01.09. Progress in 1844-45

Progress in 1844-45

"THE whole life of a man," says a writer of the seventeenth century, "is a continued conversion to God, in which he is perpetually humbled under a sense of sin, and draws nearer and nearer to God, with more fervent faith and love; and daily walks closer and closer with the Lord, endeavouring at perfection." The above sentence might be taken as a true description of M ____ ’s life. The tossings to and fro which the good man refers to as his own experience, are largely exemplified in hers. There is a firm holding fast to the anchor which is fixed within the veil; and yet what strainings of the cable, almost at times to breaking! What driftings hither and thither, as for as the cable would allow!

Whilst not resting on what she felt, but on what her Substitute had felt for her, she yet cannot be satisfied without feeling towards Him all that she ought to feel; and the conflict between these two states of mind is often painful, nay, agonising. She knows that her peace is to be built, not on her love to Him, but on His to her; yet she longs to love with her whole heart; for she sees how worthy He is of all her love. Hence the flowings and ebbings, which the following letters so artlessly narrate. Every change, or shade of change within, she notes; and as she notes it, so does she carefully and accurately describe it to her friend. Perhaps there is too much of this; nor have we thought it needful to give such passages in full; remembering John Livingstone’s resolution—"Finding myself sorely deserted, I made a promise to God, not to tell it to any but to Himself, lest I should seem to complain, or foster misbelief in myself or others."

There was in her at all times are intense fixedness of eye upon the Cross. When some mist or cloud threw itself between her and that polestar, she still kept gazing on the spot from which her star had disappeared, persuaded that it would soon shine out again undimmed. It was just such a star as her darkness needed; and she knew that nothing could pluck it from the firmament. In it she found light, and guidance, and hope, and healing, and gladness. The letters which follow in this chapter are addressed to more than, one individual, as the initials both of person and place will sufficiently indicate. They are given in the order of date, without any notes or explanatory comments. They unfold the writer’s spiritual state and progress, which is the main object of their insertion. They are very vivid reflections of M____’s mind, exactly revealing her feelings and her doings, without colouring or exaggeration. Not one word is written for the sake of effect. When she spoke,it was always to tell, simply and truly, what she felt; and when she wrote, it was with the same truthfulness and simplicity.

There is great singleness of heart and purpose manifested in these letters. They contain no references to passing events; and even personal or domestic circumstances are only introduced, in their bearings upon that eternity towards which her eye so intently and so fervently turned. With what solemn steadfastness of purpose she pursued her heavenward path; with what zeal she laboured for her Lord; and with what willingness she bore His cross—the reader will discover in these letters, which mark her progress in the years 1844 and 1845.
"P____, February 14, 1844…MY OWN DEAR J____, Since I last wrote to you, the Lord has again laid me on a sick-bed, and I was very nearly being ’absent from the body,’ I trust to be ’present with the Lord;’ but you need not be alarmed about me, for I am now nearly well."

"This last illness of mine shews me how in one moment we may be taken away. O to be always ready for a dying hour!— to be ’found in Him!’ Then, come the summons when it may, we are ready. I often think how much need I must have of our Father’s loving rod, for I am so often laid low. Will you ask that this chastening may be for my profit, that I may be partaker of His holiness? But I must tell you how I got ill. About a fortnight ago I had such a severe ’fit of toothache that I was obliged to have a tooth taken out; I got it out on the Monday, and it stopped bleeding for two hours, but about three o’clock it began bleeding again, and from that time till nearly ten on Tuesday night it bled violently. Only think of me bleeding for thirty hours! The doctor could not stop it for some time, and I got so weak with loss of blood and want of food and sleep, that I nearly fainted, and poor R. had to go at ten o’clock at night with the doctor to E____, to bring another doctor, for the one here said, if it did not stop I might sink in a moment, and that I would not survive another night. I did not know there was any danger, or I should have been alarmed. E. did not tell me till next day, when I was out of danger. It makes me start when I think how nearly I was entering on the unseen, realities of eternity. O that the worthless life that God has spared may be spent in His service! Pray much, dear one, that this illness may be blest. I am very much afraid that I, in my folly and desperate wickedness, may let it pass unimproved. I have not had the presence of Jesus in this illness;—scarcely at all; indeed that has been my greatest trial. It has been a fortnight of great bodily weakness, and very great depression of soul, but still ’He doeth all things well,’ and in His own time the light will arise; but I wish the time were come now.I am trying to pray that this illness may be blessed to my dear M____, for I have several times had an opportunity of speaking to her about the necessity of being prepared to die, and of illness being sent to lead us to God; and I want you, my own friend, to ask that I may not let this precious season pass, but may seek her conversion in earnest. Perhaps this may be blessed to her more than to me; if Jesus is glorified, that is enough."

"We had a very precious sermon from Mr. Moody Stuart on the Communion Sabbath, about the ’sure foundation, the tried stone.’

Neither K. nor I had joy, but we both felt more, I think, than ever we did, that Jesus was a sure foundation, and that we could trust Him in spite of all our want of feeling…Mr. M. said in the morning that the Father was telling us all to look at Jesus, ’ Behold, I lay in Zion,’ &c. He said, Many of you may be looking at other objects, but this is the one object to which God directs you to look— Jesus! I thought it so sweet to be told that we might look at this glorious object, and that we were to look at nothing else all the day. Oh, that we should ever look away! I did not find Him at the table, and I thought my heart would break but at last I said, Glorify Thyself, though I should be in darkness, and I felt comforted. I am a dog, and unworthy of the children’s bread; but yet you remember that ’the dogs eat of the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.’ To get the lowest place in heaven is a wonderful place for one who deserves the lowest place in hell! Did ’the Beloved’ meet you at His own table? J. I long to hear all about it." " Thursday, 15th.—MY DEAR J____, I must finish this letter by degrees, for I am too late for this day’s post. I would rather speak to you than write, but still I am very thankful to be again able to address you in any way…Our dear minister has returned from the country, but has not been permitted to preach; however, he expects to be able once more to tell of Jesus next Sabbath ; but he seems learning to say, in the sweet but difficultlanguage of yesterday’s text, ’Not my will, but thine be done.’ I sometimes think God is preparing him for His service in heaven, rather than for work here, for his conversation is literally in heaven; he speaks more of that than of the wilderness…I was very glad you liked the notes of the sermons. I shall try and take some more on Sabbath. I never write anything but for you, for I think it better to feed on them at the time; but if God blesses anything I write or remember to my beloved one, I would write all the time. Oh! J____, won’t it be sweet when Jesus leads us by the green pastures and by the still waters? I remember, when you first spoke to me in Kelso, you said, M____, won’t it be blessed? I did not think so then, and would not listen to you; but I think I would now: whose is the praise? Is it yours? is it mine? No; to Jesus be all the glory and all the praise…I have been learning nothing lately but the evil that is in my heart; and I am beginning to see that though a painful, yet it is a very necessary and a very loving lesson; loving, because it makes Christ more precious. Last night the thought struck me all in a moment, and as if a voice had spoken it, how very precious Christ should be to His people; they get all from Him, and through Him; how they should love Him! And my heart rejoiced at the thought that He must be so very precious to us; and then for one moment I got a bight of this precious truth, the truth that He had done all,and my weary soul rested, and no words can tell the blessedness of the feeling that resting gave. O that we could always rest on this lovely One, and not be continually coming and going, seeking rest and finding none! And O that all the world knew this rest!"

"P____,Feb. 22, 1844…MY VERY DEAR FRIEND, I have been long in answering your last sweet letter, but since I received it, the chastening hand of my Father in heaven has again been laid upon me; yet it was all in love, and I feel I needed all He sent me, for I am very, very unlike any one of Jesus’ dear ’little ones,’ far less am I like Jesus himself. You must pray, dear friend, that every sight that God gives me of my utter unworthiness may make Jesus more and more precious to me. I have been thinking much lately of this verse, ’To them who believe, He is precious,’ and I long to be able to say, Jesus is precious to me. God has been giving me lately greater desires to know Jesus, and to feel His precious-ness, and to feel my entire need of Him, and my entire dependence upon Him, than I have ever had, and I cannot doubt but that He will satisfy the desires He has Himself given. I feel my utter ignorance of Jesus and His finished work so much; I seem to know less about Him than I did at first; but one thing greatly rejoices me, and for that let us praise Him, that He is shewing me and making me feel more than ever I did my need of Him. I sometimes find it so sweet, I cannot describe to you how sweet, to ask the Father to reveal the Son to me— to tell me about Jesus. I think thenHe really smiles upon me. I have very little joy, or even peace just now; but sometimes God gives me such a desire to learn about Jesus, that the very desire is very, very sweet. I should wish to speak about Jesus with you, but everything I say seems like hypocrisy; and yet all I can say of Himas being the lovely One is true, though I don’t feel it so. Let us have a pen-andink talk about our Beloved, in spite of Satan and a cold heart. Can you always say ’my Beloved’? I still tremble to do it; but we need not fear when we think how kind, how gentle, how tender He is. ’He can be touched with a feeling of our infirmities, for He was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.’ Oh! I am so very glad He is without sin; if He had even one taint, we could have no hope; but is He not ’the Lamb without blemish and without spot’? Is He not ’the Holy One of God’? Even the devils confessed that He was; and does not the Father— (His Father, and therefore ours)—say of Him, ’This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased;’ and could God be well pleased with anything that was not perfectly holy? It is difficult to realise it. We are so unholy, we cannot understand how any one can be perfectly faultless; but let us be exceeding glad that it is true, and also rejoice to know that when we shall see Him as He is, we shall be holy too; you, and my beloved J____, and I, poor sinful I, shall one day stand ’ without fault before the throne of God.’ Isn’t it wonderful? I shall be very glad when the journey is all over, for I cannot stand my earthliness any longer, it is so painful."

"E____, April 4, 1844…MY DEAR FRIEND, I am quite solitary now, as my darling R. has gone for a month to the country. I hope the Lord will be with her, and enable her to win souls where she is…We saw our dear Mr. ____ in Edinburgh, and had a nice chat with him, and a prayer with him. He spoke to J____, which I was very glad of. He gave us each a text on going away. Mine was such a sweet one, ’The night is far spent, the day is at hand.’ Oh! should that not make us redouble our diligence in the Lord’s work, that the time is so short? What have I done for Christ since He called me"!

Nothing! I was speaking to a poor old woman to day—one of God’s children—who is in great darkness, owing to her disease, and she said, ’Oh! if I only had strong faith;—but I must just creep in at His feet, and surely the precious blood which has washed thousands can wash me.’ I was helped to give her many sweet texts; but I was struck by seeing how plain it is that He alone can make His Word food;for, after all my texts, she still stuck to one, which, she said at the beginning, gave her comfort, and it was this: ’None is able to pluck them out of my hand.’ It is strange how loving Jesus appeals to me when I speak to others about Him; and yet I cannot feel that He is love to me. I had a very sweet time at prayer this morning while confessing sin; the love of Jesus in forgiving my vile, vile sins against light and against love, appeared so wonderful, that I could not stand it; my hard heart melted, and I would not give the sweetness of the tears I then shed for a world of this world’s joy. I could only say, ’Truly, Thy name is Wonderful.’ When I get a sight of Christ’s willingness to forgive and receive His backsliding child again, without one word of upbraiding, it almost breaks my heart. Oh! how this tender, forgiving love should make us hate sin! but yet I don’t hate it; no, I have often loved it. I am reading a very delightful book just now—Memoir of Mr. M’Cheyne. It is very beautifully written by Mr. A. Bonar. Oh, what a Christian he was! It is humbling to read it. I have finished the first volume, and have begun the second to-day. Have you seen it yet? "

"P____, April 20, 1844…Friday is the earliest day I can get, so on that day, ’if the Lord will,’ I shall have the joy of seeing you once more. Friday will soon come, and on Sabbath we shall together sit at Jesus’ feast of love. We shall do this in remembrance of a love which many waters cannot quench...I expect to be greatly quickened, and made more alive to unseen things. We must ask and expect a blessing, and let us ever remember that He is more willing to give than we to ask."

"Kelso, April 27, 1844…MY DARLING E____, When I arrived here, I saw J____ coming to meet me. We went together to Mrs. H____’s, and had a talk, and then prayer. On Saturday there was a meeting in the evening, and Mr. A. Bonar preached on ’He was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.’ He said that Jesus suffered and obeyed for us in infancy, in youth, and throughout His whole life ; so that we should take all our sins to Him, pleading that He has atoned for them all. He said that on the judgment-day the Father will turn to Jesus and say, ’Thou art all fair;’ and then that Jesus will turn to His people, His own Church, and say, ’And thouart all fair.’"

