Fletcher of Madeley Part 10

_LAST YEARS._

On the first Sunday after bringing his wife to her new home, Fletcher took her into the kitchen, where, according to hospitable custom, a number of poor people were taking dinner between the morning and afternoon services, and introduced her to them, saying, "I have not married a wife for myself only, but for your sakes also." This was true, both in his intention and in the result.

In marrying Miss Bosanquet, and bringing her to Madeley, Fletcher conferred upon his parish a benefit second only to that of his own life-devotion to its welfare. During the remainder of his ministry he was sustained and supplemented in his labours by one whose qualifications were, in their sphere, little inferior to his own. She had been accustomed for many years to the direction of a large household, to the training of children and young people, to ministering to the sick and suffering. She understood the wants and ways of the poor. In these and similar respects she was exceptionally fitted to be the wife of a clergyman. The vicarage was no longer a hermitage; it was a home, a centre to which many came for help and guidance, spiritual and temporal, and from which innumerable ministries of kindness flowed out on every side. But it was in the very highest aspects of her husband's work that Mrs. Fletcher's co-operation was at once the most complete and the most valuable. Her ministry could not confine itself to the bodily and temporal welfare of the people. She too had a deep and pa.s.sionate longing for the salvation of souls. To lead her poor and suffering to Christ was the one philanthropy, to which all other charities were as nothing. Toward all kinds of need her heart was full of pity, and her hand quick in bounty; but it was for the soul in each, the soul redeemed by the infinite love of G.o.d, and called to the possession of an unspeakably glorious salvation in Christ, that she was most profoundly moved. Sin was the one evil; salvation the one blessing; Christ the one Saviour. This conviction, burning with a pure, steady light and heat, ruled her work from first to last. Fletcher found in her, not only a loving wife, but a kindred spirit. They viewed personal religion under the same aspects; they were likeminded in their belief concerning the "salvation to the uttermost" that is procured by Christ, and administered by the Holy Spirit. The instinct that speaks of "the saintly Fletcher" gives the same designation to his wife. With her, as with him, Christian perfection--a term which many theological systems will not admit, and the majority of Christians persistently shun--was a chosen watchword. Their letters, journals, and devotional writings, and the lives they were enabled to live, show that for them "death unto sin and life unto G.o.d in Jesus Christ" was, not merely "forensic," an "imputation," with nothing corresponding to it in the sphere of experience, but included entire consecration to G.o.d, and the unhindered indwelling of the Holy Spirit. In aspiration, profession, life, the same high utterance was repeated in different but harmonious notes--"perfect in Christ"; always laying more stress upon "in Christ"

than upon "perfect," yet not shrinking from that term, as having New Testament authority and significance.

For thirty years after Fletcher's death his widow was to remain in Madeley, a presence and a power for good; and it is this part of her life and labours by which she is chiefly remembered. There are, indeed, few pictures, in modern Christian history at least, more impressive than that in which she is the central figure, a saintly woman of great and varied gifts, in whom Quaker-like calmness and self-control were joined with Methodist fervour, for a whole generation a preacher of the gospel and a witness for Christ among the people of Madeley and the neighbourhood. The following description of her labours was written by an eye-witness[13] of them:

"Surviving her husband many years, 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, a.s.signing as his reason that she knew better than himself what would suit and benefit the paris.h.i.+oners.

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 thence, 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 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 a.s.sembled 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."

Returning now to the story of Fletcher's life, we feel that there was "something like prophetic strain" in the words with which he introduced his wife to his people: "I have not married a wife for myself only, but for your sakes also."

Soon after their settlement at Madeley they had a short visit from Wesley. It was near the end of March, but the rough, deep roads were blocked with snow, and it required four horses to drag his chaise from Bridgenorth. Wesley preached twice to crowded congregations, and a.s.sisted Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher to form a Christian society. Probably this part of Fletcher's work had been injured by his long absence, as we find frequent mention of such societies in the parish several years before. He lamented the decay of these means of grace, and sought Wesley's help in reviving them. This was a matter in which Wesley had unique authority and influence. In the afternoon service he therefore "enforced the necessity of Christian fellows.h.i.+p on all who desired either to awake or keep awake. He then desired those who were willing to join together for this purpose to call upon him and Mr. Fletcher after service. Ninety-four or ninety-five persons did so; about as many men as women. They explained to them the nature of a Christian society, and they willingly joined therein."

