CHAPTER III.

FROM HIS CONVERSION TO HIS SETTLING AT MADELEY.

1. Ir was not long after he had himself "tasted the powers of the world to come," that he was pressed in spirit to exhort others to seek after the same blessing. And he was the more strongly excited to this, by seeing the world all around him "lying in wickedness." Being deeply sensible of the goodness of God on the one hand, and the misery of mankind on the other, he found an earnest longing

To pluck poor brands out of the fire,

To snatch them from the verge of hell.

This he began to do a considerable time before he was admitted mto holy orders. And even his first labours of love were far from being in vain. For though he was by no means perfect in the English tongue, particularly with regard to the pronunciation of it; yet the earnestness with which he spoke, (seldom to be found in English preachers,) and the unspeakably tender affection to poor, undone sinners, which breathed in every word and gesture, drew multitudes of people to hear him; and, by the blessing of God, his word made so deep an impression on their hearts, that very few went empty away.

2. From this time, till he undertook the direct care of souls, he used to be in London during the sitting of the parliament, and the rest of the year at Tern Hall, (as it was then called,) instructing the young gentlemen. Every Sunday he attended the parish church at Atcham. But when the service was ended, instead of going home in the coach, which was always ready, he usually took a solitary walk by the Severn side, and spent some time in meditation and prayer. A pious domestic of Mr. Hill's having frequently observed him, one Sunday desired leave to walk with him, which he constantly did from that time. The account which he (Mr. Vaughan, still living in London) gives of Mr. Fletcher is as follows:

"It was our ordinary custom, when the Church service was over, to retire into the most lonely fields or meadows, where we frequently either kneeled down, or prostrated ourselves upon the ground. At those happy seasons I was a witness of such pleadings and wrestlings with God, such exercises of faith and love, as I have not known in any one ever since. The consolations which we then received from God induced us to appoint two or three nights in a week, when we duly met after his pupils were asleep. We met also constantly on Sunday between four and five in the morning. Sometimes I stepped into his study on other days. I rarely saw any book before him besides the Bible and the Christian's Pattern.' And he was seldom in any other company, unless when necessary business required, besides that of the unworthy writer of this paper."

3. When he was in the country, he used to visit an officer of excise at Atcham, to be instructed in singing. On my desiring him to give me some account of what he recollected concerning Mr. Fletcher, he answered thus: "As to that man of God, Mr. Fletcher, it is but little that I remember of him; it being above nine-and-twenty years since the last time I saw him. But this I well remember, his conversation with me was always sweet and savoury. He was too wise to suffer any of his precious moments to be trifled away. When there was com pany to dine at Mr. Hill's, he frequently retired into the garden, and

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contentedly dined on a piece of bread, and a few bunches of currants. Indeed, in his whole manner of living, he was a pattern of abstemiousness. Meantime, how great was his sweetness of temper and heavenly. mindedness! I never saw it equalled in any one. How often, when I parted with him at Tern Hall, have his eyes and hands been lifted up to heaven to implore a blessing upon me, with fervour and devoutness unequalled by any I ever saw! I firmly believe, he has not left in this land, or perhaps in any other, one luminary like himself. I conclude, wishing this light may be so held up, that many may see the glory thereof, and be transformed into its likeness. May you and I, and all that love the Lord Jesus Christ, be partakers of that holiness which was so conspicuous in him!"

4. "Our interviews for singing and conversation," continues Mr. Vaughan, who was often present on these occasions, "were seldom concluded without prayer; in which we were frequently joined by her that is now my wife; (then a servant in the family;) as likewise by a poor widow in the village, who had also known the power of God unto salvation, and who died some years since, praising God with her latest breath. These were the only persons in the country, whom he chose for his familiar friends. But he sometimes walked over to Shrewsbury, to see Mrs. Glynne, or Mr. Appleton, (who likewise now rests from his labours, after having many years adorned the Gospel ;) he also visited any of the poor in the neighbourhood, that were upon a sick bed; and when no other person could be procured, performed even the meanest offices for them.":

5. It was in the year 1757, that he was ordained both deacon and priest. He was ordained at Whitehall; and the same day, being informed that I had no one to assist me at West-street chapel, he came away as soon as ever the ordination was over, and assisted me in the administration of the Lord's Supper. 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 frequently did, not only in English, but like wise in French, his native language; of which he was allowed, by all competent judges, to be a complete master.

