An EXTRACT of LETTERS. By Mrs. L****. (continued 2)

Your ever affectionate

****

Wednesday Night, April 1754.

July 19, 1754.

I AM very glad, my dear, that your mind is in so happy a state, and that you seem to have so true a sense of the littleness of all the world calls great and desirable. The love of God, and the love of the world are directly opposite to each other. And therefore St. John says, If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him: this is a sure rule to try ourselves by. We may talk well, and act well in some outward things; nay, perhaps be zealous for the genuine doctrines of the gospel: Yet all this while, if the love of the world remains in our hearts, we may be very certain we are no Christians.—I fear you have not much opportunity of being alone, but see from your letter you make good use of that you have. However God is both able and willing to preserve (either alone or in company) the soul which constantly looks towards him. I was afraid your being at **** might hurt you, but thank God, I had no cause for fear. You seem I think rather to advance than go back. Give God the glory! For whatever of good is in you, is all from his free and boundless mercy. And cease not constantly to fight, in the strength of your Redeemer, against every sin, and fear not but he will set you free, take off the heavy burden you complain of, and cloath you with his perfect righteousness. Adieu.

*YOU tell me, my dear, that your present dark state of mind is owing to your thoughts dwelling so much on worldly objects. But carry your sincerity yet a little further, and tell me if it is not some one particular object on which your thoughts are fixed, and which rivals your Creator in your heart? I much fear this is the case: and if so, you will find it very difficult to conquer, but let not any difficulty discourage you from striving to “pluck out this right eye, and cast it from you.” The grace of God is sufficient for you, his strength is made perfect in your weakness. And you may depend upon it, that as soon as ever you have given up your idol, the sun of righteousness will again arise in your soul with healing in his wings; the God of mercy will again be known by you, as your reconciled Father in Christ; and the blessed Spirit will lead, and guide, and fill you with that peace which passes all understanding; and you will walk in all the ordinances of the Lord rejoicing.

I am your ever affectionate and faithful friend,

****

Tuesday Morning, August 12, 1754.

My dear friend,

YOUR last letter gave me great pleasure: I sincerely rejoice in the happiness of your soul, as in that of my own, and I hope God will strengthen you more and more by his grace, so that you may forsake every thing for him. Above all, sacrifice your own will: let this constantly be the language of your heart, “Lord, not my will, but thine be done.” Strive not only to be content, but to rejoice in every thing that mortifies your corrupt nature. Hourly reflect, that you are a fallen creature, sent into this world for no other end than to be restored to that nature which our first father lost, and so be made fit for the kingdom of heaven. Remember, that Christ died for you, that you might live wholly to him; and the more you do this, the more you will certainly have of that peace which passeth all understanding.

I am your ever affectionate friend,

****

September 16, 1755.