Three months later, Mrs. Fletcher wrote to Wesley: "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, ...

and on the whole there is a good increase of freedom and liberty in our cla.s.s-meetings....

"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 Yorks.h.i.+re."

Mrs. Fletcher accompanied her husband in his preaching excursions and visits to the religious societies within reach. She rode with him through the rain, and stood by his side, "where there was neither house nor church to cover them," while he preached to a large congregation who listened with "Yorks.h.i.+re attention." It was not all smooth and easy work even now, among the ruder and more ignorant part of the people. On one occasion he writes: "I got many a hearty curse from the colliers for the plain words I spoke.... Had I searched the three kingdoms, I could not have found one brother willing to share gratis my weal, woe, and labours, and complaisant enough to unite his fortunes to mine; but G.o.d has found me a partner, _a sister_, _a wife_, to use St. Paul's language, who is not afraid to face with me the colliers and bargemen of my parish until death part us."

The organization of Sunday schools was, at this time, being warmly taken up by the Methodists, and by many of the clergy. Raikes established the first of his Sunday schools in Gloucester in the year 1781; but a Miss Hannah Ball, of High Wycombe, a member of the Methodist society, had established one in 1769, and probably there were also others. Though Wesley had nothing to do with originating them, he early perceived in them a great promise and possibility of good, and encouraged their formation throughout his societies. His "Journal" has this reference to them: "_July 18th, 1784._ I find these schools springing up wherever I go. Perhaps G.o.d may have a deeper end therein than men are aware of. Who knows but some of these schools may become nurseries for Christians?" At Bolton, three or four years later, he met "between nine hundred and a thousand of the children belonging to our Sunday-schools. I never saw such a sight before. They were all exactly clean, as well as plain, in their apparel. All were serious and well-behaved. Many, both boys and girls, had as beautiful faces as, I believe, England or Europe can afford. When they all sang together, and none of them out of tune, the melody was beyond that of any theatre; and what is the best of all, many of them truly fear G.o.d, and some rejoice in His salvation."

In common with Wesley, Fletcher was much impressed with the Sunday-school system as it was developing throughout the country. For some years he had maintained a day school, but he now entered vigorously upon the work of organizing Sunday schools. He issued an address to his people setting forth the evils arising from the profanation of the Lord's day, and from neglecting to educate children in the principles and practice of religion. He referred to the vices by which society was degraded and injured, and asked if nothing could be done to check these growing evils. After noticing the example set in Stroud, Gloucester, Birmingham, Manchester, and many country parishes, he described a plan for establis.h.i.+ng Sunday schools in the parish of Madeley. He proposed that the children should be taught reading, writing, and the principles of religion; that each teacher should be paid one s.h.i.+lling per Sunday; that inspectors should be appointed to visit the schools, to see that the children attended regularly, and the masters did their duty; that the schools be solemnly visited once or twice a year, and a premium given to the children that have made the greatest improvement. On these proposals, subsequently modified and developed, Sunday schools were established in Madeley, and another powerful agency for benefiting his paris.h.i.+oners was brought into existence.

The labours of many years had, indeed, begun to tell, not only on individuals, but on the general tone and character of the community.

Vice was checked and restrained; the people were better disposed towards religion; the standard of morals was raised; the conversion of notorious evil doers made its impression upon the conscience of the careless and profane; something like a general reformation had taken place in the parish, and the progress of religion and morality was now further aided by the regular religious instruction of the young. Love for children was characteristic of Fletcher all through life. He was never happier than when amongst them. Before his Sunday-school was opened, he used to meet some two or three hundred of them on a Thursday evening, and he continued to do so to the very week in which his last illness began. As a result of this, a loving remembrance of him remained in the neighbourhood where he had lived much longer than is usually the case, even with the best of men. The image of his person and character, stamped upon the hearts of children, was found sixty, seventy years afterwards, in the hearts of aged men and women.

