“The coming of Mr. Wesley’s preachers into my parish gives me no uneasiness. As I am sensible that everybody does better, and is more acceptable than myself, I should be sorry to deprive any one of a blessing; and I rejoice that the work of God goes on, by _any instrument_, or in _any place_. How far it might have been expedient to have postponed preaching regularly in my parish, till the minister of —— had been reconciled to the invasion of his; and how far this might have made my way smoother, I do not pretend to determine: time will show it, and in the meanwhile I find it good to have faith in Providence. “I fear I have left as great a stink at Bath as Mr. Brown a sweet savour here. Everything is good to me that shows me my unprofitableness; but I desire to grieve, that the good of my private humiliation is so much overbalanced by the loss of many about me.”[124] Footnote 124: Letters, 1791, p. 169. Thus did Fletcher depreciate himself. The truth is, he was in feeble health, and hardly knew it. At this time, also, two of his dear friends were dying—Miss Hatton, of Wem, and Miss Ireland, the only daughter of James Ireland, Esq., of Brislington, Bristol. Miss Hatton had been at Madeley, and Miss Ireland was about to migrate to the south of France. To these ladies, he wrote as follows:— “MADELEY, _June 21, 1766_. “MY DEAR FRIEND,—I am much concerned to hear, by Mrs. Tower, that you are so weak; but my concern has greatly increased, since I was told that the foundation of your illness was laid at Madeley; and, I am afraid, by my imprudence in taking you to the woman with whom we received the sacrament. I ask God’s pardon and yours for it; and I hope it will be the means of humbling me, and of making me more tender of my friends. “The advice you give me about my health is seasonable. I hope to follow it. I am not conscious of having neglected it; but I will endeavour that there be not so much as the shadow of a call for repeating it. “If the air at Wem does not agree with you, could you not come to Madeley? Though I am no nurse, and though I have been the contrary of one to you, I hope we should wait upon you with more tenderness than when you were here last. Mrs. Power would nurse you, and I would talk to you of the love of Jesus as well as I could. You know I perceived your bodily weakness when you were here, and charged you with a neglect of your body. If I was right, I hope you will follow the advice you give me. “Offer yourself to God for life or death, for ease or pain, for strength or weakness. Let Him choose or refuse for you; only do you choose Him for your present and eternal portion.”[125] Footnote 125: Letters, 1791, p. 170. Seven months after this, Miss Hatton peacefully expired.[126] Miss Ireland lived more than two years longer. To her, he wrote the following:—