Fletcher of Madeley and His Ministry — Chapter II

Ministerial Labours at Madeley—Superintendent of Trevecca College, 1768—Resigns Trevecca, 1771—Laid aside by ill health, 1776—Goes to Clifton, Newington, and Switzerland—Returns to Madeley, 1781—Marries—Dies, 1785—His Preaching—Writing—Private Character—Testimony of Wesley and Venn.

THE position of a parish clergyman in the Church of England who does his duty, is one of peculiar difficulties and discouragements. He has not to deal with a voluntary congregation, whose members have no connection with him beyond that of free choice and inclination. He has the nominal charge of all who reside within certain territorial boundaries, and, whether they like him or not, in the eye of the law he is bound to do what he can for their souls.

The larger the population of an English parish, the greater are the English clergyman’s difficulties. Many a clergyman finds himself placed in the midst of dense masses of people whose spiritual necessities he is utterly unable to overtake. He sees around him hundreds of immortal souls continually passing out of time into eternity—ignorant, immoral, without God, without Christ, and without hope—and yet has neither time nor strength to get at half of them! A position like this is dreadfully trying and crushing to the spirit of a conscientious man. Yet this is the position in which Fletcher found himself at Madeley. Who can wonder that at first he felt sorely cast down, and half inclined to think, with Wesley, that he had mistaken his calling?

These first feelings of discouragement, however, gradually passed away. Little by little he became fitted to his post, and saw clearly that he was where God would have him be. Once settled down in his work at Madeley, he never gave it up, and for twenty-five years did the work of an evangelist among his semi-heathen parishioners in a way that few have ever equalled, and none probably have surpassed. No other cure ever tempted him away. Where he began his ministry, there he ended it. Madeley was his first charge, and Madeley was his last.

The machinery which Fletcher used in doing his work at Madeley was very simple and apostolic. He was instant in season and out of season, always “preaching the Word.” Publicly in church, privately from house to house, by the roadside, in the fields, at the coal-pit mouth, he was continually lifting up his voice, and “ teaching and preaching Jesus Christ.” He counted the day lost in which he was not actually employed in doing his Master’s business. A warfare of holy aggression on sin and Satan’s kingdom was constantly kept up throughout the district, and no one was let alone. So great indeed was his zeal, that people who were determined to have their sins agreed to lock their doors, and refuse him admission. Like Ahab, they hated him because he did not speak good of their condition, but evil. Even John Wesley, who thought him wrong in going to Madeley, bore this testimony to his work: “ From the beginning of his settling there, he was a laborious workman in the Lord’s vineyard, endeavouring to spread the truth of the gospel and to suppress vice in every possible way. Those sinners who tried to hide themselves from him he pursued to every corner of his parish, by all sorts of means, public and private, early and late, in season and out of season, entreating and warning them to flee from the wrath to come. Some made it an excuse for not attending the church service on a Sunday morning, that they could not awake early enough to get their families ready. He provided for this also. Taking a bell in his hand, he set out every Sunday for some months at five in the morning, and went round the most distant parts of the parish inviting all the inhabitants to the house of God.”

He found abundance of organized wickedness in his neglected, overgrown parish. It was a common thing for young men and women to meet in large bodies on stated evenings for what they called “recreation.” This recreation usually consisted in dancing, drinking, revelling, and immorality, and continued all night. Against these licentious assemblies Fletcher resolutely set his face, and used every exertion to put them down. He would often burst suddenly into the room where the disorderly company were assembled, rebuke the thoughtless revellers with a holy indignation, and beard Satan in his high places. Nor was his labour altogether in vain in this unpromising field. After standing the first outbursts of rudeness and brutality, he generally found his exhortations received with silent submission; and in some cases he had the comfort of seeing a reformation in the behaviour of the revellers.

Cases of sickness in a mining district like Madeley were necessarily very frequent, and coal-pit accidents, we need not doubt, were very many and often fatal. In attending such cases Fletcher was peculiarly zealous and indefatigable. “It was a work,” says Wesley, “for which he was always ready. If he heard a knock at his door in the coldest winter night, his window was thrown open in a moment. And when he understood that some one was hurt in a pit, or that a neighbour was likely to die, no consideration was ever had of the darkness of the night or the severity of the weather. One answer was always given: ‘I will attend you immediately.’”