Among the young people over whom Fletcher exercised a powerful and lasting influence was Melville Horne, who was introduced to him when seventeen years of age. At their first interview a deep impression was made upon the youth's mind, and he afterwards sought every opportunity of being in Fletcher's company. At the vicarage he came to be treated almost as a son. He subsequently received ordination, and, upon Fletcher's death, became curate of Madeley. When far advanced in life he would refer with deep feeling to his early intercourse with Fletcher. He says: "I know not which most to venerate, his public or private character. Grave and dignified in his deportment and manners, he yet excelled in all the courtesies and attentions 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, attuned to the Master's touch.... In every view, he was a great man, and ent.i.tled to rank in the very first cla.s.s of ministers; but it was his _goodness_ that raised him above all the ministers of his day."

In August, 1783, Fletcher and his wife visited Ireland. They had received a pressing invitation from the Methodists of Dublin to come over and spend a few weeks there, and help them in the good work. As long as it seemed possible to decline the invitation they had done so; but the requests were so urgent that it seemed to them at last that this was a call from G.o.d. Fletcher's health at the time was not good, and on various grounds they both shrank from so long and formidable a journey; but the conviction that it was G.o.d's will settled the matter.

On the day they set out they rode to Shrewsbury, paying a tribute of love and reverence to the memory of Richard Baxter as they pa.s.sed through the village of Eaton Constantine, his early home. The next day they reached Llangollen, where, for want of a change of horses, they were detained for the night. A few persons who could understand English came together next morning, and Fletcher preached to them before resuming his journey.

They remained about six weeks in Dublin, and their labours were made a great blessing to many. Fletcher preached with his accustomed unction and power. His host, a gentleman of position and influence in the city, applied to the rector of the parish in which he lived to allow Mr.

Fletcher to preach in his church, and this was immediately granted. The church was crowded to excess. The congregation was greatly moved; but when it became known that he had preached on the evening of the same day at the Methodist chapel, all the churches were at once closed against him, with the exception of the Huguenot French church. Here he preached, both in French and in English. Even when he preached in French, people who could not understand a word would be present. "We go to look at him," they said, "for heaven seems to beam from his countenance." In addition to his public labours Fletcher met the members of the society in private, and exhorted and counselled them to their great comfort. Mrs. Fletcher met the cla.s.ses of women. A great revival of religion followed. The Methodist society increased in numbers from about five hundred persons to upwards of a thousand, and the spiritual life of many was deepened and enriched.

When Fletcher was about to leave them the grateful people pressed him to accept a sum of money in payment of his expenses. This he entirely refused to accept, until being pressed in such a manner that further refusal seemed impossible, he consented to receive it on condition that he might dispose of it as he pleased. To this they readily agreed, and every penny of it was given to their own poor people before Fletcher and his wife left Dublin. A letter warmly thanking them for "your labour of love in crossing the sea to visit us, and your spending body and soul for our profit while among us," was signed by one hundred and fifty-one members of the Dublin Methodist society, and sent after them to Madeley. The pa.s.sage from Dublin to Holyhead was a stormy one, but they reached their home at last in peace.

Fletcher attended one more Conference with Wesley and his preachers. It was held in Leeds in July, 1784. The great Methodist leader was now in his eighty-second year. He wrote to a friend: "When I was young I had weak eyes, trembling hands, and abundance of infirmities. But, by the blessing of G.o.d, I have outlived them all." He laboured as hard as ever. In one respect only he spared himself; instead of riding on horseback he now made use of a travelling carriage. He still considered preaching at five o'clock in the morning the healthiest exercise in the world. He was able to preach three times a day, and address large crowds out of doors, and, when making his way to Inverness, could trudge through heavy rain twelve miles on foot. In every part of England, and very widely in Ireland and Scotland, he was better known than any other public man, and, with few exceptions, universally respected and loved. The nation had come to be proud of him. His appearance was venerable and beautiful in the extreme. The people flocked to see, as well as to hear him. He was saluted in the streets as he pa.s.sed along, and children would run and kneel before him to receive his blessing.

