FOR three years after his ordination, Fletcher was without a Church appointment. How did he spend this interval? Wesley says:—
“He was now doubly diligent in preaching, not only in the chapels at West Street and Spitalfields, but wherever the providence of God opened a door to proclaim the everlasting Gospel. This he did frequently in French (as well as in English), of which all judges allowed him to be a complete master.”[20]
As might be expected, Fletcher soon became a great favourite among the first Methodists. Almost at once, he was the highly esteemed friend of Miss Bosanquet (his future wife), Ann Tripp, Sarah Crosby, Sarah Ryan,[21] Thomas Walsh, and others, whose Methodistic fame will never perish. After his death, in 1785, Mrs. Crosby wrote:—
“It is now eight or nine and twenty years since I was first favoured with Mr. Fletcher’s heavenly conversation, in company with Mr. Walsh and a few other friends, most of whom are now in the world of spirits. At these seasons, how frequently did we feel—
How frequently were we silenced thereby, while tears of love our souls o’erflowed! It affects me while I recollect the humility, fervour of spirit, and strength of faith with which dear Mr. Fletcher so often poured out his soul before the Great Three One, at whose feet we have lain in holy shame and silence, till earth seemed turned to heaven. I heard this heavenly-minded servant of the Lord preach his first sermon in West Street chapel. I think his text was, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ His spirit appeared in his whole attitude and action. He could not well find words in the English language to express himself; but he supplied that defect by offering up prayers, tears, and sighs. Nearly about this time he saw Miss Bosanquet, and began his acquaintance with her; but, although they highly esteemed each other, they had no correspondence for above twenty years.”[22]
Fletcher still continued to be the tutor of the sons of Mr. Hill. During the sitting of Parliament, he was in London; the remainder of the year was chiefly spent at Tern Hall.[23] Whilst at the latter place, he preached, on June 19, 1757, for the first time in the church at Atcham, taking as his text, “Ye adulterers and adultresses, know ye not that the friendship of the world is enmity against God?” “A very bold beginning,” wrote his friend Mr. Vaughan. “The congregation stood amazed, and gazed upon him as if he had been a monster; but to me he appeared as a messenger sent from heaven. It was not soon that he was invited again to preach in Atcham church, but he was invited to preach in others; first in Wroxeter, and afterwards at the Abbey Church in Shrewsbury;[24] but I doubt whether he preached more than six times in the six months he stayed in the country. On my saying I wished he had more opportunities of preaching, he answered, ‘The will of God be done; I am in His hands. If He does not call me to so much public duty, I have the more time for study, prayer, and praise.’”[25]
In the month of May, 1757, Wesley was in the north of England and Fletcher was in London. The following letter to Wesley needs no further introduction:—
“Rev. Sir,—If I did not write to you before Mrs. Wesley had asked me, it was not that I wanted a remembrancer within, but rather an encourager without. There is generally upon my heart such a sense of my unworthiness, that sometimes I dare hardly open my mouth before a child of God, and think it an unspeakable honour to stand before one who has recovered something of the image of God, or sincerely seeks after it. Is it possible that such a sinful worm as I should have the privilege to converse with one whose soul is besprinkled with the blood of my Lord? The thought amazes, confounds me, and fills my eyes with tears of humble joy. Judge, then, at what distance I must see myself from you if I am so much below the least of your children; and whether a remembrancer within suffices to make me presume to write to you, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear.
“I rejoice that you find everywhere an increase of praying souls. I doubt not that the prayer of the just has great power with God, but I cannot believe that it should hinder the fulfilling of Christ’s gracious promises to His Church. He must, and certainly will, come at the time appointed, for He is not slack, as some men count slackness; and, although He would have all come to repentance, He has not forgotten to be true and just. Only He will come with more mercy, and will increase the light that shall be at eventide, according to His promise in Zech. xiv. 7. I should rather think that the visions are not yet plainly disclosed, and that the day and year in which the Lord will begin to make bare His arm openly, are still concealed from us.
“I must say concerning Mr. Walsh,[26] as he once said to me concerning God, ‘I wish I could attend him everywhere, as Elisha attended Elijah.’ But since the will of God calls me from him, I must submit, and drink the cup prepared for me. I have not seen him, unless for a few moments three or four times before divine service. We must meet at the throne of grace, or meet but seldom. Oh when will the communion of saints be complete? Lord, hasten the time, and let me have a place among them who love Thee, and love one another in sincerity!
