FLETCHER began the year 1766 in mournfulness, and yet full of love and loyalty to Christ. In a letter to Miss Hatton, he wrote:—
“Madam,—This evening I have buried one of the warmest opposers of my ministry—a stout, strong young man, aged twenty-four years. About three months ago, he came to the churchyard with a corpse, but refused to come into the church. When the burial was over, I went to him, and mildly expostulated with him. His constant answer was, that he had bound himself never to come to church while I was there; adding, that he would take the consequences. Seeing I got nothing, I left him, saying, with uncommon warmth, though, as far as I can remember, without the least touch of resentment, ‘I am clear of your blood; henceforth it is upon your own head; you will not come to church upon your legs, prepare to come upon your neighbours’ shoulders!’ He wasted from that time, and, to my great surprise, has been buried on the spot where we were when the conversation passed between us. When I visited him in his sickness, he seemed tame, as a wolf in a trap. O may God have turned him into a sheep in his last hours!
“This last year has been the worst I have had here,—barren in convictions, fruitful in backslidings.
“I have filled my page, but not with the name of Jesus. Let your heart contain what my letter wants,—Jesus and His precious blood,—Jesus and His free, glorious salvation. Live to Him; breathe for Him; buy, sell, eat, drink, read, write for Him. Receive Him as yours altogether, and give Him your whole self. Take us, Lord, into Thy gracious favour; stamp us with Thy glorious image, and conduct us to Thy eternal kingdom!”[123]
Fletcher was depressed. His labours at Madeley, during the past year, had not been fruitful; and concerning his success even at Bath he was doubtful. Mr. Brown, his temporary curate, however, seems to have been useful; and so also were Wesley’s itinerant evangelists; on account of which he thankfully rejoiced. In another letter to Miss Hatton, he wrote:—
“The coming of Mr. Wesley’s preachers into my parish gives me no uneasiness. As I am sensible that everybody does better, and is more acceptable than myself, I should be sorry to deprive any one of a blessing; and I rejoice that the work of God goes on, by any instrument, or in any place. How far it might have been expedient to have postponed preaching regularly in my parish, till the minister of —— had been reconciled to the invasion of his; and how far this might have made my way smoother, I do not pretend to determine: time will show it, and in the meanwhile I find it good to have faith in Providence.
“I fear I have left as great a stink at Bath as Mr. Brown a sweet savour here. Everything is good to me that shows me my unprofitableness; but I desire to grieve, that the good of my private humiliation is so much overbalanced by the loss of many about me.”[124]
Thus did Fletcher depreciate himself. The truth is, he was in feeble health, and hardly knew it. At this time, also, two of his dear friends were dying—Miss Hatton, of Wem, and Miss Ireland, the only daughter of James Ireland, Esq., of Brislington, Bristol. Miss Hatton had been at Madeley, and Miss Ireland was about to migrate to the south of France. To these ladies, he wrote as follows:—
“My Dear Friend,—I am much concerned to hear, by Mrs. Tower, that you are so weak; but my concern has greatly increased, since I was told that the foundation of your illness was laid at Madeley; and, I am afraid, by my imprudence in taking you to the woman with whom we received the sacrament. I ask God’s pardon and yours for it; and I hope it will be the means of humbling me, and of making me more tender of my friends.
“The advice you give me about my health is seasonable. I hope to follow it. I am not conscious of having neglected it; but I will endeavour that there be not so much as the shadow of a call for repeating it.
“If the air at Wem does not agree with you, could you not come to Madeley? Though I am no nurse, and though I have been the contrary of one to you, I hope we should wait upon you with more tenderness than when you were here last. Mrs. Power would nurse you, and I would talk to you of the love of Jesus as well as I could. You know I perceived your bodily weakness when you were here, and charged you with a neglect of your body. If I was right, I hope you will follow the advice you give me.
“Offer yourself to God for life or death, for ease or pain, for strength or weakness. Let Him choose or refuse for you; only do you choose Him for your present and eternal portion.”[125]
Seven months after this, Miss Hatton peacefully expired.[126] Miss Ireland lived more than two years longer. To her, he wrote the following:—
“My very dear Friend,—The poor account your father has brought us of your health, and his apprehensions of not seeing you any more, before that solemn day when all people, nations, and tongues shall stand together at the bar of God, make me venture to send you a few lines.
“First, then, my dear friend, let me beseech you not to flatter yourself with the hopes of living long here on earth. These hopes fill us with worldly thoughts, and make us backward to prepare for our change. I would not, for the world, entertain such thoughts about myself. I have now, in my parish, a young man who has been two years under the surgeon’s hands. Since he was given up, about two months ago, he has fled to the Lord, and has found in Him that saving health, which a thousand times surpasses that with which the surgeon flattered him; and he now longs to be with Christ, which is far better.
