“Nyon, July 15, 1778.
“My Dear Friend,—I have ventured to preach once, and to expound once in the church. Our ministers are very kind, and preach to the purpose. A young one of this town gave us lately a very excellent gospel sermon.
“Grown-up people stand fast in their stupidity, or in their self-righteousness. The day I preached, I met some children in my wood gathering strawberries. I spoke to them about our common Father. We felt a touch of brotherly affection. They said they would sing to their Father, as well as the birds; and followed me, attempting to make such melody as you know is commonly made in these parts. I outrode them, but some of them had the patience to follow me home; and said they would speak with me. The people of the house stopped them, saying, I would not be troubled with children. They cried, and said, they were sure I would not say so, for I was their good brother. The next day, when I heard this, I enquired after them, and invited them to come and see me; which they have done every day since. I make them little hymns, which they sing. Some of them are unde, sweet drawings. Yesterday, I wept for joy on hearing one of them speak, as an experienced believer in Bristol would have done, of conviction of sin, and of the joy unspeakable in Christ that followed. Last Sunday, I met them in the wood; there were a hundred of them, and as many adults. Our first pastor has since desired me to desist from preaching in the wood (for I had exhorted), for fear of giving umbrage; and I have complied, from a concurrence of circumstances which are not worth mentioning; I therefore now meet them in my father’s yard.”[[442]]
What a contrast to this scene of gentleness among children is the following!
Fletcher had a nephew, who had been in the Sardinian army, where his ungentlemanly and profligate conduct had given such general offence to his brother officers that they determined to compel him to leave their corps, or to fight them all in succession. After engaging in two or three duels, with various success, the young bravo left the service, and now, during Fletcher’s present visit, he returned to Switzerland. His resources were soon spent in profligacy; and, gaining access to his uncle, General De Gons, he 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.” The General was a brave man, but, seeing himself in the power of a desperado capable of any mischief, he wrote the draft. “Uncle,” said the young fellow, “you must do another thing; you must promise me, on your honour, to use no means to recover the draft, or to bring me to justice.” The General promised, and the bandit rode away triumphantly. Passing the door of his uncle Fletcher, he called upon him, and told him General De Gons had generously given him five hundred crowns. Fletcher doubted the truthfulness of this statement. The draft was produced. “Let me see it,” said Fletcher. It was handed to him. Fletcher examined it, and remarked, “It is indeed my brother’s writing, and it astonishes me; because my brother is not wealthy, and I know that he justly disapproves your conduct, and that you are the last in the family to whom he would make such a present.” Then, folding the draft and putting it into his pocket, Fletcher added, “It strikes me, young man, that you have obtained this draft improperly; and, in honesty, I cannot return it without my brother’s approbation.” Out came the pistol, and was levelled at Fletcher’s breast. “Return it,” cried the young scoundrel, “or I will take your life.” “My life,” calmly replied Fletcher, “is secure in the protection of the Almighty Power who guards it; nor will He suffer it to be the forfeit of your rashness, or my integrity. Do you think that I, who have been a minister of God for five-and-twenty years, am afraid of death? It is for you to fear death, who have every reason to fear it. You are a gamester and a cheat, yet call yourself a gentleman! You are the seducer of female innocence, and still you say that you are a gentleman! You are a duellist and your hand is red with blood, and for this you call yourself a man of honour! Look there, Sir! look there! See, the broad eye of heaven is upon us. Tremble in the presence of your Maker, who can in a moment kill your body, and for ever damn your soul!” The culprit turned pale; then he argued, threatened, and entreated. Sometimes, taking out his pistol, he fixed himself against the door to prevent egress; and, at other times, closed on frail Fletcher, menacing him with instantaneous death. All was of no avail. The poor country parson was as valorous as the most heroic soldier. He gave no alarm to the family; he sought no weapon; he attempted no escape; he simply conversed with the calmness of a hero and a saint. At length, the young fellow began to be affected; and now, having gained the victory, Fletcher addressed him in another strain: “I cannot return my brother’s draft,” said he; “yet I feel for your distress, and will endeavour to relieve it. My brother Gons, at my request, I am sure will give you a hundred crowns; I will do the same; perhaps my brother Henry will do as much; and I hope your own family will make up the five hundred crowns among them.” Fletcher then fell upon his knees, and began to pray; uncle and nephew parted, and the family, by Fletcher’s mediation, furnished the young scapegrace with the five hundred crowns he had feloniously attempted to extort.[[443]]
Amidst such scenes, Fletcher did not forget his friends at Madeley. On July 18, he wrote three messages:—
To his curate, the Rev. Mr. Greaves.—“I trust you lay yourself out for the good of the flock committed to your care. I shall be glad to hear that they grow in grace, and humble love.”
To the congregation in Madeley church.—“John Fletcher begs a farther interest in the prayers of the congregation of Madeley; and desires those, who assemble to serve God in the church, to help him to return public thanks to Almighty God for many mercies received; especially, for being able to do a little ministerial duty. He humbly beseeches them to serve God as Christians, and to love one another as brethren; neglecting no means of grace, and rejoicing in all the hopes of glory.”
To the Methodist Societies “in Madeley, Dawley, and the Banks.”—“We[“We] are all called to grow in grace, and, consequently, in love, which is the greatest of all Christian graces. Your prayers for my soul and my body have not been without answer. Blessed be God! Glory be to His rich mercy in Christ, I live yet the life of faith; as to my body, I recover some strength. God bless you all, with all the blessings brought to the Church by Christ Jesus, and by the other Comforter! My love to the preachers” (John Murlin and Robert Roberts), “whom I beg you will thank in my name.”[[444]]
Two months later (September 15), he wrote to his friend Thomas York:—