Wesley's Designated Successor, by Luke Tyerman

“To Messrs. Hare, Terry, Fox, and Good, at Hull;—and Messrs. Preston, Simpson, and Ramsden, at York.

“London, November 12, 1776.

“My Dear Brethren,—I thank you for your kind letters and invitations to visit you, and the brethren about you. I have often found an attraction in Yorkshire. My desire was indeed a little selfish; I wanted to improve by the conversation of my unknown brethren. If God bids me be strong again, I shall be glad to try if He will be pleased to comfort us by the mutual faith both of you and me. My desire is, that Christ may be glorified both in my life and death. If I have any desire to live at any time, it is principally to be a witness, in word and deed, of the dispensation of power from on high; and to point out that kingdom which does not consist in word, but in power, even in righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of power. I am writing an Essay upon that important part of the Christian doctrine.

“Should I be spared to visit you, the keep of a horse, and the poor rider, will be all the burden I should lay on you; and that will be more than my Heavenly Master indulged Himself in. I am just setting out for Norwich with Mr. Wesley, whose renewed strength and immense labours astonish me. What a pattern for preachers! His redeeming the time is, if I mistake not, matchless.

“Should I never have the pleasure of thanking you in person for your brotherly regard, I beg you will endeavour to meet me in the kingdom of our Father, where distance of time and place is lost in the fulness of Him who is all in all. The way ye know,—the penitential way of a heart-felt faith working by obedient love.”^[383]

Early in the month of December, Fletcher visited Mr. Gorham, at St. Neots. One of his inducements to undertake this journey was to have an opportunity of conversing with Berridge, Vicar of Everton, and with Henry Venn, who, a few years before, had left Huddersfield, and settled in a small country village, as Rector of Yelling. Mr. Gorham’s son accompanied Fletcher to Everton. Sixteen years had elapsed since Fletcher’s former visit there; and, during that interval, Berridge had published his “Christian World Unmasked;” and Fletcher had severely handled its Calvinian doctrines in his “Fifth Check to Antinomianism;” but there was no room for malice in Christian hearts like theirs. The instant Fletcher entered the parsonage at Everton, Berridge rose up, ran to meet him, embraced him with folded arms, and cried, “My dear brother, how could we write against each other, when we both aim at the same thing—the glory of God, and the good of souls! My book lies quietly on the shelf,—and there let it lie.” For two hours, the loving polemics had an unbroken conversation; when Berridge said, “We must not part without praying.” Down they fell upon their knees. Full of the great truth then occupying his mind, and which probably had been the chief subject of conversation with his friend, Fletcher began to pray for an effusion of the Spirit, and for greater degrees of sanctification and usefulness. Berridge followed, with a prayer full of love and faith. The two seemed as if it were impossible to separate; and Fletcher had to be torn away, to keep an appointment, at St. Neots, with the Rector of Yelling. Venn was charmed with Fletcher, and became so absorbed in the conversation, that Fletcher had to remind him, playfully, of the meal before him. A year afterwards, they met again, at Bristol, lodged together for six weeks in the same house, and Venn, on his return to Yelling, declared, from his pulpit, that Fletcher was “like an angel on earth.”

Notwithstanding considerable opposition, Fletcher was permitted to preach once in St. Neots Church, and took, as his text, “We love Him, because He first loved us.” Many hung upon the lips of the preacher; but three or four of his hearers, in great dudgeon, left before his sermon was ended. “I will not be tedious,” cried Fletcher, as the discontented were retreating, “but oh that I might persuade you to love Him, who first loved us!” About thirty of his congregation followed him to his lodgings, where, at their request, he preached again, most of those that were present being powerfully affected.

Considering the state of his health, this preaching exercise was hardly prudent; but Fletcher had less regard for his health than for what he conceived to be his duty. The season was the depth of winter; but he maintained his accustomed early rising. One morning, before four o’clock, Mr. Gorham stole gently into his chamber, and kindled his fire. The crackling of the wood awoke him; and, instantly, showing the frame of mind in which he habitually lived, whether awake or asleep, he cried, “Is it you, my kind host, with your candle and fire? May the Lord light the candle of faith and the fire of love in our hearts!” When nearly fifty years had elapsed, Mr. Gorham said, “I have never forgotten this salutation; and often do I step into the room, and look at the spot where I received the dear saint’s thanks, and heard his prayer.”^[384]

At this time, there resided at the suburban village of Stoke Newington a gentleman who must have a brief notice. His father, James Greenwood, was one of the earliest members of the Methodist Society, at the Foundery, London; and he himself was one of the first trustees of Wesley’s chapel, in City Road. He had a lucrative business, as an upholsterer, in Rood Lane and Fenchurch Street; and died, at the age of fifty-six, in 1783, his remains being put into one of the early-dug graves in the burial ground of City Road Chapel.^[385] Wesley’s mention of his death is worth quoting:—