“Tn all labour there is profit.” It will not surprise any Christian to hear that Fletcher’s labours at Madeley produced an immense effect on many souls. At first, indeed, he seemed to labour in vain, and to spend his strength for nothing. People were not converted in masses, and all at once. But gradually a large number of hearers were led by the Spirit to Christ, and became witnesses for God in the midst of the sin and darkness around them. With success, no doubt, came opposition and persecution of no common kind. This, however, will not surprise any Bible-reading Christian. Satan will never allow his kingdom to be pulled down without a mighty struggle, and never is his wrath so great as when he sees he has but “a short time.” Let a great and effectual door be opened to the gospel, and there will never fail to be ‘ many adversaries.” It is an invariable mark of a real work of God, that it is carried on “through much persecution.”

One Sunday, for instance, after doing his usual duty at Madeley, Fletcher was on the point of going to a place called Madeley Wood, to preach and catechise. But, just as he was setting out, he received a sudden notice that a child was to be buried, and had to wait for the funeral. This waiting till the child was brought prevented his going to the Wood till some time after the appointed hour. Herein the providence of God appeared in a very remarkable manner. At the hour originally appointed for his preaching, some colliers, who neither feared God nor man, were baiting a bull just by the place where he was expected. Having had plenty to drink, they had all agreed, as soon as he came, to “bait the parson.” Part of them were then appointed to pull him off his horse, and the rest to set the dogs upon him. But in the meantime the bull broke loose, and threw down the booth in which the ringleaders were drinking, and the people were dispersed. The result was that the godly people who had come together to hear him preach were enabled to hold their meeting in quietness and safety.

To enter into all the details of Fletcher’s history during the twenty-five years of his ministry at Madeley, would be clearly impossible in the narrow limits of a brief and condensed memoir. In fact, to attempt it would be only telling the same story over and over again. Throughout this whole period, with little intermission, he was always doing one and the same thing—always preaching, always teaching, always trying to awaken sinners, always trying to build up saints; but always one and the same man, giving himself up wholly to his Master’s business. Sometimes he found time to take a few Sundays at Lady Huntingdon’s chapel at Bath. Sometimes he exchanged duties for a little season with friends, such as Mr. Sellon, at Bredon, in Leicestershire. Sometimes he wrote long controversial treatises, in defence of what he believed was Christ’s truth, against what he called Calvinism and Antinomianism. Sometimes he was entirely laid aside from work by ill health. But wherever he was, and in whatever condition, John Fletcher was unmistakably the ‘‘man of God,” always the minister of Christ, always delighting in work, always insatiably desirous to do good to souls. I find no man of the last century, whatever his defects may have been in doctrine, to whom the scriptural motto might be so justly applied, ‘‘ One thing I do.”

About the year 1768 Fletcher was invited by Lady Huntingdon to become superintendent of her Training College for young ministers at Trevecca, in Wales. He accepted this important post with the distinct understanding that he was not to be generally resident there. He felt strongly that his duty to his flock at Madeley would not admit of this. But it was settled that he should attend as often as he could, should give advice about the appointment of masters and the admission or exclusion of students, should oversee their studies and conduct, and should judge of their fitness for the work of the ministry.

Whether a native of Switzerland, who had never seen England or spoken the English language till he was twenty-one, was exactly the man to be head of a training college, may admit of some doubt. In all probability, however, Fletcher was the best man among the evangelists of the day whom Lady Huntingdon could find. His reputation as tutor to Mr. Hill’s son was probably a strong recommendation. His learning and scholarship were undeniable. His character as a holy, decided man stood very high. In short, if he were not the fittest person in the world to be principal of a college, it would not be very easy to say who, in that day, was more fit.

