To Noctua Aurita, in the Desert.
I was very glad to hear, by one of your friends from London, that your health was much established by your late excursion. sincerely hope it may please God to continue it to you; and likewise that it would please him that you may again have a prosperous journey to us, that you may come in the fullness of the blessings of the gospel of Christ. I would it was in my power to say a great deal about what I received from your last Letter. But I have apparently lost all that I then received Item it. Had I wrote at the time I received it, I do not know where my pen would run to; and this was what kept me from writing; for my mind has been sorely exercised about my having made so free with you, in writing you such long Letters. But, whether this distress comes from Satan or not, I have not wisdom to discover. However, at the time I read your Letter it did sweetly confirm the work on my soul, and I seemed to be brought to a point about every thing that had been done upon me. But now I have lost all; and I begin to call almost every thing in question.
It is in vain for me to attempt to describe the darkness, deadness, fretfulness, and rebellion, which I feel within. I complain with David, that my strength is dried up like a potsherd. I do believe that there never was such a composition of ingredients in the world before as I am made up of. I am unstable as water; my strength is so small that I faint in every day of adversity. However, it can be of no use troubling you with such things as these; therefore I must conclude; but, amidst all, believe me to remain
Your affectionate friend,
In the briars and thorns.
The master desires his kind love to you. I send you this only by way of telling you that I cannot write.