My dear friend,

I HAVE read Mr. B.’s letter, and think it exceedingly pretty; the stile is easy and flowing, the language soft and affecting, the sentiments he expresses, in regard to his friend and yourself, very beautiful. But what is all this to the purpose? Or how can this convince you, that you ought to give up those means of grace which you have found so extremely beneficial to your soul, in order to make a proper wife for Mr. C.? ’Tis true, there are several assertions in Mr. B.’s letter, designed to shew the reasonableness of your making the promise; but asserting and proving are two things. Whatever has the appearance of argument in this letter may, I imagine, be reduced to these heads: 1st. That it is absolutely wrong for any member of the church of England to attend the meetings of separatists. 2dly. That in the church of England, a soul may find every thing necessary for its attaining the highest degrees of faith and holiness. 3dly. That Mr. W. is a separatist: and 4thly. That your having any acquaintance with him, will hurt Mr. C. both in his temporal interest, and in his character as a minister.—The opinion I had conceived of Mr. B. was very high, I imagined him actuated by that spirit of universal love, which is the first and ruling principle of every soul that is born of God; and I make no doubt but this is his real character: however (in this affair) he may seem to incline to a partial selfish orthodoxy. *Could the church of England be proved to be the only church of Christ, there might be some reason for the cry of schism, which we hear so much of: but what is she, more than one of the most unexceptionable of those many divisions into which the universal church is broken? And therefore a separation from her, though causeless, or from mistaken motives, cannot properly be called making a schism in the church of Christ. For my part (but I speak it with submission to Mr. B.’s judgment) I apprehend, that the only real and dangerous schism is the want of that spirit of love, which makes us rejoice in whatever is good and excellent in people of all denominations, and ready to believe good even of those who most differ from us in ceremonies and opinion. And why a person of this spirit (suppose one in communion with the church of England) may not be allowed sometimes to hear a minister among the Presbyterians, or any other sect, if they find this minister’s preaching blest to their souls, I cannot imagine. What St. Paul says in regard to giving offence to weak brethren, is often quoted to prove what it has nothing to do with; for St. Paul surely does not mean, that he neglected those things which were profitable to his soul, for fear of giving offence to the weak; but that he refrained from outward things (such as making difference in meats, &c.) which he, as strong in faith, knew to be wholly indifferent, lest his example should tempt those who were weak to do things by which their consciences might be wounded.—As to Mr. B.’s second argument, in one sense of it, I heartily agree with him: the homilies, the articles, and liturgy of the church of England, doubtless contain all the doctrines necessary to faith and holiness. But, alas, how little are these doctrines regarded either in preaching or practice, by the generality of her ministers! Let any one who has the least degree of seriousness, look round the churches of London. Will he not see the people for the most part repeating an excellent set of prayers, just as a parrot repeats a song; and the minister giving forth doctrines from the pulpit, as directly contrary to these prayers as darkness is to light? This is so plain a matter of fact, that it cannot be contradicted; and it is as notorious, that whenever any minister in the church of England begins to preach her real doctrines, and live up to her precepts, he is immediately called a Methodist. This name is given to him as a reproach. But as it comes upon him for speaking the truth, it is in fact a glory. Ever since Christ was upon the earth, real Christians have had a nick-name: but surely no one who is sincerely bent to follow him can regard this: I doubt not but Mr. B. himself is called a Methodist. But I now come to Mr. B.’s third argument, that most dreadful charge laid against Mr. W. that he is a separatist. This charge has been repeated over and over again, but has never yet been clearly proved. If four walls, with a steeple and bells, was the church of England, Mr. W. might with some shadow of reason be said to have separated from it, because he seldom preaches in these places: but this is no fault of his, for he will gladly preach in any of them, when their respective ministers will let him. And he was never denied preaching in what is called a church, till he strongly insisted on that doctrine for which the martyrs of the reformation laid down their lives, and which is the very fundamental doctrine of the church of England, justification by faith. Any one who would read Mr. W.’s Appeals with a sincere and impartial spirit, would I believe be fully convinced, that this charge against him could not stand.—As to the hurt your being acquainted with Mr. W. might do to Mr. C. in his temporal interest, it depends entirely upon himself. If he preaches to his people smooth things, and prophesies deceits; if he joins with them in their innocent amusements, which lull souls asleep, and keeps them in an utter ignorance of their fall and their redemption, till they awake in a miserable eternity: go you where you will, not a dog will move its tongue against him, nor will the generosity of his parishioners be in the least abated towards him; and all they say of him will only be, poor man! what pity that such a good-natured good sort of a man should have such a sad wife. But do I think Mr. C. will act in this manner? No, certainly I do not. I verily believe, from what you yourself have said of him, that he intends to prove himself a true minister of Christ, that he will boldly and earnestly call sinners to repentance, and that his life and conversation will be wholly agreeable to his preaching. And if this is the case, though you were never to see Mr. W. again, Mr. C. would be called a Methodist, the greatest part of his parishioners would cry out against him, and in all probability their generosity towards him would greatly decrease. So that consider the affair in what light you will, your being acquainted with Mr. W. cannot materially hurt Mr. C. And as to the objection of this acquaintance casting a reproach on your husband’s ministry, ’tis quite needless; for it is not to be supposed, if Mr. C. be the man you can approve of for a husband, that you will leave his church when he himself preaches, to go after any other minister whatever. And whatever you may do at this time at proper opportunities, will I doubt not be so guided by Christian prudence, that he, as a good and pious man, cannot reasonably object to it. But at present you and Mr. C. know very little of each other, and he certainly had no right to propose such terms as these to you, till he had given you frequent opportunities of judging, whether his heart and sentiments were such as you could entirely approve of. For my part, by the little I can judge in this affair, I believe him to be a good and a sincere man, and I heartily wish him happy, and that with you, if it can be brought about without your doing any thing to wound your conscience. In the mean time, whether this affair is ever concluded upon or not, frequent conversing together in the spirit of Christianity, may be a blessing to both. And how is it possible for you to give a direct answer to a man, till you are in some measure acquainted with him, and can judge of his temper and dispositions? I was quite delighted with the softness and affection for you with which your pappa mentioned this affair to me last night. If you say any thing of my writing to you, give my respects to him and your mamma, with love to Miss B. and believe me

Your faithful,

****

To Mr. ****.

