“I have heard two very different accounts of the manner wherein he had the first notice of the people called Methodists; but I think it reasonable to prefer to any other that which I received from his own mouth. This was as follows:—
“When Mr. Hill went up to London to attend the Parliament, he took his family and Mr. Fletcher with him. While they stopped at St. Albans, he walked out into the town, and did not return till they were set out for London. A horse being left for him, he rode after, and overtook them in the evening. Mr. Hill asking him why he stayed behind, he said, ‘As I was walking, I met with a poor old woman, who talked so sweetly of Jesus Christ that I knew not how the time passed away.’ ‘I shall wonder,’ said Mrs. Hill, ‘if our tutor does not turn Methodist by-and-by.’ ‘Methodist, Madame!’ said he, ‘pray, what is that?’ She replied, ‘Why, the Methodists are a people that do nothing but pray; they are praying all day and all night.’ ‘Are they?’ said he; ‘then, by the help of God, I will find them out.’ He did find them out not long after, and was admitted into the society; and from this time, whenever he was in town, he met in Mr. Richard Edwards’s class. This he found so profitable to his soul that he lost no opportunity of meeting; and he retained a peculiar regard for Mr. Edwards till the day of his death.”[[7]]
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.
“When I saw that all my endeavours availed nothing towards my conquering sin, I almost resolved to sin on, and to go at last to hell. But, I remember, there was a sort of sweetness even in the midst of this abominable thought. If I go to hell, said I, I will still love God there; and since I cannot be an instance of His mercy in heaven, I will be an instance of His justice among the devils; and if I put forth His glory one way or the other, I am content.
“But I soon recovered the ground I had lost. Christ died for all, thought I; then He died for me; and, as I sincerely desire to be His, He will surely take me to Himself. He will surely let me know before I die that He died for me. But then, I thought, this may only be in my dying hour, and that is a long time to wait. But I answered thus: My Saviour was above thirty-three years working out my salvation; let me wait for Him as long, and then I may talk of impatience. Does God owe me anything? Is He bound to time and place? Do I deserve anything at His hands but damnation?
“So I went on, sinning and repenting, and sinning again; but still calling on God’s mercy through Christ. I was now beat out of all my strongholds of pride. I felt my helplessness, and lay at the foot of the throne of grace. I cried, though coldly, yet I believe sincerely, ‘Lord, save me! Give me justifying faith in Thy blood! Cleanse me from my sins!’ I seldom went to private prayer, but I thought, ‘Perhaps this is the happy hour when I shall prevail with God;’ but still I was disappointed.
“On Sunday, January 19, 1755, I heard an excellent sermon on, ‘Being justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ.’ I heard it attentively, but my heart was not moved. I was only more convinced that I was an unbeliever—that I was not justified by faith—and that I should never till then have peace with God. The hymn after the sermon suited the subject that had been treated of, but I could not join in singing it. I sat mourning, whilst others rejoiced in the Lord their Saviour.
“The following day, I begged of God to show me all the wickedness of my heart, and to fit me for His mercy. I besought Him to increase my convictions, for I was afraid I did not mourn enough for my sins. But I found relief in Mr. Wesley’s Journal, where I learned that we should not build on what we feel; but that we should go to Christ with all our sins and all our hardness of heart.