him. His help I need not afk, I know that I

have it.

Fare ye well!

J. J.

LETTER XVII.

I HAVE had a great defire to write a few lines to my beloved friend ever fince I parted with him the laft time. I left Cricklewood in a moft comfortable frame, and with the moft bleffed views and expectations, and could not help mentioning to my companions what a happy family you were, and what a felect party you had affembled together under your roof; nor did those feelings fubfide for many days, nor have I quite loft them yet, and I believe that I fhall never forget this time. The last Sunday at Providence was a day ever to be remembered, as it was the cleareft and brightest of all my life; and the sweet favour of the things then heard has continued to this day; and at home, many obferved that I had gained by my journey to London: indeed I believe it was vifible enough, but am

now afraid that the clouds begin to gather after the rain Laft night, which was Monday night, I felt I began to drag on rather heavily, which has troubled me, as I dread lofing the fweet ray it really is more precious to me than my life, for life, and all the enjoyments of it, are nothing but a burden, when once his bleffed face is hid; and if this was to be the cafe, I fhould not care how foon I went into the grave. But tell me, my beloved friend, if I may hope to receive yet more of it. I am not filled, I long for abundance, yet I feel gratitude in my heart and praise to him for what he has done. I have been guilty of defpifing small things, and planning in my imagination a way for the almighty Saviour to work in. I know this is wrong, but perhaps I fhall be at it again. O that I could fly to him! I would lay hold of him and die at his feet, for I feel it is of no ufe to live without; neither do I wish it, if I had all this world in poffeffion. O that I could fpend my few days under the pulpit, at Providence Chapel! would to God this was the cafe! My foul is clofer and ftronger united to you than ever, but our age and infirmities forbid me to hope to fee you often in this world, if I am to fee you any more. But praised be the ever bleffed friend of perifhing finners for evermore, that in his all-wise Providence he should conduct me to you, as the inftrument he had defigned, I believe from eternity,

my

to guide my foul to himself, and to lead me ftep by step in the intricate path of life, that fo many blunder about, and at last entirely mifs! I am fully perfuaded now, that all that the ever-bleffed Redeemer hath appointed for me in this world I am to receive by your mouth, and in no other way; and it disheartens me a little when I confider that the diftance is fo far between me and that mean of communication. I have endeavoured to put down a few broken hints, that you might join with me to blefs our bountiful Lord for all his goodness, and at the fame time to entreat your help to get fuch things as I greatly need, and cannot feel myself satisfied without, things that are wanting in my faith. The first is, a measure of light to understand the word, and to be able to compare it with his work. The fecond is, power to exercise faith, and to hold faft that which he is pleafed to give, that I may not let it go fo foon. And the third is, a greater measure of love, that I may feel faith by it working out all fear and torment, fo that my calling and election of God may appear both clear and fure. Thefe are the chief things that I entreat my dearly beloved to unite with me to pray for, for my foul can never be full without them; and I have a ftrong perfuafion, that, if he should find this on his mind, I fhall obtain them.

My kindeft remembrance waits on that felect party that affembled for the afternoon fervice in

the study: my best wishes are for the chaplain and the auditory, and pray let them know that I am often present with them in fpirit, though absent in body, which is the cause they do not see me.

Yours for ever, and for ever,

THE POOR VICAR.

LETTER XVIII.

I AM inclined this morning to send my best friend a few lines; for I feel gratitude in my heart to God, and to you under him, for all benefits received. Thank the Lord, the flame is fomewhat abated. I think, as you observe, that I did not feel it fo vehemently for years before; I cried to God day and night whilst it continued, and in a most violent way did the infernal enemy blow the coals, but it pleafed God to hear my cry and ftop the rage of it, for I was afraid left it should break out fome way or other. Now I am tolerably quiet, except a tranfient vifit now and then, and feel hope, and fome confidence, supporting me; but how long I am to continue in this frame I cannot tell, or what is to come,

next I do not know. I had the fame ftroke from the text in Micah as you mention, where is the promise of fubduing our iniquities. However I was enabled, though ftrong as this appeared to me to be, to wait, and I had ftrong expectation that matters would take a turn, and that this was too violent always to continue fo. I had a good time from Micah twice-much enlarged, and comfortable. I thank my friend for his very judicious refolves; they are certainly according to scripture, and certain I am that they accord with truth, and they have fettled my mind. Indeed my head is much better fince your ftatement of my cafe; I think that it conduced to do it fome good, for it has made my mind more quiet. But my weakness is, that I am so ready to be alarmed, to fear at the fhaking of a leaf, which plainly proves to me, that all things are not right within, and, at times, I can fee clear enough what the things are that are out of joint. Conscience is not thoroughly purged, I am fure of it, for perfect love has not come to caft out the fear that giveth torment; the veffel is fo much marred that it will not hold the little that has, at times, been poured in; and I know that nothing can make it quite found but a powerful application of the atoning blood of the Lamb: this, with perfect love, is what my foul is daily looking for; but hope delayed maketh the heart fad.