Fletcher of Madeley Part 4

But there was opposition, as has been said, that weighed more heavily upon Fletcher's spirit than that of the poor and ignorant, who knew not what they did. Now it was a "new convert, whom the devil had by fifty visions set on the pinnacle of the temple. I have had more trouble with her visions than with her unbelief." Then he writes: "A daughter of one of my most substantial parishioners, giving place to Satan by pride and impatience, is driven in her conviction into a kind of madness. Judge how our adversaries rejoiced!"

Another incident caused him almost to despair of any good. A constable was sent to his house upon information that a cry of murder had been heard there on Christmas Day. The report arose from the cries from a young woman, who used to fall into convulsions, sometimes in the church and sometimes in the private meetings. He writes: "Her const.i.tution is considerably weakened as well as her understanding. What to do in this case I know not; for those who are tempted in this manner pay as little regard to reason as the miserable people in Bedlam." He adds, "And for my part I was tempted to forsake my ministry and take to my heels."

A further affliction was the ill-will of the neighbouring clergy and gentry. At the archdeacon's visitation a sermon was preached against what were called the "doctrines of Methodism," and after the sermon Fletcher was triumphantly asked what answer he could make. A young clergyman, living in Madeley Wood, fastened a paper to the door of the parish church charging him with "rebellion, schism, and being a disturber of the public peace." He had opened a room for religious services in a small house built upon the rock in Madeley Wood. Hence it was known as the Rock Church. It was determined to put the Conventicle Act in force against him. A poor widow who lived in the house, Mary Matthews by name, and a young man who used to take part in the services held there, were arrested and taken before the justice. Mary Matthews was fined 20, and the justice proposed to grant a warrant for the apprehension of Fletcher. The other justices thinking it a matter beyond their jurisdiction, the warrant was not issued. His churchwardens talked loudly of putting him in the spiritual court for holding meetings in houses, and, Fletcher adds, "what is worse than all, three false witnesses offer to prove upon oath that I am a liar; and some of '_my followers_' (as they are called) have dishonoured their profession, to the great joy of our adversaries."

No wonder he was from time to time greatly cast down. His health was delicate, he lived alone, and, between deliberate fasting and unconscious neglect of himself, his body suffered and his spirits were depressed. He writes to Charles Wesley: "I preach, I exhort, I pray, etc., but as yet I seem to have cast the net on the wrong side of the ship. Lord Jesus, come Thyself and furnish me with a Divine commission!

For some months past I have laboured under an insufferable drowsiness.

I could sleep day and night, and the hours which I ought to employ with Christ on the mountain I spend like Peter in the garden."

The drowsiness of which he complains was probably connected with what Wesley says was his invariable rule; viz. to sit up two whole nights in a week, and devote the time to reading, meditation, and prayer. We have seen that Wesley disapproved these austerities as "well intended but not well judged." It would be easy, but ungracious, to expand into censure what Wesley so gently touched upon. It will be pleasanter to look for a moment upon the solitary vicar at his frugal meal, as portrayed by one who never forgot her girlish visit to the vicarage.

"Mr. Fletcher sometimes visited a boarding school at Madeley. One morning he came in just as the girls had sat down to breakfast. He said but little while the meal lasted, but when it was finished he spoke to each girl separately, and concluded by saying to the whole, 'I have waited some time on you this morning, that I might see you eat your breakfast; and I hope you will visit me to-morrow morning and see how I eat mine.' He told them his breakfast hour was seven o'clock, and obtained a promise that they would visit him. Next morning they went at the time appointed, and seated themselves in the kitchen. Mr. Fletcher came in, quite rejoiced to see them. On the table stood a small basin of milk and sops of bread. Mr. Fletcher took the basin across the kitchen, and sat down on an old bench. He then took out his watch, laid it before him, and said: 'My dear girls, yesterday morning I waited on you a full hour while you were at breakfast. I shall take as much time this morning in eating my breakfast as I usually do, if not rather more. Look at my watch! and he immediately began to eat and continued in conversation with them. When he had finished he asked them how long he had been at breakfast.

