, but that which ‘works by love,’—humble, childlike,
obedient love. May that religion fill our souls, and influence all our
tempers, words, and actions, and may the leaven leaven the whole lump!
May St. James’s peaceable religion spread through all our parish!

“I hope you are settled to your satisfaction; and I shall be glad to
do what is in my power to make your stay at Madeley agreeable. I wish
you may have as much success as we desire; but, whatever success we
have, we must cast our bread upon the waters, though we should see as
little fruit as he that said of old, ‘I have laboured in vain:’ for
our reward will be with the Lord, if not with men.”[434]

Footnote 434:

Benson’s “Life of Fletcher.”

In company with his brother, Fletcher left Montpelier, and arrived at Nyon, the place of his nativity, where, in the house once occupied by his father, he received the utmost attention from his affectionate relatives, and had medical advice equal to any to be obtained in Europe. One of his first acts was to write “to the Societies in and about Madeley.” He addressed them as “My dear, very dear brethren;” charged them all to meet him in heaven, “with all the mind that was in Christ;” and sent his “love and thanks to Mr. Murlin and Mr. Roberts,” the two Methodist preachers stationed at Chester, showing that Madeley, at this period, was a part of the Chester circuit.[435]

Footnote 435:

Letters, 1791, p. 43.

Soon afterwards, he wrote to his beloved medical adviser, in England, Mr. William Perronet, as follows:—

“NYON, _May 15, 1778_.

“The climate, and prospect, and fine roads, and pure air I enjoy here,
had contributed to strengthen me a little; when, about a month ago,
something I was chewing got into my windpipe, and caused a fit of
coughing which lasted half-an-hour. I then began to spit blood again,
and ever since I have had a bad cough, which has sometimes exercised
me violently for an hour after my first sleep. My cough, however, has
been better the last two days, and I hope it will go off. I have
bought a quiet horse, whose easy pace I can bear; and I ride much. I
have not ventured upon preaching since I came hither: it would be
impossible for me now to go through it. If the weather should grow
hot, I may, at any time, go to the hills, the foot of which is five or
six miles distant. I drink goats’ milk, and have left off meat since
the cough came on, but design eating a little again at dinner.”[436]

Footnote 436:

Benson’s “Life of Fletcher.”

Two days after the date of this letter, Fletcher was at Macon, whither he had gone to meet his friend Mr. Ireland, on his return from Montpelier to England. Whilst he was here, he wrote two letters, which must be quoted. The first, addressed to “The Rev. Messrs. John and Charles Wesley,” was as follows:—

“MACON, IN BURGUNDY, _May 17, 1778_.

“REV. AND DEAR SIRS,—I hope while I lie by, the Lord continues to
renew your vigour, and sends you to water His vineyard, and to stand
in the gap against error and vice.

“I preached twice at Marseilles, but was not permitted to follow the
blow. There are few noble, inquisitive Bereans in these parts. The
ministers in the town of my nativity have been very civil. They have
offered me the pulpit; but, I fear, if I could accept the offer, it
would soon be recalled. I am loath to quit this part of the field
without casting a stone at that giant, sin, who stalks about with
uncommon boldness. I shall, therefore, stay some months longer, to see
if the Lord will give me strength to venture an attack.

“Gambling and dress, sinful pleasure and love of money, unbelief and
false philosophy, lightness of spirit, fear of man, and love of the
world, are the principal sins by which Satan binds his captives in
these parts. Materialism is not rare; Deism and Socinianism are very
common; and a set of Free-thinkers, great admirers of Voltaire[437]
and Rosseau, Bayle and Mirabeau, seem bent upon destroying
Christianity and government. If we believe them, the world is the dupe
of kings and priests. Religion is fanaticism and superstition.
Subordination is slavery. Christian morality is absurd, unnatural, and
impracticable; and Christianity the most bloody religion that ever
was. And here it is certain, that, by the example of Christians _so
called_, and by our continual disputes, they have a great advantage,
and do the truth immense mischief. _Popery will certainly fall in
France, in this or the next century_; and I have no doubt God will use
those vain men to bring about a reformation here, as he used Henry the
Eighth to do that work in England; so the madness of His enemies
shall, at last, turn to His praise, and to the futherance of His
kingdom.

