Fletcher of Madeley Part 9

Even in its present form it is not difficult to see that the "Portrait of St. Paul" was written by one who had Swiss readers in view. The authors most frequently quoted are Ostervald, professor and pastor at Neufchatel, whose "Exercice du Ministere Sacre" was published in 1739, and Roques, formerly minister of the French congregation at Basle, whose "Pasteur Evangelique," published in 1723, was still a popular work. It was an advantage for Fletcher to be able to appeal to "such excellent and learned divines as Mons. Ostervald and Mons. Roques" in setting forth the character and calling of the Christian minister.

The third and concluding portion of the work is "An Essay on the Connexion of Doctrines and Morality." It might almost be considered a separate and independent work. Its object is to show the insufficiency of natural religion and philosophy to produce true goodness. We are reminded on every page that it was written in the country of Rousseau's birth and of Voltaire's adoption, at a time when the wit of the one, the sentiment of the other, and the principles of both these philosophers and men of letters, were of paramount influence in Switzerland. Voltaire and Rousseau died in the year 1778, while Fletcher was residing at Nyon, and he had ample opportunity of observing the extent to which both clergy and laity had come under their spell. That influence was, in Fletcher's judgment, the cause of grievous injury to religion and morals. A loose, easy-going, yet confident deism seemed almost to have superseded Christianity. Even amongst the clergy the truth of revelation was denied, or its importance disparaged. The doctrines of revealed religion were ridiculed as mysterious and incredible, or rejected as having no practical bearing. The religion of nature had a showy and pretentious side for those who aspired to the dignity of philosophers, and was easily reconcilable with selfishness, vanity, and licentiousness alike in its more, and in its less, ill.u.s.trious professors.

Fletcher set himself to show the relation between principles and conduct, and particularly between the doctrines of the gospel and a pure morality, inst.i.tuting comparisons between Christianity and the current deism in respect of their ethical force and direction. His references to Rousseau are frequent, as might be expected, and it was not difficult for so expert a controversialist to give a good account of the author of _emile_. The "Confessions" of Rousseau were not published until 1782, four years after his death; but Fletcher lived in a country where Rousseau's history and character were well known.

The most direct allusion, however, to his personal qualities occurs in the following pa.s.sage, taken from the close of the treatise:

"If it be asked, what secret vice it was that would not suffer so honest a man as J. J. Rousseau to embrace the gospel, without searching into the anecdotes of his life, we may rest satisfied with the discovery he has made of his own heart in this single sentence: 'What can be more transporting to a n.o.ble soul than the pride of virtue!' Such was the pride which made him vainly presume that he had power sufficient to conquer himself, without invoking the a.s.sistance of G.o.d; and by which he was encouraged to a.s.sert that the doctrines of the gospel were such as 'no sensible man could either conceive or admit.'

"There is no species of pride more insolent than that which gives rise to the following language: 'It is a.s.serted that "G.o.d so loved the world, as to give His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." These tidings, whether they be true or false, are highly acceptable to many; but for my own part, I openly declare that I reject with contempt the idea of such a favour. I read with attention those writings which tend to unfold the mysteries of nature, but resolve never to turn over those authors who vainly attempt to establish the truth of the gospel. This subject, though it has occupied the thoughts and engaged the pens of inquiring students for these seventeen hundred years, I shall ever regard as unworthy my attention. I leave it to the vulgar, who are easily persuaded of its importance. My virtues are sufficient to expiate my crimes, and on these I will resolutely depend, as my sole mediators before G.o.d.' ...

"The deists of Socrates' time must have been far less culpable than those of the present day. The former, conscious of the uncertainty with which they were encompa.s.sed, made use of every help they could procure in the pursuit of truth with unwearied a.s.siduity. The latter, presuming upon their own sufficiency, decide against doctrines of the utmost importance without impartially considering the evidence produced in their favour. The former, by carefully examining every system of morality proposed to their deliberation, discovered a candour and liberality becoming those who were anxiously 'feeling after G.o.d, if haply they might find Him.' The latter, by condemning revelation without calmly attending to the arguments of its advocates, manifest a degree of prejudice that would be unpardonable in a judge, but which becomes inexcusable in a criminal, who is pressed by the strongest reasons to search out the truth."

