and fill them with his consolations, if we will but exclude the world, and let him in. Why should we then give way to despondency, and refuse to cherish that lively hope, which if any one has, he will purify himself, even as God is pure?' Take courage then, Madam; and consider, that the hour of self-denial and painful wrestling with God will be short, and the time of victorious recompence as long as eternity itself. May the Lord enable you and me to consider this well, and to act accordingly. "I conclude, by commending you to the Lord, and to the word of his grace; and recommending myself to your prayers. I'am, Madam, your obedient servant, for Christ's sake, "J. F." 17. This year there were many French prisoners on their parole at Tunbridge. Mr. Fletcher being desired to preach to them in their own language, 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. An odd incident followed. A few months after the Bishop died of a cancer in his mouth. "Perhaps," says Mr. Wesley, 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 of a Christian Bishop had its punishment in this world." 66 When he returned to 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 his friend a few printed papers to distribute, entitled, "A Christmas-box for Journeymen and Apprentices." This is mentioned the rather, because, it is supposed, it was the first thing which he ever published. 18. In the spring of the next year he was again in London, and in the same humble and self-diffident state of mind, as appears by the following short extracts from three of his letters to the Rev. Charles Wesley. The first is dated March 22, 1759. "MY DEAR SIR, "You left me without permitting me to say, Farewell that shall not hinder me from wishing you a good journey; and I flatter myself that you are in the habit of returning my prayers. "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: O would to God I might be attended with success ! If the Lord shall in any degree sustain my weakness, I shall consider myself as indebted to your prayers. "A proposal has lately been made to me, to accompany Mr. Nathaniel Gilbert to the West Indies. I have weighed the matter; but, on the 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 call 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 Heathens. 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, and unites with me to say, that we have need of you to make one in our threefold cord, and to beg you will hasten your return, when Providence permits. 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. "J. FLETCHER." The second was written in April following, and in this his words are, "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 was not his prayer heard till the twelfth hour was just expiring? O where shall I appear, —I who am an unprofitable servant! Would to God my eyes were fountains of water 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 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! "I have lately 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, &c., &c.; but I see my heart so full of deceit, that I cannot depend on my knowledge of myself. "The day Mr. Walsh died, the Lord gave our brethren the spirit of prayer and supplication, and many unutterable groans were offered up for him at Spitalfields, where I was. Who shall render us the same kind office? Is not our hour near? O my God, when thou comest, prepare us, and we shall be ready! You owe your children an elegy upon his death, and you cannot employ your poetic talents on a better subject. "J. F." June 1st, he writes, "The Lord gives me health of * I fill an empty space. C body, and, from time to time, I feel strength in my soul. O when shall the witness [meaning himself] who is dead, arise! When shall the Spirit enter into him, and fill him with wisdom, with power, and with love! Pray for me, and support my weakness, as much as you can. I am here, umbra pro corpore ; I preach as your substitute: come and fill worthily an office, of which I am unworthy. My pupils return to Cambridge on Monday, and the whole family sets out for Shropshire on the 11th. Shall I not see you before that time? I have rejected the offer of Dr. Taylor, and have no other temptations than those of a bad heart. That is enough, you will say: : I grant it; but we must fight before we conquer. Pray that my courage may not fail. Come, and the Lord come with you. I am, &c., "J. F." 19. Having returned 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 he sometimes said, "I would not move from my seat, without lifting up my heart to God." "Wherever we met," says Mr. Vaughan, "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.'" 20. It appears, however, that he was not without painful temptations, of a spiritual nature, in this state of retirement. In a letter to the Rev. Charles Wesley, dated July 19th, of the same year, he observes, "Instead of apologizing for my silence, I will simply relate the cause of it, referring you to the remembrance of your own temptations for that patience you must exercise towards a weak, tempted soul. This is the fourth summer that I have been brought here, in a peculiar manner, * A shadow rather than a substance. 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 already 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 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 stand astonished at the patience of God. 66 '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 conqueror, and I doubt not but 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. I am, &c., "J. F." 21. After his return to London, which was soon after, he still possessed the same spirit of contrition and selfabasement. But I must here observe, that this spirit, however commendable in the general, and however essential to true Christianity, yet, being carried to excess in his particular case, became, through the subtlety of Satan, a source of trial and discouragement to him. On the 14th of September, he writes to the same faithful and intimate friend, as follows: |