“In the meantime, it becomes all lovers of the truth to make their
heavenly tempers, and humble, peaceful love to shine before all men,
that those mighty adversaries, seeing the good works of professors,
may glorify their Father who is in heaven, and no more blaspheme that
worthy name, by which we are all called Christians.

“If you ask, what system these men adopt? I answer, some build on
Deism a morality founded on _self-preservation_, _self-interest_, and
_self-honour_. Others laugh at all morality, except that which being
neglected _violently_ disturbs society. And external order is the
decent covering of Fatalism, while Materialism is their system.

“Oh, dear Sirs, let me entreat you, in these dangerous days, to use
your wide influence, with unabated zeal, against the scheme of these
modern Celsuses, Porphyries, and Julians, by calling all professors to
think and speak the same things, to love and embrace one another, and
to firmly resist those daring men; many of whom are already in
England, headed by the admirers of Mr. Hume and Mr. Hobbes. But it is
needless to say this to those who have made, and continue to make,
such a stand for vital Christianity; so that I have nothing to do but
pray that the Lord may abundantly support and strengthen you, and make
you a continued comfort to His enlightened people, loving reprovers of
those who mix light with darkness, and a terror to the perverse.

“I need not tell you, Sirs, that the hour in which Providence shall
make my way plain to return to England, to unite with those who feel
or seek the power of Christian godliness, will be welcome to me. O
favoured Britons! Happy would it be for them, if they knew their
Gospel privileges!

“My relations in Adam are all very kind to me; but the spiritual
relations, whom God has raised me in England, exceed them yet. Thanks
be to Christ, and to His blasphemed religion!

“I am, Rev. Sirs, your affectionate son, and obliged servant in the
Gospel,

“J. FLETCHER.”[438]

Footnote 437:

Thirteen days after the date of this letter, Voltaire, in Paris, took
a large dose of opium, without the advice of his physicians, and died.

Footnote 438:

_Arminian Magazine_, 1788, p. 384.

On the day after the date of this letter, Fletcher wrote the following to the Rev. Dr. Conyers, another Methodist Clergyman, to whom he had sent his “_Reconciliation; or, an easy Method to unite the people of God_,” published in 1777:—

“MACON, IN BURGUNDY, _May 18, 1778_.

“HON. AND DEAR SIR,—I left orders, with a friend, to send you a little
book called ‘_The Reconciliation_,’ in which I endeavour to bring
nearer the children of God, who are divided about their _partial_
views of divine truths. I know not whether that tract has, in any
degree, answered its design; but I believe truth can be reconciled
with itself, and the candid children of God one with another. O that
some _abler_ hand, and _more loving_ heart, would undertake to mend my
plan, or draw one more agreeable to the Word of God! My eyes are upon
_you_, dear Sir, and those who are like-minded with you, for this
work. Disappoint not my hope. Stand forth, and make way for
reconciling love, by removing, so far as lies in you, what is in the
way of brotherly union.

“O Sir! the work is worthy of you. If you saw with what boldness the
false philosophers of the continent, who are the apostles of the age,
attack Christianity, and represent it as one of the worst religions in
the world, and fit only to make the professors of it murder one
another, or at least to contend among themselves, and how they urge
our disputes to make the Gospel of Christ the jest of nations, and the
abhorrence of all flesh, you would break through your natural
timidity, and invite all our brethren in the ministry to unite and
form a close battalion, and face the common enemy.

“O dear Sir! take courage. Be bold for reconciling truth. Be bold for
peace. You can do all things through Christ strengthening you; and, as
_Doctor Conyers_, you can do many things, a great many more than you
think. What if you go, Sir, in Christ’s name, to all the Gospel
ministers of your acquaintance, exhort them as a father, entreat them
as a brother, and bring them, or as many of them as you can, together?
Think you that your labour would be in vain in the Lord? Impossible,
Sir! O despair not. If you want a coach, or a friend to accompany you,
when you go upon this errand of love, remember there is a _Thornton_
in London, and an _Ireland_ in Bristol, who will wish you God speed;
and God will raise many more to concur in the peaceful work.