On his return to England, Fletcher brought this unfinished treatise with him, and, as we have said, never found time to complete it. One work he published while in Switzerland, a poem ent.i.tled "La Louange,"

afterwards enlarged and republished in England under the t.i.tle, "La Grace et La Nature." The Swiss edition required, and received, the license of the official censor at Lausanne, who was good enough to give his imprimatur in the following terms: "I have read this work, which, in my judgment, everywhere breathes Piety, Faith, and Christian Charity."--DE BONS, _Censeur_. The English edition was dedicated, by permission, to Queen Charlotte.

One incident connected with Fletcher's residence at Nyon remains to be told. A certain nephew of his, lately an officer in the Sardinian army, had been compelled to leave the service under discreditable circ.u.mstances. To rid themselves of his company, his brother officers agreed to challenge him in succession. After fighting two or three duels, he was obliged to resign his commission and leave the country.

He returned to Switzerland, to become a terror and a distress to his relatives. Having squandered his money in various evil ways, and come to the end of his resources, he resorted to a desperate expedient. He asked for a private interview with his uncle, General de Gons, and when they were alone, suddenly presented a loaded pistol, and said, "Uncle de Gons, if you do not give me a draft on your banker for five hundred crowns, I will shoot you." His uncle, finding himself in the power of a desperado capable of any mischief, and, possibly, having no heart to resist the violence of one who was all but a son, complied with his demand. His nephew then extracted a promise from him that he would not, on his honour as a gentleman and a soldier, take any steps to recover the draft, or bring him to justice; after which he rode off triumphant with his ill-gotten gains.

As he pa.s.sed the door of his uncle Fletcher, the fancy took him to call and pay him a visit, and he began at once to tell him of the kindness of his uncle De Gons, who had just given him five hundred crowns, adding, as he held out the draft, "If you don't believe me, see the proof under his own hand." Fletcher felt that there was something wrong. He took the draft, and looked first at it, and then at the young man. "It is, indeed, my brother's writing," said he, "and I am astonished to see it, for he is not rich, and I know that he so much disapproves your conduct that you are the last of the family to whom he would make such a present." Then folding the paper, and putting it into his pocket, he added, "It strikes me, young man, that you have come by this by some improper means, and I cannot, in honesty, return it to you but with my brother's knowledge and approbation." Out came the young ruffian's pistol once more, and putting it to Fletcher's breast, he swore he would have his life if he did not immediately return him the draft. "My life," replied Fletcher, "is secure in the hands of G.o.d."

The young man still sought to terrify him into compliance. "Do you think," said Fletcher, "that I have been twenty-five years the minister of the Lord of life, to be afraid of death now? It is for you to fear death, who have every reason to fear it. You are a gambler and a cheat, yet call yourself a gentleman! You are a seducer, and a duellist, and call yourself a man of honour! Look there, sir; look there! The eye of G.o.d is upon us. Tremble in the presence of your Maker, who can in a moment kill your body, and for ever punish your soul in h.e.l.l."

The young man was powerless. He stormed and trembled alternately. He withdrew his pistol, and again presented it. He argued, entreated, threatened, but Fletcher remained calm and fearless. By-and-by he expostulated with him. "I cannot," said he, "return my brother's draft; yet I am sorry for you, and will do what I can to help you. General de Gons will, at my request, I am sure, give you a hundred crowns. I will do the same. Perhaps my brother Henry will do as much; and perhaps the other members of the family will make up the sum amongst them." He then knelt down, and prayed for his unhappy nephew. The matter was arranged, by Fletcher's influence, in the way he had suggested, and an opportunity was afforded to a foolish and wicked young man for repentance and reformation of life.

CHAPTER XI.

_RETURN TO ENGLAND.--MARRIAGE._

Fletcher returned to England in the spring of 1781, after an absence of nearly three years and a half. His health was considerably improved by the long rest and retirement; the worst symptoms had disappeared, but he remained, at best, a frail and delicate man.

