It was not, however, in Mr. Edwards’s class that Fletcher found peace with God. A few months after his decease, a 12 mo. pamphlet of sixty-four pages was published by his widow, entitled “A Letter to Mons. H. L. de la Fléchère, Assessor Ballival of Nyon, in the Canton of Berne, Switzerland, on the Death of his Brother, the Reverend John William de la Fléchère, Twenty-five Years Vicar of Madeley, Shropshire.” In that letter it is stated, that, “from the time he heard the Methodists, he became more and more conscious that some inward change was necessary to make him happy. He now began to ‘strive with the utmost diligence according to his light, hoping by _much doing_ to render himself acceptable to God.’ But, one day, hearing a sermon preached by a clergyman, whose name was Green, he was convinced he did not understand the nature of _saving faith_. ‘Is it possible,’ said he, ‘that I who have always been accounted so religious, who have made divinity my study, and received the premium of piety (so called) from the university for my writings on divine subjects,—is it possible that I am yet so ignorant as not to know what faith is?’ But the more he examined, the more he was convinced of the momentous truth. He now became sensible of inbred sin, and sought, by the most rigorous austerities, to conquer an evil nature; but the more he strove, the more he saw and felt that all his soul was sin.” Mrs. Fletcher continues the narrative of his conversion by giving the following extract from his diary:— “1755. January 12.—I received the sacrament, though my heart was as hard as a flint. The following day, I felt the tyranny of sin more than ever, and an uncommon coldness in my religious duties. I felt the burden of my corruptions heavier than ever. The more I prayed for conquest over sin, the more I was conquered. The thoughts which engrossed my mind were generally these: I am undone. I have wandered from God. I have trampled under foot the frequent convictions God has been pleased to work upon my heart. Instead of going straight to Christ, I have lost my time in fighting against sin with the dim light of reason, and the use of the means of grace. I fear my notions of Christ are only speculative, and do not reach the heart. I _never had faith_, and without faith it is impossible to please God. Then every thought, word, and work of mine have only been sin and wickedness before God, though ever so specious before men. All my righteousness is as filthy rags. I am a very devil, though of an inferior sort, and if I am not renewed before I go hence, hell will be my portion to all eternity.