“Let me humbly entreat you to go to work, and to persevere in it. I
wish I had strength to be, at least, your postilion when you go. I
would drive, if not like Jehu, at least with some degree of cheerful
swiftness, while Christ smiled on the Christian attempt. But I am
confident you can do all in the absence of him, who is, with brotherly
love, and dutiful respect, Hon. and dear Sir, your obedient servant in
the Gospel,

“J. FLETCHER.”[439]

Footnote 439:

_Arminian Magazine_, 1788, p. 386.

Dr. Conyers, to whom this letter was addressed, was a notable man. Born at Helmsley, Yorkshire, in 1725, he, in due time, became the Vicar of that extensive parish. His conversion there, and his labours, were remarkable. In 1765, he married Mrs. Knipe, a rich and pious widow, the sister of the well-known John Thornton, Esq., of Clapham. Three years before the foregoing letter was written, Mr. Thornton presented him to the living of St. Paul’s, Deptford; and here he died in 1786, eight months after the death of Fletcher.[440] At the beginning of his evangelical career, he was warmly attached to Wesley, and a firm believer in the doctrines of the Arminians. Afterwards, he was, to some extent, influenced by certain of the Calvinian Ministers, with whom he held converse; but, like his brother-in-law, John Thornton, he was a lover of all good men; and, occupying a kind of neutral position between the contending parties, Fletcher deemed him well qualified to bring about the reconciliation of the two.

Footnote 440:

_Evangelical Magazine_, 1794.

At this period, the venerable Vicar of Shoreham had been recently informed that he was entitled to a valuable estate in Switzerland, and William Perronet, Fletcher’s medical adviser in England, had undertaken to visit Switzerland to enforce his father’s rights. Before doing so, however, he wrote to Fletcher, requesting his advice; and Fletcher’s reply was as follows:—

“NYON, _June 2, 1778_.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,—When I wrote to you last, I mentioned two ladies of
your family who have married two brothers, Messrs. Monod. Since then,
they have requested me to send your father the enclosed memorial,
which I hope will prove of use to your family. As the bad writing and
the language may make the understanding of it difficult, I forward you
the substance of it, and of the letter of the ladies’ lawyer.

“While I invite you to make your title clear to a precarious estate on
earth, permit me, my dear Sir, to remind you of the heavenly
inheritance entailed on believers. The will, the New Testament by
which we can recover it, is proved. The Court is just and equitable;
the Judge is gracious and loving. To enter into possession of a part
of the estate here, and of the whole hereafter, we need only believe
and prove _evangelically_ that we are believers. Let us then set about
it _now_, with earnestness, with perseverance, and with a full
assurance that, through grace, we shall carry our cause. Alas! what
are estates and crowns to grace and glory?

“I have had a pull back since I wrote last. After I left Mr. Ireland
at Macon, to shorten my journey and enjoy new prospects, I ventured to
cross the mountains which separate France from this country. On the
third day of the journey, I found a large hill, whose winding roads
were so steep that, though we fed the horses with bread and wine, they
could scarcely draw the chaise, and I was obliged to walk in all the
steepest places. The climbing lasted several hours; the sun was hot; I
perspired violently; and the next day I spit blood again. I have
chiefly kept to goat’s milk ever since; I find myself better; and my
cough is neither frequent nor violent.

“This is a delightful country. If you come to see it, and to claim the
estate, bring all the papers and memorials you can collect; and share
a pleasant apartment, and one of the finest prospects in the world, in
the house where I was born. I design to try this fine air some months
longer. We have a fine shady wood near the lake, where I can ride in
the cool all the day, and enjoy the singing of a multitude of birds.
But this, though sweet, does not come up to the singing of my dear
friends in England. There I meet them in spirit several hours in the
day.”[441]

Footnote 441:

Letters, 1791, p. 263, and Benson’s “Life of Fletcher.”

The ensuing letter, kindly lent by the Rev. Dr. Knowles, of Tunbridge Wells, has not before been published. It was addressed to “Mr. Power, Druggist, in Broadmead, Bristol, Angleterre.”