Almost his first act on reaching London was to preach in the new chapel in City Road, which had been erected during his absence. Wesley was away in the midland counties, preaching and visiting the societies; from thence he pa.s.sed into Wales, and next to the Isle of Man, so that some months elapsed before he and Fletcher met. After a few days in London Fletcher went to Bristol, where he received the warmest welcome from Mr. Ireland and his other friends. Soon after his arrival, Mr.

Rankin, a Methodist preacher then stationed in Bristol, had an interview with him, "which," he says, "I shall never forget in time or eternity." Fletcher had many inquiries to make concerning the progress of religion in England and in America, where Mr. Rankin had laboured for five years. They walked to and fro in Mr. Ireland's garden, and as he listened to Mr. Rankin's account of the triumphs of the gospel at home and in the colonies, Fletcher broke forth again and again into prayer and praise.

In almost every reference to him at this period of his life, and onward to its close, there is mention of a something almost unearthly in his spirit, and even in his appearance and manner. With the utmost affectionateness and freedom of intercourse there was a certain raptness of devotion, a mingled simplicity and elevation of thought and feeling, peculiarly his own. The impression he produced, as shown in the letters and journals of his contemporaries, is unmistakable. There is nothing quite like it in the case of any other member of the group to which Fletcher belongs. Alike in converse with individuals, and in his public addresses, he gave the impression of one whose links with earth were few and slender compared with those that united him with the heavenly world. After describing the interview just referred to, Mr.

Rankin goes on to say: "He preached in the evening from 'G.o.d hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth.' The whole congregation was dissolved in tears. He spoke like one who had just left the converse of G.o.d and angels, and not like a human being. The different conversations I had with him, his prayers and preaching during the few days which he stayed at Bristol and Brislington, left such an impression on my mind, and were attended with such salutary effects, that for several months afterwards not a cloud intervened between G.o.d and my soul,--not for one hour. Of all the men I ever knew, I never saw such love to G.o.d and man, such deadness to the world, such entire consecratedness to Jesus, as in him. It often appeared to me that his every breath was prayer and praise. He lived more like a disembodied spirit than a human being."

No one rejoiced at Fletcher's return to England more than his old friend and former colleague at Trevecca, Mr. Benson. In a hitherto unpublished letter, dated from the "Preaching House, Leeds," June 12th, 1781, he wrote to him as follows:

"It gave me great pleasure to hear of your safe arrival in England after so long an absence, and that your health was considerably better than when you went abroad; and more especially, as I understand from Miss Bosanquet, that you have some thought of visiting Yorkshire, where, I am sure, thousands will be glad to see you, and none more so than myself, who once had the honour of being your intimate friend, and whose one motive for troubling you at this time is a desire to renew that friendship, formerly so beneficial to my soul.

"Mr. Fletcher, no length of time, no distance of place, can ever erase your memory from my mind, nor shall I, while I breathe, cease to respect you above all men upon earth, and that for one _only_ reason, because the Lord Jesus Christ has in a great measure drawn His likeness upon you."

Although he returned to Madeley soon after reaching England, it was some time before Fletcher really took up his residence and resumed his work there. He determined to attend the approaching Methodist Conference, to be held in Leeds in the beginning of August. Four years had elapsed since his memorable visit to the Conference at Bristol, when Wesley had said concerning him, "He shall not die, but live." He now wished to meet once more the brethren to whom he was bound by so many ties. Wesley moreover wanted his presence and counsel, and for this, and for another reason that will be explained, he left Madeley and went to Yorkshire.

Seventy preachers met at the Conference. On the Sunday before it began, the Methodists had a high day at the parish church of Leeds. Wesley preached to a vast congregation. Seventeen clergymen, including Fletcher and c.o.ke, a.s.sisted him in administering the Lord's supper to eleven hundred communicants. During the Conference Wesley desired Fletcher, c.o.ke, and four others to meet him each evening to consult with him on any difficulty that might occur. Fletcher preached at five o'clock in the morning to at least two thousand persons, who listened to him with the deepest attention. Wesley's comment was, "I do not wonder he should be so popular; not only because he preaches with all his might, but because the power of G.o.d attends both his preaching and prayer." "I had the happiness to hear that venerable servant of G.o.d, Mr. Fletcher," wrote one of the preachers to his wife. "Never did I see any man more like what I suppose the ancient apostles to have been....