Wesley had particular reasons for inviting Fletcher to attend the Conference. It was an anxious time with him. He had recently executed an important deed--known as the Deed of Declaration,--in which he had named one hundred of his preachers to const.i.tute the legal Conference after his death. In this body of preachers, which had power to fill up all vacancies in its number, was vested all legal authority requisite for the admission and expulsion of preachers, the appointment of preachers to their stations; and, in various other respects, the Conference was invested with the powers. .h.i.therto possessed and exercised by Wesley himself. This deed has proved a firm foundation for the polity of the Methodists to this day. It underlies and sustains the various developments that have since taken place. It has been called Methodism's Magna Charta. Wesley himself deemed it "a foundation likely to stand as long as the sun and moon endure."

But it was not established without difficulty. There were heartburnings amongst the preachers. Of those who were not included in the "legal hundred" some were grieved, others were indignant. They could not understand on what principle Wesley had made his selection. They resented the preference shown to some, and the pa.s.sing over of others among their brethren. Many of the trustees were alarmed, thinking that their powers in respect of the chapel property were imperilled. The unity of the Methodist connexion was seriously threatened, and the approaching Conference was antic.i.p.ated with much anxiety. When the Conference a.s.sembled, Wesley proved himself once more equal to the occasion. His tact, his wise reasonableness, his weight of character, his transparent good faith prevailed, but it was well that he was sustained in such a crisis by the presence of Fletcher. In prospect of a heated controversy, all hope of a happy issue lay in calling forth what was deepest and best in the good men who had come together.

Wesley knew that beneath the irritation and resentment of the hour was a depth of Christian principle to which appeal might hopefully be made.

On the Sunday evening before the opening of the Conference the congregation that a.s.sembled to hear Wesley was so much larger than the chapel could contain, that they adjourned to a neighbouring field, where Wesley preached a sermon on the judgment day. Early next morning Fletcher was the preacher, and his text was, "Ye are the salt of the earth." Morning and evening, during the session of the Conference, there was a sermon by Wesley, Fletcher, or one of the more eminent preachers. At the sacramental service Wesley was a.s.sisted by Fletcher, c.o.ke, and other clergymen. In a sermon on "the man of G.o.d who was disobedient to the word of the Lord," Fletcher drew such a picture of the degradation and misery of a backsliding minister, and of the injury he inflicted upon the Church of Christ, as produced a deep and general sensation. One of his hearers reports: "I was extremely impressed with the whole service; the shadow of the Divine presence was seen among us, and His going forth was in our sanctuary."

The debate on the Deed of Declaration was the sharpest the Conference had ever known. Fletcher was greatly affected. Before the first streak of dawn his wife heard him praying fervently for the peace and prosperity of Zion, and when she gently urged him to go to rest, he answered, "The cause of G.o.d lies near my heart." During the discussion Fletcher "took much pains,"--to use Wesley's words. This matter-of-fact expression conveys little notion of the tender, impa.s.sioned way in which Fletcher laboured to heal the strife and prevent a schism.

"Never," says a preacher who was present, "shall I forget the ardour and earnestness with which Mr. Fletcher expostulated, even on his knees, both with Mr. Wesley and the preachers. To the former he said, 'My father! my father! they have offended; but they are your children!'

To the latter he exclaimed, 'My brethren! my brethren! he is your father!' And then, pourtraying the work in which they were unitedly engaged, he fell again on his knees, and with fervour and devotion engaged in prayer. The Conference was bathed in tears, many sobbed aloud."

At the close of the Conference Fletcher returned to Madeley, and resumed his quiet, pastoral life. Even yet Wesley was not quite satisfied at Fletcher's "hiding his light under a bushel" in his country parish. But the Vicar of Madeley knew his vocation, and abided by it. He wrote to his friend Mr. Ireland: "I keep in my sentry-box till Providence remove me; my situation is quite suited to my little strength. I may do as much or as little as I please, according to my weakness. And I have an advantage which I can have nowhere else in such a degree: my little field of action is just at my door; so that if I happen to overdo myself, I have but a step from my pulpit to my bed, and from my bed to my grave.... The snail does best in its sh.e.l.l; were it to aim at galloping, like the racehorse, it would be ridiculous indeed. My wife is quite of my mind with respect to the call we have to a sedentary life."

