“The fear Mr. Hill has, that I should lessen his interest at Shrewsbury at the next election,—the shyness of the neighbouring clergy,—and the want I feel of an ordination from the great Shepherd and Bishop of my soul, will probably prevent my preaching at all in the country. O may the Spirit of God preach the Gospel to my heart! “Generous as you are, Madam, I believe you would have saved me the shame of receiving the present you made me at Paddington, had you foreseen the uneasy thoughts it raised in my heart. ‘Is not this making godliness a gain? Can I in conscience receive what is devoted to the poor when I am not in actual want?’ I am not ashamed of living upon charity, but to receive it, without being an immediate object of charity, gives me more uneasiness than want could possibly do. And now I am deprived, for many months, of the unspeakable advantage of living upon Providence, and must live upon a stock, as well as the rich of this world! Is not this a lesson? And does not your generosity, Madam, bid me look to Jesus for _poverty of spirit_, without which all outward acts are nothing but pride, sin, misery, and lies? “I am, with gratitude and shame, your ladyship’s unworthy servant, “J. FLETCHER.”[64] Footnote 64: “Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon,” vol. i., p. 234. Fletcher was without employment. What was the best course to take? He might have permanently united himself to the Wesley brothers; or he might have devoted himself to the congregations of the Countess of Huntingdon. But another path was marked out for him by an unerring Providence. He had been of great service to the sons of Mr. Hill; and Mr. Hill was desirous of promoting his preferment. The living of Dunham, in Cheshire, was now vacant, and Mr. Hill informed Fletcher that it was at his service. “The parish,” said he, “is small, the duty light, the income good (£400 per annum), and it is situated in a fine, healthy, sporting country.” “Alas!” replied Fletcher, “alas, Sir, Dunham will not suit me; there is too much money, and too little labour.” “Few clergymen make such objections,” rejoined Mr. Hill. “It is a pity to decline such a living, especially as I know not that I can find you another. What shall we do? Would you like Madeley?” “That, Sir,” said Fletcher, “would be the very place for me.” “My object,” answered Mr. Hill, “is to make you comfortable in your own way. If you prefer Madeley, I shall find no difficulty in persuading Mr. Chambers to exchange it for Dunham, which is worth more than twice as much as Madeley.”[65] Footnote 65: Cox’s “Life of Fletcher,” p. 32.