Fletcher, at any rate, appears to have done what he could to give the new Institution success. A letter to Lady Huntingdon, dated January 1768, gives a very favourable idea of his sound judgment. He evidently sees the materials he had to work upon, and wisely resolves not to pitch the standard of attainments required too high. He proposes to instruct all the students in grammar, logic, rhetoric, ecclesiastical history, geography, a little natural philosophy, and a great deal of practical divinity. The books he specially wishes to have in the library are,—Henry’s and Gill’s Commentaries on the Bible, Baxter's Works, Keach on Metaphors, Taylor on Types, Gurnall’s Christian Armoury, Edwards on Preaching, Wesley’s Christian Library, Usher's Body of Divinity, Scapula’s Greek Lexicon, Lyttleton’s Latin Dictionary, and Johnson’s English Dictionary. Short and scanty as this list may appear for the beginning of a college library, it cannot be denied that it was well selected, considering the times. The mention of Gill’s Commentary is also an interesting fact. It is enough to show that Fletcher’s Arminianism did not prevent him valuing the works of a thoroughly Calvinistic writer.

The best account of Fletcher’s proceedings as Principal of Trevecca is to be found in the writings of one of the undermasters; and it is so interesting, that I shall make no apology for giving it entire. He says :—‘“‘I went to reside at Trevecca in 1770. The young men whom I found there were serious, and made considerable progress in learning, and many of them seemed to have talents for the ministry. Mr. Fletcher visited us frequently, and was received as an angel of God. It is not possible for me to describe the veneration in which we all held him. Like Elijah in the school of the prophets, he was revered, he was loved, he was almost adored; and that not only by every student, but by every member of the family. And indeed he was worthy. Prayer, praise, love, and zeal, all-ardent, elevated above what we would think attainable in this state of frailty, was the element in which he continually lived. And as to others, his one employment was to call, entreat, and urge them to ascend with him to the glorious source of being and blessedness. He had leisure, comparatively, for nothing else. Languages, art, sciences, grammar, electricity, logic, even divinity itself, so-called, were all laid aside when he appeared in the school-room among the students. His full heart would not suffer him to be silent; he must speak. The students were readier to hearken to this servant and minister of Christ than to attend to Sallust, Virgil, Cicero, or any Latin or Greek historian, poet, or philosopher they had been engaged in reading. And they seldom hearkened long before they were all in tears, and every heart caught fire from the flame which burned in his soul. Such seasons generally terminated in this. Being convinced that to be filled with the Holy Ghost was a better qualification for the ministry of the gospel than any classical learning, after speaking awhile in the school-room he used often to say, ‘As many of you as are athirst for the fulness of the Spirit, follow me into my room.’ On this many of us have instantly followed him, and there continued for two or three hours, wrestling, like Jacob, for the blessing; and praying one after another, till we could not bear to kneel any longer.” I make no comment on this curious account. I dare not say that I think it would be well to be incessantly converting collegelectures into prayer-meetings. But I will not shrink from saying, that a few more head-masters of schools and principals of colleges as spiritual-minded and prayerful as the Vicar of Madeley, would be an immense blessing to the Church of Christ. Head-masters and principals too often go into the very opposite extreme from that into which Fletcher went. Too often they are cold, dry, hard, and unsympathizing, and seem to forget entirely that young men have hearts, and consciences, and souls.

Fletcher’s connection with Trevecca College only lasted three years. It came to an end in 1771, in consequence of his steady adherence to Arminian principles, and his firm determination to stand by John Wesley in matters of doctrine. He parted from the Institution on good terms with Lady Huntingdon, and without any bitterness or asperity on either side. Whether, in point of fact, there was so very much difference in doctrinal views between him and Lady Huntingdon’s party, as he supposed, is a matter on which I feel considerable doubt. At any rate, I suspect it was greatly exaggerated. There is no getting over the remarkable fact that for three years he took a leading part in the great anniversary gatherings at the college, and preached side by side with men like Whitefield, Rowlands, Berridge, and Venn. That simple fact speaks volumes. In days of controversy, bystanders are fond of exaggerating differences, and blowing up the fire of division. When men can preach and pray together with freedom, we may rest assured. that in heart they do not greatly differ. Let us try to believe that all was ordered for good. It is pretty certain that Fletcher could not long have retained his double position as Principal of Trevecca and Vicar of Madeley. The double responsibility would have killed him. It is far from improbable that he saw this himself, and was not sorry to have a door opened for retiring.

