IN a letter to an aristocratic friend in London, Fletcher began the year 1782 as follows:—
“January 1, 1782. I live, blessed be God, to devote myself again to His blessed service in this world or in the next, and to wish my dear friends all the blessings of a year of jubilee. Whatever this year brings forth, may it bring us the fullest measures of salvation attainable on earth, and the most complete preparation for heaven.
“I have a solemn call to gird my loins and keep my lamp burning. Strangely restored to health and strength (considering my years), I have ventured to preach of late as often as I did formerly; and after having read prayers and preached twice on Christmas-day, I did, last Sunday, what I had never done,—I continued doing duty from ten o’clock in the morning till after four in the afternoon. This was owing to christenings, churchings, and the sacrament, which I administered to a church full of people,[559] so that I was obliged to go from the communion table to begin the evening service, and then to visit some sick. This has brought back upon me one of my old, dangerous symptoms; so I have flattered myself in vain that I should be able to do the whole duty of my own parish. My dear wife is nursing me with the tenderest care; gives me up to God with the greatest resignation; and helps me to rejoice that life and death, health and sickness, work for our good, and are all ours, as blessed means to forward us in our journey to heaven.
“We intend to set out for Madeley to-morrow. The prospect of a winter’s journey is not sweet; but the prospect of meeting you, and your dear sister, and Lady Mary Fitzgerald, and all our other companions in tribulation in heaven, is delightful. If Lady Huntingdon is in London, I beg you to present my duty to her, with my best wishes.”[560]
Fletcher and his bride left Cross Hall on Wednesday, January 2, 1782. Mrs. Fletcher wrote:—
“1782, January 2. We set out for Madeley. Where shall I begin my song of praise? What a turn is there in all my affairs! From what a depth of sorrow, distress, and perplexity am I delivered! How shall I find language to express the goodness of the Lord! I know no want but that of more grace. I have a husband, in everything suited to me. He bears with all my faults and failings in a manner that continually reminds me of the text, ‘Love your wives, as Christ loved the Church.’ His constant endeavour is to make me happy; his strongest desire is for my spiritual growth. He is, in every sense of the word, the man my highest reason chooses to obey. I am also happy in a servant[561] whom I took from the side of her mother’s coffin when she was four years old. She loves us as if we were her parents, and is also truly devoted to God.”[562]
On January 6, Fletcher and his wife spent their first Sunday at Madeley. Seventeen years afterwards, Mrs. Fletcher remarked:—
“The first Sabbath after I came to Madeley my dear husband took me into the kitchen, where his people were assembled to partake of refreshment between the times of worship. He introduced me to them, saying, ‘I have not married this wife for myself only, but for your sakes also.’”
And then the happy throng sang the hymn beginning with the verse—
A few weeks after this, Wesley paid his friends a visit of one day and two nights. He says:—
“1782. Saturday, March 23. It was with a good deal of difficulty that we got” [from Kidderminster] “to Bridgenorth, much of the road being blocked up with snow. In the afternoon, we had another kind of difficulty; the roads were so rough and so deep that we were in danger, every now and then, of leaving our wheels behind us. But, by adding two horses to my own, at length we got safe to Madeley.
“Both Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher complained that, after all the pains they had taken they could not prevail on the people to join in Society; no, nor even to meet in class. Resolved to try, I preached to a crowded audience on ‘I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.’ I followed the blow in the afternoon by strongly applying those words, ‘Awake, thou that sleepest;’ and then enforcing the necessity of Christian fellowship on all who desired either to awake or keep awake. I then desired those that were willing to join together for this purpose to call upon me and Mr. Fletcher after service. Ninety-four or ninety-five persons did so—about as many men as women. We explained to them the nature of a Christian Society, and they willingly joined therein.”[563]
Methodist preachers, for some time past, had preached in Madeley Wood, Coalbrookdale, and other adjacent places, and here Society Classes seem to have been formed; but, up to the present, the Methodist people at Madeley had refused to meet in class. Henceforth, it was different. This altered state of things was owing partly to Wesley and to Fletcher, but chiefly to Fletcher’s devoted wife.