“I set out in two days for the country. Oh may I be faithful; harmless, like a dove; wise, like a serpent; and bold, as a lion, for the common cause! O Lord, do not forsake me! Stand by the weakest of Thy servants, and enable Thy children to bear with me and to wrestle with Thee on my behalf!
“Oh bear with me, dear Sir, and give me your blessing every day, and the Lord will return to you sevenfold.
There is no need to dwell on Fletcher’s humbleness, as displayed in this letter, for that was one of his chief characteristics to the end of life. It may be added, however, that the letter furnishes fresh proof that Fletcher was one of the godly few who were expecting the speedy appearance of the incarnate and glorified Redeemer. It is probable that his letter to Wesley on prophecy had led Wesley to advert to the same subject, and that this was Fletcher’s answer to one of Wesley’s critiques.
Three weeks after the date of this letter, Fletcher preached his first sermon in a church. This was at Atcham, on June 19, as already stated. As in the case of Wesley, churches, however, were soon closed against him. To his friend and class-leader, Mr. Edwards, of London, he wrote:—
“I thank you for your encouraging observations. I want them, and use them by the grace of God. When I received yours, I had not had one opportunity of preaching; so incensed were all the clergy against me. One, however, let me have the use of his church—the Abbey Church at Shrewsbury. I preached in the forenoon with some degree of the demonstration of the Spirit. The congregation was very numerous, and I believe one half, at least, desired to hear me again. But the minister would not let me have the pulpit any more. The next Sunday, the minister of a neighbouring parish lying a-dying, I was sent for to officiate for him. He died a few days after, and the chief man in the parish offered to make interest that I might succeed him; but I could not consent. The next Sunday I preached at Shrewsbury again, but in another church. The next day I set out for Bristol, and was much refreshed among the brethren. As I returned, I called at New Kingswood, about sixteen miles from Bristol. The minister offering me his church, I preached to a numerous congregation, gathered on half an hour’s notice. I think the seed then sown will not be lost.”[28]
Early in the year 1758, Wesley introduced Fletcher to the Countess of Huntingdon. Her ladyship wrote:—
“1758, March 19. I have seen Mr. Fletcher, and was both pleased and refreshed by the interview. He was accompanied by Mr. Wesley, who had frequently mentioned him in terms of high commendation, as had Mr. Whitefield, Mr. Charles Wesley, and others, so that I was anxious to become acquainted with one so devoted, and who appears to glory in nothing, save in the cross of our Divine Lord and Master. Hearing that he preached in French, his native language, I mentioned the case of the French prisoners at Tunbridge. May the Lord of the harvest bless his word, and send forth many such faithful ambassadors!”[29]
Fletcher was becoming famous. Already, in his twenty-ninth year, he had gained the love and admiration of the Wesley brothers, of Whitefield, and of the Methodist great “elect lady.” At her request, Fletcher hied away to Tunbridge, and preached to a congregation of prisoners on their parole, who were so deeply affected by the truth, which many of them had not heard before, that they earnestly requested he would preach to them every Sunday. They proceeded even further, for they signed and sent a petition to Sherlock, Bishop of London, begging him to allow Fletcher to officiate as their weekly chaplain. Strangely enough, notwithstanding Sherlock’s high repute for piety, he peremptorily rejected the prisoners’ petition. Wesley says: “If I had known this at the time, King George should have known it, and I believe he would have given the Bishop little thanks.”[30]
Fletcher, as usual, continued in London with his pupils until the prorogation of Parliament, when Mr. Hill and his family returned to their country home. The journey to Shropshire was made in the family coach; but, unfortunately, Mr. Hill commenced it on the Sabbath-day.[31] This was a trial to Fletcher. Hence the following letter to Charles Wesley:—
“Rev. and Dear Sir,—Before I took my leave of you, the Sunday I set out, and indeed almost all the time I was at the communion table, I felt some degree of condemnation, as if, by setting out on that day, I profaned the Sabbath, and the Lord’s supper; whereupon those words came strongly to my mind, ‘Therefore many among you are sick and weak, and some are dead.’ I immediately found myself out of order, and had much ado to reach home after the service was over. Till the horses were at the door, I thought I should not be able to go; but found myself then a little strengthened. The next day, I was much worse, and they were obliged to make room for me in the coach. The day after, I was still worse, and really thought it would be my last. About noon, while the family was at dinner, I collected what little strength I had left; and, falling prostrate before the Lord, I besought Him not to cut me off among heathens, but to grant me the favour of comforting and being comforted by some Christian at my death. This request, so contrary to true resignation, I think reached the ear of the Lord. He rebuked the rage of the fever, and sensibly filled my soul with all peace in believing; so that I saw I was yet for the land of the living. Nay, a few hours after, I found myself as well as ever; and so I continue now by God’s grace.
