Chapter III (2)

“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.