At the time of Wesley’s visit, there was living at Little Dawley, near Madeley, a child nearly four years old, who, nineteen years afterwards, became a Methodist Itinerant Preacher, and who, in 1879, died in the one hundred and first year of his age—the tall, stalwart, grand old William Tranter. Naturally, Mr. Tranter loved Madeley, and affectionately cherished the memory of Fletcher and his wife. In an article published forty-five years ago, he wrote:—
“When Mr. Wesley’s preachers came to the neighbourhood of Madeley, Mr. Fletcher hospitably received those laborious servants of God into his house; the vicarage kitchen, before consecrated by his prayers, was now further consecrated by their earnest and faithful preaching; the Vicar of Madeley himself being one of their humblest and most prayerful hearers. The kitchen becoming too small, a barn on the premises was neatly fitted up for a preaching room. In this place, the Methodist travelling preachers, and the curate of the parish, regularly preached the Word of God. Here, also, Mrs. Fletcher, after the removal of her holy husband to his heavenly rest, held her meetings for exposition of the Scriptures, religious experience, and prayer. Surviving her husband many years” (thirty), “she lived a widow indeed, doing good to all around her, and winning the veneration and love of rich and poor, not only in the village and parish of Madeley, and in the adjoining parishes, but in all places where she was known, and to which the fame of her piety and charity had extended. The rector not only allowed her to remain in the vicarage-house, undisturbed during life, but allowed her to choose the curate by whom the duties of the living were to be performed; assigning as his reason, that she knew better than himself what would suit and benefit the parishioners. Besides exercising publicly, at stated times, in the vicarage room, she occasionally visited Madeley Wood, Coalbrookdale, Coalport, and other places more distant, at which times the chapels were usually crowded with delighted and profited hearers. To her house, the Itinerant Preachers continued to come to the end of her earthly sojourn. Here they always found a hearty welcome, and a delightful home. Several lovely Societies were formed, others were augmented, hundreds of souls were converted, Christian believers were edified and blessed, the fruit of Mr. Fletcher’s ministry was preserved, and Madeley became the rendezvous for religious persons and purposes—a privileged, honoured place,—a sort of Christian Jerusalem. It was not uncommon to see two, three, or more clergymen, pious and able men, from neighbouring and even distant parishes, among the congregation at her week-night lectures. On the Sabbath, the pious people, living at the distance of from one to four miles from Madeley, usually arrived in time for her morning meeting, at nine o’clock; and, from there, they went to the parish church close at hand. At noon, respectable strangers, visiting Madeley for religious purposes, were usually invited to dine with her at the vicarage; the poor, living too far off to allow them to return from their own houses for the after services of the day, partook, if so disposed, of her hospitalities in the vicarage-kitchen; others, having brought their provisions with them, were seen, in fine weather, in little companies in the fields, engaged in heavenly conversation and prayer; and others of the respectable portion of these pious people, had, in an apartment to themselves, a cheap family dinner provided at the village inn. On the ringing of a bell, at one o’clock, all assembled at Mrs. Fletcher’s meeting, when she was accustomed to read the life of some eminently holy man, and make remarks upon it; then they adjourned to the church, for the afternoon service there, and sermon; after which they repaired to their respective homes, and attended their own meeting-houses, at one or other of which the Curate of Madeley officiated every Sabbath evening, as well as occasionally on the week-days, always announcing at the close of the afternoon service in the church, the chapel in which he would preach that evening. This plan was adopted by Mr. Fletcher, and was followed by his evangelical and pious successors, for upwards of forty years.”[564]
The godly reader will easily forgive this rich digression, and will be inclined to sing, with Charles Wesley:—
Madeley will long continue to be a kind of Mecca to the Methodists. Many years ago, the present writer, in company with the late Rev. Dr. Jobson, visited it. They met with the utmost courtesy, the lady of the Vicar showing them everything likely to interest a Methodist. She had a lock of Fletcher’s silky hair, which she greatly prized. They were taken into Fletcher’s study, about nine feet by twelve in size, and had pointed out to them a portion of the wall, still stained with Fletcher’s breathings while engaged in prayer. The old barn-chapel was no longer in existence, but, near to its site, there was a small building, containing its pulpit, brass lamps, and prayer-book, together with the small oaken communion table at which Fletcher celebrated his last sacrament. The vicarage, a respectable old edifice, had beautiful gardens and grounds attached to it; and the parish church, built upon the site of the small old church, in which Fletcher ministered to crowded congregations, contained several mementoes to remind visitors of its memorable vicar. The steps leading both to the reading-desk and pulpit were those which Fletcher used to tread; and, in a small vestry, was preserved the register of all the baptisms, marriages, and deaths during his incumbency, and showing that his last baptism was on July 29, 1785, six weeks before his death. The old church, in which Fletcher preached, would hold five hundred; the present one, built in 1794, will seat about a thousand; and, since its erection, two others have been built in other parts of the parish. Besides these, the following Wesleyan Methodist chapels have been built: one in Court Street, Madeley, holding eight hundred; another, of the same size, in Madeley Wood; another, half the size, in Coalbrookdale; and a fourth at Coalport, capable of containing two hundred. And to these may be added two chapels, at Madeley and Madeley Wood, belonging to the Methodist New Connexion; and another belonging to the Primitive Methodists.