“Secondly. Consider, my dear, how good the Lord is to call you to be transplanted into a better world, before you have taken deeper root in this sinful world. If it is hard to nature to die now, how much harder would it be if you lived to be the mother of a family, and to cleave to earth by the ties of new relations, schemes of gain, or prospects of success!
“Thirdly. Reflect that, by your illness, the Lord, who forecasts for us, intimates that long life would not be for His glory, nor your happiness. I believe He takes many young people from the evil to come, and out of the way of those temptations, or misfortunes, which would have made them miserable in time and in eternity.
“Fourthly. Your earthly father loves you much: witness the hundreds of miles he has gone for the benefit of your health; but your heavenly Father loves you a thousand times better; and He is all wisdom, as well as all goodness. Allow, then, such a loving, gracious Father to chose for you; and, if He chooses death, acquiesce, and say, ‘Good is the will of the Lord! His choice must be best!’
“Fifthly. Weigh the sinfulness of sin, both original and actual, and firmly believe the wages of sin is death. This will make you patiently accept the punishment; especially if you consider that Jesus Christ, by dying for us, has taken away the sting of death, and turned the grave into a passage to a blessed eternity.
“Sixthly. Try to get nearer to the dear Redeemer. He offers rest to the heavy laden, pardon to the guilty, strength to the feeble, and life to the dead.
“Seventhly. When you have considered your lost state, as a sinner, together with the greatness, the freeness, and the suitableness of Christ’s salvation, believe in Him. Be not afraid to venture upon and trust in Him. Cast yourself on Him by frequent acts of reliance, and stay your soul on Him by means of His promises. Pray much for faith, and be not afraid of accepting, using, and thanking God for a little.
“Eighthly. Beware of impatience, repining, and peevishness, which are the sins of sick people. Be gentle, easy to be pleased, and resigned as the bleeding Lamb of God. Wrong tempers indulged, grieve, if they do not quench, the Spirit.
“Ninthly. Do not repine at being in a strange country, far from your friends; and, if your going to France does not answer the end proposed for your body, it will answer a spiritual end to your soul.
“Tenthly. In praying, reading, hearing any person read, and meditating, do not consult feeble, fainting, weary flesh and blood; for, at this rate, death may find you idle, and supine, instead of striving to enter in at the strait gate; and, when your strength and vigour fail, remember that the Lord is the strength of your life and your portion for ever.”[127]
Not many even faithful ministers of Christ would have written in such a strain as this to a young lady, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, leaving her native land, and apparently dying; but Fletcher, like all the first Methodists, was intensely in earnest, and never thought of sacrificing fidelity for the sake of seeming courtesy.
The young lady’s father had given Fletcher a hamper of wine, and a parcel of broadcloth to be made into a suit of clothes, kindly requesting him not to send his coat again to be patched. In acknowledging this generous present, the needy and somewhat seedy Vicar wrote as follows:—
“My very dear Friend,—You should have a little mercy on your friends, in not loading them with such burdens of beneficence. How would you like to be loaded with kindnesses you could not return? Were it not for a little of that grace which makes us not only willing, but happy to be nothing, to be obliged and dependent, your present would make me quite miserable. I submit to be clothed and nourished by you, as your servants are, without the happiness of serving you. To yield to this is as hard to friendship as it is to submit to be saved by free grace, without one scrap of our own righteousness. However, we are allowed, both in religion and friendship, to ease ourselves by thanks and prayers, till we have an opportunity of doing it by actions. I thank you then, my dear friend, and pray to God that you may receive His benefits as I do yours.
“Your broadcloth can lap me round two or three times; but the mantle of Divine love, the precious fine robe of Jesus’s righteousness, can cover your soul a thousand times. The cloth, fine and good as it is, will not keep out a hard shower; but that garment of salvation will keep out even a shower of brimstone and fire. Your cloth will wear out; but that fine linen, the righteousness of saints, will appear with a finer lustre the more it is worn. The moth may fret your present, or the tailor may spoil it in cutting it; but the present, which Jesus has made you, is out of the reach of the spoiler, and ready for present wear. Let me beseech you, my dear friend, to accept of this heavenly present, as I accept of your earthly one. I did not send you one farthing to purchase it: it came unsought, unasked, unexpected, as the seed of the woman came. It came just as I was sending a tailor to buy me cloth for a new coat, and I hope when you next see me, it will be in your present; now let Jesus see you in His. Accept it freely. Wear no more the old rusty coat of nature and self-righteousness. Send no more to have it patched. Make your boast of an unbought suit, and love to wear the livery of Jesus.
