TO MISS L., AT CHARLESTON, S. C. Boston, August 5, 1813. How much do we lose by setting up the Dagon of our own selfish desires, in opposition to the will of God! Dear M., let us wrestle and strive to feel a perfect confidence in the integrity and uprightness of His government, who disposes of all things, according to his sovereign pleasure, not only with regard to the universe at large, but with regard to us individually. It is a blessed exhortation, "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not to thine own understanding." May our hearts ever respond, Lord, we will trust in thee, for thou art faithfulness and truth, thy throne is established in righteousness; good and upright is the Lord, therefore will he teach sinners in the way. I fear to say I long to love him, for my desires are so feeble and languid, compared with what they ought to be, that they hardly deserve the name; but I do long to hate the vile; dishonourable ingratitude which prevents my loving him more. Pray for me, that I may not mistake the sparks of my own kindling, for the light of heaven; but that I may be so transformed into the divine likeness, as to be able to say, Truly, O Lord, I am thy servant. Your letter was a great comfort to me. I trust my dear brother died in the faith and hope of the Gospel. His patience under his severe sufferings, his consciousness of the faint proportion which they bore to the desert of his sins, and the deep interest he took in the eternal welfare of those about him, furnished pleasing evidence that he had been born again. When I learned the favourable state of his mind, it took away the sting of death, and I had not a desire to recal him. On the contrary, it seemed as if the language of my heart ought to be, and in some degree was, Bless the Lord, O my soul ! August 5. I have, some days past, been rather weak and debilitated, and, at times, considerably depressed in spirits. Death has appeared distressing to me. I have been too anxious to live. My heart is drawn out in love to my poor fellow-worms, who have been the mere instruments by which God has conveyed his mercies to my soul; while my heavenly Benefactor, `the source of all I enjoy and all I need, has been forgotten. Oh, my leanness, my leanness! I think I had some life in prayer this evening, some feelings of satisfaction at being in the hands of God for life and death. I think the employments of heaven seemed sweet to me, and a place at God's right-hand desirable, as a release from this bondage of corruption, under which I desire continually to groan. Thou Searcher of hearts, teach me what I am! And oh! bear up my fainting spirit, amidst all the trials and temptations which beset me, in my journey through the wilderness of this world, so that I may not dishonour thee by impatience, despondency, and unbelief! Dear Saviour, I long to see thee with the eye of faith! Unbelief throws her mist over my soul, and I grovel in darkness. Shine into my heart, and give me the light of the knowledge of thy glory! New London, September 2, 1813.. As I know it will be gratifying to you to hear of our welfare, I embrace this early opportunity to inform you of it. The first and second days of our journey were very unpleasant. On Wednesday night we reached, very much to our satisfaction, the welcome habitation of our parents. How refreshing is rest after the fatigues of a journey! How comfortable is home, after having been wandering, for days, or weeks, among strangers! Could we, my dear H., feel about spiritual, as we do about temporal things, sweet indeed would be the prospect of leaving our earthly house of this tabernacle, and entering into that eternal habitation, that habitation of rest, that remaineth for the people of God! Could we but climb where Moses stood, And view the landscape o'er, could we feel that our souls were prepared for the employments and the joys of the heavenly world, how pleasant would be the thought, that the hours which must intervene, before we enter the promised land, are so rapidly passing away! May we, my dear girl, be enabled so to work out our salvation, so to stand like those who wait for the coming of their Lord, as to rejoice, at the end of our course, in an admission to those mansions which Jesus has gone to prepare, in his Father's house, for them that love him. That life is best spent which has continually this end for its object. October 3. Since last writing in this Journal, [Aug. 5,] I have experienced a variety of changes both in situation and feeling. Soon after that date I went to Bridgewater for my health, and was a good deal cast down, and, I fear, unreconciled to the divine will respecting me. The thought of leaving my husband and children was very distressing. A cloud of darkness hid the divine countenance from my soul, and I walked in the gloom of midnight. One communion season was allowed me while there; but I did not enjoy it; and all the afternoon, I was seeking after an absent God. My mind was greatly distressed. It appeared to me that an idolatrous attachment to the creature, and an extreme desire to live, were the separating sins between God and my soul; and I was afraid that, at the last, I should be found wanting. One great cause of anxiety was, lest, when I should become sick unto death, I should be left to those turns of gloom and despair to which I have been subject from infancy; and thus manifest my want of the graces of faith and love, and bring a reproach upon religion. Never was there so impotent, so weak a creature as I. Truly I am crushed before the moth. If I ever endure hardness as a good soldier of the cross, all the glory will, plainly, be the Lord's. If I am called to endure affliction, and am not swallowed up with overmuch sorrow, it will evidently be the strength of God alone that sustains me; and I do think I shall not, I cannot, be so ungrateful as to forget the merciful and powerful hand that has upheld me. O God, have pity on thy poor worm, who shrinks at the slightest blast; and let thine own power rest upon me! Then indeed shall my infirmity be my glory. 10. I am again called to write in a chamber of sickness. On the 4th, I took a severe cold, and have ever since been confined. My mind was, at first, in a comfortable frame; but on Friday, I felt greatly distressed on account of my rebellious disposition. When in health I think I can say, Thy will be done; but, as soon as there appears to be danger of being called from life, I feel that I am far from the spirit which these words express. One of my domestics has also been taken sick, and obliged to go away. I feel that my chastisements are just. God has been dealing with me for my sins. I have been deprived of the privilege of attending the communion to-day. I hope to be humbled by it.: may My gracious Lord, I think, did lead me to plead with him for those spiritual provisions, of which the provisions of his table are the symbols. I think I felt my will more bowed, and a greater desire to relinquish every idol, than at any time before. God grant I may not be deceived! Oh, that I may henceforward live as a pilgrim and a stranger on the earth; that I not be so dismayed when I have reason to apprehend death may be near! I must be more frequent in the practice of self-examination; a duty I have much neglected, chiefly because I have found it so difficult to perform it without distraction; a fact that should have had just the contrary influence, exciting me to more frequent and strenuous endeavours to perform it aright. O God, lead me into the knowledge of myself, and guide me in the way everlasting! 13. This has been a public day. When I saw the multitudes flocking to see the parade, &c. I could not help reflecting, how much more I enjoyed in my sick chamber, than they possibly could in such futile pleasures. And if I, who am less than the least of all saints, enjoy so much, what must those who continually live near to God enjoy? Those lines of Pope, One self-approving hour whole years outweighs, came into my mind; and, though I do not altogether agree with him in the spirit of the passage, presuming that he refers to a satisfactory consciousness of rectitude before the Deity, yet there is a sweet peace arising from the humble hope that our conduct is in some good measure regulated by the standard of the Gospel, and that our aim is universal obedience. This peace is unspeakably consolatory. Such a peace it is that Jesus has left to his disciples, a peace founded on evidence of that faith in Christ which justifies the soul' |