It is time to return to Fletcher. Among the first Methodists in Ireland were Henry and Robert Brooke, who, up to the year 1758, resided in the neighbourhood of Rantavan. Henry became the far-famed author of “The Fool of Quality; or, The History of Henry, Earl of Moreland;” published, in five volumes, 1766–1770; and of other ably-written books, which gained him the friendship of Pope, Swift, and several more of the literati of his age. He married a young lady, to whom he was guardian, when she was thirteen years of age, by whom he had seventeen children, only two of whom survived him, when he died in 1783. His brother Robert had three children: Henry, the eldest, who, for about forty years, was one of the leading Methodists in Dublin; Robert, the second, a colonel in the army; and Thomas Digby, the youngest, also connected with the Dublin Methodist Society. In the year 1772, Henry wrote to Fletcher; Fletcher mistook the nephew for the uncle, whose “Fool of Quality” had recently been completed; and this amusing mistake led Fletcher to address to the famous author the following valuable epistle:—
“Dear Sir,—I cannot tell you how often I have thought of thanking you for your kind letter. My controversy made me put it off some time, and, when I was going one day to answer you, a clergyman called upon me, read your letter, said you were a sensible author, and, if I would let him have it, he would let me have your ‘Fool of Quality,’ of which I had never heard. I forgot to take your address; but, after some months, my friend has sent me back your unexpected and welcome favour; and I now know in what street you live. A thousand thanks for your letter. May this sheet convey them from my heart to yours; and thence may they fall, like a thousand drops, into that immense ocean of goodness, truth, and love, whence come all the streams, which gladden the universe of God!
“I thankfully accept the pleasure, profit, and honour of your correspondence. But I must not deceive you; I have not yet learned the blessed precept of our Lord in respect of writing and receiving letters. I still find it more blessed to receive, than to give; and, till I have got out of this selfishness, never depend on a letter from me till you see it, and be persuaded, nevertheless, that one from you will always be welcome.
“I see, by your works, that you love truth, and that you will force your way, through all the barriers of prejudice, to embrace it in its meanest dress. That makes me love you. I hope to improve by your example and your lessons. One thing I want truly to learn, that is, that creatures and visible things are but shadows, and that God is God, Jehovah, the true, eternal Substance. To live practically in this truth is to live in the suburbs of heaven. Really to believe that in God we live, move, and have our being, is to find and enjoy the root of our existence: it is to slide from self into our original principle; from the carnal into the spiritual; from the visible into the invisible; from time into eternity. Give me, at your leisure, some directions, how to cease from busying myself about the husks of things, and how to break through the shell, so that I may come to the kernel of resurrection, life, and power, that lies hidden from the unbeliever’s sight.
“About feelings. Pray, my dear Sir, are you possessed of all the feelings of your Clinton, Clement, and Harry? Are they natural to you, I mean, previous to what we generally call conversion? I have often thought that some of the feelings you describe depend a good deal upon the fineness of the nerves, and bodily organs; and, as I am rather of a Stoic turn, I have, sometimes, comforted myself in thinking, that my want of feelings might, in a degree, proceed from the dulness of Swiss nerves. If I am not mistaken, Providence directs me to you to have this important question solved. May not some persons have as much true faith, love, humanity, and pity, as others who are ten times more affected, at least for a season? And what directions would you give to a Christian Stoic, if these two ideas are not absolutely incompatible?