“NYON, _June 20, 1778_.

“DEAR SIR,—A journey and my constant rides have hindered me
acknowledging sooner the favour of your observations and criticisms,
which I received some time ago. If I had my little publications here,
to turn to the pages you quote, I would immediately make notes, and
alter or rectify what you object to, as a preparation for a more
correct edition, should the work be ever reprinted. I wish all my
friends had taken as much pains about my works as you have, Sir; they
would by this time be more correct. Accept my sincere thanks for the
favour; and, if I live to see England again, we shall (please God)
talk the matter over fully.

“I am obliged to you for your caution about preaching. I have followed
it, and have not yet preached in this country, though I believe I
shall soon venture again upon it, but with care and in a sparing
manner. I hope at least the Lord will give me grace so to do.

“I heartily rejoice that Mrs. Power has been carried safely, a second
time, through the danger of child-bearing. May she and the two fruits
of her body live to the glory of God, and to your comfort! Remember me
kindly to her; and give my blessing to my god-son, whose will, I hope,
you continue to break with the wisdom, patience, and steadiness which
become a parent.

“I sent your mother a few lines by Mr. Ireland. I hope she received
them; but I shall never get an answer, if what he writes me is true.
Is she dead indeed? Sometimes I hope it is a rumour without
foundation; and yet his account that she died at Bath, where your
letter mentions she was gone, makes me fear he was well-informed. If
she is no more, you have lost a tender mother, and I a kind friend;
but the Lord will make up all our losses, and has already made them up
by giving us His Son. May we receive Him, and with Him all that is
excellent among the living and the dead! As she has been for many
years a woman of sorrow,—a true Hannah—wading almost constantly
through a sea of temptations, they may have followed her to the last,
and she may have escaped out of many tribulations, as the saints
mentioned in the Revelation. A line about it, and about your welfare,
and that of my god-son, will greatly oblige, dear Sir, your obedient
and already obliged servant,

J. FLETCHER.

“My love to your brother, when you see him.”

The next letter, written to Mr. Ireland, contains a sylvan scene worthy of being painted:—

“NYON, _July 15, 1778_.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,—I have ventured to preach once, and to expound once
in the church. Our ministers are very kind, and preach to the purpose.
A young one of this town gave us lately a very excellent gospel
sermon.

“Grown-up people stand fast in their stupidity, or in their
self-righteousness. The day I preached, I met some children in my wood
gathering strawberries. I spoke to them about our _common_ Father. We
felt a touch of brotherly affection. They said they would sing to
their Father, as well as the birds; and followed me, attempting to
make such melody as you know is commonly made in these parts. I
outrode them, but some of them had the patience to follow me home; and
said they would speak with me. The people of the house stopped them,
saying, I would not be troubled with children. They cried, and said,
_they were sure I would not say so, for I was their good brother_. The
next day, when I heard this, I enquired after them, and invited them
to come and see me; which they have done every day since. I make them
little hymns, which they sing. Some of them are unde, sweet drawings.
Yesterday, I wept for joy on hearing one of them speak, as an
experienced believer in Bristol would have done, of conviction of sin,
and of the joy unspeakable in Christ that followed. Last Sunday, I met
them in the wood; there were a hundred of them, and as many adults.
Our first pastor has since desired me to desist from preaching in the
wood (for I had exhorted), for fear of giving umbrage; and I have
complied, from a concurrence of circumstances which are not worth
mentioning; I therefore now meet them in my father’s yard.”[442]

Footnote 442:

Letters, 1791, p. 264.

What a contrast to this scene of gentleness among children is the following!