My dear ****,

JOIN with me in praising the free grace and mercy of God, which has so wonderfully displayed it self in your soul! I don’t know whether your letter most astonished or delighted me; but this I am sure of, that I don’t know how enough to express my thankfulness to God in your behalf. The means so weak too! Nothing but a book put into your hands, which thousands might have read without regarding it. No examples of vital religion, no one to urge or encourage you to seek redemption! But the Almighty can indeed work by the weakest means, and the poorest instruments; nothing is too hard for the Lord: and Oh may he perfect the work he has begun!—Oh gracious and ever-blessed Redeemer, continue thy mercy to this brother of my soul; convince him more and more of the dreadful state he is in by nature, and the absolute necessity of justification by faith alone! Oh justify him freely; grant him redemption through thy blood, the forgiveness of sins: Fill him with all peace and joy in believing, and give him to go on in thy strength, till he arrives at that fulness of faith here, and in the end to thy eternal glory hereafter, which thou hast purchased for those who love thee! Amen, Amen.

I rejoice in your desiring to receive the sacrament. The only preparation required of us is repentance, faith, and love—love to God and all mankind. I have wrote out a little catalogue of books which I make my constant study, and which I hope will be yours; always remembring, that the Bible is to be esteemed by us infinitely beyond any human compositions. Other books I shall occasionally recommend to you, as they benefit my own mind, or are proper for the state of yours.—As to forms of prayer in private, you have no occasion for them. Pray from your own heart. There is no need of elegance of expression, to make a prayer acceptable to God. The desire of the heart is its prayer; and that once sincerely turned to God, will certainly receive an answer of peace. When you first awake, strive to fix your mind immediately on God: let the first book you open be the New Testament. There read, not several chapters, but just so much as you find will be food sufficient for present meditation. If the first verse you read particularly affects you, don’t read further, but close the book, and let that verse have its full effect on your mind. When you fall on your knees before the Almighty, recollect the dangers and temptations you are most likely to fall into that day, and particularly pray to be kept by the grace of God in each of them. Earnestly pray for power over the sin which most easily besets you. But above all things, strive in your morning and evening prayers to gain the most lively sense of your own nothingness, nay to feel that you are even worse than nothing, that you are by your fallen nature sold under sin, and deserving nothing at the hand of God but eternal punishment. And when your mind is deeply impressed with this consideration, then look to the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world. There see the power by which your fallen nature may be restored: there see the blood by which you are cleansed from all sin: there see the full redemption purchased for you, and strain every faculty of your soul eagerly to lay hold on this redemption: and be assured that the eternal Spirit of God will assist you in these your prayers. The Spirit itself, says St. Paul, maketh intercession for us.—In the course of the ensuing day, and in all occurrences, strive to keep your heart in a state of prayer, always ready to be lifted up to God; and this, even in the hurry of business, may be done, and no one be sensible of it except yourself. And be sure, my dear, never to omit making use of any opportunity of doing good which falls in your way, either to the bodies or souls of your fellow creatures.—At night follow the same rule as in the morning; only examining, before you beg the protection of God for the night, every action of the past day: what good you have done, what left undone, what faults you have been guilty of, what mercies you have received, and accordingly address yourself to the father of mercy.

I have time to say no more at present. Continue to write to me, and fail not to pray for

Your ever-affectionate

****

December 22, 1753.

January 7, 1754.

