From the concluding part of Fletcher’s letter, it would seem that he was not now resident in Mr. Hill’s London mansion, but had “a little hired chamber” of his own. The probability is, that, during the Easter holidays of Parliament, Mr. Hill had returned to Shropshire, and that Fletcher had remained in London to officiate for the two Wesleys in West Street chapel; and, perhaps, in the Foundery, and in the chapel at Spitalfields. Twelve months previously, the Methodist Societies connected with these three places of worship had been blessed with the unspeakably precious ministry of the never-to-be-forgotten Thomas Walsh. “Lord,” said he, when leaving them on February 19, 1758, “Lord, Thou hast given me much favour in the eyes of this people. They show it by words and deeds; their prayers and tears. Reward them a thousandfold!” Seventeen days after the date of Fletcher’s foregoing letter, Thomas Walsh departed this life in Dublin, in the twenty-eighth year of his age. During his last days on earth, he was pre-eminently “in heaviness,” great, distressing “heaviness, through manifold temptations.” At length, Satan was defeated, victory came, Walsh rapturously exclaimed, “He is come! He is come! My Beloved is mine, and I am His! His for ever!” And, uttering these words, he triumphantly expired.[[40]] Fletcher had become acquainted with Walsh by attending his ministry in Wesley’s London chapels. On hearing of his death, he wrote the following impassioned letter to Charles Wesley:—
“London, April—, 1759.
“My Dear Sir,—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 his prayer not heard till the twelfth hour was just expiring? Oh where shall I appear! I, who am an unprofitable servant! Would to God my eyes were fountains of waters 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 that 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! But I have 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; but I see my heart is so full of deceit that I cannot depend on my knowledge of myself.
“You are not well! Are you, then, going to leave us, like poor Walsh? Ah! stay, and permit me to go first; that, when my soul leaves the body, you may commend it to the mercy of my Saviour. The day Mr. Walsh died, the Lord gave our brethren the spirit of supplication; and many unutterable groans were offered up for him at Spitalfields, where I was. Who shall render us the same kind offices? Is not our hour near? O, my God, when Thou comest, prepare us, and we shall be ready! You owe your children an elegy on Mr. Walsh’s death, and you cannot employ your poetic talents on a better subject.”[[41]]
In this interesting letter, Fletcher prayed for success at West Street Chapel, even if the success was limited to “only one soul.” His prayer was answered. At this period, there lived, in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, Owen and Alice Price, natives of Dolgelly, in North Wales. One of their four children was named Mary, and was now fifteen years of age. In 1750, when an earthquake alarmed all London, little Mary was at school. The house in which the school was kept undulated; several windows were broken; the children were thrown down on their faces; and a hoarse rumbling noise was heard for nearly a minute. Mary resolved, henceforth, to serve her Maker. She read the Bible; she prayed; but she was not happy. Some one recommended her to attend the preaching of the Methodists; but she hesitated to do this, because the Methodists were despised, and her parents were opposed to enthusiasts. At length, Mary went to the chapel in West Street, Seven Dials. It was on a Sunday morning; and in those days Methodist meeting-houses were crowded on Sunday mornings, at nine o’clock. Mary made her way down the aisle; the minister, who was reading the prayers, she had never seen before; but his manner, his tones, and the glancing of his eyes, were irresistibly affecting. The minister was Fletcher, and there and then Mary resolved to be a Methodist. The preaching and praying of Fletcher were greatly blessed to her soul’s profit; and, after a severe struggle, she took courage to stay, at the close of the public service, to receive the sacrament. At that period in the history of Methodism, no one was allowed to remain who had not a society ticket, or a note from the officiating minister; and, accordingly, the faithful steward told the Welsh maiden she must either go to the vestry for a note, or quit the chapel. She went, and, with fear and trembling, asked Fletcher’s permission to remain. “Come,” cried he, “come, my dear young friend, come, and receive the memorials of your dying Lord. If sin is your burden, behold the Crucified. Partake of His broken body and shed blood, and sink into the bottomless ocean of His love.” Of course, Mary stayed. For three months afterwards, she sought the Lord diligently in the means of grace; and then, under a sermon preached by Thomas Maxfield, found peace with God, through faith in Jesus Christ. In 1782, Mary Price married Peter Kruse; Wesley appointed her to be the leader of a class at City Road, where she and her husband worshipped; and, after being a godly Methodist for fifty-nine years, she peacefully expired, Joseph Benson preaching her funeral sermon, and her corpse being interred in the burial-ground behind the City Road Chapel.[[42]]
Another convert may be mentioned here. Richard Hill (afterwards Sir Richard) was the eldest son of Sir Rowland Hill, the first baronet of a distinguished and ancient family.[family.] Richard was now twenty-seven years of age. From childhood, he had been blest with the strivings of God’s Holy Spirit, and of late had been unutterably anxious about his soul. He writes:—
“About October, 1757, I set myself to work with all the earnestness of a poor perishing mariner, who is every moment in expectation of shipwreck. I fasted, prayed, and meditated. I read the Scriptures, communicated, and gave much alms. But these things brought no peace to my soul; on the contrary, I saw, what I had never seen before, that all my works were mixed with sin and imperfection. My terrors increased, insomuch that I could neither eat nor sleep, and did not think it possible for me to live a week. Everybody observed how ill I looked, and I had much ado to conceal the straits I was in from all about me. After having suffered in this manner a short time, I made my case known to a clergyman; but all he said to me—which indeed was not much to the purpose—had little or no effect. What to do I knew not. Alas! I had no acquaintance with any one who seemed to have the least experience in such a case as mine. Those about me showed the greatest concern for my situation, and offered their remedies for my relief, such as company, physic, and exercise, which, in order to oblige them, I complied with; but my disorder was not to be removed by these carnal quackeries. What I wanted was a skilful physician for my soul; but where to find such an one I knew not.
“I recollected, however, that once, if not oftener, the Rev. Mr. Fletcher, then tutor to two neighbouring young gentlemen, had, in my hearing, been spoken of in a very disrespectful manner, for things which seemed to me to savour of a truly Christian spirit. I, therefore, determined to make my case known to him, and, accordingly, wrote him a letter, without mentioning my name, giving him some account of my situation, and begging him, for God’s sake, to meet me that very night at an inn at Salop, in which place I then was. Though Mr. Fletcher had four or five miles to walk, yet he came punctually to the appointment, spoke to me in a very comfortable manner, and gave me to understand that he had very different thoughts of my state from what I had myself. After our discourse, he went to prayer with me, and, among the other petitions that he put up in my behalf, he prayed that I might not trust in my own righteousness; an expression the import of which I scarcely knew.
“After[“After] my conversation with Mr. Fletcher, I was rather easier; but this decrease of my terrors was of short duration. I allowed that the promises he would have me apply to myself belonged to the generality of sinners, but I thought they were not intended for me. I, therefore, wrote again to Mr. Fletcher, telling him that, however others might take comfort from the Scripture promises, I feared none of them belonged to me. I told him also, that I found my heart to be exceeding hard and wicked; and that, as all my duties proceeded from a dread of punishment, and not from the principles of faith and love, and were withal so very defective, I thought it was impossible God should ever accept them. In answer to this, the kind and sympathising Mr. Fletcher immediately wrote me a sweet and comfortable letter, telling me that the perusal of the account I had given him had caused him to shed tears of joy, because he saw the Lord had convinced me of the insufficiency of all my own doings to justify me before God, and of the necessity of a saving faith in the blood of Jesus. He also sent me ‘The Life and Death of Mr. Thomas Halyburton,’ which book I read with greatest eagerness.”