Fletcher had a nephew, who had been in the Sardinian army, where his ungentlemanly and profligate conduct had given such general offence to his brother officers that they determined to compel him to leave their corps, or to fight them all in succession. After engaging in two or three duels, with various success, the young bravo left the service, and now, during Fletcher’s present visit, he returned to Switzerland. His resources were soon spent in profligacy; and, gaining access to his uncle, General De Gons, he presented a loaded pistol, and said, “Uncle De Gons, if you do not give me a draft on your banker for five hundred crowns, I will shoot you.” The General was a brave man, but, seeing himself in the power of a desperado capable of any mischief, he wrote the draft. “Uncle,” said the young fellow, “you must do another thing; you must promise me, on your honour, to use no means to recover the draft, or to bring me to justice.” The General promised, and the bandit rode away triumphantly. Passing the door of his uncle Fletcher, he called upon him, and told him General De Gons had generously given him five hundred crowns. Fletcher doubted the truthfulness of this statement. The draft was produced. “Let me see it,” said Fletcher. It was handed to him. Fletcher examined it, and remarked, “It is indeed my brother’s writing, and it astonishes me; because my brother is not wealthy, and I know that he justly disapproves your conduct, and that you are the last in the family to whom he would make such a present.” Then, folding the draft and putting it into his pocket, Fletcher added, “It strikes me, young man, that you have obtained this draft improperly; and, in honesty, I cannot return it without my brother’s approbation.” Out came the pistol, and was levelled at Fletcher’s breast. “Return it,” cried the young scoundrel, “or I will take your life.” “My life,” calmly replied Fletcher, “is secure in the protection of the Almighty Power who guards it; nor will He suffer it to be the forfeit of your rashness, or my integrity. Do you think that I, who have been a minister of God for five-and-twenty years, am afraid of death? It is for you to fear death, who have every reason to fear it. You are a gamester and a cheat, yet call yourself a gentleman! You are the seducer of female innocence, and still you say that you are a gentleman! You are a duellist and your hand is red with blood, and for this you call yourself a man of honour! Look there, Sir! look there! See, the broad eye of heaven is upon us. Tremble in the presence of your Maker, who can in a moment kill your body, and for ever damn your soul!” The culprit turned pale; then he argued, threatened, and entreated. Sometimes, taking out his pistol, he fixed himself against the door to prevent egress; and, at other times, closed on frail Fletcher, menacing him with instantaneous death. All was of no avail. The poor country parson was as valorous as the most heroic soldier. He gave no alarm to the family; he sought no weapon; he attempted no escape; he simply conversed with the calmness of a hero and a saint. At length, the young fellow began to be affected; and now, having gained the victory, Fletcher addressed him in another strain: “I cannot return my brother’s draft,” said he; “yet I feel for your distress, and will endeavour to relieve it. My brother Gons, at my request, I am sure will give you a hundred crowns; I will do the same; perhaps my brother Henry will do as much; and I hope your own family will make up the five hundred crowns among them.” Fletcher then fell upon his knees, and began to pray; uncle and nephew parted, and the family, by Fletcher’s mediation, furnished the young scapegrace with the five hundred crowns he had feloniously attempted to extort.[443]

Footnote 443:

Cox’s “Life of Fletcher,” p. 129.

Amidst such scenes, Fletcher did not forget his friends at Madeley. On July 18, he wrote three messages:—

_To his curate, the Rev. Mr. Greaves._—“I trust you lay yourself out
for the good of the flock committed to your care. I shall be glad to
hear that they grow in grace, and humble love.”

_To the congregation in Madeley church._—“John Fletcher begs a farther
interest in the prayers of the congregation of Madeley; and desires
those, who assemble to serve God in the church, to help him to return
public thanks to Almighty God for many mercies received; especially,
for being able to do a little ministerial duty. He humbly beseeches
them to serve God as Christians, and to love one another as brethren;
neglecting no means of grace, and rejoicing in all the hopes of
glory.”

_To the Methodist Societies “in Madeley, Dawley, and the Banks.”_—“We
are all called to grow in grace, and, consequently, in love, which is
the greatest of all Christian graces. Your prayers for my soul and my
body have not been without answer. Blessed be God! Glory be to His
rich mercy in Christ, I live yet _the life of faith_; as to my body, I
recover some strength. God bless you all, with all the blessings
brought to the Church by Christ Jesus, and by the other Comforter! My
love to the preachers” (John Murlin and Robert Roberts), “whom I beg
you will thank in my name.”[444]

Footnote 444:

Letters, 1791, p. 45.