I think I never heard a sermon to be compared with it. I wish I could tell you every word. I had also the happiness to receive from his hand the bread in the sacrament of the Lord's supper."

The Conference was over in a week, but Fletcher still remained in the neighbourhood of Leeds. Another, and to him a still more important, matter was occupying his thoughts. It had reference to Miss Bosanquet, the lady named in Mr. Benson's letter. A very brief account of one who deserves, and has received, ample biographic honours, must here suffice. Mary Bosanquet was a lady of good family and considerable fortune, to whom belongs an eminence among the G.o.dly women of Methodism, a.n.a.logous to that of Fletcher among his a.s.sociates. At a very early age, and partly through the influence of a maidservant, she became an earnest Christian. As she grew up she pa.s.sed through much conflict and sorrow from the opposition of her parents. They were well-meaning but worldly people, and were disappointed and annoyed at their daughter's distaste for b.a.l.l.s and theatres, and at her generally impracticable religious convictions. They endeavoured to secure her promise that she would never, either then or thereafter, attempt to make her brothers "what she called Christians." Upon her saying that she dared not consent to that, her father replied, "Then you force me to put you out of my house." A kind of agreement was soon afterwards come to, that she should take lodgings in Hoxton, and visit her parents from time to time; and at twenty-one years of age, accompanied by her maid, she left her home, literally for Christ's sake. A year or two later she removed to Leytonstone, to a house of her own, not far from her father's residence. Here she gathered around her a family of poor women and orphan children, who were supported at her expense, and taught, trained, and employed according to their capacity. It was her desire to form a household in which the glory of G.o.d should be the supreme end and aim, and for many years her efforts were crowned with success. Peace, piety, and simple order ruled the little community.

Wesley was particularly interested in her plan, and delighted with its results. It reminded him of what he had seen many years before in the orphan house at Halle, and among the brethren at Herrnhut. It was akin to his own endeavour at Kingswood. In his "Journal" he refers to it in the following terms: "It is exactly _Pietas Hallensis_ in miniature....

I rode over to Leytonstone, and found one truly Christian family: that is, what that at Kingswood should be, and would, if it had such governors.... I preached at Leytonstone. Oh what a house of G.o.d is here! not only for decency and order, but for the life and power of religion! I am afraid there are very few such to be found in all the king's dominions."

In addition to the guidance of her household, Miss Bosanquet held services in her kitchen, at which she read and expounded the Scriptures to such of her poor neighbours as were willing to come. A Methodist cla.s.s-meeting was formed, and from time to time an itinerant preacher would come and minister to the little flock. From early morning till night there was nothing but hard and homely toil, frugal meals, frequent religious meetings, and ever-recurring prayer and praise. Thus devoting her time, her strength, her fortune to Christ and to the poor,

"She filled her odorous lamp with deeds of light, And hope that reaps not shame."

There was no lack of hindrances and discouragements, however, from within and from without. Many of the children suffered from painful diseases, the result of poverty and neglect. Others distressed her with the evil habits they had brought with them. Her relatives spoke of her as of one who was out of her right mind. Some of her critics declared that she was bringing up the children for nuns; others said her plans savoured too much of carnal wisdom; while others again charged her with idleness. Persons well-disposed and ill-disposed poured upon her their conflicting counsels and reproofs; and, as if the brave, lonely woman had not enough to bear, a crowd of rough men and boys would collect at the gate, when nights were dark, to throw dirt at the people as they went out from the meetings, and would afterwards come into the yard, and, putting their faces to a window which had no shutters, would roar and howl like wild beasts.

