great deal is but a little of what ought to be said of him. But pray him to show himself and his own love to your heart; then you will love him indeed": all the world would love him, did they but rightly know him. Well, if you love the Lord Jesus, you will certainly overcome at last; and then you shall have the crown of life, and all the happiness which is contained in the promises made to them who overcome, in the second and third chapter of Revelations. My dear child, pray to him, and never be content or satisfied till you feel your desire and love fixed upon him. Nothing less will content me for you. If you should behave to me and your mamma with the greatest tenderness, affection, and attention as you grow up (as I hope you will, and you yourself are sensible you ought), still I should weep over you, if I saw you negligent and ungrateful towards the Lord. We love you, and would do much to show it; but we could not, we dare not, be crucified for you. This was such love as only he could show; judge what a return it calls for from you. Not to love the Lord, is a disposition of the height of wickedness and the depth of misery. Believe me to be yours. MY DEAR CHILD, LETTER II. Old Jewry, October 22, 1779. You may well expect to hear from me; but you will hardly expect a long letter, if you remember what little leisure I have in London. Almost every day loads me with debt, and brings me letters 1 which I am not able to anwer; but my dear Betsy must not be forgotten. We have been here a fortnight and upwards; the Lord gave us a pleasant and safe journey. Your mamma has been, upon the whole, comfortably well; and as you know we are at Dr.-'s, I need not tell you that we are situated as much to our minds as can be, in the midst of so much noise and smoke. But here I can have no garden; no pretty walks amongst trees and fields; no birds but such as are prisoners in iron cages, so that I pity them, for all their singing. But the same sun that shines at N, is often to be seen at London; and the Lord Jesus, like the sun, is in all places at once. Go where we will, we are not far from him, if we have but eyes to see him, and hearts to perceive him. My dear child, when you look at the sun, I wish it may lead your thoughts to him who made it, and who placed it in the firmament, not only to give us light, but to be the brightest, noblest emblem of himself: there is but one sun, and there needs not another; so there is but one Saviour; but he is complete and all-sufficient, the sun of righteousness, the fountain of life and comfort; his beams, wherever they reach, bring healing, strength, peace, and joy to the soul. Pray to him, my dear, to shine forth, and reveal himself to you. O, how different is he from all that you have ever seen with your bodily eyes! he is the sun of the soul, and he can make you as sensible of his presence as you are of the sunshine at noon-day; and when once you obtain a clear sight of him, a thousand little things, which have hitherto engaged your attention, will in a manner disappear. As by the light of op'ning day, I entreat, I charge you to ask him every day to show himself to you. Think of him as being always with you; about your path by day, about your bed by night, nearer to you than any object you can see, though you see him not; whether you are sitting or walking, in company or alone. People often consider God as if he saw them from a great distance: but this is wrong; for though he be in heaven, the heaven of heavens cannot contain him; he is as much with us as with the angels; in him we live, and move, and have our being; as we live in the air which surrounds us, and is within us, so that it cannot be separated from us a moment. And whatever thoughts you can obtain of God from the Scripture, as great, holy, wise, and good, endea. vour to apply them all to Jesus Christ, who once died upon the cross, for he is the true God and eternal life, with whom you have to do, and though he be the King of kings and Lord of lords, and rules over all; he is so condescending and compassionate, that he will hear and answer the prayer of a child. Seek him, and you shall find him; whatever else you seek, you may be disappointed, but he is never sought in vain. Your very affectionate. A LETTER III. Charles Square, Hoxton, April 8, 1780. MY DEAR CHILD, I HAVE heard of you several times since I received your letter, which I wished to answer before. I would be thankful that you are well, and I hope you 1 are happy, that is, in the common sense of the word; for, strictly speaking, happiness is not to be found here. I hope, however, you are cheerful, thankful, and, in some degree, satisfied with your lot; and, in order to this, I would wish you to look round you, and see how many children are sick, while you are well; poor and destitute, while you are provided, not only with the necessaries, but the comforts of life. How many, again, are exposed to hard and unkind treatment, whereas you are noticed and caressed, and have kiud friends abroad and at home. Once more considered how many are brought up in ignorance and wickedness, have nothing but evil examples, and it is to be feared will go from bad to worse as they grow up; while you have the advantage of good education and good examples, and are placed where you can hear the precious Gospel, by which the Lord gives faith and salvation to them that seek him. Then ask yourself how is it, or why you are better off than they? And I hope there is something within you that will tell you, whatever the reason may be, it is not because you are better in yourself, or deserve better things than others. Your heart is no better; you likewise are a sinner; you were born with a sinful disposition, and, though you are a child, you have sinned against the Lord; so that had he been strict to mark what is amiss, he might justly have cut you off long ago. The reason why you are so favoured, must be the Lord's mercy and goodness. He pitied you when you did not know how to pity yourself; and in his providence he removed you from a place where you would probably have remained ignorant of Him, and he placed you under our care, and made you dear to us, that we might feel a pleasure in doing every thing in our power to promote your welfare. And I hope that you and we shall have reason to thank him that you came to us. The days are growing long, the summer is coming, and among the many pleasant days of sum. mer, there is one which I hope will bring you home. I believe you will be glad to come, and we shall be - glad to see you: I hope you will like the house. There are green trees in front, and a green field backwards, with cows feeding in it; so that it has some little resemblance of the country. Your mamma desired Miss to send you a cake, which I hope you received; and if you did, I suppose it is all gone by this time: for they say, you cannot eat your cake and have it. It is a true saying, and full of meaning. Look at all that appears good and pleasant in this world; could you call it all your own, it would last but a little while, and when you go into another world, the remembrance of what you had in this, will be but like remembering you once had a cake, but it is gone, quite eaten up. But it is not so, my dear child, with respect to that feast which Jesus prepares for poor sinners. The pleasures which he gives are repeated from time to time, and are pleasing even when we reflect on them. And in the other world, when earthly pleasures will be quite ended, they that love him shall have pleasure without interruption and without end, rivers of pleasure at his right hand for evermore. The Lord bless you, and keep you. It is one of my pleasures while here to think of you, to feel for you, and to write to you as Your affectionate |