Two months later (September 15), he wrote to his friend Thomas York:—

“Blessed be the God of all consolation, though I have still very
trying and feverish nights, I am kept in peace of mind; resigned to
His will, who afflicts me for my good, and justly sets me aside for my
unprofitableness. His grace within, and His people without, turn my
trying circumstances into matter of praise. Give my love to all your
dear family; to the two or three who may yet remember me at Shiffnal;
and, also, to Daniel, and desire him, when he gathers the Easter dues,
to give my love and thanks to _all_ my parishioners.“[445]

Footnote 445:

_Ibid_, p. 45.

No doubt Fletcher’s statement to Mr. York, respecting himself, was strictly true; but, still, there must have been a considerable improvement in his health since he left England. Hence the following interesting letter, written to Mr. Ireland only ten days later:—

“NYON, _September 25, 1778_.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,—I am just returned from an excursion I have made with
my brother, through the fine vale in the midst of the high hills which
divide France from this country. In that vale we found three lakes,
one on French ground, and two on Swiss: the largest is six miles long
and two wide. It is the part of the country where industry is most
apparent, and where population thrives best. The inhabitants are
chiefly woodmen, coopers, watchmakers, and jewellers. They told me,
they had the best singing, and the best preacher, in the country. I
asked, if any sinners were converted under his ministry? They stared,
and asked, what I meant by conversion? When I had explained myself,
they said, ‘We do not live in the time of miracles.’

“I was better satisfied in passing through a part of the vale which
belongs to the King of France. I saw a prodigious concourse of people,
and supposed they kept a fair, but was agreeably surprised to find
three missionaries in the midst of them, who went about as itinerant
preachers to help the regular clergy. They had been there some days,
and were three brothers, and preached morning and evening. The evening
service opened with what they called _a conference_. One of the
missionaries took the pulpit, and the parish priest proposed questions
to him, which he answered at full length and in a very edifying
manner. The subject was the unlawfulness and the mischief of those
methods by which persons of different sexes lay snares for each other,
and corrupt each other’s morals. The subject was treated with
delicacy, propriety, and truth. The method was admirably well
calculated to draw and fix the attention of a mixed multitude. This
_conference_ being ended, another missionary took the pulpit. His text
was our Lord’s description of the day of judgment. Before the sermon,
all those who, for the press, could kneel, did, and sang a French hymn
to beg a blessing on the word; and indeed it was blessed. An awful
attention was visible upon most, and, during a good part of the
discourse, the voice of the preacher was almost lost in the cries and
bitter wailings of the audience. When the outcry began, the preacher
was describing the departure of the wicked into eternal fire. They
urged that God was merciful, and that Jesus Christ had shed His blood
for them. ‘But that mercy you have slighted, and now is the time of
justice. That blood you have trodden under foot, and now it cries for
vengeance. Know your day. Slight the Father’s mercy and the Son’s
blood no longer.’ I have seen but once or twice congregations as much
affected in England.

“One of our ministers being ill, I ventured, a second time, into the
pulpit last Sunday; and, the Sunday before, I preached, six miles off,
to two thousand people in the yard of a jail, where they were come to
see a murderer before his execution. I was a little abused by the
bailiff on the occasion, and was refused the liberty of attending the
poor man to the scaffold, where he was to be broken on the wheel. I
hope he died penitent. The day before he suffered, he said he had
broken his irons, and that, as he deserved to die, he desired new ones
to be put on, lest he should be tempted to make his escape.

“You ask, what I design to do? I propose, if it be the Lord’s will, to
spend the winter here. In the spring, I shall, if nothing prevents,
return to England with you, or with Mr. Perronet, if his affairs are
settled, or alone, if other ways fail. In the meanwhile, I rejoice
with you in Jesus, and in the glorious hope of that complete salvation
His faithfulness has promised, and His power can never be at a loss to
bestow. We must be saved by faith and hope till we are saved by
perfect love, and made partakers of heavenly glory. I am truly a
_stranger_ here. As strangers let us go where we shall meet the
assembly of the righteous gathered in Jesus.“[446]

Footnote 446:

Letters, 1791, p. 268.