“What have I to do but to make good use of the health and leisure I have in this retreat? I see my duty, and I form resolutions; but, alas! I carry with me a wicked heart, which enters not into these projects; and Satan is never more assiduous and eager to injure us than in retirement. I feel, however, by the grace of God, determined to sustain all the attacks of the flesh and of the devil, and to seize the kingdom of heaven by force. The Lord has been particularly gracious to me, in putting it into my heart to pray for the brethren. I have experienced more power and more pleasure in this duty of intercession than I have ever done. You will rightly judge that you are not forgotten in these poor prayers; and I hope that you also sometimes remember me.
“I hope you have overcome the scruple which prevented you from giving Mr. Maxfield full liberty to labour for the Lord among us.[32] The interest of the brethren, and no other motive, makes me desire it.
“I shall not see you in Bristol;[33] the journey of my pupils not taking place at the time expected. May the Lord be with you more and more in your labours and in your devotions! Farewell!
At this period, Sarah Ryan, with whom Fletcher had become acquainted, was acting as the housekeeper in Wesley’s “New Room” at Bristol.[35] To her Fletcher addressed the following hitherto unpublished letter:—
“My Sister,—Where shall I begin the sad account I must give you of my numberless infidelities from the time I left you? That very day, having been called to preach in a church on our way, the freedom with which the Lord enabled me to do it puffed me up in some measure. The clear sight of the prize of my high calling was clouded, and so it remained till I got home, when it pleased God to revive my hope full of immortality, and to enable me to hunger and thirst after the everlasting righteousness that shall be brought into the souls of those in whom faith shall have its perfect work. During a few days, I rejoiced because of the power I had over the sin that most easily beset me,—I mean drowsiness; but, alas! my triumph was but short; for, if the enemy did not come in at this door, another, no less effectual, was opened to him. Just as I was going to resume my daily course of business, I was called to preach in a church at Salop, and was obliged to compose a sermon in the moments I should have spent in prayer. Hurry and the want of a single eye again drew a veil between the prize and my soul. In the meantime, Sunday came, and God rejected my impure service, and abhorred the labour of my polluted soul; and, while others imputed my not preaching to the fear of the minister who had invited me to his pulpit, and to the threatenings of a mob, I saw the wisdom and holiness of God, and rejoiced in that providence which does all without the assistance of hurrying Uzzah.
“In general, I find I am surrounded with thousands of temptations, so much the more dangerous because they are disguised under the appearance of duties. I find, at times, such an alienation to religious duties as makes me almost question whether I have a grain of living faith. I think God has, this morning, shown me, in a clearer light than ever, that I must begin to hang upon frames no more, but learn to stand by a naked faith.
“P.S.—Direct to John Fletcher, under cover to Thomas Hill, Esq., M.P., at Tern, near Shrewsbury.
Thus did these earnest first Methodists watch over themselves with a godly jealousy; and thus, in addition to the Christian fellowship in their weekly class-meetings, did they tell their religious experience to each other in epistolary correspondence. To this fact, pre-eminently, Methodism is indebted for its rich biographies.
Immediately after the date of the above letter, Fletcher must have set out for Bristol, for Wesley writes:—
“In the following week” (the third week in October), “I met Mr. Fletcher, and the other preachers that were in the house at Bristol, and spent a considerable time in close conversation on the head of Christian Perfection. I afterwards wrote down the general propositions wherein we all agreed.”[36]
No doubt, these propositions were substantially the same as those which Wesley, two months before, had presented to his Annual Conference, and which were:—
1. That Christian Perfection does not “exclude all infirmities, ignorance, and mistake.”
2. That those who think they have attained Christian Perfection, in speaking their own experience, should “speak with great wariness, and with the deepest humility and self-abasement before God.”