"I got more comfort from that sermon than I got all the Sabbath, for I was not happy then. Our Mr. Bonar said in his prayer, ’Let us forget that we are in the world; let us forget that there is a world altogether.’ O that we could!"

"Mr. A. B. preached on Monday night upon ’ having boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus.’ He said we were to enter into the holiest, and never to come out; that there is nothing said in the Bible about coming out; we are to abide there; we are to carry on our worldly business in the holiest of all. I wish we could banish every idol from our hearts, and be filled with the love of Jesus. How Jesus loves you and me! I am sure He does, so do not let us grieve Him by putting anything else into our hearts besides His blessed self. Let us say, ’What have we to do any more with idols?’ J____ and I have our meeting every day at five, and we always remember you. Pray for me, for remember that I cannot get on even here if the Spirit do not come to me. I have been twice to see old Miss D____ ; she is a more wonderful Christian than ever. She said to me, ’Satan has been telling me that the Bible is a fiction, and that Christ is a fiction; but I told him that he was a fiction only to hell;’ and then she said, ’Oh, Christ is a Jewel! I am always asking to have that Jewel.’ We spoke about getting near Christ in heaven, and she said, ’We shall each get a whole Christ, and a whole throne to ourselves.’ She said, too, that there is a war in heaven; the redeemed tell each other their history, and each says he is the greatest debtor; and then they always end with, ’Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty.’ She said that if we were oftener to tell one another what God has done for our souls, we, too, would end with, ’Holy holy, holy!’ She cannot read now, so she wants me to go often down and read to her. You must pray that it may be blest to both of us."

"Here is a verse I have this moment made for you:—

"Soon we shall be at rest,
The painful struggle o’er;
We’ll see Him whom our souls love best, And never gnere Him more."
"Now good-bye for a little.—Your own loving M____."

"Kelso, May 13, 1844…MY DARLING R____, I have just received your dear letter, and hasten to answer it. I praise our God for what He has done for you; I praise Him for making you more entirely satisfied with Jesus. There is no one like Him. His love is unchanging, and that we cannot say of the love of any other in heaven or on earth. I think God is evidently weaning you and me from things below, and though it may be painful just now, like the plucking out of a right eye, yet we shall one day together praise Him for all His dealings. We shall praise Him for every pang. Not one, we shall then see, could have been spared. Oh, I don’t know Jesus at all! Will you pray, dear R., that my visit here may lead me nearer Jesus; that it may lead me to make Him my all in all, my Beloved? O that I could lean my weary sinful heart on that bosom which never beats but with love unutterable to poor degraded sinners! He loves sinners; and you and I are sinners; let us put in our claim as such, and say, ’Jesus, my own Jesus, thou lovest sinners, thou lovest me;’ and do not let us doubt it. What a heart Jesus has! No human being would bear with us as He does. Earthly friends look coldly on us when we slight their love; but, after we have tried every earthly cistern, after we have ’played the harlot with many lovers,’ Jesus says, ’ Yet return unto me.’ It is wonderful! Surely the love of Christ passeth knowledge."

"J____ and I have had some sweet meetings together. At five yesterday it was peculiarly sweet. God seemed so near while J____ was praying, that after she was done, I could hardly speak; I felt afraid to disturb the sweet calm the presence of Jesus shed over us. On Sabbath evening Mr. Bonar preached on this text, ’Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.’ He said the reason that the earth was so miserable was, that there were so many wills; but that in heaven there was but one will, and that one God’s. O that my will were conformed to His in all things!"

"I have got a district here. R., dear, pray for me that I may be enabled to speak to the people in it, and that during the short time I am here I may win some souls. Oh, if I could win but one! Pray, pray for the Spirit, the life-giving Spirit, to water the seed sown by such a feeble hand!"

"Kelso, May27, 1844…MY DARLING R., I got your letter as usual, on my return from Mrs. H____’s meeting. O how I longed for you to be with us! ____ prayed, and I always enjoy it when she does, for she has such a sweet, confiding spirit. She prays like a child pleading with a tender and loving father; and the nearer she gets to Him, the more confiding she becomes. You see what a loving Being our God is, for the nearer we get to Him, and the more we know of Him, we are the less afraid. His perfect love, shed abroad in our hearts, casts out all our fear."

"I see more and more (and perhaps this is the blessed lesson I am to learn here) that it is our simply looking to Jesus as ungodly, empty sinners, that is to make us what these dear friends here are. Let us look at Him too, nothing doubting, and we shall grow as they do; there is nothing to hinder it. None of our outward trials need hinder it ; on the contrary, they are the means of growing in grace. They lead us more to Jesus; and everything that does that, whatever it be, is a blessing. Oh! pray that I may come back to you more emptied of self, and more filled with Jesus, in whom dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily."

"Kelso, May 1844…MY OWN DEAR R____, I was so glad to get your letter to-day. I do think God is weaning you and me from everything but Himself. Let God’s will be done; oh, let His blessed, loving will be ours! I think He sees that we do not find all our happiness in Himself, and He knows, as you say, that no other joy can fill us, and He therefore, in mercy and tender love, takes away from us our broken cisterns. Let us, as dear Mrs. H____ prayed this morning, be always drinking at the well of free grace; let us trust to the steadfast love of God ; let us get our souls filled with that love which many waters cannot quench, and we shall have no relish for earthly things."

"I do not feel happy in my soul just now. You must pray that the Spirit would come to me, and shew me Jesus; for oh, I am such a dry branch in the midst of so many living branches!"

"Kelso, June, 1844…MY DARLING E____, I intended to have written to you sooner, but I could not, for I took such a longing to go and speak to old Lizzy, that I could not do anything else. Oh! R., I never yearned over any soul as I do over hers. If you only saw her, old and frail, and blind both in body and in soul; weeping when I speak to her of Jesus, and struggling, as it were, to see,—it would melt a heart of stone."

"I have been about two hours with her to-day reading and praying, and urging her to come to Jesus. She says she has been very miserable and anxious since I came to her, and that she is now much happier, and has no fear. I wonder if she has really come to Jesus! I said to her, ’Do you feel happier now? ’ and she replied, ’Oh, my heart just burns within me!’ She says that Jesus is all love together. Surely she has seen Him! She asked me to-day to give her one of our hymnbooks, that she might read it, and think of me when I should be away; so I shall take her one tomorrow. I told her that I should probably go home in a week, and she said so sorrowfully, ’And will I never see you any more?’"

"I could not stand it, and we both wept together. How sweet it would be to meet her before the throne! Is it not worth my coming here, if I win a soul to Jesus? —here, where I first cared for Him myself! Last night, at the prayer-meeting, Mrs. ____ came and sat down beside me, and said, ’I am so glad to become acquainted with another lamb of the flock; it is some one more to pray for, and to love.’ Was it not kind of her? She went with me to some of my people, and spoke very sweetly to them, and prayed with them. I wish I had such compassion for souls as she has!"

"Kelso, June 6, 1844…MY DARLING E____, Your tidings about illness have made me sick at heart. My only comfort is this, ’ He doeth all things well.’ This is a heavy trial. May it lead us closer to our loving and holy Saviour; everything is a blessing that does that. I have sometimes such sorrow, that I wonder my heart does not break; yet I feel that it is well to be tried, for I am led more to Jesus then. Sorrow has often driven me to Him, when I might otherwise not have felt so much need of Him. I think I have learnt many a valuable lesson in this place. I cannot tell you all in a letter, but if spared to meet, I shall tell you much. Everything seems to make this Scripture ring in your ears and mine—’ Cease ye fromman.’ I don’t think we have either of us found our all in Jesus, and I don’t think He will let us alone till we do. He will prove to us that all else is an empty cistern; and it is a difficult lesson to learn, but a needful one. I was thanking Him this morning for every pang that has ever passed through these weary hearts of ours. Oh! R., it will soon be over, and then we shall be where Jesus is all in all, and where there shall be no more sorrow nor sighing nor sin. Mr. Bonar spoke last night from this verse— ’And to Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant.’ He said that the name by which Jesus is known in heaven is, ’The Lamb that was slain.’ In heaven His praises are sung as the Lamb that was slain. The Father looks upon Him well pleased as the Lamb that was slain; angels praise Him as the Lamb that was slain; and the redeemed praise Him as the Lamb that was slain for them.And then he spoke about the freeness of the gospel, ’the new covenant.’ The Father says—’Are you satisfied with what Christ has done? —then come! There is nothing for you to do but to draw near. Jesus has done all, and the Father is satisfied; are you? Is it not simple? I was thinking this morning of what Mr. Robertson once said at a communion, and it seemed so comforting:— ’Looking to yourself, how can you presume? Looking to Jesus, how can you doubt? You; should go to the table on Sabbath, my beloved, ’looking unto Jesus,’ and then you can have no doubt. I shall meet you there in spirit. I have been asking that His banner over you may be love. Would it not be sweet to spend our lives in the service of Jesus, and then to spend eternity in His blessed presence? I am going to see Mrs. ____; O that I may be able to speak a word to her soul! I shall not likely ever see her again. Ah! when I hear she is dead, how I shall wish I had spoken! Mr. Bonar called to-day, and he says he is hopeful about my old Lizzy. Is not that good? I have no more to tell you, so I shall stop.—I am ever your own dear M____."

"P ____, June 15, 1844…MY OWN DEAR J____, I arrived safe in P____ and once more sit down to write to you…I saw J____ in Edinburgh before I came down ; she is pretty well. O that she knew Jesus, the sympathising Jesus! She would be happy in the midst of all her trials. Pray, dear, that E. and I may be enabled to walk wisely, faithfully, and lovingly amongst them. O that I could only care for their souls! R. and I want to get more of the feeling of pilgrims than we have ever had; it would be blessed if we were not of the world, even as Christ was not of the world…We ought to thank our loving Father for permitting us to have so many sweet meetings as we had, for I am sure God has often met with us when we have been together. We must meet now in spirit, and oh, I trust Jesus will always be with us! I thought of you and dear Mrs. H____ to-day at eleven, and asked that you might be much blessed…I wish I could write you a letter full of Jesus; but oh! I have such a cold heart, and I know nothing of Him. I do long to know Him, to be intimately acquainted with Him! I long to be at home; this earth seems sometimes like hell. I cannot stand it. No one cares for God, or speaks of Him, or seeks to glorify Him. I wish Jesus was glorified. I shouldn’t care for myself, I think, if only He got the glory due to His holy and blessed name. I mustlive for Jesus, and I must live near Him, else this earth will indeed be a wilderness. R. and I had a very precious meeting last night. Jesus was very near; and oh! He was so loving, I felt as if I could not have any fear. His perfect love cast out all our fears."

"June 20, 1844…DEAR B____, I have often, often thought of you since I left, and fancied us together in our little room, where we so often met our holy Saviour, and had such sweet communion with Him and with one another. This is Thursday, and I think I see you all in the dearschool-room, you and dear, dear Mrs. H____, and my beloved; and, in short, I just wish I could join you. Last Thursday, at this hour, I was there too. You must ask for me that I may improve all the precious, privileges I then enjoyed. I do not feel eternal things so near here as I did in Kelso. I often felt in a heavenly atmosphere, and I almost felt, when I arrived here, as if I had come out of heaven; but I have Jesus wherever I go, and He is ’the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.’ Is it not blessed to think that He never changes? We often change, and when we do, we are apt to think that He changes too, but that can never be. He loves us with an unchanging love, with a love that can bear rejection. I am often with worldly people here, and it is so refreshing, after so much worldliness, to get away to the throne of grace, and tell Jesus that in Him alone is there any real joy or peace. What a place heaven will be, where there will be nothing but Jesus, where there will be no need of the ran to lighten, for the ’ Lamb is the light thereof,’ and where we shall for ever sing, ’Worthy is the Lamb!’ That is the new song which we shall sing in heaven; but we must learn it on earth. Do you remember how you used to say you wanted to sing it now?Dear friend, I hope we both find it sweet to say, even now, ’Worthy is the Lamb;’ not we are worthy, but He is worthy. Let us plead the worthiness of His own Son with the Father. Looking on us in Him,He sees no iniquity in us. He says, ’ Thou art all fair,’ and then we can call Him ’Abba, Father.’ When you go to see dear old Lizzy, ask her, from me, if she can say ’Abba, Father’ yet. I hope your visits will be blest both to her and you, for I find I often get good to my own soul when speaking to another about Jesus."

