XXXIII

1803.

IT is agreeable to my promise that I send a few scraps to my old companions in travail. Mr. B. met us many miles on the road, and was very glad to see me. We arrived safe and in good time; and I believe I continued my sermon with the little one for near thirty miles, with little intermission. She seems exceedingly low, and low she must and will go if she belongs to the royal family of the house of David; not only to discover the sin of her nature, and the follies of her life, but to stir up and purge out what she has been for five years scraping together as a covering. The new cloth will never agree with the old garment, especially when the human web is spun first, and the Lord's wedding garment of white linen is brought forth to complete it. Nor will the new wine of heavenly joy and love remain long in a hard, unfeeling, and insensible heart. Heavy and lasting afflictions fill the soul with trouble, grief, and sorrow, and by sorrow of heart the spirit is broken; and it is a broken spirit and a contrite heart which is the new bottle. The new wine of heavenly joy in a broken heart will not swell it with vanity, nor burst it with pride. A new heart, and a new spirit; both these are preserved, according to Christ's promise, nor can Satan destroy either. She says but little. At breakfast poor Mrs. B. who is very ill, and going off , apace, as we were talking together about her former troubles, and her present hopes, seemed broken-hearted, and thankful to God for his mercy to her, while my lady seemed very much cut up, and wept bitterly, and has been shut up in her room ever since: and as for me, I fetch all my hopes of her from her misery; and my faith tells me that her heart is not half so holy, so pure, and so good now, as it was when she first came among us; and I hope to roll her in the ditch till her own clothes abhor her; for none but lunatics and lepers are fit for our infirmary; and, indeed, it was built for no other at first. She had some time ago a singular dream, of God bringing her to judgment in this world; and it appeared to me a very scriptural account of the judgment and sharp trial of a poor convinced sinner: for I know that God fills Zion with judgment and righteousness; judgment first and righteousness afterwards; and it is by the spirit of judgment and by the spirit of burning that our guilt and filth are purged from us: and the devil is busy enough in his constant attendance on this court, to see how the matter will go, in hopes that we shall either hate the light, flee from the truth, despair of his mercy, or fly in the face of the Almighty. But, but, but - we have an Advocate with the Father, and he has appeased the wrath of God, which was provoked at our sins; and God will not gratify the devil's rage in condemning us poor debtors, and our ever-blessed Surety too: for our God hates the devil more than we do: he suffers him to labour hard at us, and to try his infernal skill upon us; and, in spite of all Satan's craft, malice, and cunning, we remain just where we were, at the foot of Christ, suing for mercy. And I do believe that it is one part of the devil's punishment to be suffered to wreak his rage on the vessels of mercy; for what can be a greater torment than to labour to destroy those his envious mind abhors, and yet to labour in vain? How desperate do we see apostates, whose heart God has turned to hate his people, and to deal subtilely with his servants, when their rage is kindled, and they would wish to send us out of this world, and from all the glories of another! I say, how desperate they are when they find they can do us no hurt! How many javelins did Saul throw at poor David! how many bitter oaths, threatenings, and sentences, did Saul breathe out against the son of Jesse! Every time the devil entered Saul this was David's perilous case; and every time that God checked the devil, and made him depart from Saul, Saul cried, "Return, my son David, thou art more righteous than I." But, when men are given up to the devil, they are not to be believed though they speak fair, for there are seven abominations in their heart, because, like Mary, seven devils have entered into them; and these go in and out of their own habitation but still it is under the strong and ruling hand of God, or else wo be to us.

I am at present rather low and meek, and have been kindly indulged in prayer both last night and this morning; for which kind indulgence I thank my God: nor have I neglected to pray for the poor dears in London. These lines, as well as my prayers, are intended for thee.

Ever yours,

S.S.

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