“My Stoicism helps me, I think, to weather out a storm of displeasure, which my little pamphlets have raised against me. You see, I at once consult you as an old friend and spiritual casuist; nor know I how to testify better to you how unreservedly I begin to be, my very dear friend,
Probably “The Fool of Quality” was the only novel Fletcher ever read; but it taught him to respect its author. It is more than doubtful, however, whether Fletcher’s letter ever reached the gentleman for whom it was intended. At all events, there is no evidence whatever that any correspondence took place between Henry Brooke, senior, and the Vicar of Madeley. Of course, Fletcher’s communication reached the nephew of Brooke, and, nearly ten years afterwards, he and others wrote to Fletcher, requesting him and his newly-wedded wife to visit the Methodists in Dublin. Fletcher replied:—
“Dear Sir,—Last Saturday, I received your kind invitation to take a journey to Dublin, with my wife; and we join in sincere thanks for the kind and generous offer which accompanies that invitation.
“Two reasons, at this time, concur to make me postpone the accepting of it. Not to mention my state of health, I have been so long absent from my parish, that my parishioners have a just claim to my stated labours for some time; and Mr. Bayley, my curate, being wanted at Kingswood School, I must serve my own church myself, and the duty is so continual that I dare not go twenty miles from home, much less to a neighbouring kingdom. Providence may, if it be for the glory of God, make a way for me to go, and return my thanks in person. In the meantime, I beg you, Sir, to present them to all our brethren, who set their hands to your kind letter.
“If I took you, Sir, for the author of ‘The Fool of Quality,’[567] I thought I saw his style in the style of your letter; however, I was not much mistaken. Your pen is nearly allied to his, as your blood is to his. May one Spirit, the humble, loving Spirit of Jesus, make us all of one heart and soul! May we, notwithstanding the channel which separates our bodies, rejoice that one truth unites our souls, and that the common faith and love make us join daily in Christ our Head! So prays, dear Sir, your affectionate and obliged brother and servant,
Fletcher and his wife remained at Madeley, and the latter wrote:—
“May 30, 1782. I have the kindest and tenderest of husbands; of so spiritual a man, and so spiritual a union, I had no adequate conception. He is every way suited to me, all I could wish. The work among souls increases.”[569]
A few weeks later, in a letter to Wesley, she said:—
“Very Dear Sir,—I find a desire of informing you how we go on. The people you joined, when here, are, I trust, coming forward. I have not conversed with the men; but the women are more in number than at that time. Some have been clearly justified, I think five; and three or four are restored to that communion with God, which they had for some years lost. A few are athirst for a clean heart; and, on the whole, there is a good increase of freedom and liberty in our class-meetings. We have now also a band,[570] into which I gather the most lively; all that are newly blest, or that have any light into sanctification; and we have much of the presence of God with us.
“My dear Mr. Fletcher spares no pains. I know not which is greater, his earnest desire for souls, or his patience in bearing with their infirmities and dulness. His preaching is exceeding lively; and our sacraments are more like those in the chapels of London than any I have seen since I left it. Yet, I find a great difference between the people here and those in Yorkshire: however, the Lord has little ones here also.
“Last Friday, after riding two hours in the rain, we came to a good congregation, where there was neither house nor church to cover us; but I have not seen more of the Yorkshire attention since I left that county, nor had a more solemn time; though we were under a wet cloud all the while, and our poor servant waiting for us, who brought us safe home by ten o’clock the same night. This is one of the old congregations which my husband has visited for years; and where he joined (in Society) sixty persons. Next Friday, we are to see them again, and he purposes to enquire into the state of those which remain. There are, in many parts about here, some serious hearers, and we wish them all to be brought into a regular discipline. My husband has been at near £500 expense in building a small Preaching-house, that, if he should be removed, they may have a fold to prevent them from being scattered. But were they joined (in Society) now, it would be far more likely to answer the end. On this subject we wish to have a little conversation with you.