"P ____, June 23, 1844…MY OWN BELOVED J____, To-day E. and I have a very quiet house, as they are all from home but ourselves; and I am glad of the quiet opportunity of having a talk with my own sister in the Beloved. I only wish my heart were in as quiet a state, calmly resting on the bosom of my Lord ; but many a storm Satan and sin raise in this weary soul of mine; yet, beloved one, is it not sweet to think of that voice which, though so small and still, can hush to silence the wildest storm, saying, ’Peace, be still’? O that I only knew Jesus really and truly! It gave me much pleasure to hear about Mrs. B____. I have been thanking God on her behalf, and praying that the child may be His child. It was very kind of her to think of me at such a time…I thought my heart would break when I turned and gave you my last look. O to lie away, where partings will never be known, nor sorrow of any kind! I sometimes think there is really nothing else but sorrow here. There is one sorrow that we three used to share together in that dear room—that so few whom we loved cared about Jesus. I wish I could pray more and more believingly for them ; but I often get hopeless, when I see no change whatever. The world is much in their thoughts, too, at this time, owing to ____’s marriage ; everything is the world. They never ask, will Jesus be at it? Poor ____, we must remember her much at this time. I wish, dear, you would ask for K. and me, that we may not be carried away by the worldliness around us; for oh! I feel, at least, how soon spiritual things fade away, and worldly thoughts fill my heart. We took M____ with us to church on Sabbath, and we had a most beautiful sermon from Mr. Robertson in the afternoon on this text: ’Wherefore, He is able to save them to the uttermost,’ &c. It was all Jesus together; I just wondered why everybody did, not come to such a Saviour—so able, so loving, so tender. Surely such sermons will be blest. This is Tuesday. I had immense pleasure in remembering you all at the meeting this morning. You must tell me, when you write, how you get on at these precious meetings…But I am getting away from the Master to the servants, and that won’t do. Do you remember Mr A. Bonar saying ’Master,’ so often? He is a sweet Master; and I should like to sit with Mary at His feet, and learn of Him who is meek and lowly inheart.So you still have your text—’Many waters cannot quench love.’ It is a wonderful text indeed. am glad you find it so supporting. I wish the Spirit would write it on my heart also…And now, my own beloved one, may Jesus be with you, and shine into your soul at all times, and fill you with the love which many waters cannot quench."

"P____, July 23, 1844…MY OWN BELOVED J____, You must ask this, that Satan may not be permitted to make me give up praying, for I sometimes think he will. I am so tempted at these times, that I dread when the hour comes. How sinful to dread going to speak to Jesus;—to dread going to tell our merciful High Priest all my sorrows, when He says, ’Fear not, it is I;be not afraid.’ But I think that Satan does us good, for he often drives us into the fold when we would not go of ourselves…Oh! J____, my beloved one, there is nothing in this world like the presence and the favour of God—’our own God.’ ’In Thy presence is fulness of joy, and in Thy favour is life.’ I often think, if I were not so slothfill, I should have more of heaven on earth than I have. I have not self-denial enough. I want to be an ’ uncommon Christian;’ but then I forget that we can only be that by uncommon effort. Not that anything we do has any merit; but then we cannot get the blessing unless we use the means; and I am often unwilling to do that. I am too lazy; I should pray more, and read more searchingly, and deny myself in many ways,—by rising earlier, by avoiding useless conversation, worldly company, and many things which are hurtful to the soul. I think we might grow more. What a dishonour I am to Christ! His love must be free, or it would never reach me. How glad I am that you have got my district! it is so sweet to think my people will now have you visiting them. You will have my poor petitions, my beloved, that your labours may be blest; your district has always a claim upon me, and now it will have a double one, and you will be obliged to go to dear old Lizzy. Oh! I am so glad. You must win that soul, and I won’t be jealous if she is yours. May the Lord go with you always; may you always say, ’Come with me, my Beloved;’ and you know if you ask you will receive. You must always tell me how you get on. The old woman who lives above Lizzy was ill when I left; is she better?—and the sick girl, is she alive yet, poor thing?…E. and I went to hear Mr. B. on Monday evening. We met E____ and her sister there. Miss M____ tells me she is still seeking Jesus. Oh! J____, that you and I could tell each other such glad news! None here are seeking Him. I fear I am guilty of their blood, for I neither pray for them nor seek their conversion as I ought. O for the Spirit! What a difference it makes when the transforming Spirit of Jesus comes to a soul! I often wish, when I see the fine showers that make all nature look so fresh, and make everything grow, that the Spirit would come into my soul like ’showers that water the earth.’…E____ tells me that Mr. Hay has got a charge. I hope he will be blest, and made a blessing to those to whom he is going. He will be zealous and faithful, I am sure. As a minister, he is one of Christ’s own chosen ones, so that he must be blessed. I wish I could take your text, ’Be not faithless, but believing.’ What wonders we might do if we had but faith; we could say to every mountain, ’Be thou removed,’ and it would be done. I sometimes despair of ever being able to do anything; but with God nothing is impossible. What a blessing it is that we are helpless! That may sound strange, but only to those who do not know the blessedness of leaning all their weight upon, ’the mighty God.’ Jesus says, ’Ye can do nothing;’ therefore He must do all, and then He wall have all the glory; and I am sure that is a sweet thought."

"The last sentence in your dear letter was very sweet to me: ’He will never fail you.’ It’s like a rock to lean on. Oh! J____, I shall be glad when the fight is all over, and when we are all at rest; then we shall never have another unbelieving thought, nor a single thing that will vex us in any way, when we shall stand in the sea of glass, and feel for ever the calm of a pardoned breast!—there is nothing calm here…And now, once more, farewell, my beloved friend; may the strong arms of Jesus be ever underneath you, and hold you up at all times."

"August 6, 1844…MY DEAREST B____, ’Then were the disciples glad when they saw the Lord!’ That was all they needed to make them glad, and that is all we need, just to see Jesus. We often look into our own hearts to try to get materials to make us glad from them; but we can never succeed; it is the sight of the heart of Jesus that makes us full of joy." "We look into His heart, and see that it is full of love even to the chief of sinners, and when we believe that love, we cannot help being glad ; and if we always did this, we should always be glad; but, alas! we are always looking at ourselves, and then I am sure it is no wonder we get dark and sorrowful. In our own hearts we see nothing but sin and ingratitude to Jesus, notwithstanding all His love to us, and then we get discouraged, and think Jesus cannot still love us; but we forget He loves sinners; that is our claim upon Him, that we are sinners, and that He died for sinners, so that our sins should humble us, but never make us afraid to go to Jesus, and say to Him, ’Lord, thou lovest me.’ ’Truth, Lord, I am a sinner, but Thou lovest sinners.’ ’While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.’ From the beginning to the end of our journey, all our boast must be the free love of God, all our trust must be in that; and it is that alone which will ever give us a real heart-hatred of sin. How can we sin against free love— unmerited love! I think that just in proportion as we dwell in the free love of our ’Wonderful’ Saviour, we shall become holy. When we are doubting His love, we cannot desire to be holy; we cannot get on in anything. I remember, a long time ago, our dear minister saying that it was easy to doubt and sin, but that we could not believe and sin; and I feel it is true. Is it not strange that we will not believe in God’s free love! He does not want anything from us but just to trust Him, and then we shall get on; but we refuse to do it, at least we refuse to do it entirely, unreservedly, in the face of all our sins."

"P____, August 19, 1844…I hope you had a sweet day yesterday in God’s house; it is the sweetest place on this sorrowful earth when ’the Lord makes His presence felt;’ but it is dreary without that. Oh! think what a place heaven will be, where there is no need of a temple—where we shall have Jesus himself, and therefore shall need no ordinances to bring Him near; we shall not even need the sweetest of all ordinances, His own Supper, in order to remember Him; for how can we forget Him when our eyes shall never for one moment be off His blessed face? Ah! my eyes are often off Him now, and then I always get into sin. I am not getting on, dearest; but I won’t write about myself, for it would only make you sorrowful, and I like you to be glad...I told M____ what you said about slightillnesses. He is, indeed, a God of infinite love, and it is a very grievous thing to think how continually we doubt that loving heart. I remember a time when I thought I could never distrust Him; but there is a wonderful change now, for I feel as if I could not trustHim. Is this getting on?…It is very painful to feel dead in the midst of such proofs of love; but it is blessed to know that it is not our love, but the love of our Master, that is to serve us in the end, and to feed our souls. Even now, our feelings are really nothing such as we ought to have. How much we ought to feel!—but there is no merit in our feelings. Christ is all—we are complete in Him. I had no joy either; I felt scarcely anything till we were singing the hymn at the end, and then I felt it was sweet to praise Jesus, and thought how much sweeter it would be to praise Him at the table above. You will be there, too, my own beloved, and that is a sweet thought."

"September 3 , 1844…MY DEAREST B____, I have taken a great longing to know more about our dear Redeemer; for, though it is very strange, I seem to know less of Him now than I did at first. It is said, ’To them that believe, He is precious;’ but oh! dear friend, I do not find Him thus precious. I wish, when you write, you would tell me what makes Him most precious to you, because I often think that I just love Him because He is such a loving, kind, holy Being, not because of what He has done for me, and that often troubles me. Does it ever trouble you? But I daresay you won’t understand what I mean, for I seem to be like no one else. I do little, little for Jesus, and I seem to do less every day. O to be a living, fruit-hearing branch! I think if I were to die now, I should be ashamed to look at Jesus, after living such a useless life. Will you pray for me, dear friend, that I may get a double portion of the life-giving Spirit? How blessed it will be when we shall not have to complain any longer of a cold sinful heart, and when Christ’s blessed face will never more be hidden from our view! I am often weary of this earth, but I am more weary of myself than of anything else. Ask Lizzy, with my love, if she can say, ’One thing I know, that whereas I was blind, now I see.’"

"P____, September 17, 1844…I often long now to he away. Whenever I get the least glimpse of Jesus, everything else appears so poor, so vain; but I very seldom behold Him. I am generally is great heaviness; I don’t understand it. J____’s text has been very sweet to me. It is sweet to think that Jesus must give the power to obey every command He gives, so that when He says, ’Be strong,’ we may rest assured He will make us strong. There was another blessed word I got today. ’Wait, I say, on the Lord; be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart.’ It is very blessed when you can, in some measure, plead His own pledged word and say, ’Thou hast said it, and therefore thou wilt do it.’ Why do we find it so difficult to believe that God will do anything for us, when we know what He has already done? Oh, it is strange! He has given Jesus, and the greatest blessing we can now ask is as nothing in comparison. I feel as if He could not do such things for me, a poor sinner. If it were for my sake, I might despair, but you know it is not my vile name I plead with the Father; it is His, whose ’name is as ointment poured forth;’ it is the sweet name of our sinless Jesus that I bring. Why, then, do I doubt?

E. and I were in town last Sabbath, and heard Mr. Charles Brown all day; it was all Jesus together. I am very fond of him. I wish we could always go to hear him, for our own minister is so often prevented from preaching by illness. But Jesus knows what our souls really need, and ’He will provide;’ if our Heavenly Father knoweth that we have need of things for our perishing bodies, and has told us not to be careful, but trust it all to Him, surely we may apply this to spiritual things which He knows to be so much more needful. You must join us in praying, beloved one, that if we leave this place, we may be led where we shall hear one of His own people…Could we but see God’s loving design in all our trials, how we should praise Him! All His aim is the salvation of our precious souls, and His own glory therein; and should we not believe, though we cannot see as yet, that all is love, pure, unmixed, unmerited love? I am very much interested just now in ____. He is very ignorant about God and eternal things; he often says he cannot understand a thing; he seems not to know anything about God’s dealings with the soul, or about the way of salvation. I had some interesting conversation some days ago with him about the gospel (O that he knew it!); and when I, in my poor feeble way, tried to shew him what the gospel was, he said he did not understand me at all. How true it is, that the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God!…Write soon, and tell me if you are happy in the love of Jesus."

"P____, September 27, 1844…MY BELOVED FRIEND,—This is the third time I have addressed you since I got your letter…E. and I have just been calling on two of God’s dear children (O how I love them all!—there is nothing like a Christian). There are a Mr. and Mrs. ____, very pious people, which is not often the case amongst the rich. They have taken a house here for a year, on purpose to do good ; and he has a meeting every Sabbath evening. You must pray for a blessing on our intercourse, my own darling…We met another child of Jesus today—how old, do you think? Ninety! She is a dear old body. We are to go and see her often. I sometimes think there are more of the Lord’s hidden ones in this place than we think. Will you plead with us for a shower of the Spirit to give efficiency to this new means of grace? Without that he will labour in vain."