I RETURN my dearest **** thanks for his last letter; the satisfaction which it and the conversation we had together on Saturday gave me, is inexpressible. Oh may you, by the assisting grace of God, continue in the happy way you are now in, and still press forward to higher degrees of faith and love. But, my dear, you must not think too highly of me; I am one of the most unworthy objects of the free mercy of God. I stand more, perhaps, in need of your prayers than you of mine; you must too pray for me, and we must both strive to strengthen each other. I should be glad to know whether you, last night, notwithstanding the disagreeable manner of the preacher, received any comfort and satisfaction from what he said: I own I did; his words (under all these disadvantages) raised and strengthened me in a remarkable manner. I wish it had been the same with you all; but your expectations were so highly raised by the name of ****, that an angel would hardly have satisfied them: and thus shall we be always disappointed, if we look more at man than God. The most famous preacher, let his eloquence, his manner, his doctrine, be ever so near perfection, can never make the soul taste the words of salvation, unless the Spirit of God accompanies and inforces his preaching. And the same blessed Spirit can make the words of the meanest, the most despicable preacher of the gospel, effectual to awaken, to convince, and to comfort. But in order to our reaping these benefits, we must hear with singleness of intention; not seeking to have our outward ears and eyes delighted, but desiring the sincere milk of the word, to nourish and strengthen our souls. Would it not be the highest madness to throw away the water of life, because it was brought to us in an earthen vessel? Solomon says, “To the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.” So to the soul which really hungers and thirsts after Christ, the sound of the gospel of peace, (let the voice which proclaims it be harsh or soft) will be sweet indeed. Oh may you and I, my dear ****, always find it so to us! May that blessed Redeemer in whom we have peace, be dearer to us than light, than life, than any thing we can form to our imagination either here or hereafter! In dangers, in difficulties, in temptations, may we still look to him as our defence, our deliverer, our strength. He is all in all throughout the oracles of God, both in the Old and New Testament: may he be all in all to our souls; may we walk by his light, conquer by his strength, and in the end be joyful partakers of that everlasting felicity which he has prepared for those that love him. This is the constant wish and prayer of,

Your affectionate

****

Saturday the 17th.

I RECEIVED my dearest ****’s long letter, and have more and more reason to be thankful to God on your account. Oh how my soul exults in your happiness, in your increase in faith, and love to Christ!—Your conversation with the captain delights me; no doubt but he rejoiced over you—there you see the true christian spirit. The advice he gave you is excellent: Oh may we be both enabled to follow it! Those who forsake all for Christ, will certainly find all in Christ.—As to ****, I would advise you to try first, to raise in him a desire to receive the sacrament, before you persuade him to receive it; and be earnest at the throne of grace on his behalf. All probable means are to be made use of, but it is the Spirit of God alone can convince of sin.—I have been lately a good deal affected with the death of a lady in this neighbourhood, who led what is called an innocent life. Mr. **** attended her, and all his endeavours to convince her were in vain: her answers were, “Though she had not made such a shew of religion as some others, yet she had done her duty.” This is the most fatal delusion of all; this blindness is the most dreadful state in which a soul can launch into eternity! Can you and I be ever enough thankful to that God who has opened our eyes, to see the things which make for our peace? Was our whole life to be one continued act of praise, it would be nothing in comparison to the blessings we have received; nay, even the eternity, which we shall spend in continual praise, is not enough fully to express all we owe to our redeeming God—Redemption, how much is comprehended in this word! And how sweet does it sound to a soul sensible of its wants! May that pathetic prayer my dear **** has made for me be heard; then shall I experience that fulness of redemption for which I long! Then shall I indeed be intirely dead to the world and sin, and live only to Christ. All this unspeakable happiness, I as sincerely wish to the brother of my soul as to myself;

And am his truly affectionate,

****

Sunday Afternoon, March 10, 1754.

My dear ****,

LAST night after you were gone, I read your letter, and thought of what you had told me with the greatest satisfaction. What reason have you to be thankful, that God should at so early a time of your life convince you of sin, and give you to know, that you have redemption through Christ! How might you have plunged into all the follies and vices of youth, and laid up a large stock for future and bitter repentance, had not the free and unbounded grace of God displayed its power in your soul! Oh continue earnestly to seek still more and more of the fulness of Christ. Think not because you have had a sense of the pardoning love of God, that you are to rest here: no, still seek for fresh evidences of his love to your soul; press forward with unwearied diligence towards the mark of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus; seek and strive to gain the abiding witness of the Spirit; strive for that perfect renewal of heart by which you may say, “’Tis no more I that live, but Christ liveth in me.”—You tell me you was assaulted, some days after you had this dear sense of the mercies of God in Christ Jesus, with doubts and fears. Whenever you are attacked in this manner again, argue thus with yourself:—“This peace and joy which I felt, this sense of forgiveness seemed to me to be the work of God upon my soul: but was it really so? Might not a warm imagination deceive me, or might not the great enemy of souls transform himself into an angel of light, in order to lull me into a fatal security? But have I not an infallible rule to judge by, whether this work was of God? What were the fruits it produced? Did I upon this grow more careless and remiss? Was my mind puffed up with spiritual pride? Did I allow myself liberties which before I was afraid to take?—Or did I, on the contrary, watch still more diligently against the most distant approaches of sin? Did I find increasing power over sins of the heart, as well as outward sin? Did I find in me a still deeper sense of my own nothingness and the all-sufficiency of my Redeemer, and a large increase of the love of God and all mankind? If these were the happy fruits of this evidence, I have no cause to doubt this work was certainly of God.”