They said, 'Just a minute and a half, sir.' 'Now, my dear girls,' said he, 'we have fifty-eight minutes of the hour left'; and he began to sing--

'Our life is a dream; Our time as a stream Glides swiftly away, And the fugitive moment refuses to stay.'"

After this he gave them a lecture on the value of time, and the worth of the soul. They then all knelt down in prayer, after which he dismissed them with impressions on the mind the narrator never ceased to remember.[6]

In following Fletcher through the earlier years of his ministry at Madeley the thought will present itself to most persons that a good wife would have been an incalculable blessing to him. In a letter to Mr. Perronet, written in November, 1765, he says, "I live alone in my house, having neither wife, child, nor servant." Surely this is a somewhat forlorn view of the Vicar of Madeley, which not all his gentle cheerfulness can effectually brighten. A wife's ministering would have been as good for his health and comfort as her sympathy and counsel would have been helpful in the peculiar difficulties of his pastorate.

George Herbert, in his "Country Parson," though he shows a sufficient leaning towards the celibacy of the clergy, yet qualifies his verdict: "The country parson, considering that virginity is a higher state than matrimony, and that the ministry requires the best and highest thing, is rather unmarried than married. But yet, ... as the temper of his parish may be, where he may have occasion to converse with women, and that amongst suspicious men, and other like circ.u.mstances considered, he is rather married than unmarried." Fletcher was never suspected of levity or indiscretion. It was hardly within the power, either of the foolish or the malicious, to fasten scandal upon one so transparently pure in spirit and demeanour. But, as it has been seen, the religious fears and fancies, and morbid or fanatical conditions of certain women caused him much trouble, and almost made him despair of his work. In these matters the aid of such a wife as Fletcher would have married--as many years afterwards he did marry--would have been invaluable. It is the more to be regretted that he did not marry, as it appears that his heart was already drawn towards Miss Bosanquet, his future wife. But her fortune he regarded as an almost insuperable obstacle. Juvenal's sarcasm, _Veniunt a dote sagittae_, recurred to him, and he shrank from the notion of becoming the suitor of a wealthy woman. Charles Wesley thought it would be better for him to marry; but he repelled the suggestion, and wrote him several "reasons against matrimony," which, to say the truth, are a very laboured piece of writing, and are never likely to convince any human being whose mind is not already made up.

CHAPTER VII.

_CONTROVERSY AND CORRESPONDENCE._

Almost from the beginning of his ministry Fletcher's pen was active in the service of religion. From various causes much, if not the greater part, of his writings was controversial, and to this fact may be a.s.signed, in part at least, their immediate popularity and subsequent neglect. But the spirit of controversy never got the better of the spirit of devotion. Whatever view may be taken of the Calvinist controversy, in which he took a leading part, few will dissent from Southey's judgment: "If ever true Christian charity was manifested in polemical writing, it was by Fletcher of Madeley. Even theological controversy never in the slightest degree irritated his heavenly temper." Some extracts from his earlier writings will show the spirit in which he entered upon this part of his labours.

In reply to the visitation sermon attacking the "doctrines of Methodism," he wrote, in July, 1761, a short "Defence of Experimental Religion," which may be cla.s.sed amongst the best apologies of the period. He had now acquired an easy, pleasant English style, tending somewhat to the florid and diffuse, but generally stopping short of excess, and often forcible and persuasive in a high degree. He had no difficulty in showing that to represent virtue and morality as the way to salvation is neither agreeable to the Scripture nor to the doctrine of the Church of England. The true nature of justification, and of the faith that justifies, he ill.u.s.trates from the Articles and Homilies.

The necessity of G.o.d's grace to turn the will, as against the superficial notion that a man is as free to do good as to do evil, is shown from Article X., from the baptismal office, and the collect for Ash Wednesday.