About the year 1776, Fletcher’s health failed so much that he was completely laid aside from public work, and obliged to leave Madeley entirely for the long space of five years. He had never been very strong at any time, and for some years before 1776 he had many premonitory symptoms of consumption. Like many unmarried ministers, he had lived alone and taken no care of himself, and at the age of forty-seven he seemed to be breaking down entirely under the abundance of his labours. He felt himself that he had often been imprudent, and taxed his constitution too much. But it is just one of those lessons which ministers generally find out too late, when the mischief is done. Over-laziness is so much more a besetting sin than over-zeal, that a conscientious man may well be excused if he turns a deaf ear to the suggestion, “ Spare thyself,” and suspects it to be a temptation of the devil. Such, I have little doubt, was the case with Fletcher.

The first two years of Fletcher's forced retirement from work was spent in England,—partly at Brislington, near Bristol; partly at Newington, near London; and partly at other places, —but always at the house of loving friends. His one employment was that most wearing and depressing one, the search for health; and many, strange, and various were the remedies he seems to have tried in order to obtain it. At no time of his life, perhaps, did his graces shine more than they did at this. He gave full proof that he could bear God’s will as well as do it, suffer patiently as well as work actively, sit still and do nothing as well as run about and do a great deal. Let me here express my own firm conviction, that this is the highest point of excellence in a Christian. Self-conceit, and the love of the praise of men, will often help us to preach, and speak, and write, and make a great noise in the world. Nothing but great grace will enable us to be content to do nothing, and to sit still and wait. No wonder that one who came to visit him at Newington, when he was thought to be dying, said afterwards, “ I went to see a man that had one foot in the grave, but I found a man that had one foot in heaven.”

The last three years of Fletcher’s period of ill health were spent on the Continent,—partly in the south of France, and partly in Switzerland. This Continental tour was a wiselydevised plan, and answered perfectly. The return to his native air, the entire change of scene and occupation, the freedom from a thousand causes of care and anxiety in England, the society of his valued and kind travelling companion, Mr. Ireland of Brislington,—all these things acted with mighty power on Fletcher’s shattered constitution. Little by little he began to rally. Little by little he lost the many unfavourable symptoms with which he had left England. At last, to his own great delight, he was able to preach without difficulty; and at length, in the month of June 1781, like one miraculously raised from the dead, he found himself once more in his vicarage at Madeley.

In the latter end of 1781, the same year that he returned to Madeley, Fletcher was married. He was now in the decline of life, a man of broken health, in the fifty-second year of his age, and the step probably took his friends by surprise. But it seems to have been a wise and well-ordered step, and one that added much to the comfort of his latter days. The lady of his choice, a Miss Bosanquet, was one whom he had known well as a decided Christian for at least twenty years, and she appears in every respect, both in age and character, to have been eminently calculated to be a help-meet for him. The account of the wedding, which is given at great length by Fletcher’s biographer, Mr. Benson, is very curious indeed, and deserves an attentive perusal. Seldom, perhaps, was a marriage ever celebrated in a fashion so utterly unlike the fashion of this world. But Fletcher was no common man, and his wedding was no common wedding.

The Vicar of Madeley’s letter to a friend, written shortly after his marriage, is interesting; and the more so as it throws some light on his motives for changing his state. He says: “JT am married in my old age, and have a new opportunity of considering a great mystery, in the most perfect type of our Lord’s mystical union with his Church. I have now a new call to pray for a fulness of Christ’s holy, gentle, meek, loving spirit, that I may love my wife as he loved his spouse the Church. But the emblem is greatly deficient. The Lamb is worthy of his spouse, and more than worthy: whereas I must acknowledge myself unworthy of the yoke-fellow whom Heaven has reserved forme. She is a person after my own heart; and I make no doubt we shall increase the number of the happy marriages in the Church militant. Indeed, they are not so many but it may be worth a Christian’s while to add one more to the number. God declared that it was ‘not good for man,’ a social being, ‘to live alone ;’ and therefore he gave him a help-meet for him. For the same reason our Lord sent forth his disciples two and two. Had I searched the three kingdoms, I could not have found one brother willing to share, gratis, my weal, woe, and labour, and complaisant enough to unite his fortune to mine. But God 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. Buried together in our country village, we shall help one another to trim our lamps, and to wait, as I trust you do continually, for the coming of the heavenly Bridegroom.”

