“Tern, October 19, 1756.
“Dearest Brother,—This is to let you know that I am very well in body and pretty well in soul; but I have very few friends here, and God has been pleased to take away the chief of those few by a most comfortable death. My aged father also is gone the way of all flesh. For some years, I have written to him with as much freedom as I could have done to a son, though not with so much effect as I wished. But, last spring, God visited him with a severe illness, which brought him to a sense of himself; and, after a deep repentance, he died about a month ago, in the full assurance of faith.”[[15]]
Fletcher, at Geneva, had refused to enter the Christian ministry; now he entertained the most serious thoughts of devoting himself to it; but before doing so he wrote to Wesley, with whom he had become acquainted.
“Tern, November 24, 1756.
“Rev. Sir,—As I look on you as my spiritual guide, and cannot doubt of your patience to hear, and your experience to answer, a serious question proposed by any of your people, I freely lay my case before you.
“Since the first time I began to feel the love of God shed abroad in my heart, which was, I think, when seven years of age, I resolved to give myself up to Him and the service of His Church, if ever I was fit for it; but the corruption which is in the world, and that which was in my heart, soon weakened, if not erased, those first characters that grace had wrote upon it. However, I went through my studies with a design of going into Orders; but afterwards, upon serious reflection, feeling I was unequal for so great a burden, and disgusted by the necessity I should be under to subscribe to the doctrine of predestination, I yielded to the desire of my friends, who would have me go into the army. But just before I was quite engaged in a military employment, I met with such disappointments as occasioned my coming to England. Here I was called outwardly three times to go into Orders; but, upon praying to God that if those calls were not from Him they might come to nothing, something always blasted the designs of my friends; and in this I have often admired the goodness of God, who prevented me rushing into that important employment, as the horse does into the battle. I never was more thankful for this favour than since I heard the Gospel preached in its purity. Before, I had been afraid; but then I trembled to meddle with holy things, and resolved to work out my salvation privately, without engaging in a way of life which required so much more grace and gifts than I possessed. Yet, from time to time, I felt warm and strong desires to cast myself and all my inability upon the Lord, if I should be called again, knowing that He could help me, and show His strength in my weakness; and these desires were increased by some little success that attended my exhortations and letters to my friends.
“I think it necessary to let you know, Sir, that my patron often desired me to take Orders, and said he would soon help me to a living; to which I coldly answered, I was not fit, and that besides I did not know how to get a title. The thing was in that state when, about six weeks ago, a gentleman I hardly knew offered me a living, which, in all probability, will be vacant very soon; and a clergyman, that I never spoke to, gave me, of his own accord, the title of curate to one of his livings. Now, Sir, the question which I beg you to decide is, whether I must and can make use of that title to get into Orders? For with respect to the living, were it vacant, I have no mind to it, because I think I could preach with more fruit in my own country and in my own tongue.
“I am in suspense; on one side, my heart tells me I must try, and it tells me so whenever I feel any degree of the love of God and man; but, on the other, when I examine whether I am fit for it, I so plainly see my want of gifts, and especially of that soul of all the labours of a minister of the Gospel—love, continual, universal, flaming love, that my confidence disappears; I accuse myself of pride to dare to entertain the desire of supporting the ark of the Lord, and conclude that an extraordinary punishment will sooner or later overtake my rashness. As I am in both these frames successively, I must own, Sir, I do not see plainly which of the two ways before me I can take with safety, and I shall be glad to be ruled by you, because I trust God will direct you in giving me the advice you think will best conduce to His glory, the only thing I would have in view in this affair. I know how precious is your time; I desire no long answer;—persist or forbear will satisfy and influence, Sir, your unworthy servant,
“J. Fletcher.”[[16]]
Wesley’s answer to this important letter has not been preserved. Perhaps no letter was written. Wesley was now in London. Parliament met eight days after Fletcher wrote to him. Public affairs were in a critical condition, and, no doubt, Mr. Hill would feel it a duty to be present at the opening of the session. When he came to London to fulfil his parliamentary duties, it was his custom to bring his sons and their tutor with him. That Fletcher was now in London is evident from the following letter, addressed to Wesley within three weeks after the date of his former one. Of course, he would have an interview with Wesley as early as possible, and in all likelihood Wesley, at this interview, not only advised him to be ordained, but likewise dissuaded him from his purpose to return to Switzerland. There is no reference in the letter to Fletcher’s proposed ordination, for, doubtless, that was a matter already settled. Fletcher had been attending sacramental services in Wesley’s London chapels; and it had occurred to him that these services might be much improved, and Wesley himself considerably relieved. To say the least, the letter is full of interest, and contains a hint which, in large societies, might be profitably adopted.