6. "The first time," says Mr. Vaughan, "he preached in the country, was at Atcham church, on June 19, 1757. His text was, (a very bold beginning!) "Ye adulterers and adulteresses, know ye not that the friendship of this world is enmity with God?" James iv, 4. 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."

7. It was not soon that he was invited again to preach in Atcham church. But he was invited to preach in several other churches in the neighbourhood. He was first invited to preach at Wroxeter, and afterward at the Abbey church in Shrewsbury; but not being yet perfect in the English tongue, he wrote down all the sermons he preached in churches. But I doubt whether he preached above six times in the six months while he stayed in the country. On my telling him I wished he had more opportunities of preaching in this unenlightened part of the land, he answered, "The will of God be done: I am in his hands; and if he does not call me to so much public duty, I have the more time for study, prayer, and praise."

8. In the year 1758, there were many French prisoners on their parole at Tunbridge. Being desired to preach to them in their own

'anguage, he readily complied. Many of them appeared to be deeply affected, and earnestly requested that he would preach to them every Lord's day. But some advised them, first, to present a petition to the bishop of London for leave. They did so; and (who would believe it?) the good bishop peremptorily rejected their petition! 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. An odd incident followed: A few months after, the bishop died of a cancer in his mouth. Perhaps some may think this was a just retribution for silencing such a prophet, on such an occasion! I am not ashamed to acknowledge this is my own sentiment; and I do not think it any breach of charity to suppose that an action, so unworthy a Christian bishop, had its punishment in this world.

9. When he returned from London in the same year, he was more frequently invited to preach in several of the neighbouring churches. And before his quitting the country, he gave me a few printed papers, entitled, "A Christmas-box for Journeymen and Apprentices." I mention it the rather because I suppose this was the first thing which he ever published.

10. It was in the beginning of June, 1759, that he returned the last time from London to Tern Hall; and being now less frequently called to public duty, he enjoyed his beloved retirement, giving himself up to study, meditation, and prayer, and walking closely with God. Indeed his whole life was now a life of prayer; and so intensely was his mind fixed upon God, that I have heard him say, "I would not move from my seat, without lifting up my heart to God." Wherever we met, if we were alone, his first salute was, "Do I meet you praying?" And if we were talking on any point of divinity, when we were in the depth of our discourse, he would often break off abruptly, and ask, "Where are our hearts now?" If ever the misconduct of an absent person was mentioned, his usual reply was, "Let us pray for him."

11. It was, as I remember, about the close of this summer, that he was frequently desired, sometimes to assist, at other times to perform the whole service for, Mr. Chambers, then vicar of Madeley. On these occasions it was, that he contracted such an affection for the people of Madeley, as nothing could hinder from increasing more and more to the day of his death. While he officiated at Madeley, as he still lived at the Hall, ten miles distant from it, a groom was ordered to get a horse ready for him every Sunday morning. But so great was his aversion for giving trouble to any one, that if the groom did not wake at the time, he seldom would suffer him to be called, but prepared the horse for himself.

12. In answer to some queries concerning him, a gentleman who was intimately acquainted with him for many years wrote to me as follows:

DEAR SIR," My aversion to writing letters increases with my declining years. And yet I most willingly pay this debt to the precious memory of an old friend. I dwelt near him only two or three years; but our intimacy was great. And perhaps I may be able to present you with some particulars which you have not seen before.

13. "About the year 1760, he showed me, at his lodgings, a rope with pulleys, which he used for exercise; and added, with a smile, that the devil

often tempted him to hang himself therewith. I said, 'The desire of women is a temptation far more dangerous than this.' He answered with surprise, (or rather, as it seemed to me, with a degree of contempt,) 'In all my life I never felt that temptation; no, not in any degree.' But it is dangerous for a Christian, how great or good soever he may be, to despise another for being tempted. When we met again, he acknowledged he had been plagued, like other men, with that formerly unknown temptation."

14. In the same year, the living of Madeley fell vacant, and Mr. Fletcher was presented to it; which he accepted in preference to another, that was of double the value. He embraced it as his peculiar charge, the object of his most tender affection. And he was now at leisure to attend it, being fully discharged from his former employment; for his pupils were removed to Cambridge. The elder of them died about the time of his coming of age; the younger first represented the town of Salop, as his father had done, and afterward the county; till he took his seat in the house of peers, as Baron Berwick, of Atcham House this is now the name that is given to what was formerly called Tern Hall.

