“Nyon, September 15, 1780.
“My Dear Fellow-labourer,—I had fixed the time of my departure for this month; but now two hindrances stand in my way. When I came to collect the parts of my manuscript, I found the most considerable part wanting; and, after a thousand searches, I was obliged to write it over again. This accident compelled me to put off my journey; and now the change of weather has brought back some symptoms of my disorder. I speak, or rather whisper, with difficulty; but I hope the quantity of grapes I begin to eat will have as good an effect upon me as in the last two autumns.
“Have patience then a little while. If things are not as you could wish, you can do but as I have done for many years,—learn patience by the things which you suffer. Crossing our will, getting the better of our inclinations, and growing in experience, are no mean advantages, and they may all be yours.
“Mr. Ireland writes me word that if I return to England now, the winter will undo all I have been doing for my health for many years. However, I have not quite laid aside the design of spending the winter with you; but don’t expect me till you see me. I am, nevertheless, firmly purposed that, if I do not set out this autumn, I shall do so next spring, as early as I can.
“Till I had this relapse, I was able to exhort, in a private room, three times a week; but the Lord Lieutenant will not allow me to get into a pulpit, though they permit the schoolmasters, who are laymen, to put on a band and read the Church prayers; so high runs the prejudice. The clergy, however, tell me that if I will renounce my ordination, and get Presbyterian Orders among them, they will allow me to preach, and on these terms one of the ministers of this town offers me his curacy. A young clergyman of Geneva, tutor to my nephew, appears to me a truly converted man; and he is so pleased when I tell him there are converted souls in England, that he will go with me to learn English, and converse with the British Christians. He wrote last summer, with such force, to some of the clergy, who are stirring up the fire of persecution, that he made them ashamed, and we have since had peace from that quarter.
“There is little genuine piety in these parts; nevertheless, there is yet some of the form of it; so far as to go to the Lord’s table regularly four times a year. There meet the adulterers, the drunkards, the swearers, the infidels, and even the materialists. They have no idea of the double damnation that awaits hypocrites. They look upon the partaking of that sacrament as a ceremony enjoined by the magistrate. At Zurich, the first town of this country, they have lately beheaded a clergyman who wanted to betray his country to the Emperor, to whom it chiefly belonged. It is the town of the great reformer, Zuinglius; yet there they poisoned the sacramental wine a few years ago. I mention this to show you there is great need to bear a testimony against the faults of the clergy here; and, if I cannot do it from the pulpit, I must try to do it from the press. Their canons, which were composed by two hundred and thirty pastors, at the time of the Reformation, are so spiritual and apostolic that I design to translate them into English, if I am spared.
“Farewell, my dear brother. Take care, good, constant, care of the flock committed to your charge; especially the sick and the young. Salute all our dear parishioners. Let me still have a part in your prayers, public and private; and rejoice in the Lord, as, through grace, I am enabled to do in all my little tribulations.”[[477]]
On the same day, Fletcher wrote to Mr. Thomas York:—
“I have been so well, that my friends here thought of giving me a wife; but what should I do with a Swiss wife at Madeley? I want rather an English nurse; but more still a mighty Saviour, and, thanks be to God! that I have. Help me to rejoice in that never-dying, never-moving Friend.
“Having heard that my dear friend Ireland has discharged the greatest part of my debt, I have not sent the money; but I hope to bring with me £100, to reimburse my friends in part, till I can do it altogether. But I shall never be able to pay you the debt of kindness I have contracted with you. I look to Jesus, my Surety, for that. May He repay you a thousand-fold!”[[478]]