It was inevitable in the state of religion in England, and considering the chief intellectual influences then in the ascendant, that to preach salvation as a present blessing to be possessed and enjoyed, was to incur the charge of enthusiasm. The high and moderate clergy never felt surer of themselves than when exposing the folly and presumption of "feelings" and "experiences" in religion. Fletcher distinguishes between what is true and what is false on this subject:

"To set up impulses as the standard of our faith or rule of our conduct; to take the thrilling of weak nerves, sinking of the animal spirits, or flights of a heated imagination, for the workings of G.o.d's Spirit; to pretend to miraculous gifts, and those fruits of the Spirit which are not offered and promised to believers in all ages, or to boast of the graces which that Spirit produces in the heart of every child of G.o.d, when the fruits of the flesh appear in our life--this is downright enthusiasm: I detest it as well as you, sir, and I heartily wish you good luck whenever you shall attack such monstrous delusions.

"But is it consistent with the doctrines of our Church to condemn and set aside all _feelings_ in religion, and rank them with unaccountable _impulses_? Give me leave, sir, to tell you that either you or the compilers of our Liturgy, Articles, and Homilies must be mistaken, if I did not mistake you.... They bid us pray (office for the sick) that every sick person may know and feel that there is no saving name or power but that of Jesus Christ. In the seventeenth of our Articles they speak of G.o.dly persons, and such as _feel_ in themselves the workings of G.o.d's Spirit. And in the third part of the homily for rogation week, they declare that when after contrition we _feel_ our consciences at peace with G.o.d through the remission of our sin, it is G.o.d that worketh this miracle in us. (Compare this with Rom. v.

1.) They are so far therefore from attributing such _feelings_ to the weakness of good people's nerves, or to a spirit of pride and delusion, that they affirm it is G.o.d that worketh them in their hearts....

"You seemed, sir, to discountenance _feelings_ as not agreeable to sober, rational worship; but, if I am not mistaken, reason by no means clashes with feelings of various sorts in religion. I am willing to let any man of reason judge whether feeling sorrow for sin, hunger and thirst after righteousness, peace of conscience, serenity of mind, consolation in prayer, thankfulness at the Lord's table, hatred of sin, zeal for G.o.d, love to Jesus and all men, compa.s.sion for the distressed, etc., or feeling nothing at all of this, is matter of mere indifference: yea, sir, take for a judge a heathen poet, if you please, and you will hear him say of a young man who, by his blushes, betrayed the shame he felt for having told an untruth,--_Erubuit, salva res est_....

"If a man may feel sorrow when he sees himself stript of all, and left naked upon a desert coast, why should not a penitent sinner, whom G.o.d has delivered from blindness of heart, be allowed to feel sorrow upon seeing himself robbed of his t.i.tle to heaven, and left in the wilderness of this world dest.i.tute of original righteousness? Again, if it is not absurd to say that a rebel, condemned to death, feels joy upon his being reprieved and received into his prince's favour, why should it be thought absurd to affirm that a Christian, who, being justified by faith, has peace with G.o.d, and rejoices in hope of the glory to come, feels joy and happiness in his inmost soul on that account? On the contrary, sir, to affirm that such a one feels nothing (if I am not mistaken) is no less repugnant to reason than to religion....

"But if, because your text was taken out of St. Paul's epistle, you choose, sir, to let him decide whether feelings ought to have place in sound religion, or not, I am willing to stand at the bar before so great a judge, and promise to find no fault with his sentence.... Where does he exclaim against feeling the power of G.o.d, or the powerful operations of His Spirit on the heart? Is it where he says that the kingdom of G.o.d is 'not in word, but in power'; that this kingdom within us (if we are believers), this true, inward religion consists in peace, righteousness, and joy in the Holy Ghost; that Christians rejoice in tribulation, because the love of G.o.d is shed abroad in their hearts by the Holy Ghost given unto them? Is it where he says, he is 'not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, because it is the power of G.o.d to the salvation of every one that believeth'; that he desired to 'know nothing but Jesus and the power of His resurrection'? (2 Cor. ii. 24.) Or is it when he calls the exerting of this power in him his life; saying, 'I live not, but Christ lives in me; and the life that I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of G.o.d, who loved me and gave Himself for me'?

