CLXXXV.

DEAR TOMMY,

HAVING a bad cold, and being hoarse, I am like a dumb dog that cannot bark. But, through mercy, I can believe. A divine compulsion has wrought this; "As soon as they hear of me they shall obey me." This, Tommy, is more than all Adam's family can say; for we are born in unbelief, and nothing but divine power can make that injurious bolt fly back, and give way. Reproof, conviction, truth, and faith, all come into the heart at once. That which convicts me I know to be true, and the power which I feel I am forced to believe. This is the grace, Tommy, that feeds the soul, and dresses it in the Saviour's robe; which claims our adoption, and the promised parentage of God. Tender my kind love to Mrs. O. and believe me

Yours most truly,

W. H. S.S.

Previous Letter