“You will then love His work. It will be your meat and drink to do it; and, that you may be vigorous in doing it, as I shall take a little of your wine for my stomach’s sake, take you a good deal of the wine of the kingdom for your soul’s sake. Every promise of the Gospel is a bottle, a cask that has a spring within, and can never be exhausted. Draw the cork of unbelief, and drink abundantly. Be not afraid of intoxication; and if an inflammation follows, it will only be that of Divine love. Be more free with the heavenly wine, than I have been with the earthly, which you sent me. I have not tasted it yet, but whose fault is it? Not yours certainly, but mine. If you do not drink daily out of the cup of salvation, whose fault is it? Not Jesus’s, but yours. Jesus gives you His righteousness to cover your nakedness, and the consolations of His Spirit to cheer and invigorate your soul. Accept and use. Wear, drink, and live to God.”[128]
Fletcher was religious in everything, and all his faculties were sanctified. He could not even acknowledge the kindness of his friend without introducing religion; but, to do this gracefully, he exercises, not his manly understanding, but his sportive fancy. “Fancy,” said fanciful Thomas Fuller, “can adorn whatever it touches, can invest naked fact and dry reasoning with unlooked-for beauty, make flowerets bloom even on the brow of a precipice, and, when nothing better can be had, can turn the very substance of the rock itself into moss and lichens.” Few men have possessed a finer fancy than Fletcher did; but his was rarely used except for religious purposes. He might have been an accomplished allegorist; but he preferred to be a scriptural reasoner. His creed was founded, not upon fancies, but upon facts. Hence, in the same month that he wrote the foregoing letter to Mr. Ireland, he wrote as follows to Miss Hatton:—
“Let your faith be rational as well as affectionate. God is good. He does not want us to take His word without proof. What expectations of the Messiah from the beginning of the world! What amazing miracles and wonders were wrought in favour of that people and family, from which He was to come! What prophecies fulfilled, that we might rationally believe! What displays of the Godhead in that heavenly man, Christ Jesus! In Him dwelt, of a truth, the fulness of the Godhead bodily. You see the power of God in His miracles; the goodness of God in His character; the justice and mercy of God in His death; the truth, and faithfulness, and glory of God in His resurrection, in the coming of His Spirit, and in the preaching of His everlasting Gospel. O, my friend, we may believe rationally. We may, with calm attention, view the emptiness of all other religions, and the fulness of assurance that ours affords.”[129]
Soon after the date of this letter, Fletcher proceeded to London, to Brighton, and to Oathall, where he had sweet intercourse with the Countess of Huntingdon, Romaine, Venn, Sir Charles Hotham, and with a gentleman and lady from his own country, who were visiting the Countess, and Mr. and Mrs. Powys of Berwick, in Shropshire, Mr. Powys being a gentleman of high connections and of large fortune, and who had, about this period, become conspicuous, in conjunction with Sir Richard Hill and Mr. Lee, of Cotery, for zeal in the cause of God and truth.[130]
While staying with Lady Huntingdon at Oathall, Fletcher wrote another pastoral letter, which could not have been more faithful, but might, perhaps with advantage, have been more gentle.
“To those who love or fear the Lord Jesus at Madeley, grace, peace, and love be multiplied unto you, from our God and Saviour Jesus Christ!
“Providence, my dear brethren, called me so suddenly from among you, that I had no time to take my leave of you, and recommend myself to your prayers. But I hope the good Spirit of our God, who is the Spirit of love and supplication, has brought me to your remembrance, as the poorest and weakest of Christ’s ministers, whose hands stand most in need of being strengthened and lifted up by your prayers. Pray on then, for yourselves, for one another, and for him whose glory it is to minister to you in spiritual things, and whose sorrow it is not to do it in a manner more suitable to the majesty of the Gospel, and more profitable to your souls. My heart is with you, nevertheless I bear patiently this bodily separation for three reasons.
“1. The variety of more faithful and able ministers, which you have during my absence, is more likely to be serviceable to you than my presence among you, and I would always prefer your profit to my own satisfaction.
“2. I hope Providence will give me those opportunities of conversing and praying with a greater variety of experienced Christians, which will tend to my own improvement, and, I trust, in the end, to yours.
“3. I flatter myself that, after some weeks’ absence, my ministry will be recommended by the advantage of novelty, which (the more the pity) goes farther with some than the Word itself. In the meantime, I shall give you some advice, which, it may be, will prove both suitable and serviceable to you.
“Endeavour to improve daily under the ministry that Providence blesses you with. Be careful to attend it with diligence, faith, and prayer. Would it not be a great shame if, when ministers come thirty or forty miles to offer you peace and pardon, strength and comfort, in the name of God, any of you should slight the glorious message, or hear it as if it was nothing to you, and as if you heard it not? See then that you never come from a sermon without being more deeply convinced of sin and righteousness. In order to this,—
“Use much prayer before you go to church. Consider that your next appearance there may be in a coffin, and entreat the Lord to give you now so to hunger and thirst after righteousness that you may be filled therewith. Hungry people never go fasting from a feast. Call to mind the text I preached from the last Sunday but one before I left you,—‘Wherefore, laying aside all malice, and all guile, and hypocrisies, and envies, and all evil speakings, as new born babes desire the sincere milk of the Word, that ye may grow thereby’ (1 Peter ii. 1, 2).
