"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."
To the Same.
"Nov. 15th, 1759.
"The countess proposed to me something of what you hinted to me in your garden, namely, to celebrate the Communion sometimes at her house in a morning, and to preach when occasion offered; in such a manner however as not to restrain my liberty, nor to prevent my assisting you, or preaching to the French refugees; and that only till Providence should clearly point out the path in which I should go. Charity, politeness, and reason accompanied her offer, and I confess, in spite of the resolution which I had almost absolutely formed, to fly the houses of the great, without even the exception of the countess's, I found myself so greatly changed that I should have accepted on the spot a proposal which I should have declined from any other mouth; but my engagement with you withheld me, and, thanking the countess, I told her, when I had reflected on her obliging offer, I would do myself the honour of waiting upon her again.
"Nevertheless, two difficulties stand in my way. Will it be consistent with that poverty of spirit which I seek? Can I accept an office for which I have such small talents? And shall I not dishonour the cause of God by stammering out the mysteries of the gospel in a place where the most approved ministers of the Lord have preached with so much power and so much success? I suspect that my own vanity gives more weight to this second objection than it deserves to have: what think you? You are an indulgent father to me, and the name of son suits me better than that of brother."[4]
CHAPTER VI.
FIRST YEARS AT MADELEY.—DIFFICULTIES AND DISCOURAGEMENTS.
(1760-1767.)
Fletcher had now completed his thirty-first year, and had been three years and a half in orders. Ten years had elapsed since his coming to England, and he had no thought of returning to Switzerland. The anglicised form of his name was significant of the change that had taken place in his sentiments and sympathies. In these he had become an Englishman, although—and it is necessary to mark the distinction—his temperament was never naturalised, but remained that of a foreigner to the last. The yearning for his native land, which is supposed to characterise the Swiss, was wholly wanting in him. Spiritual affections and aspirations seemed to leave little room for love of country, and, for a time at least, to dissolve the ties of family and home. On this subject Charles Wesley, as we gather from a letter of Fletcher's, administered a mild reproof, to which he replies, with the utmost simplicity, that he had often thought "that the particular fault of the Swiss is to be without natural affection." It should be added that later years showed that he had no need to seek shelter under any such doubtful generalization, or charge himself with so grievous a moral deficiency.