In spite of its beautiful situation, Madeley was wont at times to be swept by a malignant fever, which carried away many of its victims to the grave Shortly before the visit of Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher to Dublin, such a visitation had occurred, the faithful Sally being attacked by it, and nursed to convalescence by mistress and friend.

Two years later it became Sally’s turn to play the part of nurse, for Mrs. Fletcher, who had visited two parishioners who were dying of the pestilence, was herself stricken.

It was a terrible time of testing for her devoted husband In anguish of mind, but with true surrender of his will to God, he yielded his treasure upon an altar of sacrifice akin to that of Abraham’s building; but in answer to his devotion and prayer he received her again as alive from the dead.

With a peculiarly solemn joy he welcomed his wife back to his side to share the work they so truly loved, but anxious lest he should place too much reliance upon the precious things God had given him here, he would call to her several times in a day to drop every duty for a few moments that together they might enjoy communion with God Says Mrs. Fletcher:—­

“We spent much time in prayer for the fulness of the Spirit, and were led to an act of abandonment (as we called it) of our whole selves into the hands of God, to do or to suffer whatever was pleasing to Him.”

* * * * *

Only a fortnight after his wife’s recovery Fletcher was out visiting his people from three in the afternoon until nine at night, and, August though it was, he returned with a chill.

The following Sunday he almost fainted while reading prayers in the church His wife pressed up to the desk with a friend or two, and begged him to leave the service to another He gently refused; windows were opened, some flowers brought to refresh him with their sweet scent, and he was able to mount the steps of the pulpit, where he preached with power from “How excellent is Thy lovingkindness, O God! therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Thy wings.”

The communion service which succeeded was a very lengthy one, but he administered to those who came until nearly two o’clock, breaking the silence with many verses of hymns and exhortations.

When the long service was over, Mrs. Fletcher led him straight to bed, but the exertion had been too much; he fainted, and the two following days lay upon a couch and slept much.

Mrs. Fletcher, very simply but touchingly, tells the story of those few last days:—­

“On Wednesday, August 10th, he told me he had received such a manifestation of the full meaning of the words, ‘God is love,’ that he could not express it ‘It fills me,’ he said, ’it fills me every moment O Polly! my dear Polly! God is love! Shout! Shout aloud! Oh! it so fills me that I want a gust of praise to go to the ends of the earth But it seems as if I could not speak much longer Let us fix upon a sign between ourselves’ (tapping me twice with his finger) ’By this I mean that God is love, and we will draw each other into God Observe! by this we will draw each other into God.’ Sally coming in, he cried, ’O Sally! God is love! Shout, both of you! I want to hear you shout His praise!’ All this time his medical attendant hoped he was in no danger He knew his disease to be the fever; but as he had no bad headache, slept much without the least delirium, and had an almost regular pulse, the symptoms were thought to be favourable.

“On Thursday, August 11th, his speech began to fail, but to his friendly doctor he would not be silent while he had any power to speak, often saying, ’O Sir, you take much thought for my body; give me leave to take thought for your soul.’ When I could scarcely understand anything he said, I spoke the words, ‘God is love!’ Instantly he caught them, and broke out in a rapture, ’God is love, love, love! O for the gust of praise I want to sound.’ Here his voice again failed If I named his sufferings he would smile, and make the sign.

“On Friday, August 12th, finding his body covered with spots, I so far understood them as to feel a sword pierce through my soul As I knelt by his bed, with my hand in his, entreating the Lord to be with us in this tremendous hour, he strove to say many things, but could not At length, pressing my hand, and often repeating the sign, he breathed out ‘Head of the Church, be head to my wife!’”

Mrs. Fletcher then repeated two lines in which he had always found great comfort:—­

Jesu’s blood, through earth and skies,
Mercy, free, boundless mercy, cries.

With much difficulty he responded :—­

Mercy’s full power I soon shall prove,
Loved with an everlasting love.

“If Jesus is very present with thee lift thy right hand,” said his wife, as she bent over him He raised it Waiting a moment or two she said, “If the prospect of glory opens before thee, repeat the sign.” Twice he lifted that feeble right hand in testimony, then fell into coma, lying with his eyes open and fixed.

While this was taking place in the Vicarage the church close by was the scene of many tears Fletcher’s people gathered there from time to time to pour out their supplications to God that He would spare their beloved pastor; but none could find it in his heart to lead a service, or raise a hymn.