In this manner, my dear, if you will examine yourself, begging the assistance of the blessed Spirit, to enable you to search every winding and turning of your heart, you can never be deceived, and will always be able by the shield of faith to repel all the fiery darts of the devil. I thank you for your affectionate prayer for me (may God return all those blessings double on your own head) and am,

Your ever-affectionate friend,

****

I DID not expect to see my dear **** on Saturday, for the weather was so extremely bad, that I thought you would make the best of your way to ****. I have read your letter with great pleasure, and hope you will continue thus diligently to examine the state of your own mind: and that on every examination you will find an increase of that “treasure which never faileth.”—I rejoice that you have been happy enough to suffer reproach for the sake of Christ, and more especially for the grace given you to suffer joyfully. You may depend upon it that there is the same real distinction between Christians and the world now, that there was when our blessed Master said, “Because ye are not of the world, therefore the world hateth you.” And how ought our hearts to exult with praise and thanksgiving, when we can say we are not of the world! What unspeakable happiness will it be for us to be found (when our Redeemer comes to judgment) among those who were not ashamed of him in this “adulterous and perverse generation!” Is any thing too much to suffer, when animated by the hopes of having these glorious words addressed to us, “Come ye blessed!”

I am now with my poor aunt ****, who is in great affliction for the loss of poor Mrs. C. See my dear ****, *how little all that is esteemed in this world avails, when God is pleased to lay his hand upon us! Here was youth, beauty, riches, friends; but how, as in a moment, was the possessor of all these cut off! And by a dreadful disease, brought to be the companion of loathsome worms! Alas, how is that sweet smile, which once sat upon her countenance, now changed to ghastliness! How are her fine features and delicate complexion now become even horrible to behold! Oh that some proud beauty would here stop, and consider what she herself must one day assuredly be! And Oh that this thought might strike me still with deeper seriousness, that she who was my friend and confidant, even from my earliest youth; she whom I loved with more than a sister’s tenderness; is now—alas, where is now her precious soul? Dearest Redeemer, thy grace is all-sufficient, and thy mercies infinite! Is it not now rejoicing with thee? Were not all those helps afforded her by thy boundless love, which, even to the last, her ill-judging friends denied her? O had I but seen her rejoicing in the love of God, and filled with the prospects of a blessed eternity, how would my soul have joyed in her departure! How would my heart have dilated itself with the glorious thought, that my friend was delivered from the gilded snares that surrounded her, and gone to sure and unbounded happiness! And even now I cannot doubt the mercies of my God; surely we shall meet again, and join in eternal praises to the great author of our salvation!

I am, with all affection, your faithful friend,

****

My dearest ****,

I AM obliged to you for your letter, though the first side of it frighted me extreamly. I have been so accustomed to see you strong in faith, and rejoicing in God, that the very mention of weak faith alarmed me. But thanks be to God, who has not suffered you to be tempted above what you were able to bear, but has with the temptation also made a way for you to escape: and I hope this trial will be a means of making you still more watchful. You have need to watch and pray always, and more especially at those times, when your enemies seem to be at peace with you. When we are blessed with the light of God’s countenance, and have power over the sin which most easily besets us, we are very apt to be off our guard; and by being secure, we lay ourselves open to danger from that grand tempter, who is always watching over us for evil. And if we take not care to keep the loving eye of our mind constantly fixed on that God who is always watching over us for good, we must fall. Here all our strength lies: but God will not give us this strength, unless we carefully and continually seek it: therefore, now the free grace of God has again raised you up, be doubly careful in every thought, word, and action, and be assured that your merciful Redeemer will be ever ready to hear you when you call upon him. That his love may daily abound in your heart more and more, is the sincere prayer of,

Your affectionate,

****

July 12, 1754.

Monday, August 5, 1754.

My dear ****,

YOU are indeed a great stranger; sure you might contrive to call, though it were but for half an hour.—I am glad you heard Mr. ****; for to hear him and to profit, to a sincere soul is the same thing. I thank God too, that you are in so happy a state of mind, and your soul so charmingly alive to God; that you seem so much in love with holiness, and so eagerly pressing after it in all its branches: depend upon it, for every degree of holiness you gain here, you will also gain a new degree of happiness both here and hereafter. The nearer the soul is to the image of Christ, the more it will love him, and the more it will be loved by him, and by the Father through him: and this love is the highest felicity both of saints and angels. Imperfect (in degree) as it is here below, the soul that tastes it, would not change it for all that earth or heaven could give. And what then must it be above in the kingdom of eternal glory! Where the soul, delivered from this earthly clog, will have no hindrances or obstructions to the pure love of God, but will be wholly swallowed up in it.