3. That young preachers, especially, should “speak of Perfection in public, not too minutely or circumstantially, but rather in general and scriptural terms.”
4. That Christian Perfection “implies the loving God with all the heart, so that every evil temper is destroyed, and every thought, and word, and work springs from, and is conducted to the end by, the pure love of God and our neighbour.”[37]
At the close of the year, Fletcher, as usual, was, with the family of Mr. Hill, in London, where he wrote the following to Charles Wesley. There can be no doubt that the “humiliation before he left Tern” was the imputations cast upon him on account of his failing to preach in the church at Salop, mentioned in the foregoing letter to Sarah Ryan.
“My Dear Sir,—Before I left Tern, the Lord gave me a medicine to prepare me to suffer what awaited me here. This humiliation prepared me so well that I was not surprised to learn a person in London had spread abroad many false and scandalous things of me during my absence; and that the minds of many were prejudiced against me. In one sense, I took a pleasure in thinking that I was going to be rejected by the children of God, and that my Saviour would become more dear under the idea that, as in heaven, so now on earth, I should have none but Him. The first time I appeared in the chapel many were so offended that it was with difficulty they could forbear interrupting me in prayer, to tell me, ‘Physician, heal thyself.’ I was on the point of declining to officiate, fearing I should only give fresh offence; indeed, I should have done so had it not been for my friend Bernon, who pressed me to stand firm, representing the triumph my silence would give my enemies. His reasons appeared to me so cogent, that, as your brother did not reject my assistance, I read prayers, and engaged to preach sometimes of a morning; which I have accordingly continued to do.”[38]
This is an unpleasant but amusing episode, and presents these first Methodists in a frame of heart and mind far from commendable. Of course, Fletcher was not faultless. Perhaps he was blameable in the sermon affair at Salop; but, as Wesley still permitted him to read prayers and to preach in the West Street chapel, London, it may be taken for granted that his offence, if an offence had been committed, was a very venial one. Some of the early Methodists had more zeal than charity.
Fletcher continued to officiate in West Street chapel, and, whilst doing so, a proposal was made which occasioned him considerable anxiety. Nathaniel Gilbert inherited an estate in Antigua. For some years, he had been the Speaker in the House of Assembly of that island. In 1758, he was in England, and resided at Wandsworth. Wesley, on January 17, 1758, preached in his house, and met two of his negro servants and a mulatto, who appeared to be much awakened. In the month of November following, Wesley baptized the two negroes. Mr. Gilbert returned to Antigua in the autumn of 1759, and, having become acquainted with Fletcher, was desirous that he should go with him to the West Indian Islands, and preach to the planters and their slaves the “glorious Gospel of the blessed God.” Hence the following letter to Charles Wesley:—
“My Dear Sir,—Since your departure, I have lived more than ever like a hermit. It seems to me that I am an unprofitable weight upon the earth. I want to hide myself from all. I tremble when the Lord favours me with a sight of myself; I tremble to think of preaching only to dishonour God. To-morrow, I preach at West Street, with all the feelings of Jonah. Would to God I might be attended with his success!
“A proposal has lately been made to me to accompany Mr. Nathaniel Gilbert to the West Indies. I have weighed the matter, but, on one hand I feel that I have neither sufficient zeal, nor grace, nor talents to expose myself to the temptations and labours of a mission in the West Indies; and, on the other, I believe that if God calls me thither, the time is not yet come. I wish to be certain that I am converted myself before I leave my converted brethren to convert heathen. Pray let me know what you think of this business. If you condemn me to put the sea between us, the command would be a hard one, but I might possibly prevail on myself to give you that proof of the deference I pay to your judicious advice.
“I have taken possession of my little hired chamber. There I have outward peace, and I wait for that which is within. I was this morning with Lady Huntingdon, who salutes you. Our conversation was deep, and full of the energy of faith on the part of the Countess; as to me, I sat like Saul at the feet of Gamaliel.”[39]
Charles Wesley evidently was one of Fletcher’s confidential advisers, and had great influence over him. Fortunately, that influence was not used to induce him to go to the West Indies. Had he gone, in all probability his “Checks to Antinomianism” would never have been written, and his incalculable services to Wesley and to Methodism would not have been rendered.