"P____, October 8, 1844…MY BELOVED J____, This morning I felt a little happier than usual, and felt the Word come to me with some sweetness, when E. came into the room, and said, ’To-day’s text is, They shall sing in the ways of the Lord;’ and it seemed the very text I should have chosen. Would it not be sweet if we could always sing, sing praise, as ’the beloved M’Cheyne’ says? He is singing now, and he will never cease, day nor night. Ah! he has no vile body of sin and death to damp his joy or to make him sing less sweetly: he sees Jesus, and he is like Him, and he needs no more to make his cup run over throughout eternity. "

"Do you ever feel this, that the bare thought of God makes a thrill of gladness to run through you? I often wonder if it is a right feeling to have, for it often damps my gladness when the thought comes across me,—but am I interested in Him? Do I feel grateful for what he has done? And I know I am not grateful as I should be at all; still I cannot help being happy when I think of Jesus, whatever becomes of me. Oh! won’t it be blessed to see Him glorified as He ought to be? served without sin by all His people? Won’t it be sweet to see every one bowing at the name of Jesus? One thing I know, I could not spend eternity away from Him. I would rather be absent from you for ever, dearly as I love you; but my heart is very deceitful, and I may be deceiving myself. How awful that would be! I am most afraid of my feelings, for they are naturally warm, and I may think that that is grace; but then it is not natural, alas! to love Jesus; and He alone, I think, can have taught me in any measure to do it."

" October 25, 1844…MY BELOVED FRIEND,—Your last letter made me very glad. I cannot bear when any of Christ’s dear people are not rejoicing in Him. It is our own sin when we are not. The sun is always shining brightly, though our sins may raise up a cloud that hides Him from our view. Is it not wondrous love in Jesus, to choose you and me when many better than we are left out? I often say, ’Why me, Lord? why me? I am getting on very slowly, if at all, in the divine life."

"How ashamed I should be if you saw my heart! and yet Jesus knows it all ; but if I be indeed washed in His blood, He sees no spot even in me. Oh, I sometimes have such a happy feeling coming up in my heart when I think of Jesus! This has been a sweet verse to me often: ’They looked to Him and were lightened;’ just as if whenever we felt sorrowful we thought of Jesus, and immediately were lightened. We have much to make us sorrowful here, but we shall never know sorrow in Immanuel’s land. shall be so glad to see you there. You will never come there, and tell me you are not so happy to-day! You will always be in His presence, and in that blessed presence is ’fulness of joy.’"

"P____, October 29, 1844…What a day we had on Sabbath! I can hardly write to you, I am so very, veryhappy. Will you praise Him for me, for He has indeed put ’a new song into my mouth.’ I feel as if this were a new world altogether: everything breathes love, unutterable, wondrous love. I think, if ever I tasted the joy that is unspeakable and full of glory, it was on that blessed day; and ever since, I cannot pray, I can only praise. And yet I cannot praise. Oh, help me! I seem to hear nothing but Jesus saying, ’I loved thee, and gave Myself for thee.’ The truth about our precious Saviour is so new, so fresh, and so inexpressibly sweet, I wonder the whole world does not believe. Jesus is indeed all; and the Father is satisfied in Him, and with all who come by Him. The Father seems to love me, because He loves His own well beloved Son."

"Don’t you remember how I was always saying that I did not know Jesus at all, and that I was sure I always went to the Father without Him? But now, how different! Jesus is all to me. Oh! J____, is it indeed true? I can say, ’who loved me, and gave Himself for me.’ Oh, praise Him, praise! What can I do for His glory? I can do nothing but say, ’Here am I, Lord; send me.’ It is so sweet to think of Jesus standing in my room and being my righteousness, my wisdom, and my strength! How I longed for you on Sabbath! What have I been doing for three years? I never felt as I do now. Surely it is not a delusion! Satan often makes me afraid; but Jesus is mine, and he cannot hurt me now."

"Will you pray much for me just now? I am almost afraid of the state I am in; and I am so afraid of going back, and I am afraid of being uplifted; and, oh, pray that I may walk worthy of such a Saviour! I wish very much that you would write to me very soon, and tell me what I should do. I seem in a kind of dream." "We heard Mr. A. B. on the Saturday, and liked him very much. It was the same text he had for one of his tableservices at Kelso—’If there be any consolation in Christ.’ He said there is nothing so certain as that there is consolation in Christ. Mr. Moody Stuart’s text was Isaiah 4:2, about Jesus being the Branch. It was what he said about that, that gave me such peace, and such sweet, sweet views of Jesus. He said, that the Father, as it were, tasted the fruit of the glorious branch, and that He said, ’It is enough, I am satisfied.’ Oh! darling, is there not peace in it? And does it not make Jesus precious? O that He were more precious to me! I need again, I am sure, to beg your pardon for such an egotistical letter; but I must tell you what the Lord has done for my soul. Goodnight, my beloved; may Jesus ever be near you, and say to you, ’Fear not, I have redeemed thee.’...I have such yearnings to be a real Christian; but it is difficult; the old man is very strong...How soon the time will come when we shall never again have to complain that we are cold and lifeless! The minister at our table spoke about this text— ’What! could ye not watch with me one hour?’ He said it is but one short hour, and then we shall be in Immanuel’s land. We have a great work to do, and oh, what a little time to do it in! ’Let us, therefore, not sleep as do others.’ I should like if I could really live for eternity. Eternity is everything. I wish, with you, I could get deeper views of sin; but just now I can see nothing but that Jesus is perfect, and that He is all in all; and yet it is a sight of Jesus that shews us our sins. I know little of anything; but Jesus is my wisdom. Do you know, He seems a new Jesus to me? and yet He is not new. O to be kept from dishonouring Him!…I have written such a long letter, that I have hardly left myself time to speak of our district. O that Lizzy would really come to Jesus! Tell her from me that God is satisfied with His beloved Son, and that He requires nothing from her but just that she bring Jesus in her arms, and plead His name, and she is sure to be accepted. Don’t think that I am so conceited as to pretend to tell you what to say to her; but I want to send her a message, for I do love her. How I should like to accompany you on your rounds once more! but I must follow you with my poor prayers. I am much interested in your meeting; remember the sweet promise—’Where two or three are gathered together, there am I in the midst.’ May you see much fruit, beloved one!—Ever your loving friend."

"P____, November 6, 1844…MY BELOVED J____, I feel how much grace I need at present; there is so much of the world going on amongst us, that it is very difficult to realise unseen things. I often find this line of a hymn coming into my mind— ’O for a closer walk with God!’ I am afraid of getting like those meant by the thorny ground hearers; so many earthly things come in to choke the Word. O for grace to be kept from falling! but ’He is able to keep us from falling;’ blessed be His holy name! I often wish I were safe in heaven; but that is sinful; He can keep me as safe in the wilderness as He can in heaven, if I only lean on Him; and then I ought to wish to bring sinners to Him. O that I could!—what can I do? I long to be a living disciple, but I much fear I am a fruitless one...I am not so happy as when I last wrote to you; but Jesus is still the same, and His work is as precious, and as sufficient in the Father’s eyes, as it ever was. We must not depend on anything in such poor changeable creatures as we are; but when we do get a sight of Jesus, it is terrible to lose Him again. How blessed it will be when we shall never for one moment have His face hidden from us!"

" November 22, 1844…MY BELOVED____, We have only a few letters to write now, dear friend, and then we shall meet, never more to be separated, in that blessed place where we shall not need to write, for we shall see one another face to face. Perhaps we may have that joy once more even here, but, oh! everything here is alloyed. Even at the communion table we are reminded that we are still confined to this body of sin and death. I was, as you supposed, very happy at the table, and my joy came from a very blessed view the Lord gave me that Jesus had done everything, and that the Father is now well pleased with all who come in the name of His dear Son. I cannot describe to you what I felt, but it seemed something I had never seen before; and oh! it was so sweet, and it made Jesus so very precious, and everything seemed to breathe love.It was a very wonderful time. I think many must have got a blessing that day. Jesus was evidently set forth crucified in the midst of us; and He was with us. ’The doors being shut. Jesus came in and said, Peace be unto you!’ You say truly, the peace is not ours,and, therefore, we cannot impart it to another. It is His peace. Does He not say, ’ My peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you’? O to be filled with this peace, ’which passeth understanding!’ What must heaven be, when a dropof it is so sweet, so filling! This is heaven—this one sentence—’ So shall we ever be with the Lord.’ Don’t you think so? I often wonder what sort of a place it will be; but Jesus will be there; I know He will, and that is enough—that makes it heaven. His presence would make hell heaven, I think, but He is not there, and therefore it is hell. Should we not long to see brands plucked out of the burning? Should we not seek and pray that sinners may be saved from hell, and brought to heaven, where Jesus is? How little I care for souls! That often makes me fear I am no child of Jesus, for if I had His Spirit (if I have not his Spirit, I am none of His), should I not, like Him, weep over sinners? Pray that I may be like Him in this, and pray that I may be made useful wherever I am. I have much to do, I do not need to go and seek work; but I am idle, and slothful, and selfish. O that it could be said of me, ’She hath done what she could!’ "

" What a sweet thought that is, that we are not our own! How happy we should be if we could always carry it about with us, and how holy, too, for we could not sin so often if we thought, I belong to a holy God, and my Father loves to see His child becoming daily more like His dear Son, my Elder Brother. K. was saying yesterday that it was curious to notice how like people got to one another, when they were much together. That shews us that if we were more with Jesus, we should grow more like Him. ’Beholding, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, we are changed into the same image.’ And then, think of this wonderful verse, and can you help bursting into a shout of joy? —’We know that when He shall appear, weshall be like Him, for we shall see Him as he is!’ No wonder that, when we are presented faultless before the presence of His glory, it is with exceeding joy! Oh! how we should yearn over a blind perishing world! Let us agree, dear friend, to pray particularly for missions at our Saturday meeting; and, oh! ask that I may be forgiven my awful neglect in this matter. E. sends this text: ’For yet a little while, and He that shall come will come, and will not tarry.’"

" P____, December 5, 1844…MY BELOVED J____, How differently do I feel now from what I did when I wrote to you! My joy is all away now; but Jesus is still the same, and He still says, ’Look unto me and be ye saved;’ ’I will in no wise cast out.’ Blessed words! they have given peace to many a weary soul."

"December 11, 1844…MY DEAREST FRIEND,—You ask me if the friendship of Jesus is not worth having, even if it terminated with this life. It is indeed; it is the only real enjoyment in this life to ’know Him,’ and the more we know of Him the more we desire to know; yet I think we should be sorry to part with Jesus at death—don’t you?—but, ah! if we are His, that will never be the cake; death, which separates us from all else, only unites us to Jesus, never to part again! I am often much cast down just now; joy never lasts with me; I often feel constrained to say, ’I have no might against this great multitude that is come upon me, neither know I what to do, but mine eyes are unto Thee.’ Do you remember what Jonah said?—’All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me.’ He was in great straits, yet he said, ’Yet will I look again towards Thy holy temple.’ To whom can youand I go but to Him? ’He is a very present help in every time of trouble.’ It is blessed when we can hope against hope, and, in spite of everything, cast ourselves on Him, and say, ’Thou hast said, him (any "him") that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.’ Oh! these words are a rock. They are an answer to Satan and to the world, and to the whole host of our enemies put together (and I believe these are not a few); they cannot answer these words, ’Him that cometh to Me’— the Me is such a sweet word—and then, ’In no wise.’ I am very fond, too, of that part where Jesus says to the poor trembling woman, ’Neither do I condemn thee; go, and sin no more.’ Oh! it is the frankness, the tender love of the pardon, that makes the command sweet, ’Go, and sin no more.’ We find, then, that ’His commandments are not grievous.’ I want to love Jesus more, but I cannot; will you ask Him to teach me to love Him? I am afraid often I am not one of His, but he says, ’Come, and I will in no wise cast out.’ Oh! when shall I be any better? Do you ever feel like Jeremiah, who, I think it is, says, ’Thy words were good, and I did eat them’? They are just like food sometimes, and they give you such a holy boldness in pleading. I sometimes feel just as if Jesus were smiling on me, when I bring His own words to Him in prayer, and say, ’Lord, Thou hast said this, do as Thou hast said.’ I wonder we are ever unhappy when we have always such a God to go to, and such exceeding great and precious promises to plead; but, oh! our desperate unbelief; it is this that spoils all. ’Lord, increase our faith’—should that not often be our prayer? R. and I are to be at a family meeting on Friday ; will you ask, dear, that we may be there for His glory? and to-morrow week we are to be at the marriage of a dear friend of ours—a child of Jesus. You must remember us all on that day also. Give my love to dear old Lizzy, and tell her Jesus says, ’Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.’ I love her soul much, but Jesus loves it far more. Let her choose Jesus this day, that she may serve Him."