Your **** gave me an account of your yesterday’s conversation: I congratulate you that you can so boldly and judiciously too, speak for the truth. I pray God to increase you in every good word and work, and am,

Your ever-affectionate Friend,

****

My dear ****,

I RETURN you many thanks for your letter. Just before I received it I was thinking of you, and to tell you the truth, with some fear, (occasioned by your long absence) either that you were grown cold to me, or, what was infinitely worse, were grown cold to the ways of God. But your letter dispelled all my fears, and I rejoice and give thanks to our heavenly Father for his great and manifold mercies to your soul!—I wish I could have seen you often in your last illness, but that you know was impossible: however, the small time I was with you gave me the utmost satisfaction, and I cannot be enough sensible of the goodness of my God, that I (weak and unworthy as I am) should be made an instrument of such increase of comfort to you. Had you then died, you would doubtless now be singing praises to God and the Lamb; but as you are suffered to continue longer upon earth, it is to this end, that you should approve yourself a faithful servant to God, in the midst of this crooked and perverse generation, that you should shine as a light in the world, and by spending yourself in the service of God here, increase your capacity of happiness hereafter. God is merciful to you in a peculiar manner. To be kept as you are, when so much engaged in business, and with so few opportunities of attending the means of grace, calls for the utmost gratitude; therefore let no occasion pass of shewing your love to that Redeemer, who has thus saved you from sin and the love of the world. All you can do, is by far too small a return for such unbounded goodness. Your present state of mind is a glorious and happy one indeed; but suffer not yourself to be off your watch for one moment, for Satan is always watching to hurt a soul that is thus happily escaped from his snare. But your certain help lies in Christ; keep therefore the eye of the mind fixed upon him, and you will still go on conquering, and to conquer.

I am, your ever-affectionate friend,

****

Sunday, December 8, 1754.

My dear ****,

I AM delighted with the rules you have laid down for your conduct: you must constantly look up to God for grace and strength faithfully to practise them. I rejoice in your love to your Redeemer; and be assured, the longer you live, the more you will be convinced, that this is your only sure refuge and lasting happiness. *In regard to your going so often to ****, take the following advice; shun, as you would poison, every thing that you find a means of making you less alive to God. Life is short. We have a great work to do, and God only knows how few of those hours, which are ever on the wing, may be given us to do it in. Therefore lose not a moment! Remember a Christian cannot stand still; he must go either forwards or backwards; and if you have not made some advances toward heaven since the clock struck last, you have gone back towards the contrary road. Keep this constantly in your mind, particularly in your visits.—May the peace and love of God be ever with you, and fail not to remember at the throne ♦of grace,

Your ever-affectionate friend,

****

November 27, 1755.

To Miss ****.

Sunday Morning.

My dear Friend,

I HAVE just time enough to wish that your soul may this day prosper, and that God may be found by you in all his ordinances. Oh that his love may be more and more shed abroad in your heart! And this it certainly will be, if you walk closely with him, and suffer not your imagination to lead you from your only true happiness. Oh strive continually after a constant recollection, and communion with God.—I know the unprofitable manner in which you will be employed this afternoon; but this need not hinder your heart from being with your Saviour; he will support and comfort you.—Take care that you run not into making observations, either on the persons, manners, or dress of your visitors: four young ladies in a house together, are in the utmost danger from this sin: and depend upon it, it is as contrary to Christian love as lying or stealing. Adieu.