From the concluding part of Fletcher’s letter, it would seem that he was not now resident in Mr. Hill’s London mansion, but had “a little hired chamber” of his own. The probability is, that, during the Easter holidays of Parliament, Mr. Hill had returned to Shropshire, and that Fletcher had remained in London to officiate for the two Wesleys in West Street chapel; and, perhaps, in the Foundery, and in the chapel at Spitalfields. Twelve months previously, the Methodist Societies connected with these three places of worship had been blessed with the unspeakably precious ministry of the never-to-be-forgotten Thomas Walsh. “Lord,” said he, when leaving them on February 19, 1758, “Lord, Thou hast given me much favour in the eyes of this people. They show it by words and deeds; their prayers and tears. Reward them a thousandfold!” Seventeen days after the date of Fletcher’s foregoing letter, Thomas Walsh departed this life in Dublin, in the twenty-eighth year of his age. During his last days on earth, he was pre-eminently “in heaviness,” great, distressing “heaviness, through manifold temptations.” At length, Satan was defeated, victory came, Walsh rapturously exclaimed, “He is come! He is come! My Beloved is mine, and I am His! His for ever!” And, uttering these words, he triumphantly expired.[40] Fletcher had become acquainted with Walsh by attending his ministry in Wesley’s London chapels. On hearing of his death, he wrote the following impassioned letter to Charles Wesley:—
“My Dear Sir,—With a heart bowed down with grief, and eyes bathed with tears, occasioned by our late heavy loss—I mean the death of Mr. Walsh—I take my pen to pray you to intercede for me. What! that sincere, laborious, and zealous servant of God! Was he saved only as ‘by fire,’ and his prayer not heard till the twelfth hour was just expiring? Oh where shall I appear! I, who am an unprofitable servant! Would to God my eyes were fountains of waters to weep for my sins! Would to God I might pass the rest of my days in crying, ‘Lord, have mercy upon me!’ ‘All is vanity’—grace, talents, labours,—if we compare them with the mighty stride we have to take from time into eternity! Lord, remember me, now that Thou art in Thy kingdom!
“I have preached and administered the sacrament at West Street sometimes in the holidays. May God water the poor seed I have sown, and give it fruitfulness, though it be only in one soul! But I have seen so much weakness in my heart, both as a minister and a Christian, that I know not which is most to be pitied—the man, the believer, or the preacher. Could I at last be truly humbled, and continue so always, I should esteem myself happy in making this discovery. I preach merely to keep the chapel open until God shall send a workman after His own heart. ‘Nos numeri sumus,’—this is almost all I can say of myself. If I did not know myself a little better than I did formerly, I should tell you that I had ceased altogether from placing any confidence in my repentances; but I see my heart is so full of deceit that I cannot depend on my knowledge of myself.
“You are not well! Are you, then, going to leave us, like poor Walsh? Ah! stay, and permit me to go first; that, when my soul leaves the body, you may commend it to the mercy of my Saviour. The day Mr. Walsh died, the Lord gave our brethren the spirit of supplication; and many unutterable groans were offered up for him at Spitalfields, where I was. Who shall render us the same kind offices? Is not our hour near? O, my God, when Thou comest, prepare us, and we shall be ready! You owe your children an elegy on Mr. Walsh’s death, and you cannot employ your poetic talents on a better subject.”[41]
In this interesting letter, Fletcher prayed for success at West Street Chapel, even if the success was limited to “only one soul.” His prayer was answered. At this period, there lived, in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, Owen and Alice Price, natives of Dolgelly, in North Wales. One of their four children was named Mary, and was now fifteen years of age. In 1750, when an earthquake alarmed all London, little Mary was at school. The house in which the school was kept undulated; several windows were broken; the children were thrown down on their faces; and a hoarse rumbling noise was heard for nearly a minute. Mary resolved, henceforth, to serve her Maker. She read the Bible; she prayed; but she was not happy. Some one recommended her to attend the preaching of the Methodists; but she hesitated to do this, because the Methodists were despised, and her parents were opposed to enthusiasts. At length, Mary went to the chapel in West Street, Seven Dials. It was on a Sunday morning; and in those days Methodist meeting-houses were crowded on Sunday mornings, at nine o’clock. Mary made her way down the aisle; the minister, who was reading the prayers, she had never seen before; but his manner, his tones, and the glancing of his eyes, were irresistibly affecting. The minister was Fletcher, and there and then Mary resolved to be a Methodist. The preaching and praying of Fletcher were