“Begging our tender regards to all our dear Christian friends, we remain, with kindest remembrance and grateful acknowledgment to our dear Mr. and Mrs. Smyth, their sincere though unworthy friends,
“John and Mary Fletcher.”
The next is a letter which, I believe, has not before been published. It was addressed to a sister of Lady Mary Fitzgerald, and is full of faith in Christ:—
“Christ Jesus is alone the desirable, the everlasting distinction and honour of men. All other advantages are like the down on the thistle, blown away in a moment. Riches are incapable of satisfying; friends are changeable; dear relations are taken away with a stroke; but, amid all the changes of life, Christ is a Rock. To see Him by faith, to lay hold on Him, to rely on Him, to live upon Him, this—this is the refuge from the storm, the shadow from the heat.
“In order that you may obtain it, nothing more or less is required, on your part, than a full and frequent confession of your own abominable heart; and kneeling, as a true beggar, at the door of mercy, declaring you come there only expecting notice and relief because God our Saviour came to redeem incarnate devils and to convert them into saints.
“I think you take a sure method to perplex yourself if you look at yourself for proof of faith. Others must see it in your works; but you must feel it in your heart. The glory of Jesus is, by faith, realized to the mind in some such manner as an infinitely grand and beauteous object in the firmament of heaven arrests the spectator on itself. It captivates him; and, by the pleasure it imparts, he is led on to view it. So it is with Jesus, our peace, strength, righteousness, salvation.
“For my own part, I am often tempted to suspect whether I am not speaking great swelling words of Christ, and yet am myself nothing more than sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal; and I find that the only successful way of answering this doubt is an immediate address to Jesus Christ, and prayer to Him, to this effect: ‘Whosoever cometh unto Thee, Thou wilt in no wise cast out. Lord, have I not come unto Thee? Am I not depending on Thee for life, as a brand plucked out of the fire? See if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!’
“My eyes look to the blessed Jesus; my heart longs to be more in His service; I mourn my corruptions; they are many and great. When I look at Him, and contemplate His finished salvation, I admire, I adore, in some measure I love. When I look at myself, my heart rises at the sight,—black and selfish, proud and carnal, covetous and unclean. I want all things that are good; but, oh! I have a blessed Lord Christ, in whom all fulness dwells for me, and for my dear friend to whom I am writing,—a fulness of pardon, wisdom, holiness, strength, peace, salvation, righteousness,—a fulness of mercy, goodness, truth,—all this, and ten thousand times more, without condition, without qualification, without workings, without servings, only for receiving. O blessed free grace of God! What a gift! And for whom? My dear friend, for you. What says the everlasting God? ‘Believe He gave His Son for sinners.’ Can God lie? Impossible! Can we have a better foundation to build upon than the promise and the oath of God?
“My very dear friend, I know you will not be angry at my preachment. I aim all I say at my own heart. I stand more in need of it than you; and I always feel my heart refreshed when I am talking or thinking of the blessed Jesus. But oh! how little I know of Him! O Thou light of the world, enlighten me! Teach me to know more of Thy infinite, unsearchable riches, that I may love Thee with an increasing love, and serve Thee with an increasing zeal till Thou bring me to glory!”
Gratitude was one of Fletcher’s characteristics. Hence, when the son of his dead friend, Mr. Charles Greenwood, of Stoke Newington, visited him at Madeley, he wrote to the loving widow:—