" P____, January 25, 1845…It is curious that I really get more ignorant about spiritual things every day, instead of knowing more! But perhaps that is to humble me; perhaps God sees that even a little grace would make me proud. Alas! how I stand in my own light, and by my wickedness prevent even a loving God from filling me as fall as He longs to do! How sweet it would be to kneel together once more! But we must not quarrel with God’s providence; its designs are as loving as the designs of His grace are; all is right on His part, only we are blind. O for a simple childlike faith ;—to trust Him entirely, and to trust Him at all times! May He give us both this grace! There is a very nice family here, that I have known for some time, a man and his wife, and some little children; very moral, but not pious ; and I am very anxious to try to get up alittle meeting at their house once a week. I mean to read a chapter, and, if God enables me, try to say a few words about it sometimes, and begin and end with prayer. I shall only have one or two poor women besides the woman of the house. I have told the woman to have only one stranger the first day, in case my courage fail, but I may get more in time.

I wish I saw how really weak I am, for then I should be obliged to lean on God. Will you ask this for me? I don’t want you so much to ask that I may be able to speak, as that I may be humbled, and then there will be less danger of there being so much of myself in this thing; perhaps the best thing would be, that my mouth be shut, then I might plead with Him to speak. I know you won’t forget me. I intend to go on the Wednesdays at three in the afternoon. Remember also our classes on the Sabbaths at four ; for, now that it is getting lighter, we intend to take a class each...I sometimes feel such a longing desire to be made of any use in this world; but then, again, I am damped when I remember how very unworthy I am; I can scarcely believe God will use me. Is it not wonderful that God works by such beings as I? that He does not say, ’Stand back, I can do without you’! And so He could; He does not need worms to aid Him in His mighty plans, but still he condescends to use us; and I wish he would use me, and make me willing to work…How is Lizzy now? Is
she born again yet? Tell her from me Christ says, ’Ye must be born again.’—Farewell (I hate the word), and believe me your loving friend."

" P____, January 28, 1845…MY VERY DEAR FRIEND, I should not have answered your welcome and kind letter quite so soon, but that R. and I are very anxious that you should join with us in praying about a minister to this place, for they are, I think, just about settling; and, oh! we are so afraid lest man should have the choosing, and not God. Oh! will you pray for us, dear Mrs. H____ ? for it is a most important time this, so much depends on our getting a real man of God. And will you enlist all our praying friends on this behalf? ’Pray forus’—that is all I seem able to say. I feel it is in God’s hands. It could not be in better ; and I am sure He will hear the cry of His poor needy children in this place, and also the sorrows of Christless souls here, and send one whom He will own and bless. It is not so much on R.’s account and mine that we are so anxious, for we are but two, and there are so many here needy, like us; and there is much sorrow to us individually, connected with our getting a godly man here, because then we shall have to leave our dear, dear pastor,[28] who has fed us with the bread of life for two years now; and although we leave him to come to our church again, and to many advantages connected with having our church so near, still it must be painful to leave one we have liked so much. This is another proof that this is not ourrest—it shews we are in the wilderness still. O that I were like a pilgrim!…I have been ill again with my side, and had to put six leeches on ; it is not well yet, either. Pray that this pain may be sanctified. It troubles me most when I kneel, which makes it more a cross, as I always feel that I need all my strength then. We have been reading The Night of Weeping, by Mr. Bonar. I may have many instructors in Christ, but I have but one father, and he is my spiritual father. May his own God reward him.— Farewell, my very dear friend, and believe me ever yours affectionately in the love of the only lovely One, Jesus, God’s dear Son, and our dear Saviour."

" January 31, 1845…MY DEAREST ____, I daresay you will be thinking me very ungrateful for being so long in answering your two last letters, but I assure you it is not want of love, but want of time and want of spirituality that often prevents me writing when I would wish much to do it. I am not getting on in the life of God, I fear, and I am afraid of infecting you with my deadness. But oh! dear friend, it is my own sin if I do not get on; it is no want in Jesus. By the bye, I want to ask your prayers for one thing just now. R. and I are writing some more little hymns for a book, and I am very anxious that you should pray for us, that we may be enabled to write them, and that they may be blest to some souls; for, remember, God can bless the feeblest means; and be sure to tell no oneabout it. I would not have told you, but that I want your prayers; and, dear friend, remember our Sabbath classes also, and our tract giving; and when you write, tell me what you want us to ask for you particularly, and we will remember it at our Saturday meeting.

" Monday,3d February.—Do you feel this, that when you are for any time with worldly people, you lose sight of spiritual things almost entirely? I feel this very painfully, and I often say to E., who feels in the same way, How are we to live in the world, if one day with them puts us all back? And then I feel so guilty, as if Christ were angry with me; and when they speak about worldly things, and say, What is the harm of them? I begin to think there is not so much harm in them, and I cannot speak for Christ, or feel spiritually at all. I have been thinking a good deal tonight about poor old Lizzy. I am anxious about her, that she should come to Jesus, if she is not already His. Oh! tell her to delay no longer, but to come now, for ’all things are ready.’ Tell me about her when you write. How I should like to see her again! and sit beside her in her little room, reading the blessed Bible to her. I wonder if I shall ever do that!"

" P____, February 10, 1845…MY VERY DEAR MRS. H____, It is indeed a sweet kind of love, the love of Christians to one another. I hope I am a Christian, and I am sure of this, that I dearly love all God’s dear people. I am grieved to hear you have been suffering so much from your head. I wish I could bear the pain for you; but that would not do you any real good. We never get one pain too much to bear, for it is the hand of our Elder Brother—(what a thought, that He is really that!)—that applies every stroke, and He never does, and never will, afflict any of His children willingly. It is all for our profit, that we may be partakers of His holiness; and I am sure it is worth suffering anything, in order to attain to such a glorious end. And then, is it not written that it is a light affliction, and that it is but for amoment? And then follows the ’exceeding and eternal weight of glory.’ O that the end were indeed come! I am afraid, dear friend, that I am too impatient. It would be right if I longed to be with Jesus, but I fear it is more a feeling that then I shall be done with sorrow…The furnace He often puts us in is, I humbly trust, purging away our dross, and oh! not one particle of the pure gold, if there be indeed any, will be lost. Jesus is sitting watching the furnace; may He be with us in it! O that we may come forth as gold, prepared and fitted for the Master’s use! I am sometimes, indeed always, cast down by seeing in me no growing likeness to Him—no fruit of my trials; and they are pretty severe. Is it not strange? Surely I must be more than usually earthly. Jesus has more trouble with me (if I may use the expression) than any one of His children. How kind it is in Him to have anything to do with me at all! I think I may say— ’And when I’m to die, receive me, I’ll cry; For Jesus hath loved me, I cannot tell why.’

Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits.’ We were yesterday once more permitted to sit down at the Lord’s table, and remember His dying, yet never-dying love; and a wonderful day we had.

Jesus was evidently in the midst of us. It was very solemn and very sweet…How slow I am to learn that all my strength, all my righteousness, and all my holiness, in short, that everything I have, is in God! but I feel He is teaching me step by step. I am indeed a very babe,but He will, I know,He will teach me all I ought to know. And I just feel willing to be in His hands, and say, ’Lord, do Thou undertake for me, do Thou perfect Thy strength in my weakness, do Thou make me all Thou wouldst have me to be.’ I am not my own, I am His, and has He not a right to do as He will with His own? Yes, He has; and can we not trust Him? I am a poor helpless worm. Isn’t it a glorious life the Christian’s? Oh, what an aim his is!—God’s glory. What strength he has!—God’s strength. What a Saviour he has!—God’s dear Son. What servants he has!— angels. What a work is his!—winning sinners to God. What a home he is looking forward to!—God’s house. And what a portion he has!— God himself. And is all this yours and mine? Our song should indeed be loud and sweet even here. But oh, how loud, how sweet, will it be in heaven! ’Let the children of Zion be joyful in their King.’ Christians should sing so loud, that the world would hear them, and perhaps they might feel a longing to learn such a sweet song too. If we were always shewing forth the beauty of our God and King, they might be led to say, ’Whither is thy Beloved gone, that we may seek Him with thee?’ What do we more than others in shewing forth His praise!"

"February 17, 1845…MY DEAREST ____, I am quite well now. O that I could spend my strength in Christ’s service! I am an awful sinner, and I am often afraid I am too bad ever to get to heaven; but it is very wrong to think in that way, for Jesus says, ’I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.’ Yet it is very difficult, when you see your sins, to believe that Jesus still loves you. I know this is pride, abominable pride. The true humility is to consent to be saved just as a sinner. Dear friend, I feel very sorrowful to-night on account of my sins against such a loving Saviour. I just think I have no right to speak about Him at all. O that I could hear Him say, ’I have blotted out as a thick cloud thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy sins!’ Don’t you find that it is an evil and a bitterthing to sin against God? Whether do you see more of its evil or of its bitter nature? I am often troubled in confessing sin, by finding that I feel more the pain it gives myself than the dishonour done to God. Do you feel this? It is right to feel sin painful, and I wish I felt it more so, but we should think more of its dishonouring and grieving God. I do earnestly long to be a real living Christian, it is so sad to be only half alive. I think you and I should agree not to rest satisfied with a low state of grace. Let us pray for one another, and stir one another up in our letters. I fear I shall only do you harm, I am so utterly unlike one who has been made alive."

" MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—Jesus has been teaching me many lessons lately; it should make me very humble to think how many chastenings I need; but I deeply feel I do need them, I have never had a pain too much; no, ’He doth not afflict willingly;’ it is all for my profit, ’that I may be partaker of His holiness.’ O that I saw more of it in me! Any trial, however severe, is blessed if it leads you closer to Jesus, and shews you more of His heart, which is all love together; and, as you say, it is very sweet to have Him dealing with us in any way. I have been much drawn to prayer for my dear parents since I have been ill; perhaps God has laid me low for this reason among others, that being so much with them, and witnessing their tender care of me, I may be led to feel for their souls. Dear friend, will you ask that my poor prayers may be answered, and my weak efforts blest to these precious souls? "

"P____, February 28, 1845…"O the precious soul! what can you give in exchange for it? How trifling all our earthly concerns often seem to me! I sometimes wonder when I see grave and learned men taken up with what seems so childish in comparison with eternity. How strange, that God should choose the weak things of this world! It sometimes staggers me, and makes me unbelieving; but that is because I am so blind and foolish. I am often very unbelieving about them all, for none of them are beginning to care, as far as we can see; but still we must pray on, and never cease till our breath goes, and our praising days begin, never to end. O for a praying heart! I was thinking to-day how sweet it would be if all my members were employed in His service. I should like if my tongue were always employed in commending Him, my eyes to behold no face but His, my ears to hear no voice but His, my feet to go on no errands but His, my hands to be employed in no work but His, and my heart filled with Himself. O how contrary to this is my real state! May I be humbled on account of my shortcomings."