greatly blessed to her soul’s profit; and, after a severe struggle, she took courage to stay, at the close of the public service, to receive the sacrament. At that period in the history of Methodism, no one was allowed to remain who had not a society ticket, or a note from the officiating minister; and, accordingly, the faithful steward told the Welsh maiden she must either go to the vestry for a note, or quit the chapel. She went, and, with fear and trembling, asked Fletcher’s permission to remain. “Come,” cried he, “come, my dear young friend, come, and receive the memorials of your dying Lord. If sin is your burden, behold the Crucified. Partake of His broken body and shed blood, and sink into the bottomless ocean of His love.” Of course, Mary stayed. For three months afterwards, she sought the Lord diligently in the means of grace; and then, under a sermon preached by Thomas Maxfield, found peace with God, through faith in Jesus Christ. In 1782, Mary Price married Peter Kruse; Wesley appointed her to be the leader of a class at City Road, where she and her husband worshipped; and, after being a godly Methodist for fifty-nine years, she peacefully expired, Joseph Benson preaching her funeral sermon, and her corpse being interred in the burial-ground behind the City Road Chapel.[42]
Another convert may be mentioned here. Richard Hill (afterwards Sir Richard) was the eldest son of Sir Rowland Hill, the first baronet of a distinguished and ancient family.family. Richard was now twenty-seven years of age. From childhood, he had been blest with the strivings of God’s Holy Spirit, and of late had been unutterably anxious about his soul. He writes:—
“About October, 1757, I set myself to work with all the earnestness of a poor perishing mariner, who is every moment in expectation of shipwreck. I fasted, prayed, and meditated. I read the Scriptures, communicated, and gave much alms. But these things brought no peace to my soul; on the contrary, I saw, what I had never seen before, that all my works were mixed with sin and imperfection. My terrors increased, insomuch that I could neither eat nor sleep, and did not think it possible for me to live a week. Everybody observed how ill I looked, and I had much ado to conceal the straits I was in from all about me. After having suffered in this manner a short time, I made my case known to a clergyman; but all he said to me—which indeed was not much to the purpose—had little or no effect. What to do I knew not. Alas! I had no acquaintance with any one who seemed to have the least experience in such a case as mine. Those about me showed the greatest concern for my situation, and offered their remedies for my relief, such as company, physic, and exercise, which, in order to oblige them, I complied with; but my disorder was not to be removed by these carnal quackeries. What I wanted was a skilful physician for my soul; but where to find such an one I knew not.
“I recollected, however, that once, if not oftener, the Rev. Mr. Fletcher, then tutor to two neighbouring young gentlemen, had, in my hearing, been spoken of in a very disrespectful manner, for things which seemed to me to savour of a truly Christian spirit. I, therefore, determined to make my case known to him, and, accordingly, wrote him a letter, without mentioning my name, giving him some account of my situation, and begging him, for God’s sake, to meet me that very night at an inn at Salop, in which place I then was. Though Mr. Fletcher had four or five miles to walk, yet he came punctually to the appointment, spoke to me in a very comfortable manner, and gave me to understand that he had very different thoughts of my state from what I had myself. After our discourse, he went to prayer with me, and, among the other petitions that he put up in my behalf, he prayed that I might not trust in my own righteousness; an expression the import of which I scarcely knew.
“After“After my conversation with Mr. Fletcher, I was rather easier; but this decrease of my terrors was of short duration. I allowed that the promises he would have me apply to myself belonged to the generality of sinners, but I thought they were not intended for me. I, therefore, wrote again to Mr. Fletcher, telling him that, however others might take comfort from the Scripture promises, I feared none of them belonged to me. I told him also, that I found my heart to be exceeding hard and wicked; and that, as all my duties proceeded from a dread of punishment, and not from the principles of faith and love, and were withal so very defective, I thought it was impossible God should ever accept them. In answer to this, the kind and sympathising Mr. Fletcher immediately wrote me a sweet and comfortable letter, telling me that the perusal of the account I had given him had caused him to shed tears of joy, because he saw the Lord had convinced me of the insufficiency of all my own doings to justify me before God, and of the necessity of a saving faith in the blood of Jesus. He also sent me ‘The Life and Death of Mr. Thomas Halyburton,’ which book I read with greatest eagerness.”