****

My dear friend,

I HAVE been thinking, since I saw you, of all the snares to which you are going to be exposed, and I sincerely pray that God may protect you in every danger, and hold up your goings in his paths. But in order to gain this gracious protection, you must take the greatest care that you do nothing to grieve his blessed Spirit, and cause him to depart from you. And this any sinful compliance will certainly do: therefore when you are desired to do any thing unbecoming a christian, fear not (young as you are) to bear your testimony for God against an evil world. But do it in the spirit of meekness; and if by this means you draw upon yourself the appellations of whimsical, obstinate, and ridiculous, look upon the reproach as matter of rejoicing, and as adding a greater lustre to the crown you will hereafter receive. There is one temptation, which at your age is peculiarly dangerous, and that is a desire of being thought handsome. You must be ever on your watch against this; for it will raise a thousand tempers in your soul, as contrary to the mind which was in Christ as darkness is to light. There is nothing which is a greater counter-poise to this desire, than bringing the mind to be contented, nay even to rejoice that another should outshine us. Let Miss F be the means by which you acquire a conquest over this first born of female pride: set yourself every day to take delight in her beauty; to wish for its embellishment, and to be most pleased when she appears to the greatest advantage.—If when you read this you colour, and cry, “Dear! what can she mean? this is vastly odd!”—depend upon it there is something in your heart which makes the advice I have given highly necessary; and fail not, as you prize your peace of mind and increase of grace, to put it in practice. We should enjoy much more of the light of God’s countenance, and of that peace which passeth all understanding, if we would attend to, and watch against, those occasions of falling, which from their commonness we are apt to call little.—A soul is often cast into heaviness for hours, by an unguarded word.—You will not, my love, be angry with me that I deal thus freely with you: I watch over your soul in tender love; and though sensible of my own unworthiness, either to advise or persuade; though sensible of my own great and manifold sins and imperfections, I cannot desist from guarding you against all that may hinder your being made perfect in the love of God. I am,

Your ever-affectionate,

****

November 30, 1754.

I THANK you, my love, for writing to me, and rejoice that you are happy: God never fails to hear those that call upon him, and is gracious above all that we can either ask or think. As to my illness, it is extremely troublesome, but I believe not dangerous: and I must continue to bear it for a good while longer, without attempting to remove it, because my apothecary himself knows not what to make of it: *however, I am just as I ought to be; I delight to do and to suffer the will of God, and his mercies are sweet to my soul. I am in that happy state of resignation, that I have not a wish, but for an increase of grace and holiness. Sunday my soul longed after the sacrament, and the tears came in my eyes, because I could not go to church. But are the flowing streams of redeeming love confined to place or time? I found indeed they were not; for my soul was at home sweetly replenished with every blessing I could have hoped for at the altar. How much are those to be pitied who know not the love of God! How much are those to be pitied who set their hearts on any thing in this infant-state of existence! How poor, how low, how trifling is every thing, that does not look towards eternity! I have such an experimental sense of the nothingness of all worldly things, that they seem no more to me than dancing puppets; and I am sometimes ready to affront my brother and Mr. ****, by smiling at the important air with which they talk of their business, as they call it.—I think there is very little probability that I shall be fit to come to the wedding. Pray God keep your sister’s heart in this time of danger and distraction, and bless you both with the blessings of his children.

****

January 7, 1755.

To the Rev. Mr. ****.

Reverend Sir,

YOUR character for candour and piety takes from me all fear that you should be offended at the address of a person unknown, even though this address is designed to point out something amiss in you; which it is absolutely necessary (for the good of your own soul, and for the eternal welfare of those who hear you) that you should amend.――You believe!—You feel the power, and live the life of faith!—Oh why will you not strive that others may be partakers of like happiness with you?—I know your general manner of preaching: I myself have heard you; and while my ear has been delighted with your affecting delivery, your elegant language, and well-turned periods, my heart has bled to think that such talents should be so miserably perverted: bled for you, and for those poor souls, whom this way of preaching lulls into a fatal security. Pardon my freedom of speech; pardon my boldness towards you; but you yourself will acknowledge, that where the foundation is unsound, the building must fall; and no true foundation can be laid except Jesus Christ. Your own experience must tell you, that a divine power can alone change the heart; that all outward regularity of behaviour, all rounds and forms of devotion, and all moral duties, without this change are, utterly unavailing, and only like beautifying the outside of a sepulchre, which within is full of dead mens bones and of all uncleanness. You are sensible too, that faith in a dying Redeemer is the only means given us by which this change of heart can be effected. To what purpose then is it to tell poor, lost, undone man, of the dignity of his rational nature, and the beauty of virtue?—Dear sir, for the sake of that God whom you love and adore, away with these shadows, and substitute in their place realities. How would it delight the heart of several of your friends (who greatly love and esteem you, and who wish well to the gospel of Christ) to see you, with all the force of eloquence, labouring to convince your hearers of the sin of their nature, their condemnation in the sight of God, and their utter incapacity to help themselves; and then proclaiming to them, “Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world!”