In another letter, written in the beginning of 1782, he says: “Strangely restored to health and strength, considering my years, by the good nursing of my dear partner, I ventured to preach of late as often as I did formerly: and, after having read prayers, I preached twice on Christmas-day. I did last Sunday what I had never done: I continued doing duty from ten till past four in the afternoon, owing to christenings, churchings, and the sacrament, which I administered to a churchful of people; 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 that I had flattered myself in vain to do the whole duty of my parish. But my dear wife nurses 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 all for our good, and are all sure, as blessed instruments, to forward us in our journey to heaven.”

Fletcher’s most useful ministry did not last long after his return to Madeley. He died on Saturday the 14th of August 1785, after a short illness of only ten days’ duration—apparently a typhus fever—in the fifty-sixth year of his age. His constitution was probably broken down by his long-continued labours in Christ’s cause, and a constant tendency to consumption; and when the last enemy came, he had no strength or stamina to enable him to resist disease. Even to the last he was the same man that he had been for twenty-five years, and his obstinate determination to work on to the uttermost in all probability made his attack of fever terminate fatally. Though taken ill on Thursday the 4th of August, he persisted in taking the full morning duty on the following Sunday in his church. He read prayers, preached, and administered the Lord’s Supper, though he nearly fainted several times in the service. From the church he was supported into his bedroom, where he lay for some time in a swoon, and from that time he never left his house alive. Never, perhaps, was there a more striking instance of the “ruling passion being strong in death.” Like Whitefield, he almost died in harness.

All through the early part of the week he lay very ill, able to speak little, but full of joy and peace, and delighting greatly in hearing his wife read hymns and treatises on faith and love. On Thursday and Friday he spoke very little, but seemed to take peculiar pleasure in the text, “God is love,” and in the verse of a hymn containing these words,—

** The blood of Christ through earth and skies, Mercy—free, boundless mercy cries;

Mercy’s full power I soon shall prove—Loved with an everlasting love.”

On Saturday afternoon the fever seemed to leave him for a little time, and he became so much more like himself that a friend said, “ Do you think the Lord will raise you up?” He strove to answer, but could only just pronounce the words, “ Raise me up in the resurrection.” To another who asked the same question, he said, “I leave it all to God.”

On Saturday evening the fever returned again, and with greater violence than ever. It became evident that he was dying very fast. His wife then said, “ My dear creature, I ask not for myself—I know thy soul—but I ask for the sake of others :—If Jesus be very present with thee, lift up thy right hand.” Immediately he did so. ‘If the prospect of glory sweetly open before thee, repeat the sign.” He instantly raised his hand again, and in half a minute raised it a second time. He then threw it up, as if he would reach the top of the bed. After this he moved and spoke no more, excepting when Mrs. Fletcher said, “ Art thou in pain?” when he answered, “ No.” From that time he lay in a kind of sleep, though with his eyes open and fixed, sitting upright in his bed, with his head leaning on pillows. Eighteen hours he continued in this position, breathing quietly like a person in common sleep, and with a countenance so calm and composed that not a trace of death could be seen on it. During this period many of his mourning parishioners, who had assembled for Sunday service, were permitted to walk through the house, and past the open door of his bedroom, and to see his much-loved face once more. At length, at half-past ten on Sunday night, August 14th, he fell asleep in Christ, without a struggle or groan, and entered into the joy of his Lord. On the 17th, he was buried in Madeley churchyard, amidst the tears and lamentations of thousands, of whom many never knew the true value of their vicar until they had lost him.

I have now followed Fletcher from his cradle to his grave. It only remains for me to offer some estimate of his real worth as a preacher, a writer, and a man.

As a preacher, I am disposed to assign Blecehen a very high rank. Even in the last century, when there were “giants of pulpit power on the earth,” I suspect there were not half-a-dozen men superior to the Vicar of Madeley. He was naturally an eloquent man. He had a mind well trained and stored with scriptural matter, He was eminently direct, bold, and con-

(195) 27 science-stirring, in his way of putting things. Not least, he had a very fine voice, and a singularly fervent and attractive manner. It is recorded that many English people used to go to hear him preach in French to the French congregations in London, though they could not understand a word that he said. “We go,” they used to say, “to look at him, for heaven seems to beam from his countenance.” <A minister possessing such qualifications as these must have been a man of no common power in the pulpit. John Wesley, who was no mean judge, used to say, that if Fletcher had had more physical strength, he would have been the first preacher in England. This is probably saying too much. Nothing, I suspect, would ever have made Fletcher equal Whitefield or Rowlands. But we need not hesitate to place him in the first class among the Christian orators of England a hundred years ago.