"Can we suppose that he discountenances feelings in religion, when he prays that 'the G.o.d of hope' would fill the Romans (xv. 13) 'with all joy and peace in believing, that they might abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost'; when he says that 'they had not received again the spirit of bondage to fear, but the spirit of adoption, crying, Abba, Father, and witnessing to their spirits that they were the children of G.o.d,' agreeable to that of St.

John, 'He that believeth hath the witness in himself'?

"One more argument on this subject, and I shall conclude the whole. If good nature, affability, and morality, with a round of outward duties, will fit a man for heaven, without any feeling of the workings of the Spirit of G.o.d in the heart, or without peace, righteousness, and joy in the Holy Ghost; if such a professor of G.o.dliness is really in that narrow way to the kingdom which few people find, why did our Lord puzzle honest Nicodemus with the strange doctrine of a new birth?... why did He trouble the religious centurion with sending for Peter, that the Holy Ghost might fall upon him and all that heard the word, while the apostle preached to them remission of sins, through faith in Jesus?

"But, above all, if inward feelings are nothing in sound religion, if they rather border upon enthusiasm, why did not our Lord caution the woman who came behind him in Simon's house, who wept at his feet, and kissed and wiped them with her hair? Why did He not take this opportunity to preach her and us a lecture on enthusiasm? Why did He not advise her to take something to help the weakness of her nerves, and prevent the ferment of her spirits? Why did He not tell her she went too far, she would run mad in the end? Why did He not bid her (as people do in our days) go into company a little, and divert her melancholy? Nay, more; why did He prefer her with all her behaviour to good-natured, virtuous, religious, undisturbed Simon?

"... However, do not mistake me, sir; I am far from supposing that the sincerity of people's devotion must be judged of by the emotion they feel in their bodies.... But as I read that G.o.d will have the heart or nothing, so I know that when He has the heart, He has the affections, of course. Fear and hope, sorrow and joy, desire and love act upon their proper objects, G.o.d's attributes. They often launch out, and, as it were, lose themselves in His immensity, and, at times, several of these pa.s.sions acting together in the soul, the n.o.ble disorder they cause cannot but affect the animal spirits, and communicate itself more or less to the body. Hence came the floods of tears shed by David, Jeremiah, Mary, Peter, Paul, etc.; hence came the sighs, tears, strong cries, and groans unutterable of our Saviour Himself."

The "Defence," from which these extracts are made, fairly exhibits the mind of early Methodism, and of the Evangelical Revival generally, upon the questions discussed. The discrimination between religious feeling arising from the quickened apprehension of Divine truth, and that which is little more than natural emotion unnaturally stimulated, is not peculiar to Fletcher. He did but share it with the other leaders of the new reformation. The teaching of Wesley, the master mind of the whole movement, is, as regards this matter, as much marked by strong sense as by Evangelical fervour.

The comment, perhaps, of most readers of this "Defence of Experimental Religion" will be that the points contended for are obvious and indisputable, that they would be so readily admitted as to render much of the argument superfluous. That this should appear so is one of the many ill.u.s.trations of the extent to which the results of the great Revival have pa.s.sed into the religious life of the nation, and become a common heritage.

The private letters written at this period of Fletcher's life contain very little biographic material, and indeed record few incidents of any kind. Written, for the most part, to persons like-minded with himself, they consist mainly of the outpourings of praise and holy aspiration, mingled with exhortations and counsels. To the spiritually-minded who may read them they will continue to interpret and justify themselves, but it must be admitted that they do not belong to the rare and precious cla.s.s of writings that rank among the permanent treasures of the Christian Church. The distinction between that which is "for an age," and that which is "for all time," is nowhere more marked than in religious literature. Fletcher's letters nourished the spiritual life of his friends and correspondents, and were much read by Methodists for a generation or two; but they have failed to win a place among the books that do not grow old, those companions of the spiritual life whose ministry is from generation to generation. So few indeed are the books of this cla.s.s that there is no need to apologise for Fletcher because he has not added to their number.[7]

A few extracts from his correspondence may be given.

