During this trip they met with a classical scholar who said he had "travelled all over Europe, and had passed through all the societies in England to find a person whose life corresponded with the Gospels and with Paul's Epistles." Almost defiantly he demanded of Mr. Ireland if he knew a single clergyman or Dissenting minister in his native land possessed of £100 a year who would not desert his living for any other if offered double that amount. Mr. Ireland triumphantly pointed to his travelling companion, saying, "_That_ man would not!"
The traveller turned to Mr. Fletcher and began a religious argument, which the two kept up at intervals for a whole week. The Vicar overcame his opponent again and again, and though the latter lost his temper continually over his repeated defeats, the calm, sweet reasonableness of Fletcher's spirit, as much as the overwhelming weight of his arguments for Jesus Christ, made a lasting impression upon his mind. Eight years later he showed his appreciation by becoming the Vicar's host in Provence, and treating him with the greatest reverence and attention.
While in Paris he was sent for to visit a sick woman. Information having been given to a magistrate which ascribed to him wrong motives, a garbled case was got up, and an order of apprehension was issued from the King. An officer called at the house where the friends were staying to serve the order. Mr. Ireland stepped out and, without mentioning his name, said quietly, "Sir, have you an order for me?" "I have," responded the officer, taking him for Fletcher. They went off together, and Mr. Fletcher was well out of the city before the magistrate disgustedly discovered the mistake.
When in the south of France, Fletcher determined to visit the Protestants of the Cevennes Mountains, and nothing would serve him but that he should perform the long and difficult journey on foot, with but a staff in his hand. He disdained to appear well cared for, and on horseback, at the doors of those whose fathers were hunted for their faith from rock to rock. He set out in his own fashion, therefore; on the first night of his travels begging the use of a chair in some humble cottage until morning. The peasant was reluctant to admit his strange guest, but when he had heard him talk and pray, himself, no less than his wife and children, were affected to tears. "I nearly refused to let a stranger into my house," related the peasant to his neighbours, "but when he came I found more angel than man."