The following passage will probably convey a pretty correct idea of what Fletcher was as a preacher. I have taken it from his ‘‘ Address to a serious reader who inquires what must he do to be saved.” The address was certainly not published in the form of a sermon; but if it had not been preached, I am greatly mistaken. Ministers who spend their whole life in preaching, as Fletcher did, have seldom time to think and compose in more than one style. To that rule Henry Venn was perhaps the only exception among the great men of the last century. But that Fletcher had preached the following passage in Madeley pulpit before he committed it to the press, I feel thoroughly persuaded in my own mind. After quoting a long list of encouraging promises and invitations in Scripture, he goes on,—

‘Are these, O sinner, the gracious sayings of God to thee? the compassionate expostulations of God, become incarnate for thee? Did God so love thee as to set forth his only-begotten Son, as a propitiation through faith in his blood, thus to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past? May the Almighty now be just, and yet the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus? Is there no difference, no respect of persons, with him? And is the same Lord over all rich unto all that call upon him? Then shout, ye heavens! triumph, thou earth! and thou, happy sinner, know the day of thy visitation; be wise, ponder these things, and thou shalt understand the loving-kindness of the Lord.

“Be no longer afraid that it will be presumption in thee to believe, and that God will be offended with thee if thou makest so free with Jesus as to wash instantly in the fountain of his atoning blood. He not only gives thee leave to believe, but he invites thee to do it freely. Nay, he commands thee to believe; for ‘this is his commandment, that we should believe on the name of his Son Jesus Christ.’ He even enforces the precept by a double promise, that if thou believest thou ‘shalt not perish, but have everlasting life.’ And that nothing may be wanting to stir thee up to this important business, he is gracious enough to threaten the neglect of it with the most dreadful punishment; for ‘he that believeth not shall not enter into his rest,’ and ‘ shall be damned ;’ and he that to the end remains ‘fearful and unbelieving’ ‘shall be cast into the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone, which is the second death.’ How canst thou doubt, then, whether thou art welcome to receive the Son by believing on his name?

“Come to him just as thou art, and he will make thee what thou shouldst be. When he counsels thee to buy of him the gold of faith, and the garment of salvation, take him at his gospel-word. Come without regarding thy stuff—the poorer thou art the better—the oil of his grace flows most abundantly into empty vessels—his charity is most glorified in the relief of the most miserable objects—his royal bounty scorns the vile compensation of thy wretched merits—he sells like a king, like the King of kings, ‘ without money and without price.’

“Ask and have, and ‘take freely, are the encouraging mottoes written upon all the unsearchable treasures of his grace.

“Be of good comfort, then; rise, he calleth thee—stretch out thy withered hand, and he will restore it—open thy mouth wide, and he will fill it—bring an empty vessel, a poor hungry heart, and he will give into thy bosom good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over.

‘“¢ And now, what meanest thou, sleeper? Why tarriest thou? Arise, and wash away thy sins, calling on the name of the Lord. Lose not time in conferring with flesh and blood; much less in parleying with Satan, or consulting thy unbelieving heart. These delays lead to ruin; the Philistines are upon thee, instantly shake thyself; if thou art not altogether blinded by the god of this world, and led captive by him at his will, this moment, in the powerful name of Jesus, burst the bonds of spiritual sloth—break, like a desperate soul, out of the prison of unbelief—escape for thy life—look not behind thee—stay not in all the plain. This one thing do; leaving the things that are behind—Sodom and her ways—press forwards towards Zoar, and escape to the mount of God, lest thou be consumed. By the new and living way consecrated for us, in full assurance of faith, fly to the Father of mercies, pass through the crowd of Laodicean professors, press through the opening door of hope, take the kingdom of heaven by violence.

