After this, Sir Richard Hill proceeds to relate how he found peace with God on February 18, 1758; then how he relapsed into doubts and fears, and lost all his comfort; and then how he wrote to Fletcher in April, 1759, and said:—
“My soul is again bowed down under the sense of the wrath of God. The broken law, with all its thunderings and lightnings, again stares me in the face. My hope seems to be giving up the ghost, and I see nothing before me but blackness and darkness for ever.”
Of course Fletcher replied to this letter. Before long, Sir Richard regained his lost faith and peace, and ever afterwards went on his way rejoicing.[[43]]
Thus, to an important extent, was Fletcher used in the conversion of the distinguished man, who, a few years later, became one of his sturdiest opponents in the great Calvinian controversy.
In the middle of June, 1759, Mr. Hill, M.P., and his family left London for Shropshire, and, of course, Fletcher went with them. Up to the time of his departure, Fletcher continued to preach in Wesley’s London chapels; but, in writing to Charles Wesley, under the date of June 1, he remarks, with his characteristic humbleness: “I am[“I am] here umbra pro corpore. I preach as your substitute; come, and fill worthily an office of which I am unworthy.”[[44]]
At Tern Hall, Fletcher again enjoyed his beloved retirement, and gave himself up to study, meditation, and prayer. Indeed, his whole life was now a life of prayer. “Wherever we met,” says Mr. Vaughan, “if we were alone, his first salute was, ‘Do I meet you praying?’ And, if we were conversing on any point of Divinity, he would often break off abruptly, and ask, ‘Where are our hearts now’”[now’”][[45]] Solitude, however, is often invaded by Satan. It was in the garden, where were only two human beings, that the devil gained his first victory on earth; and it was in “the wilderness” that man’s Redeemer was pre-eminently tempted by the same accursed enemy. The following, addressed to Charles Wesley, is a strange, but honest and instructive production.
“Tern, July 19, 1759.
“My Dear Sir,—Instead of apologizing for my silence, I will tell you that I have twenty times endeavoured to break it, but without effect. I will simply state the cause of it.
“This is the fourth summer that I have been brought hither, in a peculiar manner, to be tempted of the devil in a wilderness; and I have improved so little by my past exercises, that I have not defended myself better than in the first year. Being arrived here, I began to spend my time as I had determined; one part in prayer, and the other in meditation on the Holy Scriptures. The Lord blessed my devotions, and I advanced from conquering to conquer, leading every thought captive to the obedience of Jesus Christ, when it pleased God to show me some of the folds of my heart. As I looked for nothing less than such a discovery, I was extremely surprised; so much so as to forget Christ. You may judge what was the consequence. A spiritual languor seized on all the powers of my soul, and I suffered myself to be carried away quietly by a current, with the rapidity of which I was unacquainted.
“Neither doubt nor despair troubled me for a moment; my temptation took another course. It appeared to me that God would be much more glorified by my damnation than by my salvation. It seemed altogether incompatible with the holiness, the justice, and the veracity of the Supreme Being to admit so stubborn an offender into His presence. I could do nothing but be astonished at the patience of God; and I would willingly have sung those verses of Desbaraux if I had had strength:—