Two months after this, Fletcher was temporarily disabled by an accident, mentioned in a long letter to Lady Mary Fitzgerald, from which the following is extracted:—
“My Honoured Friend,—The Lord has peculiar favours in store for your ladyship, and for me; the proof is, that we are afflicted. Have you been in a weak state of health? I have had the honour to drink of your cup. The influenza laid me down; and, when I was partly well, I broke my shin against a bench, in consequence of which I am confined by a bad leg to my bed, where I write this.
“You still complain of vile self. Let vile self be reduced to order, and, though he be a bad master, he will become an excellent servant. Do this, by letting the Lord, the Maker, the Preserver, the Redeemer, the Lover of your soul, ascend upon the throne of your thoughts, will, and affections. Who deserves to engross them better than He does? Is not He your first Lord, your best Husband, your most faithful Friend, and your greatest Benefactor? Oh! allow Jehovah, the Supreme Being, to be to you what He deserves to be, All in all. One lively act of faith, one assent and consent to this delightful truth, that your Father, who is in heaven, loves you a thousand times more than you love your idol (for God’s love is, like Himself, infinite and boundless), will set your heart at liberty, and even make it dance for joy. What, if to this ravishing consideration, you add the transporting truth, that the Son of God, fairer than the sons of men and brighter than the angels, has loved you unto death, to the death of the cross, and loves you still more than all your friends do, were their love collected into one heart, could you help thinking, with a degree of joyous gratitude, of such an instance of Divine condescension? No, your vile self would be ennobled, raised, expanded, and set at liberty by this evangelical thought. Self would be nobody; Emmanuel would be all in all. You would be so employed in praising your Father’s mercy, and your Saviour’s love and tenderness, that you would have but little time to speak either of good or bad self. When self is forgotten, as nothing before God, you put self in its proper place; and you make room for the heavenly Being, whose holy and happy existence you are to shadow out. If you have left off attending on the Princess,[572] attend on the Prince of Peace with double diligence.
“Shall we ever have the honour of seeing you, my lady? My wife, who joins in respectful love and thanks to your ladyship, for your remembrance of her, says, she will do her best to render our cold house safe for you, if not convenient. You would have had a repeated invitation from us, if a concern for your health, heightened by the bad weather, had not checked our desires to have an opportunity of assuring you how much we are devoted to your service. But the roads and weather beginning to mend, we venture to offer you the best apartment in our hermitage. I wish it were large enough to take in dear Mrs. G——,[573] and our dear friends in St. James’s Place; but we have only two small rooms; to which, however, you would be received with two enlarged hearts,—I mean those of your ladyship’s obedient, devoted servants,
How long Fletcher was laid aside from his public work there is no evidence to show. His position was somewhat trying, for the work was heavy, and Mr. Bayley, his curate, had been obliged to return to Wesley’s school at Kingswood. This and other matters are referred to in the following letter to Charles Wesley:—
“Rev. and Dear Sir,—I thank you for your hint about exemplifying the love of Christ and His Church. I hope we do. I was afraid, at first, to say much of the matter; but, having lived thirteen months in my new state, I can tell you, Providence has reserved a prize for me, and that my wife is far better to me than the Church to Christ, so that if the parallel fails, it will be on my side.
“Be so good as to peruse the enclosed sheets. Mr. De Luc, to whom they are addressed, is reader to the Queen, and the author of some volumes of Letters to her: he is a true philosopher. I flatter myself, he will present my letter to the Queen. Do you find anything improper in the addition I have made to my poem? I wish I were near you for your criticisms; you would direct me, both as a poet and a Frenchman.
“I have yet strength enough to do my parish duty without the help of a curate. O that the Lord would help me to do it acceptably and profitably! The colliers began to rise in this neighbourhood: happily the cockatrice’s egg was crushed, before the serpent came out. However, I got many a hearty curse from the colliers, for the plain words I spoke on that occasion. I want to see days of power both within and without; but, meantime, I would follow closely my light in the narrow path.
“My wife joins me in respectful love to Mrs. Wesley and yourself; and, requesting an interest in your prayers for us, I remain, my dear Sir, your affectionate, obliged brother, servant, and son in the Gospel,
The “poem,” mentioned in this letter, was “La Grace et la Nature,” which Fletcher had composed in Switzerland, and published in Geneva. He had now enlarged it, and wished to publish a second edition of it, and to dedicate the book to the Queen of King George the Third. This was done a few months before he died; but, previous to committing his sheets to the press, he submitted them to the criticism of Charles Wesley, Methodism’s unequalled hymnologist.