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CHAPTER IV.

FROM HIS SETTLING AT MADELEY, TO HIS LEAVING TREVECKA.

1. HE settled at Madeley, according to his desire, in the year 1760. And from the beginning he was a laborious workman in his Lord's vineyard. At his first settling there, the hearts of several were unaccountably set against him; insomuch that he was constrained to warn some of these, that if they did not repent, God would speedily cut them off. And the truth of those predictions was shown over and over, by the signal accomplishment of them. But no opposition could hinder him from going on in his Master's work, and suppressing vice in every possible manner. Those sinners who endeavoured 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 at five in the morning, and went round the most distant parts of the parish, inviting all the inhabitants to the house of God.

2. Yet notwithstanding all the pains he took, he saw for some time little fruit of his labour; insomuch that he was more than once in doubt, whether he had not mistaken his place; whether God had indeed called him to confine himself to one town, or to labour more at large in his vineyard. He was not free from this doubt, when a multitude of people flocked together at a funeral. He seldom let these awful opportunities slip without giving a solemn exhortation. At the close of the exhortation which was then given, one man was so grievously offended, that he could not refrain from breaking out into scurrilous, yea, menacing language. But, notwithstanding all his struggling against it, the word fastened upon his heart. At first, indeed, he roared like a lion; but he soon wept like a child. Not long after, he came to Mr. Fletcher

in the most humble manner, asking pardon for his outrageous behaviour, ⚫ and begging an interest in his prayers. This was such a refreshment as he stood in need of; and it was but a short time before this poor broken-hearted sinner was filled with joy unspeakable. He then spared no pains in exhorting his fellow sinners "to flee from the wrath to come." 3. It was not long after, when, one Sunday evening, Mr. Fletcher, after performing the usual duty at Madeley, was about to set out for Madeley-wood, to preach and catechise as usual. But just then notice was brought (which should have been given before) that a child was to be buried. His waiting till the child was brought, prevented his going to the wood. And herein the providence of God appeared. For at this very time many of the colliers, who neither feared God nor regarded men, were baiting a bull, just by the preaching-house; and having had plenty of drink, they had all agreed, as soon as he came, to bait the parson. Part of them were appointed to pull him off his horse, and the rest to set the dogs upon him. One of these very men afterward confessed that he was with them when this agreement was made; and that afterward, while they were in the most horrid manner cursing and swearing at their disappointment, a large china punch-bowl, which held above a gallon, without any apparent cause (for it was not touched by any person or thing) fell all to shivers. This so alarmed him, that he forsook all his companions, and determined to save his own soul.

4. From the beginning he did not confine his labours to his own parish. For many years he regularly preached at places, eight, ten, or sixteen miles off; returning the same night, though he seldom got home before one or two in the morning. At a little society which he had gathered about six miles from Madeley, he preached two or three times a week, beginning at five in the morning. As for visiting the sick, this was a work for which he was always ready; if he heard the knocker in the coldest winter night, his window was thrown open in a moment. And when he understood either that some one was hurt in the 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; but this answer was always given: "I will attend you immediately."

5. But in one respect Mr. Fletcher has frequently been blamed; namely, for deserting a place where God had eminently owned him; I mean Trevecka, in Wales. I believe it is therefore my bounden duty to clear up the whole affair. And I cannot do this better than by transcribing the substance of an account which I have received from Mr. Benson, in answer to my inquiries :

6. "My acquaintance with him," says he, "commenced when I was at Kingswood, I think in the year 1768. As he now and then made a short excursion from Madeley to Bath or Bristol, in one of those excursions we invited him to give us a sermon at Kingswood, He was peculiarly assisted while he was applying those encouraging words: Him that cometh unto me, I will in nowise cast out.' The people were exceedingly affected; indeed, quite melted down. The tears streamed so fast from the eyes of the poor colliers, that their grisly, black faces were washed by them, and almost universally streaked with white. And as to himself, his zealous soul had been carried out so far beyond his strength, that, when he concluded, he put off a shirt which was as wet as if it had been dipped in water. But this was nothing strange; whenever he preached, it was generally the case. From