Among the latest acquaintances made by Fletcher was that with Charles Simeon, of Cambridge, then a young and zealous clergyman just coming into note, and afterwards, for so long a period, the leader of the Evangelical party in the university. Simeon preached in Madeley church, Fletcher himself previously going through the village, bell in hand, to announce that a young clergyman from Cambridge was about to preach, and urging the people to come to the church.

It does not appear that there was at this time any noticeable failure of strength, or appearance of dangerous symptoms; but, in truth, his hold of life was very feeble, his vital force was almost spent. It was often in his thoughts that death was near. Life had never been so sweet to him as it was now; but death too,

"Dear, beauteous death, the jewel of the just,"

was none the less the crowning mercy for which he waited. To few men has death been so disarmed beforehand as to Fletcher.

Among the Evangelical leaders there was now, indeed, a swift succession of departures. These "companions in tribulation, and in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ," were [Greek: epekteinomenoi], "reaching forth unto" that which was before them, and one after another "attained," and was made perfect. Early in May, 1785, Vincent Perronet, the venerable Vicar of Sh.o.r.eham, died in the ninety-second year of his age. Charles Wesley buried him, and preached his funeral sermon. He himself was, in much feebleness, awaiting his summons, and asked for Fletcher's prayers, saying, "Help me to depart in peace." He had yet three years to wait for his release.

It has been supposed that the letter, dated May 24th, 1785, in which these words occur, was the last that Fletcher received from his old and faithful friend. We are able, however, to supply a hitherto unpublished letter four weeks later in date, which is, pretty certainly, the last of the series. As will be seen, it consists in reality of three letters, one to Mrs. Fletcher, one to her and her husband conjointly, and one to Fletcher alone. They are written, however, continuously, on one sheet of paper. The fears and forebodings to which he gives expression are familiar to all who are acquainted with the history of Methodism. It will be remembered that the question of a successor to Wesley had been mentioned several years before; Charles Wesley joining with his brother in designating Fletcher to that office, and Fletcher declining it, and urging in return that, in the event of John Wesley's decease, the leaders.h.i.+p must naturally devolve upon Charles. The latter had now made up his mind that nothing could save the Methodist societies from falling to pieces as soon as he and his brother should be removed, events that could not be far distant.

"LONDON, _June 21st, 1785_.

"MY DEAR SISTER,--

"If you are weary of writing, I much more, who have almost lost the use of my hand and eyes. You owe _me_ no thanks for _my_ care of you. The care of all the Churches has lain upon my brother.

"We agree in our 'willingness to be hid and forgotten.'

Surely I have been _thrust out_ into the harvest. If I am saved, let my memorial perish.

"When we get to the other side we shall know all; till then our life must continue a mystery.

"Your partner was certainly given to the prayers of the people; therefore he is their debtor so long as he lives.

"Don't you know poets are all envious? Yet you challenge me, who never ventured at an acrostic in all my life.

"If you saw 'Sam in the cradle,' you saw him in his best estate. One out of them has some desire of salvation, but she seeks rather than strives.

"My wife and I are quite willing 'to come and see you at Madeley,' but our way is hid. It is most probable that if we ever meet again, it should be in London or Bristol. Let us help each other by our prayers at least. You will not, I know, forget your old, useless, but still affectionate servant and friend,

"C. W.

"This side is for you _both_.

"I trust you are resigned (after mine and my brother's departure) to gather up the wreck. Be sure the sheep will be scattered. All the beasts of the forest are waiting for them. Many will find shelter among the Moravians; many will turn to the Calvinists, Baptists, Presbyterians, and Quakers. Most, I hope, will return to the bosom of their mother, the Church of England. Not one, but several sects will arise, _and Methodism will be broken into a thousand pieces_.

"It is impossible for you to know _now_, or to divine, or to conjecture what you are intended for. Therefore the less you think about it the better, for we penetrate, we prophesy, in vain. You must stand still, and see the design and the salvation of G.o.d.

"Had I a sufficient body, I would strive to visit you, that we might compare our thoughts. So far I _can_ see, that the Lord is preparing His people for some great event. But who shall live when the Lord doth this? I am far entered on my last stage, and expect every month to be my last. Providence (if you survive me) will call you to this place. My widow can tell you my mind, if worth your knowing, and show you my posthumous papers, if worth your seeing.