From Leytonstone Miss Bosanquet removed into Yorkshire, and settled at Gildersome, a village near Leeds, where she bought land and built a house. Here she continued for many years her self-denying labours and let the steady light of a holy life shine, to the comfort and edification of many. It is not necessary to tell the story in detail; it may be enough to say that while thus living for others, her fortune was melting away, partly through injudicious generosity, and partly through the blunders of those who helped and advised her in the management of her affairs. From these causes, to which might be added the unconscionable demands of some whom she a.s.sisted, she was brought to financial embarra.s.sment and great anxiety. At the time of Fletcher's return to England her difficulties seemed to be coming to a crisis. She saw nothing for it but to sell her Yorkshire property for what it would fetch, and with the proceeds pay off her debts as far as possible, and meet the remainder from the small income still coming to her from Leytonstone. It was at this juncture that she received an offer of marriage from Fletcher.

He was now fifty-two years of age, and Miss Bosanquet ten years younger. They had known one another for five-and-twenty years, though for the greater part of that time there was no direct intercourse between them. From their first acquaintance they had been attracted to one another. Fletcher had confessed to Charles Wesley that "Miss Bosanquet's image at one time pursued him," and that he should perhaps have lost his peace of mind if he had not betaken himself to prayer, and to a serious consideration of the reasons against matrimony. In spite of the victory thus gained, there is little doubt that her image pursued him through the following years. She, on her part, confides to her diary that a feeling "that she might be called to marry Mr.

Fletcher" would now and again come to her mind. She found much help and comfort in his writings. In her troubles she thought of him as "one who might perhaps be sent to her aid." She dwelt upon "some little acts of friendship in our first acquaintance," and then put the pleasant thoughts away, lest they should be a snare to her. She resolved "never to do the least thing towards a renewal of their correspondence." And so for fifteen years they never met, each of them meanwhile pa.s.sing through much affliction, and needing the very help which the other could have supplied.

To Fletcher's scrupulous sense of honour, Miss Bosanquet's fortune was an effectual barrier between them. That the possession of wealth should attract unworthy suitors is nothing unusual,--it is a constantly recurring source of danger to well-dowered women; but the danger of its repelling the worthy suitor, and so keeping those apart who are best fitted for each other, although much rarer, is perhaps even more difficult to deal with. In such cases some sort of mediation seems desirable, though it is generally impracticable. What was wanted in this instance was, in our judgment, that some one--say Wesley, or his brother Charles--should have said to Fletcher and to Miss Bosanquet the half dozen words explanatory of each other's sentiments that would have removed all difficulty, and given them twenty years of happy married life instead of four.

It is remarkable that when Fletcher made his offer of marriage to Miss Bosanquet he had not seen her for fifteen years. There was no previous renewal of the acquaintance, no gradual growth of intimacy and affection, no preliminaries of any kind. His proposal came unheralded and unexpected, and was at once accepted. It is clear that the needful preparation had been made on both sides long ago. There was the sudden removal of hindrances, real or imagined: that was all.

One of his letters to Miss Bosanquet, written during their engagement, has lately been published by Mr. Tyerman.[12] It is a true love-letter, and in no way unworthy of its writer. Others lie before us now. They are written with the utmost freedom and simplicity, and show a warm and tender affection, with a chivalrous admiration for the woman soon to become his wife. The gentle-spirited, lonely man rejoices in his new-found happiness. "Surely," he writes to her, "a human creature _alone_ is but _half_ himself. And yet how many, for want of having made the comparison, glory in their loss! I will do so no more." This is a touch of nature that the reader will appreciate; more particularly if he has been at the trouble of reading the "reasons against matrimony" that have been alluded to. But we refrain from further quotation. On the whole, we think it right to respect the privacy of Fletcher's love-letters. They were written for one reader, and for one only. By her they were sacredly preserved through the thirty years of her widowhood, and then, chiefly, we imagine, because she could not bring herself to destroy them, they pa.s.sed into the keeping of a dear and trusted friend. To remain in the keeping of friends, and not to be published to the world is, in our judgment, their proper destiny.