“When you are under the Word, beware of sitting as judges, and not like criminals. Many judge of the manner, matter, voice, or person of the preacher. You, perhaps, judge all the congregation when you should judge yourselves guilty of eternal death and yet worthy of eternal life, through the worthiness of Him who stood and was condemned at Pilate’s bar for you. The moment you have done crying to God as guilty, or thanking Christ as reprieved, criminals, you have reason to believe that this advice is levelled at you.
“When you have been at a means of grace and do not find yourselves sensibly quickened, let it be matter of deep humiliation to you. For want of repenting of their unbelief and hardness of heart, some get into a habit of deadness and indolence, so that they come to be as insensible and as little ashamed of themselves as stones.
“Beware of the inconsistent behaviour of those who complain that they are full of wandering in the evening under the Word when they have suffered their minds to wander from Christ all the day long. Oh! get acquainted with Him, that you may walk in Him and with Him. Whatsoever you do or say, especially in the things of God, do or say it as if Christ was before, behind, and on each side of you. Indeed, He is so, whether you consider it or not; for when He visibly appeared on earth, He called Himself ‘the Son of Man which is in heaven;’ how much more then is He present on earth now that He makes His immediate appearance in heaven? Make conscience then to maintain a sense of His blessed presence all the day long, and all the day long you will have a continual feast. For, can you conceive anything more delightful than to be always at the fountain of love, peace, beauty, and joy,—at the spring of power, wisdom, goodness, and truth? Can there be a purer and more melting happiness than to be with the best of fathers, the kindest of brothers, the most generous of benefactors, and the tenderest of husbands? Now Jesus is all this and much more to the believing soul. Oh! believe, my friends, believe in Jesus now, through a continual now; and until you can thus believe, mourn over your unbelieving heart; drag it to Him as you can; think of the efficacy of His blood shed for the ungodly; and wait for the Spirit of faith from on high.
“Some of you wonder why you cannot believe, why you cannot see Jesus with the eye of your mind, and delight in Him with the affections of your heart. I apprehend the reason to be one of these, or perhaps altogether.
“1. You are not poor, lost, undone, helpless, despairing sinners in yourselves. You indulge spiritual and refined self-righteousness; you are not yet dead to the law, and quite slain by the commandment. Now the kingdom of heaven belongs to none but the poor in spirit. Jesus came to save none but the lost. What wonder then, if Jesus is little to you, and if you do not live in His kingdom of peace, righteousness, and joy in the Holy Ghost?
“2. Perhaps you spend your time in curious reasonings, instead of casting yourselves as forlorn sinners at the feet of Christ, leaving it to Him to bless you when and in the manner He pleases. Know that He is the wise and sovereign God, and that it is your duty to lie before Him as clay, as fools, as sinful nothings.
“3. Perhaps, also, some of you wilfully keep idols of one kind or another; you indulge some sin against light and knowledge, and it is neither matter of humiliation, nor of confession to you. The love of praise, that of the world, that of money, and that of sensual gratifications, when not lamented, are as implacable enemies to Christ as Judas and Herod were. How can ye believe, seeing ye seek the honour that cometh from men? Hew then your Agags in pieces before the Lord. Run from your Delilahs to Jesus resolutely. Cut off the right hand and pluck out the right eye that offends you. ‘Come out from among them, and be separate, saith the Lord, and I will receive you.’ Nevertheless, when you strive, take care not to make yourself a righteousness of your own striving. Remember that justifying righteousness is finished and brought in, and that your goodness can no more add to it than your sins diminish it. Shout then, ‘the Lord your Righteousness!’ And, if you are undone sinners, humbly and yet boldly say, ‘In the Lord have I righteousness and strength.’
“When I was in London, I endeavoured to make the best of my time; that is to say, to hear, receive, and practise the Word. Accordingly, I went to Mr. Whitefield’s Tabernacle, and heard him give his Society a most sweet exhortation upon love. He began by observing that when the Apostle St. John was old and past walking and preaching, he would not forsake the assembling himself with his brethren, as the manner of too many is, upon little or no pretence at all. On the contrary, he got himself carried to their meeting, and, with his last thread of voice, preached to them his final sermon made up of this one sentence, ‘My little children, love one another.’ I wish, I pray, I earnestly beseech you to follow that evangelical, apostolical advice; and till God makes you all little children, little in your own eyes, and simple as little children, give me leave to say, dear brethren, love one another, and, of course, judge not, provoke not, be not shy of one another, but bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ. Yea, bear with one another’s infirmities, and do not easily cast off any one, no not for sin, except it be obstinately persisted in.