After this, Sir Richard Hill proceeds to relate how he found peace with God on February 18, 1758; then how he relapsed into doubts and fears, and lost all his comfort; and then how he wrote to Fletcher in April, 1759, and said:—
“My soul is again bowed down under the sense of the wrath of God. The broken law, with all its thunderings and lightnings, again stares me in the face. My hope seems to be giving up the ghost, and I see nothing before me but blackness and darkness for ever.”
Of course Fletcher replied to this letter. Before long, Sir Richard regained his lost faith and peace, and ever afterwards went on his way rejoicing.[43]
Thus, to an important extent, was Fletcher used in the conversion of the distinguished man, who, a few years later, became one of his sturdiest opponents in the great Calvinian controversy.
In the middle of June, 1759, Mr. Hill, M.P., and his family left London for Shropshire, and, of course, Fletcher went with them. Up to the time of his departure, Fletcher continued to preach in Wesley’s London chapels; but, in writing to Charles Wesley, under the date of June 1, he remarks, with his characteristic humbleness: “I am“I am here umbra pro corpore. I preach as your substitute; come, and fill worthily an office of which I am unworthy.”[44]
At Tern Hall, Fletcher again enjoyed his beloved retirement, and gave himself up to study, meditation, and prayer. Indeed, his whole life was now a life of prayer. “Wherever we met,” says Mr. Vaughan, “if we were alone, his first salute was, ‘Do I meet you praying?’ And, if we were conversing on any point of Divinity, he would often break off abruptly, and ask, ‘Where are our hearts now’”now’”[45] Solitude, however, is often invaded by Satan. It was in the garden, where were only two human beings, that the devil gained his first victory on earth; and it was in “the wilderness” that man’s Redeemer was pre-eminently tempted by the same accursed enemy. The following, addressed to Charles Wesley, is a strange, but honest and instructive production.
“My Dear Sir,—Instead of apologizing for my silence, I will tell you that I have twenty times endeavoured to break it, but without effect. I will simply state the cause of it.
“This is the fourth summer that I have been brought hither, in a peculiar manner, to be tempted of the devil in a wilderness; and I have improved so little by my past exercises, that I have not defended myself better than in the first year. Being arrived here, I began to spend my time as I had determined; one part in prayer, and the other in meditation on the Holy Scriptures. The Lord blessed my devotions, and I advanced from conquering to conquer, leading every thought captive to the obedience of Jesus Christ, when it pleased God to show me some of the folds of my heart. As I looked for nothing less than such a discovery, I was extremely surprised; so much so as to forget Christ. You may judge what was the consequence. A spiritual languor seized on all the powers of my soul, and I suffered myself to be carried away quietly by a current, with the rapidity of which I was unacquainted.
“Neither doubt nor despair troubled me for a moment; my temptation took another course. It appeared to me that God would be much more glorified by my damnation than by my salvation. It seemed altogether incompatible with the holiness, the justice, and the veracity of the Supreme Being to admit so stubborn an offender into His presence. I could do nothing but be astonished at the patience of God; and I would willingly have sung those verses of Desbaraux if I had had strength:—
“Do not imagine, however, that I was in a state of evangelical repentance. No: a man who repents desires to be saved; but I desired it not. I was even impatient to go to my own place; and secretly wished that God would for a moment give me the exercise of His iron sceptre to break myself to pieces as a vessel to dishonour. A bitter and cruel zeal against myself, and all the sinners who were with me, filled all my thoughts and all my desires. The devil, who well knew how to improve the opportunity, blew, without ceasing, the sparks of some corruptions, which I thought were extinguished, or at the point of being so, till at last the fire began to appear without. This opened my eyes, and I felt it was time to implore succour.
“It is now eight days since I endeavoured to pray, but almost without success. Yesterday, however, as I sang one of your hymns, the Lord lifted up my head, and commanded me to face my enemies. By His grace I am already a conqueror; and I doubt not that I shall soon be more than conqueror.
“Although I deserve it not, nevertheless hold up my hands till all these Amalekites be put to flight.
