It may be added that, some years afterwards, Dr. Adam Clarke obtained from Mr. Wood the loan of the original mould, and had a bust cast in solid brass, which is now in the possession of Mr. G. J. Stevenson. This was lent to the sculptor who chiselled the marble effigy of Wesley, now placed in the entrance-hall of the Wesleyan Theological Institution, Richmond. The face and head of the effigy were obtained from it.[[616]]
On his return to Madeley, Fletcher wrote to his friend, Mr. Ireland, as follows:—
“Madeley, September 13, 1784.
“My Dear Friend,—I keep in my sentry-box till Providence removes me. My situation is quite suited to my little strength. I may do as much or as little as I please, according to my weakness; and I have an advantage, which I can have nowhere else in such a degree,—my little field of action is just at my own door, so that if I happen to overdo myself, I have but to step from my pulpit to my bed, and from my bed to my grave. If I had a body full of vigour, and a purse full of money, I should like well enough to travel about as Mr. Wesley does; but as Providence does not call me to it, I readily submit. The snail does best in its shell; were it to aim at galloping, like the racehorse, it would be ridiculous indeed. My wife is quite of my mind with respect to the call we have to a sedentary life. We are two poor invalids, who between us make half a labourer.
“We shall have tea cheap and light very dear;[[617]] I don’t admire the change. Twenty thousand chambers walled up, and filled with foul air, are converted into so many dungeons for the industrious artizan, who, being compelled by this murderous tax, denies himself the benefit of light and air. Blessed be God! the light of heaven and the air of the spiritual world are still free.
“My dear partner sweetly helps me to drink the dregs of life, and to carry with ease the daily cross. We are not long for this world—we see it, we feel it; and, by looking at death and his conqueror, we fight beforehand our last battle with that last enemy whom our dear Lord has overcome for us. That we may triumph over him with an humble, Christian courage is the prayer of, my dear friend, yours,
“John Fletcher.”[[618]]
Fletcher’s apprehension of the nearness of death, so far as he was concerned, was realized; but his wife did not die until thirty-one years after this, not a year of which passed without her keeping the anniversary of their wedding-day. In the present year she wrote:—
“1784, November 12. We have been married three years this day. A good day it has been to me! While reflecting on the wonderful goodness of God in my providential union with my dear husband (so far, so very far, beyond my warmest wishes), my heart was enlarged with desire to render to my God a suitable return for all His mercies!”[[619]]
On her birthday, two months previously, she had written in her journal:—