" March 3…I want to tell you what a sweet time I had this morning in praying for your family and mine, for I think we should encourage one another by telling when God seems to be saying, ’Pray without ceasing; ask, and ye shall receive.’ What a mighty weapon prayer is! No wonder, when it moves the arm that moves the world. I cannot tell you how sweet it was to bring them all to His dear feet, and to say, ’Lord, they are even now dead, but lay Thy hand upon them, and they shall live.’ Do not cease to wrestle, and ask that I may be taught, too, to pray, and we shall prevail. I know we shall. It is for His glory, and will He not glorify Himself? And then, why are they all alive now? Does not that very fact seem to have a voice, and to say to us, that our very hearts may leap for joy, ’ As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in their death, but rather that they should turn and live?’ He has not cut them down, because He is too anxious to save them. I don’t much mind though we are not the instruments. He will employ those who will bring most glory to Him; and is not that enough? It is sweet to roll ourselves on the Lord, and to say, ’I know that Thou wilt do all things well.’ I wish I could praise Him, but I haven’t a heart to do so. I am so cold, so selfish; I seem to take everything as my right. But He will teach me, He will humble me, and I am just glad to lay myself at His feet, and say, ’That which I know not, teach Thou me.’ I feel as if I had just begun to learn. I cannot say the A B C in the divine life yet. We have had no more battles since I last wrote; it is curious I never feel as if we were going on right when they are all kind. I am afraid lest we be trying to avoid the cross; but the best way is to seek humbly and prayerfully to do our duty as far as we see it to be God’s way, and to leave all consequences to Him. I wish I could ’cease from my own wisdom.’ I had a sweet dream last night. I thought I had gone to Kelso to spend the day, and we had such a sweet time together ; it was more like heaven than anything here; for there seemed to be no sin in anything we did, or that was going on around us. All seemed to breathe such a quiet sweet air: the only sorrowful thing was, that Mrs. H____ was very ill. I thought she was entirely confined to bed; yet she, too, seemed so sweet and happy. I often wonder if we ever can learn anything from dreams. It is sweet to think that heaven, with its quiet green pastures, and its still waters, and its ’Lamb as it had been slain,’ is no dream. No! It is the greatest reality there is. The love of Jesus is no dream. It is too often but as a dream to me. O for more faith! All my cry just now is for faith, strong faith, giving glory to God."

"Mr. ____ seems to me to be wrong in making so many Christians think they should not go to the Lord’s table. At the last communion, some of them did not go forward, even some of his elders. I get frightened when I think of my going, and so many of His people staying away; but still I just cling to this, that it is not us God looks at, but Jesus. He says of Him, ’This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.’ What should we do without Him to hide in? It is a sad world this; how few care for Jesus, and how different His own people are from what they ought to be! At least I know I am…It is a blessing it is no sin to be poor. Jesus was poor, He had not where to lay His head…Do you still take from eight till nine on the Saturday nights? for that is my hour with B____. You will get this as you go to the Tuesday meeting. It is curious, I often am happy on Tuesdays at prayer in the morning, and then I recollect that you are all meeting together at our Father’s throne ; and I think perhaps you have been remembering poor me, and it is a sweet thought. I have communion with you in that way. Farewell, my beloved friend. Here is a verse for you—’God is love.’ O that we could enter into it! God is love, and He is love to me; nothing but love, infinite, undeserved, unending love. His nature and His name is LOVE. What a God we have! What short returns do we make! Alas for me! I love but little in return."

"P____, March 26, 1845…MY BELOVED FRIEND,—Nothing for a long time has given me such delight, as hearing that we are perhaps soon to meet; that will indeed be a happy moment. I wish it were come. I have been twice laid up since I got your last letter, or I should have answered it sooner. I do wish these illnesses were improved by me. I had a sore throat which ended in one of my usual fainting fits. I have been thinking it must be for some end that I am so often tried, though my illnesses are slight, and I feel so anxious they should answer the very end for which they are sent. Oh! pray that they may. God seems to be shewing me my heart at present, and it makes me very miserable to see it, for I think He cannot look upon such a vile wretch as I, for I am really that. Don’t you sometimes feel ashamed and grieved, to be always going to God, and saying, ’Lord, I have sinned’! I felt that very much to-day. I am always grieving my kindest Friend, and He is always forgiving me, and I can scarcely stand it at times, it is so wonderful. Why does He love me? I cannot tell. I shall know, when I get to glory, all about it ; but in the meantime, I wish I could sin less. Oh! if I could be only one hour without sinning, how glad I should be! But this should make Jesus more precious. O that it may! I had a wonderful time at prayer in bed this morning. Jesus’ love seemed indeed to pass all knowledge. I thought He said to me, ’ Thou art all fair, my love.’ I cannot describe the sweetness of the words, ’my love.’ Don’t you feel that you would be ashamed to speak of God’s loving you, if it were not in His Son? All! that’s the glory of it all! But why do I speak of it? What do I know? I sometimes think I should give up speaking or writing about it at all, I am so mean, so vile. O for a clean heart!"

"P____, March 1845…I long ardently to be away, to know something of that love which passeth knowledge, for here I do indeed see through a glass darkly, but thenit will be face to face. What a thought! I think that will be ’the exceeding weight of glory’ spoken of, seeing Him who is ’ altogether lovely.’ O to live a more heavenly life on earth! I often fear I am on the broad road yet, I am so unlike one who is but a stranger and pilgrim here. Is it not strange I don’t get more assurance? My dear friend, I fear you will think me too egotistical, but the reason is, that when I quit my vile self, which I am always so glad to do, and speak of Jesus and all the glorious things of another and a better world, something within me seems to check me and say, ’You are a hypocrite; you have neither part nor lot in this matter;’ and I fear it is too true. But I won’t vex you with my sinful doubts, only, when you write, ask that God would give you a word in season to a weary soul…I should like to have a talk with ____ again about our Elder Brother. What a thought, that Jesus wears, and will for ever wear, our nature! There is none like Jesus! What a precious privilege, to be allowed at any time, and at all times, to pour out our hearts before Him! It is often a relief to me just to kneel down and say, ’Lord, I thank Thee that Thou art;’ O that I could add, that Thou art mine! Should I never get any more from Him than I have already got, I have matter for praise through all eternity. I deserve nothing, and if I do get to heaven at last, I think I shall be the greatest wonder of mercy there; I shall have the lowest place; I think I should be ashamed to see myself in any other. There is one man I am very anxious about here, will you remember him? I spoke to him the other day about his soul, and he seems anxious, but he has strange views, and won’t go to any church; however, I have got him persuaded to go next Sabbath. Poor man, a woman next door tells me he is so miserable sometimes, that he often comes to her house, and, without saying a word, seizes hold of her Bible, and reads a verse, then stands thinking over it, then goes away again. He said to me with a kind of despairing feeling, that he thought of joining the Unitarians, who deny that our blessed Jesus is God. He asked me to go to see him again to-day. O that Jesus would speak by me!"

" April 1…MY BELOVED J____, I have not been well enough to finish this till now, but I am quitewell now. O that all my pain may be sanctified! I despair of ever getting any better. I wish I could see myself completein Jesus. I am ashamed when I think of what I am, so proud, so vain, so foolish, and selfwilled. All I want is, that Jesus should be glorified by me, and then it matters little what man thinks of me; but my fear is that I dishonour Him. ""Sometimes eternal things seem so real, so important, that I gaze with wonder to see so many never thinking of them all. I wonder they do not feel as I do, and I wonder I feel so little. It is a strange life this, but it is a glorious one, and the end of it is glory. ’His rest shall be glory’ (Isaiah 11:10, margin). "

"I have sweet news to tell you about our congregation at M____. E. and I have been feeling for some time a great desire for a revival amongst us, and your letter about Jedburgh made us doubly anxious, and we thought what a delightful thing it would be if we could get all the praying members to fix an hour for us all to plead for it. We spoke to a dear Christian, who joined in our plan with all her heart; and she introduced us to two more Christians in the congregation, who have agreed too, and she is to speak to all the other female members, so that we shall soon, I trust, be praying at the same hour for precious Jesus to come into the hearts of His enemies amongst us, and win them to Himself, and draw His own closer. One is Mrs. D____, and she seems just like the dear one of the same name in Kelso. She said she had been long wishing it, and was so struck when Mrs. W. spoke to her about it…Besides our separate meeting, we are to have a monthly meeting at Mrs. D____’s house at three o’clock the first Friday of every month; so you will remember us on Friday, our first meeting: eight of us have also fixed an hour for prayer, at six in the morning every Monday and Friday. We had our first, last Monday, and it was very sweet to have such a quiet morning hour. Our dear minister is very wonderfully quickened just now, so that we all feel there is the greater call for us to pray for a blessing, when God is so anxious to bless, as He shews He is, by stirring His servant to such earnestness in seeking to win souls. O that we saw many seeking Jesus! I trust K. and I shall get great good from our monthly meetings with such Christians. How much my poor soul needs it! I feel very humbled in the midst of them."

"P____ April 18, 1845…I am at this moment alone here. They are all in E____. I wish I could spend the day with God. I feel I should improve a quiet time like this; but oh! weary, weary sin; the ’old man’ is still very strong in me. I cannot tell you the longings I have to be done with this body of death, and to have a body like unto His glorious body. O for the time ’When I stand before the throne, Dress’d in beauty not my own.’" "We met a dear old Christian the other day, past ninety! and she was always singing— ’Oh! to grace how great a debtor, Daily I’m constrain’d to be!’
She has begun the chief note in the new song even here."

"Edinburgh, May 1845…MY DARLING E____, I have been constantly thinking of you since you went away, and wishing you were back; and oh! I dowish we were both at our Father’s house in heaven, for this is a dreary, sad world!"

"I have been reading some of Mr. Baker’s letters, and one remark he makes I liked very much. He says, ’You must go to Jesus for those things which we are very apt to think we must bring toHim, such as deep repentance, love to Him, delight in God,’ &c. It is a difficult thing to be a real Christian; and I think it is difficult, just because we are so proud, and have so little simplicity. We won’t learn of God; we often want to teach ourselves, or to learn of God but inour own way." "I am up to-day, and much better, though the pain is not yet away. It is sweet to know that I am in a Father’s hands, and that every pain will work together for my eternal good; but as yet, I see no effect of my many illnesses in making me more holy ; I am no better than I was. Oh, pray that Jesus would draw near, and draw me near to Him, and make me holy as He is holy, and because He is holy! It is sweet to me at times to think of Him as my Elder Brother; it brings Him so near to ourselves.

You and I shall never regret our choice in taking Jesus to be our Saviour, our all in all; and yet it is not we who chose Him. He says, ’Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you.’ Blessed be His holy name for choosing such a creature as I!— and I am so glad He has chosen you too! Let us give Him no rest till He gather us all into His fold."

"When you see my old ____, tell her to pray for me that Jesus would give me the victory over Satan, who has long tried me with a sore temptation. I could not explain it to any human being, but He knows it all. O for faith to trust Him! What do you think of old Lizzy? Tell her from me to beware of resting short of Christ. Perhaps God has sent you to speak the word to her that will be blest; Jesus walked till He was weary just to convert one soul."

"We are thinking of letting our house, and going to some country place, and I want that you and I should pray about it, for it is of importance what minister we all hear for two months. We are told, ’In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your path." I do love you, and am glad that we shall spend eternitytogether. May Jesus shine on you for ever!—Your own loving M____."

" P.S.—Mr. Robertson preached on Sabbath, and I must give you one sentence from his sermon, as it suits you and me so exactly. It was this: ’It would not be safe for you to be without sorrow, till you are without sin, God must have the whole heart, and it mustcome to this at last, that you cry,

None but Christ, none but Christ! and oh! if the loss of a creature draws you closer and closer to Jesus, can you then say, ’All these things are against me’!"

"P____, June 7, 1845…Oh! Jesus is truly ’Wonderful!’ I sometimes think, Well, I will trust Him, let Satan and my own evil heart say what they like. Oh, that we should for one moment distrust Him,—that we should not place unlimited confidence in Him! He is worthy, yes, He is worthy! He is a faithful God; we shall be more than satisfied one day that all His dealings with us, His poor, weak, guilty children, were right, and that they all spoke but one language, and that love. O for a praising heart!"

"P____, June 1845…MY DARLING R.,—I have been seeing little Helen, and she is very ill. She has no decided complaint, but just seems wasting away, as many of the poor children here do. I scarcely knew her again, she is so thin and altered; but oh, she is patient and sweet! I do hope she is one of Christ’s lambs. You must not forget to pray for her, and ask that I may have a message for her every time I go. She is very fond of the Testament, and even sleeps with it! She says she loves it because it speaks about Jesus."

" I must tell you a very striking and sweet answer to prayer which I had yesterday with regard to her. As I was returning home, after having seen her, I kept saying to myself, ’Oh! if I could only afford to pay a doctor for visiting her!’ for Mrs. P____ does not like to send for a doctor, when she is not able to pay him. Well, I asked God just at the moment to send me some money, if it were for His glory: and when I got home, mamma said to me, ’I gave R. some money when she went away; here is the same for you.’ Was it not very striking? Could we really learn to trust God, I believe we should get many prayers as wonderfully answered; and my prayer was so unbelieving too, for I really did not expect to get it so soon answered. "

"I had a sweet time this morning, in feeling my utter helplessness, and lying at Jesus’ feet, at His disposal, and telling Him that He knows that without Him I can do nothing; and that therefore He must help me. Oh! He seemed sweet, sweet! When I can get a glance at Christ, I could give up anything."