Certainly this was strange, perhaps unparalleled experience. Paul wrote, “I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh.” John Fletcher seemed to wish for this, that God might be glorified. “A fit of melancholy,” says the reader; “almost insanity.” That, however, is sooner said than proved. Fletcher had a great work to do, and, as in the case of his Divine Master, temptations helped to prepare him for it. Weeks after the date of the foregoing letter, he continued to write bitter things against himself. The following letter has not before been published; it was addressed “to Mrs. Ryan, at the Room in the Horse-Fair, Bristol:”—
“My Sister,—I have often been with you in spirit, desiring to follow you as you follow Christ; and I trust you have put up some petitions for me, that I may not run in vain, but may at last apprehend that for which I am apprehended.
“I have been taught many lessons—by man, self, and Satan—since I saw you, but doubt I am not much nearer wisdom, unless it is in this point—that I am more foolish in my own eyes. I groan to be so often diverted from the pursuit of the one thing needful; but unfaithfulness, levity, unbelief, taint those groans, and make me question their sincerity and mine. Will you try once more to spur me out of my haltings? Send me an account of the struggles you went through before you found rest. What degree of joy, fear, hope, sorrow, doubting, fervency or coldness of desire in soul and body—waking, working, and sleeping?
“Remember me to Miss Furley.[48] Were I less averse to writing, I would have written to her, to beg her not to faint at any time, but be a zealous follower of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises; but I trust she does not want the advice as often as I do. Let me know how she does in the Lord and in the flesh, and desire her to remember me at the throne of grace. Adieu.
Charles Wesley proposed that, during the ensuing Parliamentary session, Fletcher should be paid for his services in the London chapels. In the same spirit of self-abasement as is displayed in the foregoing letters, Fletcher replied as follows:—
“My Dear Sir,—A few days ago, the Lord gave me two or three lessons on poverty of spirit, but, alas! how have I forgotten them! I saw, I felt, that I was entirely void of wisdom and virtue. I was ashamed of myself; and I could say, with a degree of feeling which I cannot describe, ‘Nil ago; nil habeo; sum nil; in pulvero serpo.’ I could then say what Gregory Lopez was enabled to say at all times, ‘There is no man of whom I have not a better opinion than of myself.’ I could have placed myself under the feet of the most atrocious sinner, and have acknowledged him for a saint in comparison of myself. If ever I am humble and patient, if ever I enjoy solid peace of mind, it must be in this very spirit. Ah! why do I not find these virtues? Because I am filled with self-sufficiency, which blinds me and hinders me from doing justice to my own demerits. O pray that the spirit of Jesus may remove these scales from my eyes for ever, and compel me to retire into my own nothingness.
“To what a monstrous idea had you well-nigh given birth. What! the labours of my ministry under you deserve a salary! I, who have done nothing but dishonour God hitherto, and am not in a condition to do anything else for the future! If, then, I am permitted to stand in the courts of the Lord’s house, is it not for me to make an acknowledgment, rather than to receive one? If I ever receive anything of the Methodist Church, it shall be only as an indigent mendicant receives alms, without which he would perish. Such were some of the thoughts which passed through my mind with regard to the proposal you made to me in London; and I doubt whether my own vanity, or your goodness, will be able to efface the impressions they have left.
“I have great need of your advice relative to the letters which I receive from my relations, who unite in their invitations to me to return to my own country. One says, to settle my affairs there; another, to preach there; a third, to assist him to die. They press me to declare whether I renounce my family, and the demands I have upon it. My mother, in the strongest terms, commands me at least to go and see her. What answer shall I make? If she thought as you do, I should write to her, ‘Ubi Christiani, ibi patria;’ ‘my mother, my brethren, my sisters, are those who do the will of my heavenly Father;’ but she is not in a state of mind to digest such an answer. I have no inclination to yield to their desires, which appear to me merely natural, for I should lose precious time and incur expense. My presence is not absolutely necessary to my concerns; and it is more probable that my relations will pervert me to vanity and interest, than that I shall convert them to genuine Christianity. Lastly, I should have no opportunity to exercise my ministry. Our Swiss ministers, who preach only once a week, would not look upon me with a more favourable eye than the ministers here, and would only cause me either to be laid in prison or to be immediately banished from the country.
“Permit me to thank you for the sentence from Kempis, with which you close your letter, by returning you another. ‘You run no risk in considering yourself as the wickedest of men, but you are in danger if you prefer yourself to any one.’”[49]
A fortnight later, Fletcher wrote again to Charles Wesley as follows:—