This, however, was not the only poem on which Fletcher was now engaged. On November 30, 1782, the preliminaries of the peace with America were signed; and, on January 20, 1783, peace was concluded with France and Spain. The termination of the long and disastrous war gave no one greater joy than it did Fletcher. He celebrated it in another poem, written also in French, and dedicated to the Archbishop of Paris.[576] This was published, but is now extremely scarce. Fletcher enlarged it; and, in 1785, Mr. Gilpin translated it into English, and intended to dedicate his translation to the author; but, just as this English edition was being printed, Fletcher died, and the dedication, dated exactly a fortnight after Fletcher’s death, was, “To the Honoured Mrs. Mary de la Flechere, of Madeley, in Shropshire.” The title of the poem was, “An Essay upon the Peace of 1783. Dedicated to the Archbishop of Paris. Translated from the French of the Rev. J. Fletcher, late Vicar of Madeley. By the Rev. J. Gilpin, Vicar of Wrockwardine, Salop. London: Printed by R. Hindmarsh, 1785.” 4to, 79 pp.
Want of space renders it impossible to furnish extracts from this poetical production. In rhyme and rhythm, Fletcher, or, more probably, his translator, was far from perfect; but that the Vicar, bred among the inspiring scenery of Switzerland, was possessed of real poetic genius, there cannot be a doubt. His descriptions of a naval battle, and of a fight on land, and of the bombarding of Gibraltar, are very graphic. So also are his definitions of the passions which war too frequently evokes.
Though hardly worth mentioning, it may be stated, that the only thing published by Fletcher, in the year 1782, was the following: “A Race for Eternal Life: being an Extract from the Heavenly Footman. A Sermon on 1 Cor. ix. 24: written by the Author of the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress.’ By the Rev. Mr. Fletcher. London: printed by R. Hindmarsh.” 12mo, 16 pp. Fletcher says:—
“This extract is published,—1. To stir up lazy and inconsistent Arminian professors, who assert that we should work out our own salvation with all diligence, and yet neglect doing it. And, 2. To convince of partiality the contentious Calvinists, who quarrel with their brethren for preaching consistently the very same doctrine, which is inconsistently maintained by their orthodox teachers, among whom pious John Bunyan stands in the first rank.”
About this time, two young men were introduced to Fletcher, whom he helped to the utmost of his power, and who, soon afterwards, attained distinction, as clergymen of the Church of England.
One of these was Nathaniel Gilbert, the eldest son of Nathaniel Gilbert, Esq., Speaker of the House of Assembly in Antigua, and who formed the first Methodist Society in the West Indies. In 1759, he had requested Fletcher to accompany him to the Western Archipelago; but Fletcher had declined, on the ground that he had neither “sufficient zeal, nor grace, nor talents” for such missionary work. His son, Nathaniel, was sent to England at the age of seven (about the year 1761), and, three years later, was placed under the care of the Rev. Mr. Hatton, of Water’s Upton, in Shropshire, where he acquired a knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages. On returning to Antigua, he found that the estate of his father was overwhelmed with debt, and that the subsistence of the family depended on a small jointure belonging to his mother. He came back to England; settled in the parish of Madeley; enjoyed the advantages of Fletcher’s ministry and counsels; and devoted himself to God. On receiving episcopal ordination, the places of his ministerial labours were Bristol, London, Budworth, Sierra Leone, Aveley, and Bledlow. He was an eminently good and useful man; and peacefully fell asleep in Jesus, in 1807, in the forty-sixth year of his age.[577]
The other youth, who greatly benefited by Fletcher’s example and advice, was Melville Horne, who, for a few years, was one of Wesley’s Itinerant Preachers, and then was ordained for the ministry of the Church of England. Melville Horne was a remarkable man, of whom it would be an easy and pleasant task to write a more than ordinary biography. Suffice it to say here, that, a year after Fletcher’s death, he became the officiating minister in Fletcher’s church; that, in 1792, he and his friend Gilbert went as missionaries to Sierra Leone; that, on his return in 1794, he was appointed Chaplain of Magdalen Chapel, Bristol; and then became Vicar of Olney.[578] This is not the place to record his subsequent career of distinguished usefulness; but the testimony of such a man, concerning Fletcher, is worthy of being quoted. Many years after his first introduction to Fletcher, he wrote:—
“On all my visits to Mr. Fletcher, I derived the highest pleasure and edification. I not only had the opportunity of hearing many excellent sermons, but of seeing him in the privacies of life; and I know not which most to venerate,—his public or his private character. Grave and dignified in his deportment and manners, he yet excelled in all the courtesies of the accomplished gentleman. In every company, he appeared as the least, the last, and the servant of all. From head to foot, he was clothed with humility; while the heavenly-mindedness of an angel shone from his countenance, and sparkled in his eyes. His religion was without labour, and without effort; for Christianity was not only his great business, but his very element and nature. As a mortal man, he doubtless had his errors and failings; but what they were, they who knew him best would find it difficult to say; for he appeared as an instrument of heavenly minstrelsy always attuned to the Master’s touch.
