of divine wrath, and a guilty conscience, and how much more so when compared to endless misery. I have been out once a week for these five weeks successively, to visit one little place or other adjacent, and have had a cold, but am better at present. I shall expect to see you soon, but wish you to give me a line previous, if convenient; nor will I say that I will not come to B. if the Lord should send us a little fine weather. I beg to be remembered to your spouse and family though unknown, and to brother J. and all those that love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity and truth; and subscribe myself, Dear Brother, Affectionately yours in the rough and disagreeable, but safe and sure path of tribulation,

WM. HUNTINGTON.

Poor Dear Mary,

LETTER IV.

TO MISS B.

I AM grieved to hear by Betsy, that your painful complaint has returned upon you again, and also that poor mother is very poorly still. You are not a stranger, Mary, to the holy law of God, a real application of this has, I

believe, been made to thy heart. You have felt the power of it in awakening the mind and conscience; the light of it has discovered the follies of youth, the vanity of a form of godliness, and the enmity of the carnal mind. You have felt the terrors it communicates, the wrath it reveals, the bondage that it genders, the slavish fear that it works, and you have felt the condemnation and death that it administers; these, my dear girl, are the terrible operations of it. The intention of God in this terrible work, is to destroy all vain boasting, to stop the mouth from pleading innocent, and to bring the poor sinner in guilty before God. It destroys the sandy foundation; all false hopes, false confidences, false notions of a God all mercy, an empty form of religion, and all human righteousness, supposed goodness, counterfeit holiness and vain wisdom, all give way, and let the poor sinner down into the pit of horror; here sins staring him in the face, abash and confound him, and the burden of guilt press hard upon him, and the anger of God cuts him

off.

One vain imagination still remains with him, he supposes that he has some power, some strength left him, which he supposes must be the case, because God commands him to do so much, which he thinks God would not do, if man had no power to perform. This poor withered arm is often stretched forth, and propped up with

many vows, and good resolves; but being continually disappointed, and therefore baffled and confounded, we despair of any help from this poor broken idol also, and now all refuge fails; a whole Saviour, or lost for ever. This my dear is human nature at wreck, and the whole fabric of natural religion in ruins; out of these ruins a building of mercy is raised. First, light, distant but transient views of gospel ground appears, this raises hope and expectation, which keep us from sinking lower; here and there a passage of holy writ opens to us, and lets the mind in, when a lively sweetness is tasted, this encourages hope, and this begets a firm expectation of better tidings, better days, and that it is in mercy that God has afflicted us.

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All the honour of proud and depraved nature, being stained and laid in the dust, all our thoughts are brought into willing captivity to the obedience of Christ; we think of nothing in point of acceptance with God, but by attention and obedience to the voice of Christ. All our desires meet and centre in him, and all our expectations are from him alone, and there is a sweet savour, an unction, a balmy dew in his precious name, and as this encreases, self is disrelished; and as Christ's love is felt, self, sinful self, and righteous self is loathed, debased, yea abhorred. Now our foot-hold appears firm, satan, uubelief, and polluted nature all work, but there is a firmness in the

mind, and a sensible support in the heart; and that which makes this manifest unto us is, confession, complaints, and prayers do not occupy all our time; a few thanks, blessings, and praises, will force themselves through our lips, which by fits of hope and joy rise up in the heart; this shews that the work of grace is begun, "This people have I formed for myself, they shall shew forth my praise." It shews that the gates of life and liberty begin to yield, "Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise." We may cry, groan, and sorrow in despair, or exercise desperate sorrow, but no praise will break through from the heart, till some access to God is granted; "Thou shalt call thy walls salvation, and thy gates praise."

Well, girl, you see I have pursued close after thee, and have not missed thy track; I have come step by step, and I have overtaken thee, and thou art not two footsteps from the spot which I have traced thee to. If you say, yea, such a man as you can certainly divine, then I tell thee, that thou art upon the foundation that God has laid in Zion, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against thee. Thy afflictions may be intended as a spur to diligence; secondly, to promote, and put the keener edge to appetite. There is a blessing both upon the appetite and upon the food, to shew that there is life in both: "Blessed are they that hunger and

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thirst; and God will bless Zion's provision, and satisfy her poor with bread. Betsy's letter rejoiced me, she finds meekness, and much access in prayer; this is heaven my dear Mary, pursue it night and day. I lay your case before God, and shall not forget you.

S. S.

LETTER V.

TO THE SAME.

My Dearly Beloved and longed for, my joy and the crown of my rejoicing in that day when the Lord shall make up his jewels, when the precious children of Zion that are in this world esteemed as earthen pitchers shall be as the wings of a dove covered with silver, and their feathers with yellow gold. I believe that thou art or wilt be my own child in the faith, and I hope that thou wilt not be ashamed of thy progenitor, knowing that my dark appearance will not alter thy fair skin, though I may be of some use in adorning thy soul, or be a fellow-helper of thy joy. I hope that all sight and sense of sin is not worn. off, and that the dear Redeemer's name has not lost all his sweet savour; his name is still an ointment poured forth, and this thou wilt own and confess whenever the sweet beams of his blessed