I BLAME myself and ask your pardon, for not writ

ing sooner. My confinement occasioned me so many visits from kind friends, that it added little to my usual time of leisure. Your first letter, enclosing Mr. C** came safe; as did the second, but that was posterior to mine to Miss P****, and therefore I could not then acknowledge it. I now thank you for them both, and for that dated the 27th of April. As the news of your illness and your amendment came together, my sympathy was concern mixed with pleasure; and having as much that seemed to require immediate attention as I could well find time for, I believe the hope of seeing you soon in town, made me the more easy to let your letter lie by unanswered.

My arm, I believe, is nearly, if not quite well, excepting a stiffness in it, from being so long confined in one position. I have it now as much out of the sling as in it. I have been able to wear my coat for a week

past; the surgeon, however, thinks it prudent, though not necessary, to keep on my bandage for a few days longer. I believe the arm has advanced as happily, as speedily, and with as little pain, as possible.

My spirit has been peaceful; it is a small thing to say resigned, for I have seen it a dispensation full of mercy, and have not been permitted to feel a wish that it had been otherwise. Especially as, through the Lord's mercy, Mrs. N**** felt no abiding ill effect from the great terror she was at first seized with, and which I feared might have brought a return of all her nervous complaints. But he is very gracious to us, and she is remarkably well.

I think you must have suffered more than I have done of late; but our faithful and good Shepherd affords to us both, strength according to our day. He knows our frame, and will lay no more on us than he will enable us to bear; yea, I trust, no more than he will cause to work for our good: he delighteth in our prosperity; our comforts of every kind come free and undeserved. But when we are afflicted, it is because there is a need-be for it. He does it not willingly. Our trials are either salutary medicines, or honourable appointments, to put us in such circumstances as may best qualify us to show forth his praise. Usually he has both these ends in view; we always stand in need of correction; and when he enables us to suffer with patience, we are then happy witnesses to others of the truth of his promises, and the power of his grace in us. For nothing but the influence of God's good Spirit can keep us, at such times, either from despondence or impatience. If left to ourselves in trouble, we shall either sink down into a sullen grief, or toss and rebel like a wild bull in a net.

Let. 1.

To Mr. B****.

339

Our different posts are, as you observe, by the Lord's wise appointment; and therefore must be best for us respectively. Mine is full of trials and difficulties; indeed, I should soon make sad work of it without his continual help, and should have reason to tremble every moment, if he did not maintain in me a humble confidence, that he will help me to the end. He bids me, "Happy "Fear not ;" and at the same time he says, " is the man that feareth always." How to fear, and not to fear, at the same time, is, I believe, one branch of that secret of the Lord which none can understand but by the teaching of his Spirit. When I think of my heart, of the world, of the powers of darkness, what cause of continual fear, I am on an enemy's ground, and cannot move a step but some snare is spread for my feet. But when I think of the person, grace, power, care, and faithfulness of my Saviour, why may I not say, I will trust and not be afraid, for the Lord of hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our refuge. I wish to be delivered from anxious and unbelieving fear, which weakens the hands, and disquiets the heart. I wish to increase in a humble jealousy and distrust of myself, and of every thing about me; I am imperfect in both respects, but I hope my desire is to Him who has promised to do all things for me.

Your desire for the mortification of self, in every view and form, is, I hope, mine likewise. Yet I would regulate it by the word of God, so as not to expect more than is promised. I cannot properly expect a perfect exemption from conflict, because I believe it is the will of God I should have something to conflict with while I am here. To be sensible of the motions of sin in me, watchful against them, humbled for them, this I desire; and I believe the more I advance in grace, the more

feelingly I shall say, "Behold, I am vile." But desirable and precious as sanctification is, it is not, I trust it will never be, the ground of my hope. Nor were I as sinless as an angel in glory, could I have a better ground of hope than I have at present. For acceptance, I rely, (oh that I indeed did,) simply, wholly, and solely, upon the obedience unto death of my surety. Jesus is my righteousness, my life, and my salvation. I am still a sinner; but he who knew no sin was made sin for me, that I might be the righteousness of God in him. This right to eternal life by believing in the Son of God, is, in my view, equal in all who do so believe, and as perfect and sure when they first believe, as at the last moment of life; as perfect and sure in the thief on the cross, as in an apostle or martyr.An infant is as truly alive as a grown person, though all his members and faculties are in a state of weak

ness. Therefore with respect to my acceptance, I would put my graces as much out of the question as my actual sins. That word suited me at first, and will suit me to the end-" To him that worketh not, but "believeth on him who justified the ungodly."

This morning, (May-day,) I preached for Mr. R*** a sermon to young people; it reminded me a little of my annual new-year's sermon at ; but though I had some liberty, I feel a difference between speaking to one's own children, and those of another. They were my own proper charge, and the concern of their souls was laid upon me with a peculiar weight. I am, dear sir, &c.

LETTER II.

My dear Sir,

Dec. 3, 1780.

THE HE Lord is risen indeed. This is his day, when we are called to meet in his house, and, (we in this branch of his family,) to rejoice at his table... I meant to write yesterday, but could not. I trust it is not unsuitable to the design and privilege of this day, to give you a morning salutation in his name; and to say, Come magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together. If I am not mistaken, I have met you this morning already. Were you not at Gethsemane; have you not been at Golgotha? did I not see you at the tomb? This is our usual, circuit, yours and mine, on these mornings, indeed every morning; for what other places are worth visiting? what other objects are worth seeing? O this wonderful love! this blood of sovereign efficacy! the infallible antidote which kills sin, cures the sinner, gives sight to the blind, and life to the dead. How often have I known it turn sorrow into joy.

O thou Saviour and Sun of the soul, shine forth this morning, and cheer and gladden all our hearts! Shine upon me and mine, upon all whom I love, and on all who love thee! Shine powerfully on my dear friends at, and let us know that, though we are absent from each other, thou art equally near to us all.

I must to breakfast, then dress, and away to court. Oh for a sight of the King! and oh to hear him speak! for his voice is music, and his person is beauty.—