“In every view, he was a great man, and entitled to rank in the very first class of ministers; but it was his goodness that raised him above all the ministers of his day.
“On my occasional visits to Madeley, I was struck with several things. Once, when preaching on Noah as a type of Christ, he was in the midst of a most animated description of the terrible day of the Lord, when he suddenly paused. Every feature of his expressive countenance was marked with painful feeling; and, striking his forehead with the palm of his hand, he exclaimed, ‘Wretched man that I am! Beloved brethren, it often cuts me to the soul, as it does at this moment, to reflect, that, while I have been endeavouring, by the force of truth, by the beauty of holiness, and even by the terrors of the Lord, to bring you to walk in the peaceable paths of righteousness, I am, with respect to many of you who reject the Gospel, only tying millstones round your necks, to sink you deeper in perdition!’ The whole congregation was electrified, and it was some time before he could resume his subject.
“On another occasion, after the morning service, he asked if any of the congregation could give him the address of a sick man whom he was desired to visit. He was answered, ‘He is dead, Sir.’ ‘Dead! dead!’ he exclaimed; ‘another soul launched into eternity! What can I do for him now? Why, my friends, will you so frequently serve me in this manner? I am not informed you are ill till I find you dying, or hear that you are dead.’ Then sitting down, he covered his head with his gown, and, when the congregation had retired, walked home crushed with sorrow.
“One New Year’s Day, Gilbert and myself dined with him, as did also a pious young man and his wife. After he had entertained us with much pious and instructive conversation, as we all stood around the fire and were ready to separate, he took Gilbert’s hand and mine and joined them together, and said, ‘You two young men are united by blood, by friendship, and by your destination to the blessed service of the sanctuary.’ Then, turning to the young man and his wife, he remarked, ‘Do you also, whom God has joined in the tenderest of earthly bonds, join hands, and I will take that of my beloved wife.’ This being done, he continued, ‘And now what shall we render unto the Lord for all His benefits? What blessings have we received! What mercies have followed us the last year! This is the first day of a new year. Let us give our whole soul to God. Let us start afresh on the road to immortality. Forgetting the things that are behind, let us press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.’ And then, lifting his eyes to heaven, he prayed for the whole of us most fervently and affectionately.”[579]
After this account of the covenant service in Fletcher’s vicarage, Mr. Horne proceeds to relate other anecdotes which came within his own personal knowledge. He writes:—
“In the contests of humility, kindness, and affection, it was impossible to surpass Mr. Fletcher. On one occasion, the Rev. Moseley Cheek had been preaching in his parish; and, on their way home to Madeley, in a dark night, and along a deep, dirty road, Mr. Fletcher carefully held the lantern to Mr. Cheek, while he himself walked through the mire. Mr. Cheek made fruitless attempts to take the lantern from him; Mr. Fletcher replying to his protests, ‘What, my brother, have you been holding up the glorious light of the Gospel, and will you not permit me to hold this dim taper to your feet?’
“At another time, the Rev. Mr. Gilpin perceiving a funeral waiting at the church gate, took the surplice and commenced the service; but he had hardly got into the desk when Mr. Fletcher, who had been visiting a sick person, came into the church, and gently drawing away a lad who was officiating in the absence of the clerk, took his place. After the service was ended, he observed that he could not bear to see the place of an inferior servant of the Church improperly filled up without attempting to supply it himself with a greater degree of decorum and reverence.