We are, however, much indebted to Mr. Tyerman for bringing to light the letter in which Fletcher asked the consent of Miss Bosanquet's uncle and trustee, Mr. Claudius Bosanquet, to his marriage with his niece. It is a most important piece of autobiography. We have so far availed ourselves of it in the course of this narrative that the whole need not be given here. But the following will be read with interest:

"It was soon after my ordination that I saw Miss Mary Bosanquet, your pious niece. I had resolved not to marry; but the sweetness of her temper, and her devotedness to G.o.d, made me think that if ever I broke through my resolution, it would be to cast my lot with one like her.

"Not long after, at Mr. Hill's request, his nephew, Mr.

Kinaston, member for Montgomery, presented me with the living of Madeley, a little market town in the county of Salop, worth about 100 _per annum_; and here I have chiefly lived, sequestered from the world, as your amiable niece has done at Leyton and at Cross Hall.

"After having corresponded some years with her on various subjects, last spring, on my return from a journey to the continent, I ventured to mention to her my first thoughts about a closer union with her, thoughts which I had kept to myself for nearly twenty-five years. After maturely discussing the point, your pious niece has given me room to hope she will give me her hand, if you, sir, whom she honours as a father, give your consent to our union. I earnestly ask it, sir; and beg you will share the pleasure of uniting two persons who, from a remarkable agreement of taste, sentiments, and pursuits, as well as from a particular sympathy, seem formed for each other by the G.o.d of nature and of grace.

"I wish, sir, I had a fortune equal to Miss Bosanquet's deserts; but I hope I have one suitable to her piety, and to the moderate wishes of that G.o.dliness which, together with contentment, is a great gain. I have only about 1500 worth of property in my native country, and about 400 or 500 more in my parish, besides the income of my living, and a house much better than those with which most country clergymen are obliged to put up.

"Whatever be your pious niece's fortune, I a.s.sure you, sir, I seek her person, not her property; and to convince you of it, I request before she gives me her hand, her whole fortune may be secured to her by a proper settlement."

The same day he wrote to Miss Bosanquet's brother:

"Among the reasons which hindered me from making my addresses to your amiable sister, when first I felt that sympathy which binds my soul to hers, the superiority of her fortune was not the least. Since that time, debts, which unforeseen circ.u.mstances led her to contract, have considerably lessened that difficulty, and the prudent fear of contracting new ones seems to make it expedient for her to get into a state where she may, without difficulty and with propriety, bring her expensive housekeeping within narrower bounds. That end will at once be attained if she favours me with her hand."

The consent of Miss Bosanquet's relatives was readily and cordially given. There was indeed no such disparity in the position and circ.u.mstances of the two as could well be a ground of objection. Their Methodist friends regarded their union as a peculiarly suitable one.

Wesley wrote to a friend at the time, "I should not have been willing that Miss Bosanquet should have been joined to any other person than Mr. Fletcher"; and later he said, "Miss Bosanquet was the only person in England whom I judged to have been worthy of Mr. Fletcher." They were married in Batley church, on November 12th, 1781. For nearly two months after their marriage they continued to reside at Cross Hall. It was desirable that Mrs. Fletcher's affairs should be settled before her removal to Madeley, so an arrangement was made with Mr. Crosse, the Vicar of Bradford, that he and Fletcher should exchange duty for a while. The former went to Madeley, and Fletcher took charge of Mr.

Crosse's parish. On January 1st, 1782, he wrote to a friend in London: "Strangely restored to health and strength (considering my years), I have ventured to preach of late as often as I did formerly; and after having read prayers and preached twice on Christmas Day, I did last Sunday what I had never done, I continued doing duty from ten o'clock in the morning till after four in the afternoon. This was owing to christenings, churchings, and the sacrament, which I administered to a church full 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 I have flattered myself in vain that I should be able to do the whole duty of my own parish. My dear wife is nursing me with the tenderest care, gives me up to G.o.d with the greatest resignation, and helps me to rejoice that life and death, health and sickness, work for our good, and are all _ours_, as blessed means to forward us in our journey to heaven."

The following day Fletcher and his wife set out for Madeley.

CHAPTER XII.