“My sheet is full, and so is my heart of good wishes for and strong longing after you all. I have just room to tell you I hope to be with you in three or four weeks’ time. Oh! let me have the comfort of finding you all believing and loving. Farewell, my dear brethren! The blessing of God be with you all! This is the earnest desire of
This is a long but valuable letter—valuable for the sentiments and advice it contains, and also as showing Fletcher’s loving and faithful passion to save the souls of his parishioners. Comment upon it would be easy, but is unnecessary. When he wrote it, on September 23, he intended to return to Madeley in “three or four weeks’ time,” but at the beginning of November he was still in London. In a letter to Mr. Powys, dated the first of that month, Whitefield remarked, “Dear Mr. Fletcher is become a scandalous Tottenham Court preacher.”[132] How long he continued to officiate in Whitefield’s far-famed chapel it is impossible to tell; but at the beginning of 1767 he was at Madeley, and wrote to Miss Hatton as follows:—
“My Dear Friend,—The dream of life will soon be over; the morning of eternity will soon succeed. Away then with all the shadows of time! Away from them to the Eternal Substance—to Jesus, the First and the Last, by whom, and for whom, all things consist. If you take Jesus to be your head, by the mystery of faith, you will be united to the resurrection and the life. The bitterness of death is past, my dear friend. Only look to Jesus. He died for you—died in your place—died under the frowns of heaven, that we might die under its smiles. Regard neither unbelief nor doubt. Fear neither sin nor hell. Choose neither life nor death. All these are swallowed up in the immensity of Christ, and are triumphed over in His cross. Fight the good fight of faith. Hold fast your confidence in the atoning, sanctifying blood of the Lamb of God. Confer no more with flesh and blood. Go, meet the bridegroom. Behold He cometh! Trim your lamp. Quit yourself like a soldier of Jesus. I entreat you, as a companion in tribulation; I charge you, as a minister, go, at every breath you draw, to Him, who says, ‘Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out:’ and ‘He that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.’ Joyfully sing the believer’s song, ‘O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ!’ Let your surviving friends triumph over you, as one faithful unto death,—as one triumphing in death itself.”[133]
Three weeks after this, the Christian lady thus addressed was dead.[134] Fletcher, in a letter to Mr. Ireland, wrote:—
“Poor Miss Hatton died full of serenity, faith, and love. The four last hours of her life were better than all her sickness. When the pangs of death were upon her, the comforts of the Almighty bore her triumphantly through, and some of her last words were: ‘Grieve not at my happiness. This world is no more to me than a bit of burnt paper. Grace! Grace! A sinner saved! I wish I could tell you half of what I feel and see. I am going to keep an everlasting Sabbath. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be to God, who giveth me the victory, through my Lord Jesus Christ!’ It is very remarkable that she had hardly any joy in her illness; but God made her ample amends in her extremity. He keeps His strongest cordial for the time of need. Blessed, for ever blessed, be His holy name!”[135]
As already stated, Fletcher, when in London, had preached in Tottenham Court Road Chapel. Whitefield wrote a letter, thanking him for his services. Fletcher’s highly characteristic reply was as follows:—
“Rev. and Dear Sir,—I am confounded when I receive a letter from you. Present and eternal contempt from Christ and all His members is what I deserve. A sentence of death is my due; but, instead of it, I am favoured with lines of love. Your mentioning my poor ministrations among your congregation opens again a wound of shame, that was but half healed. I feel the need of asking God, you, and your hearers to pardon me, for weakening the glorious matter of the Gospel by my wretched broken manner, and for spoiling the heavenly power of it by the uncleanness of my heart and lips.
“I should be glad to be your curate some time this year; but I see no opening, nor the least prospect of any. What between the dead and living, a parish ties one down more than a wife. If I could go anywhere this year, it should be to Yorkshire, to accompany Lady Huntingdon, according to a design that I had half formed last year; but I fear I shall be debarred even from this. I set out, God willing, to-morrow morning for Trevecca, to meet her ladyship there, and to show her the way to Madeley, where she proposes to stay three or four days, on her way to Derbyshire.
“Last Sunday seven-night, Captain Scott preached to my congregation a sermon, which was more blessed, though preached only upon my horse-block, than a hundred of those I preach in the pulpit. I invited him to come and treat her ladyship next Sunday with another, now the place is consecrated. If you should ever favour Shropshire with your presence, you shall have the captain’s, or the parson’s, pulpit at your option. Many ask me, whether you will not come to have some fruit here also. What must I answer them? I, and many more, complain of a stagnation of the work. What must we do? Everything buds and blossoms about us, yet our winter is not over.