“Once, when my coat was dusty with riding, he insisted on brushing it, but objected to let me perform the same office for himself. Mrs. Fletcher, who perceived our contest, said, with a smile, ‘Then suffer me to do it; for I assure you, my dear, you need it as much as Mr. Horne.’ ‘If you please, my love,’ was the reply, ‘you shall do it, for you are a part of myself.’”[580]
“Some of these anecdotes,” says Mr. Cox, “may, at first sight, appear too trivial for publication; but they are highly descriptive of Mr. Fletcher’s general demeanour; and, as Rosseau observes, ‘The physiognomy does not show itself in great features, nor the character of a man in great actions. It is in trifles that the natural disposition discovers itself.’”[581]
While Fletcher was forming new friendships with young Nathaniel Gilbert and Melville Horne, his old friends were rapidly dying. His generous host, Mr. Charles Greenwood, of Stoke Newington, triumphantly exchanged mortality for eternal life on February 21, 1783, on which occasion Fletcher wrote the following to Mrs. Thornton:—
“My Dear Friend,—Yesterday, I received your melancholy joyful letter as I came from the sacrament, where the grace of God had armed me to meet the news. And is my merciful host gone to reap the fruit of his mercy to me? I thought I should have been permitted to go first, and welcome him into everlasting habitations; but Providence has ordered it otherwise, and I am left behind to say, with you and dear Mrs. Greenwood, ‘The Lord gave and has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’ The glory with which Mr. Greenwood’s setting sun was gilded, is the greatest comfort by which heaven could alleviate his loss. Let me die as he died, and let my last end be like his! I was so affected by your account that I could not help reading part of your letter at church in the afternoon, and desiring all the congregation to join me in thanksgiving for the late mercies God has vouchsafed to my generous benefactor. On such occasions, let sighs be lost in praise, and repining in humble submission and thankful acquiescence. I hope dear Mrs. Greenwood mixes tears of joy with tears of sorrow. Who would not be landed on the other side of the stream of time if he were sure of such a passage? Who would wish his best friend back on the shores of sorrow so triumphantly left by Mr. Greenwood?
“So Mr. and Mrs. Perronet are no more; and Lazarus is still alive! What scenes does this world afford! But the most amazing is that of Emmanuel crucified, and offering us pardons and crowns of glory!”[582]
Another letter, written three months after this, was addressed to John Valton, the Methodist itinerant, who preached at Cross Hall to the wedding party on the evening of Fletcher’s marriage.
“Our dear friend’s acceptable favour gave us much pleasure, though we have been so long in thanking him for it.
“Never did we imagine till lately how great your trial has been about the house at Birstal.[583] But how gracious is the Lord! How has He here paid you by the refreshing shower which has since distilled as the dew on the grass. O what comfortable accounts have reached us of the wonderful revival in your circuit.[584] In this my heart does indeed rejoice.
“God is good unto us also. He has not left us without encouragement. For some time past, we have scarcely had a week in which one or more has not been set at liberty. But we are called, I believe, to leave them for a little while, and to spend a few weeks in Dublin. They complain of this, but the will of the Lord must be done. When He calls, even life itself must not be esteemed too dear.
“You will be thankful to hear that my best earthly friend continues in tolerable health, though neither of us is strong. We are more and more sensible of the loving kindness of the Lord in casting our lot together. Every day helps us to praise Him more and more for His condescension and goodness to such unworthy worms. I speak thus freely to you because you were a witness of the beginning of our pilgrimage together. I see many professors, and many really in earnest; but, alas! very seldom any who can warm one’s heart with the deep things of God. O for a deeper baptism of the Spirit! I want that promise more fully accomplished, ‘I and my Father will come, and will make our abode with you.’
“Praying that the Lord may be with you all at the ensuing Conference, we remain, dear brother, your affectionate friends,
The foregoing letter mentions an intended visit to Dublin. It has been already stated that Fletcher received an invitation from the Dublin Methodists to visit them in 1782; and that he was then obliged to decline their invitation. Now his way to Ireland seemed open. Mrs. Fletcher writes:—