Mr. William Perronet arrived at Nyon in the month of December, and, in letters to his father, related:—

“However engaged Mr. Fletcher is the greater part of the day, he is
generally so kind as to spend a little time with me in the evening in
prayer and conversation. His chief delight seems to be in meeting his
little society of children. He is exceedingly fond of them, and they
appear to be as fond of him. He seldom walks abroad or rides out, but
some of them follow him, singing the hymns they have learned, and
conversing with him by the way. But you must not suppose that he is
permitted to enjoy this happiness unmolested. Not only do the
drunkards make songs on him and his little companions, but many of the
clergy loudly complain of such irregular proceedings. However, he is
upon good terms with three ministers of the place; all of whom are
serious men, and desirous of promoting true religion.

“He is better, I think, than when he left England; but he frequently
puts his strength to too severe a trial, by meeting his Society of
children, and some grown persons; and other exercises of a like
nature. When he ventures to preach, his spitting of blood returns; and
whenever this happens, his strength and spirits decay
surprisingly.”[447]

Footnote 447:

Benson’s “Life of Fletcher”.

Fletcher and his brother translated all the papers of William Perronet into French, and, in other ways, assisted him, in reference to the estate which he had gone to Switzerland to obtain. Notwithstanding the delicate state of Fletcher’s health, the three set out, in the wintry weather of that December month, to visit Chateau d’Oex, where the property was situated. The distance from Nyon was fifty-seven miles. When they had made about a quarter of the journey, “the horses were tired out, the coachman refused to proceed further,” and they were obliged to return home again.[448] A few days later, they made another attempt, and arrived at their destination on January 10, 1779. Five days afterwards, they were again at Nyon.

Footnote 448:

_Ibid._

In Fletcher’s state of health, such a journey was perilous; but his love to the Perronet family was such that, to him, no labour and risk, on their behalf, were too great. In letters to his venerable father, at Shoreham, William Perronet states, that none of them having been to Chateau d’Oex before, they were obliged to employ a guide, and that “on account of the badness of the ways,” they had “to go some leagues about,” which made their journey about eighty miles. Their coach had to pass “over mountains of snow and rocks of ice.” When nine miles from Chateau d’Oex, they were obliged to exchange their coach for “an open sledge;” and now they “travelled through narrow passes, cut through the snow, which, on both sides, was many feet above their heads; on the sides of mountains, whose summits the eye could scarcely reach; and frequently on the brink of precipices, at the bottoms of which they could hear the waters roar like thunder.” In one place, Fletcher and William Perronet, being obliged to walk, their feet slipped: Fletcher “received a violent blow on the back part of the head;” and William Perronet “sprained” his “wrist.” In crossing the Alps, they had to lie “two nights in beds that were not only damp, but musty and without curtains;” and, “being in a Popish canton, and Friday and Saturday being meagre days,” they “were almost starved with hunger as well as cold.” “The weather was extremely severe, and it was scarce in the power of clothes, or even of fire, to keep” them “warm.” William Perronet concludes his narrative of their adventures as follows:—

“Whether I succeed in my temporal business or not, I shall ever
remember, with pleasure and thankfulness, the opportunities I have
been blessed with in spending so much time in company with our
inestimable friend; who, wherever he goes, preaches the Gospel, both
by his words and example; nay, by his very looks, not only to his
friends, but to all whom he meets: so that, on the top of the frozen
Alps, and in the dreary vale of Chateau d’Oex, good seed has been
sown. At Chateau d’Oex, he was visited by some of the principal
inhabitants, who stood around him, in deep attention, for almost an
hour, while he exhorted and prayed.”[449]

Footnote 449:

Benson’s “Life of Fletcher.”

In a postscript to this letter, Fletcher wrote:—

“I have had the pleasure of accompanying your son to your father’s
birthplace. It is a charming country for those who have a taste for
highland prospects; but what is it to our heavenly Father’s _Hill of
Sion_? Thither may we all travel, summer and winter, and there may we
all have a happy meeting, and find an eternal inheritance!”

Three weeks later, Fletcher wrote the following to Mr. Ireland:—

“NYON, _February 2, 1779_.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,—I am sorry to hear that you are still tried by
illness; but our good, heavenly Father is wise; His will be done; His
name be praised!