“Your affectionate friend and brother,

“John Wesley.”[[1]]

In all respects, Wesley’s letter is remarkable. He wished Methodism to be perpetuated; but he was convinced that this could not be done unless the ruling and administrative power could be confided, not to the Conference, or to a committee of the Conference, but to a single person. His description of the necessary qualifications of such a ruler is worthy of being studied. Especially ought Methodist preachers and the Methodist people all over the world, and in all generations, to notice the fact that Wesley’s first and pre-eminent qualification was that he who “presided both over the preachers and people must be a man of faith and love, and one who had a single eye to the advancement of the kingdom of God.” For thirty-eight years, since he left the Oxford University, Wesley’s labours had been herculean and incessant. His health had begun to fail; so much so, that, only a few months before he wrote to Fletcher, his friends in London had become alarmed by signs of age and debility, and had contributed to provide him a carriage in which to pursue those extensive and laborious journeys, which hitherto he had made on horseback. In Edinburgh, he had undergone a medical examination by Dr. Monro, Dr. Gregory, and Dr. Hamilton, after which he wrote: “1772, May 18. They satisfied me what my disorder was; and told me there was but one method of cure. Perhaps but one natural one; but I think God has more than one method of healing either the soul or the body.”

Under such circumstances, it is not surprising that Wesley wished to have in training his successor; and he seems to have had no difficulty in nominating him. His brother Charles was living, and, among his itinerant preachers, there was a small band of remarkable men, including Alexander Mather, Thomas Olivers, George Shadford, John Pawson, Thomas Hanby, William Thompson, Thomas Taylor, John Nelson, Thomas Rankin, Christopher Hopper, Joseph Benson, George Story, Thomas Rutherford, Richard Whatcoat, Joseph Pilmore, Francis Asbury, and others; but all these were passed over, and the man he desired and nominated to be his successor was the saintly Swiss, John William de la Flechère, Vicar of Madeley.

The character and the life of such a man must be worthy of attention. Wesley, a keen judge of men, thought him qualified to be the “προεστως” of the Methodists. His reply to Wesley’s proposal need not be inserted here. The position was the highest Wesley could offer him. Was he worthy of it? Let the reader of the following pages form his own opinion. Enough has been said to justify the present attempt to delineate the man.

CHAPTER I.
FROM FLETCHER’S BIRTH TO HIS COMING
TO ENGLAND
IN 1752.

JEAN GUILLAUME DE LA FLECHÈRE was a descendant of one of the most respectable families in Switzerland; a family, in fact, which was a branch of an earldom of Savoy. After his marriage, Fletcher’s wife found in his desk a seal. “Is this yours?” she asked. “Yes,” replied the poor country parson; “but I have not used it for many years.” “Why?” “Because it bears a coronet, nearly such as is the insignia of your English dukes. Were I to use that seal, it might lead to frivolous inquiries about my family, and subject me to the censure of valuing myself on such distinctions.”[[2]]

For some time the father of John Fletcher was a general officer in the French army, but, on his marriage, he retired from the service. Later in life, he accepted a colonelcy in the militia of Switzerland.

John, his father’s youngest son, was born at Nyon, on September 12th, 1729. His birthplace was a fine old mansion, that had withstood the storms of centuries, and, like many of the ancient houses in Switzerland, was entered by a spiral stone staircase, which opened into a spacious hall. “The house where I was born,” said Fletcher, “has one of the finest prospects in the world. We have a shady wood, near the lake, where I can ride in the cool all the day, and enjoy the singing of a multitude of birds.” From one of the windows of Fletcher’s ancestral home, there was a magnificent view of hill and dale, vineyards and pastures, stretching right away to the distant Jura mountains. At a few paces from the château, there was a terrace overlooking Lake Leman, with its clear blue waters and its gracefully-curved and richly-wooded bays. On the right hand, at a distance of fifteen miles, was Geneva, the cradle of the Reformation; on the left, Lausanne and the celebrated castle of Chillon. High up in the heavens were Alpine peaks, embosoming scenes the most beautiful; and, not far away, was Mont Blanc, robed in perpetual and unsullied snow.

Not much is known of the early life of Fletcher. A few anecdotes concerning him have been preserved by his biographers, and these shall be given in as brief a form as possible.