In the cottages whole families sat waiting for news, while messengers, who went to and from the Vicarage, were waylaid on every side for tidings of joy or sorrow.

Numbers of poor villagers were wont to come from a distance every Sunday, being entertained in their Vicar’s kitchen between the services. These lingered about the house in distress, unable to persuade themselves to seek their distant homes while one so dear to them lay probably dying.

“If we could only look at him once more!” they whispered pleadingly.

Accordingly the door of the sick room was flung wide, the curtains drawn back from the bed, and this infinitely pathetic procession of peasants crept softly past the open door, each one pausing for a long look of love upon him whom they revered as spiritual father and saint.

For the first time in their experience there was no kindling light in his eye, no gleam of welcome from the lips which had so often parted in smiles and blessing His spirit hovered on the borders of a land beyond their reach.

That Sabbath Day had scarcely spent itself when from earthly sleep Jean Guillaume De La FlÉchÈre entered into eternal waking, so one in spirit with his Lord that the change could have been no more surprising than to Enoch of old.

To the woman who knelt at his bedside until that last dread moment, the parting was no ordinary sorrow.

“I am truly a desolate woman, who hath no helper but Thee!” she wailed.

“Three years nine months and two days I have possessed my heavenly-minded husband; but now the sun of my earthly joy is set for ever! and my soul is filled with an anguish which only finds its consolation in a total abandonment and resignation to the will of God.

“That awful night, when I had hung over my dear husband for many hours, expecting every breath to be his last, and during which time he could hot speak to, nor take any notice of me, a flood of unspeakable sorrow overspread my heart, and quite overwhelmed my spirit... My fatigue had been great; I was barely recovered from my fever, and this stroke so tore my nerves that it was an inlet to much temptation In former parts of my life I have felt deep sorrow, but such were now my feelings that no words I am able to think of can convey an adequate idea thereof.

“The next morning, O my God! what a cup didst Thou put into my hand! Not only my beloved husband, but, it appeared to me, my Saviour also was torn from me! Clouds and darkness surrounded both soul and body The sins even of my infancy came before me, and assaulted me as thick as hail! I seemed to have no love, no faith, no light—­and yet I could not doubt but I should see the smiling face of God in glory!...An unshaken belief that Christ would bring me through all, was my great support; and it seemed to me that I must have been annihilated had I been moved from that anchor... All my religion seemed shrunk into one point, viz., a constant cry, ’Thy will be done! I will, yes; I will glorify Thee! even in this fire.’”

It was at first a matter of some distress to Mrs. Fletcher that she must leave the home where they had been so happy together Every other place alike looked desolate To her relief it was arranged that she should rent the Vicarage as long as she wished to do so, working as she chose among the people of the parish The son of the patron of the living became the new Vicar, and as he did not intend to reside at Madeley Mrs. Fletcher was allowed to recommend the Curate.

Thus, by God’s grace, was the labour of the saintly Vicar carried on and confirmed. The sweetness of his spirit lingered in fragrant influence upon the hearts of those whom he had blessed in life, and though eulogies abound of his remarkable talent, his gentle courtesy, his unfailing kindness, his beauty of holiness, none who spoke of him could ever forget that for himself he had only claimed the position which almost every morning and evening of his later life he had thus defined:—­

I nothing have, I nothing am;
My treasure’s in the bleeding Lamb,
Both now and evermore.

In the desolate stillness of Madeley Vicarage, where she lived for thirty years after bidding him farewell, Mrs. Mary Fletcher performed the last bit of earthly service she might do in the name of her beloved; she wrote the inscription, which appears on the following page, for his tombstone in the old churchyard they had so often crossed side by side.

Here lies the body of
the Rev John William De La FlÉchÈre,
vicar of Madeley,
who was born at Nyon, in Switzerland,
September the 12th, 1729,
and finished his course august the 14th, 1785,
in this village,
where his UNEXAMPLED labours
will long be REMEMBERED.

He EXERCISED his ministry for the SPACE of
twenty-five years
in this parish
with uncommon zeal and ability.

Many believed his report, and became
his joy and crown of rejoicing;
while others constrained him to take up
the LAMENTATION of the PROPHET:

“All the day long have I stretched out my hands
unto A DISOBEDIENT and GAINSAYING people;
yet surely my judgment is with the lord,
and my work with my God.”

“He being dead, yet SPEAKETH.”

CHAPTER XXIV.