" I had a talk with ____ this morning. It began about our many trials, and in speaking to her about having Christ, and the certainty that He would never forsake me, but enable me to bear all trials in His strength, I got great comfort to my own soul. I said these things at first, rather than felt it; but as I went on telling her many sweet texts, they came with power to my soul, and I felt in a small degree that Jesus would really keep you and me, and enable us to glorify Him before them all. I went to see dear old M____ yesterday. She is very feeble now, and still dark in her soul; but she said one sweet thing—’Oh! if I only had strong faith! but I must just creep in at His feet, and surely the precious blood that has washed thousands can wash me!’ "

"Dear little Thomas has departed, I trust to be with Christ, which is far better. He died during the night on Tuesday. The last text I gave him was, ’The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.’ His mother said he often slept on that verse. He sleeps in Jesus now, and how sweet his slumbers are! "

"How are you getting on? I am grieved to hear that you do not feel our Beloved near; but He is near nevertheless. He says, ’Lo, I am with you alway? I went to Mr. Drummond’s lecture yesterday, and was greatly refreshed. In speaking of the trials of God’s children, he said, ’Jesus sits watching the furnace, longing for the time to bring them out. He does not afflict willingly, but He relieves willingly." He is trying your faith and mine, dearest, that it may come forth as gold. Mr. M’Cheyne, in one of his lovely letters, says, ’The way to be saved is to know the heart of God and of Christ; see John 17:3. If you only knew that heart, you would lay your weary head with John on His bosom. For one look at yourself, take ten looks at Christ. Look at Romans 15:13. You are looking for peace in striving, or peace in duties, or peace in reforming your mind; but ah! look at His Word, "The God of hope fill you with all peace and joy in believing." All your peace is to be found in believing God’s Word about His Son. If for a moment you forget your own case altogether, and meditate on the glorious way of salvation by Christ for US, does your bosom never glow with a ray of peace? Keep that peace; it is joy in believi ng. Look as straight at Christ as you sometimes do at the rising or setting sun. Look direct to Christ.’ Is not that fine? I do think that when we get to heaven (wonderful! but not more wonderful than God giving us Jesus), we shall be amazed at the simplicity of what it is to look to Jesus. Let us look, and never mind our own feelings at all. Don’t you feel lighter even in thinking about it? I do. I think I go wrong in looking for the effects believing must have, instead of looking and trusting. If I were to look and trust, I could not help growing. Remember, ’the everlasting arms’ are always underneath, so that, however low we may fall, they are still beneath us, and in His own time He will raise us up. "

"Good-bye. I wish you were back again, I long so for you. May Jesus be with us both, and say, ’Peace be unto you.’ A smile from Him is worth a world. Once more, good night.— Your own…2 Corinthians 5:7 M____."

" E____, July 8, 1845…Can you believe that our dear Mr. Hay has really left this sad world? It is sweet to think he is in glory; but it is a sad trial to those that are left. My heart bleeds for his poor ____. May the Lord be her husband!…Mrs. A____ has gone to Jesus; she died the same day as Mr. ____. Be sure, when you write, to tell me all about his death. How strange it sounds to say that word in connexion with him! Tell dear ____ I long to write to her, but that I am so poorly, and so utterly downcast in soul, that I have no heart to do it. I am afraid it is sinful to be so sad and cast down about anything; I should think more of what a dear minister once said, ’Whoever goes, Jesus stays; whoever dies, Jesus lives!’ The Lord liveth."

"P____, August 4, 1845…MY BELOVED J____, He is infinitely worthy to be trusted. I am ashamed when I think of all my perverseness and ingratitude! Surely, I should trust if any should; for, oh! he has been a kind Master to me. I often wonder how He can be so gracious and loving to me, when He knows how ungrateful I shall be to Him; but ’He is God and not man.’ It is a very blessed thought, that every trial is to make us more holy, and that all things shall work together for our good; but I do not think I am growing in holiness at all. I do not profit as I ought under the trials He sends me. It makes me very grieved often to think how very little I am the better for all His chastenings; it is terrible to come out of the furnace not purified. Will you pray for me, dearest, that not one trial may be unimproved by me?…We went to visit the grave of our beloved friend…I can scarcely believe he is really gone; I never felt a death so much. I feel as if the world had got a darker hue since he left it. Can you believe he is really away? ’He has seen Mr. M’Cheyne now,’ and he has seen Paul and John,and, above all, he has seen Jesus! We should not wish him back from such a sight as that. Everything says to us, ’This is not your rest.’ We must arise from the dust, and raise our whole souls to eternal realities. We must set our affections on things above, not on things on the earth. Don’t we profess to call Jesus our treasure? then let our hearts be where our treasure is, and that is in heaven. We need many a lesson before we become obedient children; but, blessed be His name, though we weary of His correction, He does not weary of correcting us; and well for us He does not. What should we do if He said of us, ’They are joined to their idols, let them alone’? Anything but that, would you not say? We shall thank Him for them all one day, and say, ’I know that in faithfulness thou hast afflicted me.’ Will you pray also for our Sabbath classes? I feel very much how unfit I am to be a teacher— unfit in every way—and I am so grieved when I see none of my scholars turning to Jesus… ____ would feel dear Mr. Hay’s death much. How strange it sounds— dead! Ah! well, ’it is the Lord, let Him do as seemeth Him good.’"

"August 12, 1845…MY DEAREST FRIEND, I have been thinking much lately of living to God’s glory. Do you remember the verse which says, ’This people have I formed for myself, they shall shew forth my praise’! It is not our praise we are to shew forth, but God’s; we are not to seek great things for ourselves, we are to seek God’s glory supremely; and that is what I fail in so much—I seek self terribly. I have been praying a great deal for a single eye; it is so very sinful to be seeking or wishing our own glory or happiness instead of God’s glory; our happiness should be in glorifying God. What a sweet heavenly life we should lead, if we thought only of God’s glory, and forgot our sinful selves! If God’s will were ours, our will would not be so often crossed. But this is hard to flesh and blood: blessed be God, it is not impossible, for ’with Him nothing is impossible,’ and He is able to subdue our stubborn wills to His. What holy peace we should enjoy if we would just lie at His feet, and say, ’Lord, do as seemeth good unto Thee!’ I don’t understand God’s way with me at present, but I know it is all right, and if I do not see it clearly now, I shall one day say, ’He hath done all things well.’ What about old Lizzy? Has she found Jesus yet? Tell me about her when you write, and dowrite soon. I am grieved, dear friend, you have so many troubles. ’Look unto Jesus,’ Cast them all upon Him, and He will sustain you. Think of this sweet verse—I think it is "almost my favourite of all in the Bible—’They looked to Him, and were lightened.’ We cannot look at Jesus and be heavy-hearted any more, at least while we are looking. As you say, if we realised more of His presence, we should not be so often troubled."

"P____, August 18, 1845…Pray that God may send you here if it be for His glory. I trust I should not wish even you here if it were not His will. Oh, it would be sweet to have no will but His. I have been thinking much lately, that it would not be an impossible thing even to glory in tribulation. The great thing is to see the hand and the heart of Jesus in any trial; and then it is not only borne with submission, but with gratitude. It is easy, and sweet, too, to trust Christ when all is as you like it; but there is a more solid sweetness in trusting in Him, and clinging to Him, and loving Him, when He is trying you with a sore trial; it is very sweet to thank Him for afflicting you, and saying, ’I know that in faithfulness thou hast afflicted me.’ No affliction, certainly, is joyous, but grievous; but I think when you see Christ’s hand in it, and feel that it is for your real good, you will not quarrel with it, but say, ’Good is the will of the Lord.’ It is good to be tried; it makes this world much more a wilderness, and this life more like a journey. We feel more that our real joys are above, where Jesus is. O for a pilgrim’s heart and a pilgrim’s life! But it is nearly midnight, so I must stop. My pain is not away yet, and I intend to try leeches again; but I hope still it may go away without. O for sanctified pain! It is sad, sad not to turn any better under the heavenly Physician; it is not His fault, but the fault of His unworthy patient, that prevents a speedy cure."

"P____, August25, 1845…MY BELOVED FRIEND,—This is but a wilderness world, after all. I am beginning to long to be at home. Oh! I am so weary of sin;—sin, always sin. O to be holy as Christ is holy! and that is perfectly holy. It is only when we see Him as He is that we shall be like Him."

"Salvation would be to me no salvation at all, if holiness were not included. Jesus does fulfil His precious promise that sin shall not have dominion over His people, but if it does not reign, it rages terribly in me. Mr. Robertson said yesterday, in his sermon, ’God’s answer to all our hard thoughts of Him is, I have given you my Son; and His answer to all our high thoughts is, Ye have crucified my Son.’ What delighted me more in the sermon was this, that when we come to Jesus, He made us holy as well as forgave us; and the very thought of being made holy seemed to me so sweet, that I could scarcely bear the joy it gave me. How kind and how lovely Jesus seemed as my Sanctifier! I think I said to Him from my heart, ’Yea, mine own God art thou!’ I was very happy all Saturday and during church on Sabbath, but I have been sinning very much since then, and Jesus is not so near, nor so sweet. Ah! that shews He is a holy Saviour, for He turns away from the least sin."

"I often notice how soon and how terribly I sin after a time of joy. How ungrateful that is!—how black sin is then! Ah! I see I need grace for joy as well as grace for sorrow. What a blessed thing it would be if we had no idols,if we had no aim, no desire but to glorify Jesus and to do His holy will! But self comes in, and many other idols—at least I find it so; I seek great things for myself. Do you find it difficult to be willing, really willing, to be always humbled and laid low, and to see that you are utterly worthless and despicable, and that it is only on account of another that God can have anything to do with you? I sometimes find it very sweet, but at other times my pride rises, and I am unwilling to be alwaysin the dust —always nothing. What a warfare it is! I am often ’faint,’ yet God, my ’wonderful’ God, keeps me still ’pursuing;’ and, oh! I trust, since He has begun the good work in me, He will not leave it off till it is finished—till I, even I, am ’faultless before the throne.’ O to be there! and to see you there, my most beloved, ’without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing,’ and join with you in the sweet, sweet song, ’Worthy,’ yes, ’worthy is the Lamb that was slain for US!’ I shall see you clothed in His beauty, and glorify God in you. It will be all Jesus there. No self, no sin, no idols, but Jesus will be all in all. ’Amen! Even so, come, Lord Jesus.’

I wish I could see you face to face, that I might speak of the Lord’s dealings with my poor soul, for they have been very wonderful lately. I don’t know when that will be, but I am quite satisfied that He will permit us to meet in His own time, and when it will be more for His glory; and it would not be a sweet meeting if any other hand than our Father’s brought us together. I have been going on frowardly in my own way lately, but God has most graciously shewn me my wickedness, and has brought me back in some degree to Himself, and made me more willing to say, ’ Not my will, but Thine be done.’ I had been thinking that such and such a thing would make me happy, and I sought it in spite of God. What a sinner I have been, and am! but He has now taken away the idol—He has made it bitter to me ; and now I see His way is the best, and the happiest too; and, dearest, will you pray for me, that I may not be allowed to take my own way any more in anything? Are not these wonderful words? —’Thou hast played the harlot with many lovers, yet return unto me, saith the Lord.’ God’s way is so much the best in everything, I am determined, in His strength, to trust Him for everything. He is too wise to err, and too good to be unkind. Let us trust Him when we cannot see plainly the love of His dealings with us, and we shall see it in His own time—if not here, yet yonder. Our path in life may be a solitary, and a painful, and a trying one in many ways—we may be despised and overlooked, but He will never forsake us, nor withhold onegood thing from us; and all these things will most assuredly be for the good of our souls. Then let us sing— ’The way may be rough, but it cannot be long, And then, O how pleasant the conqueror’s song!’

I speak in this way to you because I want you to praise Him for me, and to pray that I may have grace given me to trust Him to the end. O that I saw all we love seeking this gracious One! I am not hopeful about____ just now, which is strange, when I feel I can trust Him more about myself; but I see no signs of life yet. Perhaps God’s time has not come; we must continue to pray, and ’hope against hope.’ We are very anxious about dear ____ just now, but he seems to hate when we mention the subject. O that Jesus would reveal Himself to him, and he could not kelp running after Him!"