“1783, February 21.—To-day Charles Greenwood went to rest. He had been a melancholy man all his days, full of doubts and fears, and continually writing bitter things against himself. When he was first taken ill, he said he should die, and was miserable through fear of death; but, two days before he died, the clouds dispersed, and he was unspeakably happy, telling his friends, ‘God has revealed to me things which it is impossible for man to utter.’ Just when he died, such glory filled the room, that it seemed to be a little heaven; none could grieve or shed a tear, but all present appeared to be partakers of his joy.”^[386]

In the necrology of the Methodists, there are but few brighter death-bed scenes than that of Charles Greenwood, of Stoke Newington.^[387]

On his return from St. Neots, on December 16, Fletcher took up his residence in the house of this worthy man. Wesley disapproved of this, and wrote:—

“I verily believe, if Mr. Fletcher had travelled with me, partly in the chaise, and partly on horseback, only a few months longer, he would quite have recovered his health. But this those about him would not permit: so being detained in London by his kind but injudicious friends, while I pursued my journeys, his spitting of blood, with all the other symptoms, returned, and rapidly increased, till the physicians pronounced him to be far advanced in a true, pulmonary consumption.”^[388]

Fletcher continued to reside with Mr. Greenwood till about the beginning of the month of May, 1777; but, before proceeding to that year, extracts must be given from a remarkable letter, which he wrote “to the parishioners of Madeley.” This was one of his last efforts in the year 1776:—

“Newington, December 28, 1776.

“My Dear Parishioners,—I hoped to have spent the Christmas holidays with you, and to have ministered to you in holy things; but the weakness of my body confining me here, I humbly submit to the Divine dispensation. I ease the trouble of my absence by reflecting on the pleasure I have felt, in years past, while singing with you, ‘Unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given.’ This truth is as true now as it was then. Let us receive it with all readiness, and it will unite us.

“In order to this, may the eye of your understanding be more and more opened to see your need of a Redeemer; and to behold the suitableness, freeness, and fulness of the redemption, which was wrought out by the Son of God, and which is applied by the Spirit through faith! The wish which glows in my soul is so ardent and powerful, that it brings me down on my knees, while I write, and, in that supplicating posture, I entreat you all to consider and improve the day of your visitation, and to prepare, in good earnest, to meet, with joy, your God and your unworthy pastor in another world. I beseech you, by all the ministerial and providential calls you have had for these seventeen years, harden not your hearts. Let the longsuffering of God towards us, who survive the hundreds I have buried, lead us all to repentance. Dismiss your sins, and embrace Jesus Christ, who wept for you in the manger, bled for you in Gethsemane, hung for you on the cross, and now pleads for you on His mediatorial throne. By all that is dear to you, meet me not on the great day in your sins, enemies to Christ by unbelief, and to God by wicked works.

“The sum of all I have preached to you is contained in four propositions. First, heartily repent of your sins, original and actual. Secondly, believe the Gospel of Christ in sincerity and truth. Thirdly, in the power which true faith gives, run the way of God’s commandments before God and men. Fourthly, by continuing to take up your cross, and to receive the pure milk of God’s word, grow in grace, and in the knowledge of Jesus Christ.

“Should God bid me stay on earth a little longer, and should He renew my strength to do among you the work of a pastor, I hope I shall prove a more humble, zealous, and diligent minister than I have hitherto been. Some of you have supposed that I made more ado about eternity and your precious souls than they were worth; but how great was your mistake. Alas! it is my grief and shame that I have not been, both in public and private, a thousand times more earnest and importunate with you about your spiritual concerns. Pardon me, my dear friends,—pardon me my ignorances and negligences in this respect. And as I most humbly ask your forgiveness, so I most heartily forgive any of you, who may, at any time, have made no account of my little labours.

“The more nearly I consider death and the grave, judgment and eternity, the more I feel that I have preached to you the truth, and that the truth is solid as the rock of ages. Although I hope to see much more of the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living than I do see, yet, blessed be the Divine mercy! I see enough to keep my mind at all times unruffled, and to make me willing calmly to resign my soul into the hands of my faithful Creator, my loving Redeemer, and my sanctifying Comforter, this moment, or the next, if He calls for it. I desire your public thanks for all the favours He showeth me continually, with respect to both my soul and body. Help me to be thankful; for it is a pleasant thing to be thankful. Permit me also to bespeak an interest in your prayers. Ask that my faith may be willing to receive all that God’s grace is willing to bestow. Ask that I may meekly suffer, and zealously do all the will of God; and that, living or dying, I may say, with the witness of God’s Spirit, ‘For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.’

“If God calls me from earth, I beg He may appoint a more faithful shepherd over you. You need not fear that He will not: you see that, for these many months, you have not only had no famine of the word, but the richest plenty; and what God has done for months, He can do for years; yea, for all the years of your life. Only pray; ‘ask and you shall receive.’ Meet me at the throne of grace, and you shall meet at the throne of glory your affectionate, obliged, and unworthy minister,

“J. Fletcher.”^[389]