“Present my Christian respects to Mrs. Whitefield, Mr. Hardy, Mr. Keen, Mr. Joyce, Mr. Croom, and Mr. Wright. Tell Mr. Keen I am a letter in his debt, and postpone writing it till I have had such a sight of Christ as to breathe His love through every line.
“I am, rev. and dear Sir, with sincere affection and respect, your willing, though halting and unworthy servant,
Captain Scott, the martial evangelist, mentioned in this letter, was a Shropshire man, and belonged to an ancient and respectable family. He had begun his military life as a cornet, and had been promoted to the rank of captain in the 7th regiment of dragoons. A short time before his first visit to Madeley, Fletcher, in a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, remarked:—
“I went last Monday to meet Captain Scott, one of the fruits that have grown for the Lord at Oathall,—a captain of a truth—a bold soldier of Christ. God has thrown down before him the middle wall of bigotry, and he boldly launches into an irregular usefulness. For some months, he has exhorted his dragoons daily; and, for some weeks, he has preached publicly in the Methodist Meeting House, in his regimentals, to numerous congregations, with good success. The stiff regular ones pursue him with hue and cry; but, I believe, he is quite beyond their reach. God keep him zealous and simple! I believe this red coat will shame many a black one. I am sure he shames me.”[137]
In the year 1767, the Countess of Huntingdon was much occupied in making preparations for the opening of her college at Trevecca, in Wales. From the commencement of this important project, Fletcher was one of her ladyship’s chosen advisers. In the month of April, he met her at Trevecca, and escorted her to Madeley, where she spent several days on her way to Yorkshire. The visit was a memorable one. Her ladyship was accompanied by Lady Anne Erskine and Miss Orton. The rich Christian communion of these three noble ladies with the poor vicar may be imagined, but cannot be described. It was, probably, at this period that the Countess was led to think of Fletcher as the future president of her college. At all events, in the following year, he was appointed to that important office.[138]
Captain Scott also was at Madeley, and though Fletcher, of course, could not allow him the use of the pulpit of the parish church, he had him mounted upon the horse-block of the parish parsonage, where he preached twice, on Sunday, to large congregations; and on the day following, in Madeley Wood, an immense concourse of people assembled to hear him, many of whom were drawn thither by curiosity, to see the famous Countess and the preaching soldier.
Up to the time of the Countess’s visit, Fletcher was in doubt whether he would be able to attend her in Yorkshire, but, before she left Madeley Vicarage, it was arranged that he should follow her immediately after Whit-Sunday. Mr. Ireland wished him to visit Bristol, and certainly he had some claim upon him; for, to say nothing of the valuable presents he had sent, for the use of Fletcher and the poor of Madeley, he had secured for them a most acceptable curate, to serve the parish during Fletcher’s absence. Fletcher, for the present, was obliged to decline his friend’s invitation. Hence the following letter to him:—
“My Very Dear Friend,—I have just received your letter, upon my arrival from Wales with dear Lady Huntingdon, who is, of a truth, a tried stone, built upon the corner stone, and such as you have seen her, such, I am persuaded, you will find her to the last,—a soul devoted to Jesus, living by faith, going to Christ Himself by the Scriptures, instead of resting in the letter of the Gospel promises, as too many professors do.
“I thank you for your care to procure not only a supply for my church, but such an agreeable, acceptable, and profitable one as Mr. Brown. I know no one that should be more welcome than he. Tell him, with a thousand thanks for his condescension, that I deliver my charge over to him fully, and give him a carte blanche, to do or not to do, as the Lord will direct him. I have settled it, that I shall endeavour to overtake my lady at Kippax, in Yorkshire, against the Sunday after Whitsuntide.
“With regard to the Bristol journey, I must first come from the north, before I dream of going to the south. God help us to steer immovably to the grand point of our salvation,—Jesus, the Crucified! To Him I recommend myself, and you, and my noble guests. Love Him,—praise Him,—serve Him, who hath loved you, bought you, and died for you.”[139]
In the year 1767, Whit-Sunday occurred on June 7, and, during the week following, Fletcher joined the Countess of Huntingdon at Huddersfield, where her ladyship was staying, for a few days, with Venn, at the vicarage. On Sunday, the 14th, he preached twice in Venn’s church, to large and deeply attentive congregations. He then accompanied the Countess to Aberford, on a visit to Benjamin Ingham, who had married her niece, Lady Margaret Hastings. Whilst there, accompanied by the Rev. Joseph Townsend, Rector of Pewsey, in Wiltshire, who had preached at the opening of Lady Huntingdon’s chapel at Bath, in 1765, the whole family party at Aberford made an excursion to Haworth. Grimshaw, the brave-hearted incumbent, to whom Yorkshire Methodism owes so much, had died four years before, and had been succeeded by the Rev. Mr. Richardson, a good man, and evangelical in his principles, but averse to open-air preaching, in which his predecessor had delighted. The intended visit to Haworth having become known, and it being understood that Fletcher and Mr. Townsend would preach, an immense multitude of people assembled to hear them. Application was made for the use of what was called “Mr. Whitefield’s pulpit,” that is, a scaffold erected by the side of Haworth church, and from which Whitefield was wont to thunder his overwhelming sermons. Mr. Richardson refused the request. Lady Huntingdon remonstrated; and, though it is not stated that the scaffold was brought out, it is known that both Fletcher and Townsend preached in the churchyard.