"P____, October 6, 1845…I am to be busy this week giving my tracts. Pray for a blessing on them, and that I may have an open door to speak to many souls. I intend to go and get a quickening from ____. I am glad to say that at present I have more desire to stay here and win souls to Jesus than to be away. Mr. Robertson spoke of that yesterday, and said that we should not desire perfect rest till we had served God all we could here. I am going to-morrow to see the old man at N____. Ask words for me, and the blessed Spirit to carry home the sweet message of mercy to that soul. How sweet the sound of a free salvation is when you feel that you are the chief of sinners!"

"P____ October 15, 1845…We had a nice day yesterday. I did not get much from man; but I had a sweet time at the table. At first it was mingled; a painful sense of sin—sin against love— and a sense of the love of Jesus, too; but in a little while I cannot tell you what a sweet; calm, happy feeling of peace came over my whole heart. I felt that Jesus had come near, and that He loved even me ; and I tried not to think of my wretched self, and gave myself up to the blessedness of being the Lord’s. I was almost afraid to breathe, lest it should all go away."

"P____, October 25, 1845…There is but one who can give even a drop of comfort at a time like this, and to His effectual sympathy and tender love I have been unceasingly commending you ; and I do feel persuaded He is very near you. O that he may say to your very heart—’ It is I, be not afraid!’ I pray that you may see love, divine, holy love, in this stroke ; and oh, may the ’exceeding great and precious promises’ be more precious to you now than ever!…Mr. A. Bonar said in his sermon—’The Father’s bosom was the shore to which Jesus always swam in all his temptations.’ He left that bosom to win for poor sinners the crown of glory; and, now that He has gone back, He tells us that we, too, may find a refuge there; for that in Him, His God is our God, and His Father our Father…We cannot but weep at such a time, and Jesus wishes us to weep. He wept himself at the grave of Mary and Martha’s brother, and He has the same heart still. Farewell, my beloved friend. I commend you to Him who can bind up the broken heart and heal all those wounds.—And, praying that you may grow much in the knowledge of Jesus, I am your very attached friend."

"P____, October 30, 1845…My beloved J____, night and day you are in my thoughts. I have, indeed, been in the furnace with you; but what good will that do you? None. But there is One with you who can and will comfort and bless you. One like unto the Son of Man is very near you…’He doth not afflict willingly;’ and ’in all your afflictions He is afflicted.’ He is our blessed Head, and He feels when any of His members are touched. ’He that toucheth you toucheth the apple of His eye.’…The other day I heard just as it were a voice in my heart, saying, ’Do not grieve, it is I who am smiting her, and it is for her eternal profit.’ cannot tell you how it comforted me. It was Jesus who had drawn near, and said, ’O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt? Thy friend is safe, for my hand holds the rod.’...In a few short years we shall be in Immanuel’s land. One tie less to earth is another tie to heaven. You will feel earth more a wilderness now than ever; and don’t you remember what Mr. M’Cheyne said? —’Christ is never so precious as when the world is one vast howling wilderness. ’I will allure her into the wilderness, and will speak comfortably to her, to herheart.’…I wish I could write something that would comfort you, my own friend, but I am but a broken cistern; but Jesus is a full fountain, and His fulness is for you. Here is one of the drops of that fountain— ’Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.’ Again— ’Give ye them no possession, I am their possession.’ Ah, the Christian should want nothing here, he has all in God. I am ashamed to send such a cold letter, with so little in it of our wonderful Immanuel; but you have Himself to go to, and He is always full, always ready and able to bless you."

" P____, November 12, 1845…I am glad you have such friends as ____ with you. Jesus himself, when in His agony, went to His dear disciples for comfort (oh! how like ’ the children’ he became!), but He found no comforters. Blessed Jesus! what He suffered that His people might spend an eternity without a single pain! I feel as if my cold earthly words would just annoy you. When you get near, will you remember my poor soul? not that I may be happy, but that I may glorify Jesus. This morning everything seemed swallowed up in the one thought of His glory. O that the world knew Him! My heart is pained just now with the thought that so few know Him—that so few see any beauty in Him, and that even His own people see so little...It was very sweet to me to hear our truly ’wonderful’ God is sustaining you; while He is making your cup of sorrow full, He is also making your cup of consolation to run over; if your afflictions abound, may your consolations much more abound. The tempest makes us run quickly and closely to the shepherd’s side, when fair weather might tempt us to wander.—Praying that the God of peace, and love, and hope, and consolation, and all grace may be with you, and manifest himself to you, I am," &c.

" P____, November 24, 1845…My heart rejoices in the midst of its sorrow when I hear how kind the Lord is to my dear friend, in supporting and comforting you while suffering under His hand. I try to give thanks to our God on your behalf. We are told to weep with those that weep, and to rejoice with those that rejoice: will you let me weep with you, my own friend, and rejoice with you too? It is painful to be so far separate ; but this is His will who doeth all things well, and we must not think any of His commands grievous…How soon we shall know all we now see so darkly! I often wish that time were come, for I do nothing but dishonour Jesus, and I am so often mourning without the sun; but still I think I should like to live even many years here yet, if I could win any to Jesus. Ah! I think He will need to cast me into many a furnace before my dross is purged away. O for a willing heart to all He calls me to bear! O for a childish, simple faith—to be Christlike! Truly ’in this tabernacle we groan, being burdened.’ How different we shall be when we walk with Jesus, and with each other, by the still waters and the green pastures! O that the well of water which is even now within us, if we are Christ’s, would spring up more and more, and cheer us on our way to Immanuel’s land,—that it would also flow out from us, giving life to many dead souls around us!...G. H. took R. and me to visit a poor dying girl, whom he found a rejoicing Christian, and who, he discovered, had been brought to Jesus by his own brother about a year ago. She said, in speaking of God’s mercies, ’Yes, and they all come to us streaming with the blood of Jesus.’ She takes great delight in speaking of Mr. Hay, and said, ’He will have a heavy crown, yes, he will have a heavy crown.’ Is it not sweet to go to a dark corner like that, and see such a bright light shining to the glory of Jesus, who hath called her ’out of darkness into His marvellous light!’…O that we could find many (and be followed by many) in glory who had been led by us to the foot of the cross!"

"P____, December 1, 1845…He does indeed bring good even out of our evil. I am so glad that everything will be for His glory; even our sins, in the end, are the means of making His blood more precious, and shewing how glorious He is in subduing them all, and thereby He gets glory… Ask for me, that I may so see myself that I may not be able any longer to dishonour Jesus, by trusting to anything in me at all. O that I could glorify Him, by trusting Him even in full view of a deceitful and desperately wicked heart! And oh! how worthy He is to be trusted! how tender, how wise, how loving, how wondrously long-suffering he is! I feel as if He were more amazingly loving in saving such a vile creature as I, than in saving any of His people. He alone knows what I am, and I do greatly wonder He does not abhor me. I trust I am really His. My own blessed Saviour! does He really say to me, ’ Come unto me’? Oh! I shall be glad, glad when I lay down this body of sin and death, and never, never sin...I had a very nice time to-day at my district. Jesus gave me a word to one poor woman, and she listened very attentively. I must not lose sight of her ; I feel greatly the need of the Spirit when I go amongst them. What a wonderful thing it is, that we should be allowed to go and tell sinners like ourselves of such a glorious Saviour!"

"I think I never feel so happy as when I am going from one poor wretched dwelling to another, trying with stammering, and alas! most sinful lips, to tell about the Lamb of God. Oh! it is glorious work; it is angelic work, and yet it is not given to angels, but to sinners...Have you seen ____ lately? I was sorry to hear of a dance she had been at. Poor — — ! I fear she has not given her heart to Jesus yet."

"P____ December 17, 1845…Do you not long for the time when we shall never part from each other any more, and when we shall meet, too, with beloved brothers and sisters in the Lord, even now with Him, and even now talking with Him of the decease which he did accomplish at Jerusalem? Blessed, glorious Jesus! I wish I knew Him! How like the wilderness this world has seemed the few last months even to me, though I have not been in such a hot furnace as you! Heaven seems more real than ever; and it is good to feel this. We should not feel at home here…Perhaps we may see few more years come in. O that this one that is so nearly here were to be spent more to His glory by all His children! Mrs. D____ wants me to visit at the House of Refuge. What do you think about it? I am afraid I at least am not capable of such a work. There are children, and sick people, and old women, all needy souls. It would be pleasant work to go and tell some of them of the Lamb of God, who can take away all their sins; but I fear my unfitness. Pray about it; and, oh, pray for three souls in my district, whom I am particularly anxious about! God knows all their cases. One is B____’s father. O that I could win this soul to Jesus!—not I,but that He would use me as the unworthy instrument, if that be for His glory. The other cases are women, one self-righteous, the other very ignorant. I feel very much just now the need of the Spirit to bless my .poor efforts; but He will come if we pray for Him, and I am sure there is great need of Him here. There are many means, but as yet little blessing. I often wonder why this is the case; but still it is encouraging, and matter for praise, that there are any even a little moved. But I must finish. May He who never slumbers nor sleeps watch over you this night."

"P____, December 29, 1845…I must write you a few lines tonight, as I want to have a chat with you, before this year passes, never to return…There is nothing worth living for in this sad world but to win souls to Jesus…I like what you say about Jesus having compassion on the ignorant. It came home to me, for I am more truly ignorant, and I am worse than only knowing that I know nothing, for I am often tempted to think that I know something. I cannot tell you how sweet I felt what you said about that. Surely, Jesus will look with great compassion on me! We must plead much for one another during this approaching prayerunion. It is sweet to think there is to be one…What a world this is! We are really getting deeper and deeper into the dark wilderness. May it make us long for the cloudless day, the sinless eternity, to which all God’s saints are hastening. And oh, may the Sun of Righteousness arise, even now, with healing in his wings, and may that sun never set!…I have begun to visit at the House of Refuge. Oh, think if we could win jewels for the crown of Jesus out of that place! E. and I went for the first time on Friday last, but we were very newto it, and we did not speak to many. One woman, however, we are much interested in. Pray for her. I went again alone to-day, and saw her, and had a long talk. I am determined to win that soul. O that I may not seek my own glory in it! I then went to another room in the hospital, and read and spoke to a great many old and sick women; I cannot think how I had courage to do it. Surely God strengthened me. Oh, it is glorious work! There is nothing makes the world disappear like speaking to souls about Jesus. Eternity seems everything; and then how humble you feel that He should permit you to speak to sinners for Him! I could scarcely stand it. Ask for me that God would strengthen me, and teach me, and give me love to souls for His sake, and that He would give us souls in that place. O that the Spirit would come down! Mrs. H____ gave me a sweet word of encouragement about it; I am sure God gave it to her, for it came to me with such sweetness and power—’He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing PRECIOUS seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him! Let us plead the precious promise in His name in whom all the promises are yea and amen, and we shall not labour in vain; let us take it as our motto-text for our districts, in all our efforts; but oh! what efforts mine are! poor, weak, sinful, feeble; but through Jesus, they are mighty to the pulling down of strongholds. I am glad we have been sent to the Refuge; it is so sweet to go from one sick-bed to another, stammering out some words about the Heavenly Physician…And now farewell for the present. May you be filled with the peace that passeth all understanding, and may you in body, soul, and spirit be preserved blameless to the coming of the Lord; and oh! if it be His will, may you and I meet again even in the wilderness, to talk together of all His wondrous works, to tell one another what He has done for our souls, and to exalt His name together. Dear Saviour! glorious Immanuel, I wish I knew Thee better, and served Thee better. I wish much, you would pray for me, that if I am spared to see another year, I may spend it entirely for God, and with God. I do wish (if I know myself at all) to live as a child of light, as a pilgrim travelling to another land; but if it is only wishes, that is of no use. How grieved and ashamed I am, when I think of all the sins and shortcomings of this past year! Will you ask forgiveness for them all, and also that I may overcome, through Christ, all my sins and temptations, particularly slothfulness, selfishness, worldliness, and desire for my own glory? I have many, many more than these, but I seem to see these particularly. Pray that they may really be overcome; and pride too. I sometimes fear I shall never get over my sins, for I see, when I look in, I am intending at some future time to be better, and to live really as a child of God; but then I see I am always putting it off, instead of beginning now. Oh! I am weary of myself at times, but, thanks be to our wonderful God, He is not weary of me, and He will perfect the work He has begun. O that the next year may truly be a new year with all God’s dear children!"