TO THE REV. CHARLES WESLEY.

"_Sept. 20th, 1762._

"The 'crede quod habes et habes' is not very different from those words of Christ, 'What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them.' The humble reason of the believer and the irrational presumption of the enthusiast draw this doctrine to the right hand or to the left. But to split the hair, here lies the difficulty.... Truly you are a pleasant casuist. What!

'It hath pleased Thee to regenerate this infant with Thy Holy Spirit, to receive him for Thine own child by adoption, and to incorporate him into Thy holy Church'--does all this signify nothing more than 'being taken into the visible Church'?

"How came you to think of my going to leave Madeley? I have indeed had my scruples about the above pa.s.sage, and some in the burial service; but you may dismiss your fears, and be a.s.sured I will neither marry nor leave my Church without advising you."

TO MISS HATTON.

"_Nov. 1st, 1762._

"That there is a seal of pardon and an earnest of our inheritance above, to which you are as yet a stranger, seems clear from the tenor of your letter; but had I been in the place of the gentleman you name, I would have endeavoured to lay it before you as 'the fruit of faith,' and a most glorious privilege, rather than as 'the root of faith,' and a thing absolutely necessary to the being of it.... Hold fast your confidence, but do not trust nor rest in it; trust in Christ, and remember He says, 'I am the way'; not for you to stop, but to run on in Him. Rejoice to hear that there is a full a.s.surance of faith to be obtained by the seal of G.o.d's Spirit, and go on from faith to faith until you are possessed of it. But remember this, and let this double advice prevent your straying to the right or left: first, that you will have reason to suspect the sincerity of your zeal if you lie down easy without the seal of your pardon, and the full a.s.surance of your faith; secondly, while you wait for that seal in all the means of grace, beware of being unthankful for the least degree of faith and confidence in Jesus, beware of burying one talent, because you have not five, beware of despising the grain of mustard seed because it is not yet a tree.

"With respect to myself: in many conflicts and troubles of soul I have consulted many masters of the spiritual life; but Divine mercy did not, does not, suffer me to rest upon the word of a fellow creature. The best advices have often increased my perplexities; and the end was to make me cease from human dependence, and wait upon G.o.d from the dust of self-despair. To Him therefore I desire to point you and myself, in the person of Jesus Christ. This incarnate G.o.d receives weary, perplexed sinners still, and gives them solid rest. He teaches as no man ever taught; His words have spirit and life; nor can He possibly mistake our case."

Fletcher's correspondence with Miss Hatton continued, at intervals, for some years. She was much afflicted in body, and, as it would seem, hara.s.sed and burdened in spirit, and his letters afforded her consolation and guidance until the close of her life, to which he thus refers: "Poor Miss Hatton died last Sunday fortnight full of serenity, faith, and love. The four last hours of her life were better than all her sickness. When the pangs of death were upon her, the comforts of the Almighty bore her triumphantly through, and some of her last words were: "Grieve not at my happiness.... I wish I could tell you half of what I feel and see. I am going to keep an everlasting sabbath....

Thanks be to G.o.d, who giveth me the victory!"

His care for his people found expression in many ways that watchful love suggested, or their necessities seemed to call for. During his occasional absences from home he addressed pastoral letters to his flock filled with Christian exhortations and counsels. The following are extracts:

"_Oct., 1765._

"I beg you will not neglect the a.s.sembling of yourselves together, and when you meet in society, be neither backward nor forward to speak. Let every one esteem himself the meanest in the company, and be glad to sit at the feet of the lowest.... I had not time to finish this letter yesterday, being called upon to preach in a market town in the neighbourhood.... A gentleman churchwarden would hinder my getting into the pulpit, and, in order to do this, cursed and swore, and took another gentleman by the collar in the middle of the church. Notwithstanding his rage, I preached.

May the Lord raise in power what was sown in weakness!"

"_Sept., 1766._