On leaving Aberford, the Countess and her friends proceeded to Kippax, on a visit to her niece, Mrs. Medhurst. Here, at the beginning of July, they were joined by the Rev. Martin Madan; and now the village of Kippax became the centre of some of the most remarkable evangelistic efforts recorded in Methodistic annals. For some weeks, Fletcher, of Madeley; Madan, from London; Venn, Vicar of Huddersfield; Conyers, Rector of Helmsley; Burnet, Vicar of Elland; Ryland, Curate of Huddersfield; Bentley, Vicar of Kippax; and Powley, Vicar of Dewsbury, made frequent excursions not only in the immediate neighbourhood of Kippax, but to distant parts of the county, affectionately inviting the multitudes who flocked to hear them to flee from the wrath to come.[140] Unfortunately, the details of these missionary labours seem to be irrecoverably lost; and it can only be added that, in consequence of being seized with a rather alarming illness, the Countess of Huntingdon was not able to take part in many of the services. After Fletcher’s return to Madeley, he wrote to her ladyship as follows:—
“My Very Dear and Honoured Lady,—The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who tried Israel, and led them through many a wandering to the good land—this faithful God has met with you; a rod is in His hand, but that hand bears so deep a print of love, that the design of His visitation cannot be mistaken. Nor does He come without the supporting staff. He kills to make alive. He wounds to heal. He afflicts to comfort, and to do it more deeply and effectually. My hearty prayer for your ladyship is, that you may drink the cup the Lord holds out to you as a new token of His unchangeable love. I call it unchangeable, because it is really so in its nature, though the appearances of it greatly vary for the trial of faith. ‘I am God,’ says He; ‘I change not, therefore Israel is not consumed,’ and Shadrach is kept in the burning fiery furnace.
“I have often heard your ladyship speak admirably upon knowing Christ, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings. The Lord will have you improve in that heavenly knowledge; therefore He gives you so long a lesson at this time. The lesson is hard, I grant; but the Master is so loving, the science so noble, and the scholar so used to severe exercises, that it is no wonder you are placed on the highest form. No cross—no crown! The heavier the cross, the brighter the crown!
“Till I received Lady Anne’s letter, I often wanted to persuade myself that your ladyship had got quite well soon after I left Kippax. I beg my best respects and warmest thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Medhurst, Miss Medhurst, and the dear company of your ladyship. Their kindness and patience towards me while at Kippax have laid me under a heavy burden of obligations, which I desire gratefully to acknowledge.
“Through a mistake of our good friend Ireland, dear Mr. Glascott came here the day after I arrived from Yorkshire. He stayed only one day. This stripling will throw down Goliath. I blessed that cross and accident which brought me acquainted with a young soldier that made me so ashamed of myself. Mr. Hill[141] is gone to Brighton, where I hope he will be as useful as he is in Shropshire. Captain Scott set out last Monday for York, after making a great stir for good in Shrewsbury.
“I am loth to trouble Lady Anne with a request of a line, to know how your ladyship does, yet I know not well how to give up the hope that she will once more steal two minutes for it.
“I am, with peculiar thanks to Lady Anne for her letter, and to your ladyship for numberless favours, my lady, your most indebted and obliged servant,
No further reference to the illness of the Countess of Huntingdon is needed; but a few lines may be added concerning Mr. Glascott, whom Mr. Ireland had sent to Madeley to officiate during Fletcher’s supposed absence. This young clergyman had been ordained at Oxford in 1765. For two years, he had served the curacy of Cheveley, in Berkshire, and had been recently dismissed. He was now introduced to Lady Huntingdon, became her assistant chaplain, and laboured in her connexion till 1781. Mr. Ireland then presented him to the vicarage of Hatherleigh, in Devonshire. Here he prayed and preached for nearly fifty years; and here he died, in the full triumph of the faith of Christ, on the 18th of August, 1830.[143]
For years past, Fletcher and Whitefield had been sympathizing and warm-hearted friends, but, up to the present, Whitefield had not been to Madeley. After Fletcher’s departure from Yorkshire, Whitefield succeeded him in that county, and glorious were the seasons which Lady Huntingdon and the great evangelist enjoyed at Kippax, Huddersfield, Leeds, and other places. Fletcher urged Whitefield to call at Madeley on his way to what he called his “winter quarters” in London; but Whitefield found it impracticable to comply with his friend’s request.[144] Thus was lost an opportunity that did not recur. Whitefield never preached in Madeley church. He died in 1770.