I am sensible of the difficulties you will have to encounter, in thus changing your manner of preaching: but though the battle be hard to fight, great will be the glory of the victory. ’Tis true, your enemies are strong and powerful; the devil, the world, all the wicked, and all the self righteous will be joined together against you: but look up with an eye of faith, and see how many more are for you. Think of the holy angels rejoicing over every sinner converted by your means; think that the Captain of your salvation, your God and Redeemer, will be ever near to help, to strengthen and comfort you! And consider what unutterable joy your soul will feel, when at that period of time which is the most delightful to the true Christian, you can with firm confidence cry out with St. Paul, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth is laid up for me a crown of righteousness.”

I am, (though your unknown and unworthy) Your truly affectionate friend.

To Mr. G****.

I AM much obliged to you for your letter to me; and if it will increase your joy to know that I love my Saviour more than health, or light, or life, be assured that I do; and that I should think myself the most ungrateful and vile of all creatures if I did not. It is my constant and earnest desire every day, nay every hour, to increase in the knowledge and love of God, and to be saved not only from the guilt, but also from the power of sin. I know that the grace of God through Christ is sufficient for me; I know that the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin; and I know (blessed be God for giving me that knowledge) that I have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of my sins. Think now, what a wretch I should be, if I did not love this Redeemer, and if I did not wish above all things to be conformed to his image?—And in consequence of my thus loving God because he first loved me, I love every creature which God has made, and every soul of man, without any regard had to sects, names, or parties. The Moravian church, though I am certain at this time it is over-run with dreadful errors, I love, pity, and pray for. Oh may the God of love and unbounded mercy, convince and restore it!—I thank you for the glorious advice you give me, of “living very near the cross:” there is life indeed! Life freely given, to every soul that seeks it. And that you and I may ever partake of this life, is the hearty wish of, your

****

To the Rev. Mr. ****.

November 30, 1755.

Dear Sir,

I AM much obliged to you for your apostolical letter, and for the truly christian joy you express for my baby’s happiness. That I have felt all that the greatest sensibility of temper is capable of feeling on such an occasion, is certain: but here has been my great comfort, that, in every thing which concerned the child, I have had neither will nor wish of my own. He was peculiarly dedicated to God, even before he was born: and since, he has been daily, nay almost hourly offered up; and that not in word only, but in truth: and as it has pleased God to accept him as a sacrifice, rather than as a servant, I have nothing to say, but “thy will be done!” If I could have seen you, or any of my Christian friends at this time, when all the finest springs of human nature were on the rack, it would have been a great satisfaction; but it pleased God to with-hold all creature comfort from me; and though his own arm sustained me, it was in a manner not sensibly perceived by my soul: *so that I had the great blessing of bearing something of the cross. And this I look upon to be a particular blessing to me, because I have been so wholly led by love, that before this, I knew but very little of what it was to suffer the will of God. In short, every dispensation of my heavenly Father towards me, is nothing but mercy and unbounded goodness. I see and I adore.—The Lord Jesus bless and preserve you in body, soul, and spirit. Fail not to pray for,

Your obliged and affectionate,

****

Monday, December 22, 1755.

Dear Sir,

I SEE with delight, that you are set up as a mark, for every one of the devil’s tools to shoot at: and he certainly wounds the deepest by those, who, while they are working for him, imagine they are doing God service, and acting with Christian prudence. How often is that wisdom which comes from beneath, taken for that which comes from above! And fear of man, secret desire of preferment, and being ashamed of the cross of Christ, dignified with the title of true discretion, and caution not to give offence!—’Tis hard, indeed, to be wounded in the house of your friends; nothing, perhaps, is more painful to nature; but if they have called the master of the house Beelzebub, how much more those of his houshold!—Those servants of Christ who are designed by him for eminent usefulness, must of necessity have the largest share of tribulation; for the highest place of honour under our king, is that of the sharpest sufferings. I should not wonder if the tongues and pens of all your brethren (except two or three) were employed against you; and I am so far from being sorry (on your account) for Mr. L.’s preaching against you, that I look upon it as a precious and blessed mark, and a seal to the truth of your ministry.—Happy parting, indeed, with the world! And happy parting with every comfort in it, if nearer union with God is the consequence! Oh cease not to pray for me, that all things may thus work together for my good!—This poor dream of life will soon be at an end; and then, if those who have only given a cup of cold water for the sake of Christ, shall not lose their reward, what an exceeding and eternal weight of glory attends those happy souls who constantly labour, and patiently suffer for him!

I am, your obliged and faithful Friend and Servant,

****

The End of the Thirteenth Volume.