“With halting, yet wrestling, Jacob, say to the Friend of sinners, ‘I will not let thee go unless thou bless me.’ If he makes as if he would go farther, with the two mournful disciples, ‘constrain him to stay ;’ or rather, with the distressed women of Canaan, ‘ follow him whithersoever he goeth,’ take no denial. Through the veil, that is to say, his flesh, torn from the crown of his head to the sole of his feet—through this mysterious veil, rent from the top to the bottom, rush into the blood be sprinkled sanctuary; embrace the horns of the golden altar;

ay all thy guilt on the head of the sin-atoning victim; read thy name on the breast of thy merciful high-priest. Claim the safety, demand the blessings, receive the consolations bestowed on all that fly to him for refuge, and begin a new, delightful life, under the healing and peaceful shadow of his wings.”

As a writer, Fletcher's reputation will never perhaps stand so high as it deserves. Unfortunately, a very large portion of his literary remains consists of controversial treatises against Calvinism, and in defence of Arminianism. In these treatises I must plainly say the worthy Vicar of Madeley says many things with which I cannot agree, because I cannot reconcile them with the statements of Scripture. Yet, even when I do not agree with him, I feel bound as an honest man to admit that Fletcher is a very able adversary, and makes the best that can be made of a bad cause, and writes with courtesy. Indeed, I never can help suspecting that he was not nearly so much an Arminian in his heart as he thought he was, and that he was pushed into saying things, in the heat of controversy, which he afterwards regretted.

The following passage, from Fletcher’s ‘“ Checks to Antinomianism,” will convey a very fair idea of his power as a writer, and will show how thoroughly his mind was saturated and imbued with Scripture. It is almost needless to remark that, like many controversialists, he was constantly fighting shadows of his own creation, and that his Calvinistic antagonists hated Antinomianism and unholy living quite as much as he did. But the passage is a good specimen of his style of writing. He is giving a long catalogue of the melancholy inconsistencies of professors of religion, and says :—

“ Who can number the ‘adulterers and adulteresses’ who know not that the friendship of the world is enmity against God? —_the concealed idolaters, who have their ‘ chambers of imagery’ within, and ‘set up their idols in their hearts ?’—the envious Cains, who carry murder in their breast?/—the profane Esaus, who give up their birthright for a sensual gratification; and covetous Judases, who ‘sell the truth’ which they should ‘ buy,’ and part with Christ ‘for filthy lucre’s sake ?’—‘ the sons of God, who look at the fair daughters of men, and take to themselves wives of all which they choose ?’—the gay Dinahs, who ‘ visit the daughters of the land,’ and come home polluted in body or in soul?—the prophets of Bethel, ‘ who deceive the prophets of Judah,’ entice them out of the way of self-denial, and bring the roaring lion and death upon them %—the fickle Marcuses, who depart when they should ‘go to the work?’—the self-made prophets, who ‘run before they are sent,’ and scatter instead of ‘ profiting the people ?’/—the spiritual Absaloms, who rise against their fathers in the gospel, and, in order to ‘ reign without them,’ raise a rebellion against them? the furious Zedekiahs, who ‘make themselves horns of iron to push’ the true servants of the Lord, because they will not ‘ prophesy smooth things and deceit’ as they do? Who can count the fretful Jonahs, who are ‘angry to death’ when the ‘worm’ of disappointment ‘smites the gourd’ of their creature-happiness !—the weak Aarons, who dare not resist a multitude, and are carried by the stream into the greatest absurdities?—the jealous Miriams, who rise against the ministers that God honours !—the crafty Zibas, who calumniate and supplant their brethren !—the treacherous Joabs, who ‘kiss’ them to get an opportunity of ‘ stabbing them under the fifth rib?’—the busy sons of Zeruiah, who perpetually stir up resentment and wrath ?—the mischievous Doegs, who carry about poisonous scandal, and blow up the fire of discord +the hypocritical Gehazis, who look like saints before their masters and ministers, and yet can impudently lie and impiously cheat? —the Gibeonites, always busy in hewing wood and drawing water, in going through the drudgery of outward services, without ever aspiring at the adoption of sons !the halting Naamans, who serve the Lord and bow to Rimmon?—the backsliding Solomons, who once ‘chose wisdom,’ but now pursue folly in her most extravagant and impious forms 1—the apostatizing Alexanders, who * tread under foot the Son of God, and count the blood of the covenant, wherewith they are sanctified, an unholy thing ?—and, to include multitudes in one class, the Samaritans, who, by a common mixture of truth and error, of heavenly and earthly mindedness, ‘ worship the Lord and serve their gods ;’ are one day for God, and the next for mammon?—or the thousands in Israel who ‘halt between two opinions,’ crying out, when Elijah prevails, ‘The Lord he is the God!’ and when Jezebel triumphs, returning to the old song, ‘O Baal, save us!’ O trinity of the world, money, pleasure, and honour, make us happy !”