The Countess of Huntingdon spent the winter of 1767 chiefly at Bath, and was in constant correspondence with Fletcher concerning her college at Trevecca. Her proposal was to admit no young men except such as were truly converted to God, and resolved to dedicate themselves to His service. All admitted might stay three years, and be clothed, boarded, lodged, and educated gratuitously. Afterwards, those who desired it might enter the Christian ministry, either in the Church of England or among Protestants of any other denomination. The scheme was generous, and as free from bigotry as it could be. Her ladyship had to select first of all a president, and her choice fell upon Fletcher. He accepted her invitation. It was impossible that he should be generally resident at Trevecca, much less constantly; his duty to his Madeley parishioners would not admit of this; but he promised to attend as often as he conveniently could; to give advice respecting the appointment of masters and the admission of students; to revise the studies and conduct of the latter, and to assist their piety, and judge of their qualifications for the work of the ministry. All this was to be done without any fee or reward whatever.
The plan for the examination of candidates for admission was drawn up by her ladyship. It was then submitted to Romaine, Venn, Wesley, and others, and received their approval. The Countess finally sent it to her president elect, who returned the following answer:—
“My Dear Lady,—I received the proposals which your ladyship has drawn up for the examination of the young men who may appear proper candidates for the Trevecca academy; and I gratefully acknowledge your kindness in allowing me to propose suitable young men resident in my parish.
“Our Israel is small, my lady, and if among six hundred thousand only two faithful men were found of old, the Joshuas and Calebs cannot be numerous among us. After having perused the articles, and looked round about me, I designed to answer your ladyship, ‘Out of this Galilee ariseth no prophet.’ With this resolution I went to bed, but, in my sleep, was much taken up with the thought and remembrance of one of my young colliers, who told me, some months ago, that for four years he had been inwardly persuaded he should be called to speak for God. I looked upon the unusual impression of my dream as a call to speak to the young man, and at waking desired to do so at the first opportunity. To my great surprise, he came to Madeley that very morning, and I found upon enquiry that he had been as much drawn to come as I to speak to him. This encouraged me to speak of your ladyship’s design, and I was satisfied by his conversation that I might venture to propose him to your ladyship for further examination.
“His name is James Glazebrook, collier and getter of ironstone in Madeley wood. He is now twenty-three—by look nineteen. He has been awakened seven years. He has been steady from the beginning of his profession, at least so far as to be kept outwardly unblameable, but has seemed to me to walk mostly in heaviness. What I told him was as oil put into a glimmering lamp, and he seems to revive upon hearing of the little outward call. Notwithstanding his strong desire to exhort, he has not yet attempted to do so; and his not being forward to run of himself, makes me have the better hope his call is from God. He has no mean gift in singing and prayer. His judgment and sense are superior to his station, and he does not seem to be discouraged by the severest part of your ladyship’s proposals. One difficulty stood in the way. He maintains by his labour his aged mother; but this is made easy by his mother’s leave, and the promise of an elder son to maintain her if he can have his brother’s place in the pit.
“With regard to the superintendency of the college, or the examination of the candidates, I know myself too well to dream about it; nevertheless, so far as my present calling and poor abilities will allow, I am ready to throw my mite into the treasury.
“Some of our conversations upon the manifestations of the Son of Man to the heart have led me into many an hour’s consideration. The Holy Ghost alone can clear up the points to pursue. Nevertheless, I have found both comfort and profit in setting upon paper the reflections I have been enabled to make upon the mysterious subject; and they have, through mercy, set my soul more than ever against the rampant errors of Sandemanianism. Should Providence ever favour me with an opportunity, I would bespeak an hour of your ladyship’s time to ratify my views of the point, under God.
“I am happily provided with a schoolmaster to my mind, and my ministry is the last under which I would advise any one intended for a preacher to sit. Nevertheless, if the young candidate, (Mr. Eastwood) mentioned in the letter, wants retirement and a prophet’s room at my house he may have it, if he can cook for himself or find a table in the neighbourhood.”[145]
There is only one other incident, in the life of Fletcher, deserving attention and belonging to the year 1767; and as it can be summarily dispatched, it may be best to mention it at once, before returning to two matters in his letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, which will require more extended notice.
On December 1, the tenth Earl of Buchan died at Bath, and was succeeded by his son, who appointed Fletcher, Venn, and Berridge to be his chaplains. In a letter to Lady Huntingdon, referring to the appointment, Fletcher wrote:—