So sad was he about the spiritual condition of his parishioners, that he applied to Wesley for one of his helpers, who was then a master in Kingswood School; believing truly that two who were of one mind, both living in communion with the Holy Ghost, had great hope of bringing to life a dead parish, even though one were not an authorised curate, and the other but a sick vicar Fletcher had learned to look past man—to God and God alone.
CHAPTER XXI.
A Wonderful Wedding
There existed no “chance” or “ill-fortune” for Fletcher Whatever happened was subject, he believed, to the over-ruling providence and direction of God, and for him there was no second causes, no human marplots He could always sing—
Thrice comfortable hope
That calms my troubled breast;
My Father’s hand prepares the cup,
And what He wills is best.
When in answer to a letter of his to Miss Bosanquet on Christian Perfection there was sent to him a reply which, by the forgetfulness of a friend, lay in a drawer for three years undelivered, he wrote on the morning of its belated arrival:—
“You speak, Madam, of a letter from Bath; I do not recollect, at present, your having favoured me with one from that place Is it my lot to be tried or disappointed in this respect? Well, the hairs of our heads, and the letters of our friends, are all numbered; not one of the former falls, not one of the latter miscarries, without the will of Him to whose orders we have long since fully and cheerfully subscribed.”
Miss Bosanquet was at this time in dire difficulties at Cross Hall Perplexed by contrary advice, embarrassed by ever-increasing financial loss, opposed by those who ridiculed her work as a mission to the mean, “a call to the care of cows and horses, sheep and pigs,” and criticised even by those to whom she acted as daily benefactor, her path was by no means an easy one, and eagerly she looked to the Lord for deliverance, although she knew not whence it would come.
She suffered more than she could ever describe through the public work she was called to do “None, O my God, but Thyself, knows what I go through for every public meeting!” she exclaimed in her diary Yet, though this shrinking was combined with exceedingly delicate health, she never shirked her duty, but went steadily on with housekeeping, farming, nursing, or public speaking, just as the Lord gave it to her to do—even consenting to stand upon a horse-block at Huddersfield to address a crowd whom otherwise she could not have reached “Indeed, for none but Thee, my Lord,” she cried after that ordeal, “would I take up this sore cross!.. O do Thine own will upon me in all things!”