But it really is not fair to judge Fletcher, as a writer, by his controversial treatises alone. Out of the eight volumes of his works, at least four contain many admirable things, which are far less known than they ought to be. His admirable “ Letter to Mr. Prothero in Defence of Experimental Religion ;” his “Critical Vindication of the Catholic Faith, in reply to Priestley ;” his “ Portrait of St. Paul ;” his “ Pastoral Epistles” to his flock at Madeley, are, generally speaking, all worthy of high praise. Last, but not least, his letters to friends, like most of the letters of the spiritual heroes of last century, are often most excellent. Ifa volume of letters by Whitefield, Venn, and their contemporaries, could be compiled and published—and I have long regretted that the thing has not been done—I am bold to say that Fletcher’s letters would occupy a very prominent place among them.

As a man, Fletcher’s character stands above all praise. I can find very few men of a hundred years ago about whom there is so striking an agreement on all sides that he was pre-eminently and peculiarly a most holy man, a saint indeed, a living epistle of Christ. His deep humility, his extraordinary self-denial, his unwearied diligence, his courage in Christ’s cause, his constant spirituality of tone, his fervent love to God and man, his singleness of eye, are features in his character so strongly marked and developed, that even his adversaries never pretended to deny them. Wrong as he was in some of his views of doctrine, his worst foes never ventured to doubt his singular holiness of life. In this respect, at any rate, the Vicar of Madeley ranked high among his contemporaries. Like every earthen vessel, he had his cracks and flaws, no doubt, and no one knew it better than himself; but they were cracks and flaws which were far less visible than, unhappily, they are in many of God’s saints.

Let us hear what John Wesley thought of Fletcher. No doubt he was an Arminian, like Fletcher, and likely to think well Of him. But Wesley was a calm, cool-blooded man, and not one to speak strongly in any one’s praise without good reason. ‘This is his testimony :—

“TI was intimately acquainted with Mr. Fletcher for thirty years. JI conversed with him morning, noon, and night, without the least reserve, during a journey of many hundred miles; and in all that time I never heard him speak an improper word, or do an improper action. To conclude, within fourscore years I have known many excellent men, holy in heart and life; but one equal to him I have not known, one so uniformly devoted to God. So unblamable a man, in every respect, I have not found, either in Europe or America, nor do I expect to find another such on this side eternity.”

Let us hear, finally, what Henry Venn thought of Fletcher. His testimony, at any rate, is unexceptionable. Though not an extreme Calvinist, he certainly was not in the least an Arminian. He had little or no direct connection with the Vicar of Madeley, and did not move in the same path. Above all, he was a man of rare good sense as well as grace, and one whose gift of sound judgment was great and extraordinary.

His testimony was as follows :—“ Mr. Fletcher was a luminary. A luminary, did I say? Hewasasun. I have known all the great men for these fifty years, but I have known none like him. I was intimately acquainted with him, and was under the same roof with him once for six weeks, during which I never heard him say a single word which was not proper to be spoken, and which had not a tendency to minister grace to the hearers. One time meeting him when he was very ill with a hectic fever, which he had brought on himself by excessive labour, I said, ‘I am sorry to find you so ill.’ Mr. Fletcher answered with great sweetness and energy, ‘ Sorry, sir! Why are you sorry? It is the chastisement of my heavenly Father, and I rejoice in it. I love the rod of my God, and rejoice therein, as an expression of his love and affection towards me.’ ”.

With John Fletcher I now close my biographical accounts of the ministers who were prime movers in the revival of English religion a hundred years ago. I have shown, I think, that in the best sense “there were giants in those days.” The Vicar of Madeley, my readers will probably agree with me, was not the least of them.