London, November 26, 1794

DEAR SIR,

I TAKE a whole sheet, for I have a large packet to answer. I date the top, but what date the bottom may bear is yet unknown.

I do not wonder that Moses would have been willing to wait a little longer for heaven, to have seen Israel established in Canaan, though he was sure it would he so after his decease. God has in mercy so constituted the human frame, as to produce an engagement of heart in necessary affairs, so that we are not only employed in his service, but interested in what he appoints us to do. Because it is his concern, it becomes our own. This wonderfully sweetens labour, and likewise keeps up that attention and exertion, which are necessary to our doing things as well as we can. Perhaps you have known parents who seemed very willing to go to heaven (if it were the Lord’s time) and yet not unwilling to live a little longer to see a dear child comfortably settled before they went. Surely the object of Moses’s desire was as noble and important as any thing that we can propose on earth now. Moses loved Israel, and longed to see them settled, but when the Lord forbad it, he cheerfully acquiesced.

Abraham was, as you observe, a great man yet he was but a man. We may admire his faith and obedience, for the bible commends them, and holds him forth to us as a pattern; yet he had no more inherent, or properly his own, than you or I. When left a little to himself, this great believer stooped to equivocation and falsehood to save his life, when it was, in reality, in no danger. Let us learn a lesson from him in this case like j wise, not to presume upon our past experience upon the grace or comfort of yesterday, as though” these could warrant our standing to-morrow. We cannot see by the light of yesterday, nor subsist long upon yesterday’s food. We need continual supplies, help every moment. Therefore let us not be high-minded, but fear. So long as we feel our weakness, and lean upon an almighty arm, we are safe, but no longer.

I think Bucer’s answer to his judges, “that he did not wear a square hat, because he had not a square head,” was more smart than solid, if college caps then were like those worn now; for though the outside of the cap is of a square form, the crown is quite as round, and as shapeable to the head as the crown of your three-corned hat.

The profanation of the Lord’s day is undoubte*dy a great sin. But many sin through ignorance. They have neidier good example to lead them to church, nor good instruction when they go. It is one of the many crying sins, which form our national character. But I do not think it is the loudest. And I think the guilt of it lies heavily on the great, the magistrates, and the clergy. If the hungry sheep look up, they are not fed, or the places where there is food for them are very few. When I see multitudes customarily breaking the sabbath, I think such was my practice once; and I hope some of you will know better before you die. I obtained mercy.

Grace reigned in my case, and grace is still upon the throne!

I have known more instances than one of dreams resembling Mrs. Tooley’s, and they are worth recording when verified by the event; but this is not always the case. Dreams are to me a sufficient proof, first, that we are surrounded by visible agents, and liable to impressions from them when our senses are asleep, and perhaps when they are indisposed by nervous disorders, but not when we are in perfect health, or distinctly awake. N. B. It is a great mercy that some of these agents are under a restraint,, or we should be scared by dreams and terrified by visions every night! Second, I infer from dreams, that there is a power belonging to the mind, adapted to the unseen state, which though dormant when we are awake, is active in sleep. Then we seem to perceive by intuition. We are engaged in scenes we had no consciousness of before, and yet we know all that is going forward, take a part in the business, and are engaged and interested as if we were quite at home. This appears very wonderful to me. I think we know very little of our own powers at present. Third, Though some dreams are important, perhaps monitory, perhaps prophetical, as I believe that mentioned in my narrative was; yet there is so much uncertainty in their general character, that we should be cautious of laying much stress upon them, at the time. I had once a young lady a month at my house, who had the singular faculty of dreaming that she heard a sermon every night; and she usually told us the text, the heads, and much of the discourse at breakfast. The preacher was sometimes one whom she knew, and sometimes an utter stranger. But when she married, she lost her gift; and, poor thing, she has since met with many things which she never dreamed of.

Now for Mr. ****. His case is a strong proof of the power of habit. How else could he have been afraid to shorten his prayers, when the general voice of his people pronounced them too long? He knew the gospel too well to expect to be heard for his much speaking. I think very long prayers more blameable than long sermons. A peculiar attention is due when speaking to the Most High; and if the attention be overstrained by the length of the service, it is lost time to the hearer. Weariness of mind in prayer, and the thought still returning — When will you have done? is worse than unpleasant, especially to persons of weak judgment, who charge their consciences with guilt, for the speaker’s indiscretion.

The holiness of sinners and angels, which you seem to compare, differ not only in degree, but also in kind. A hare or a greyhound can run swiftly, but they cannot fly like an eagle, had they been made to fly they would have had wings. We hope to be as the angels before long, but at present, in our compound state of spirit and matter, the distinction between us and them is no less real than between birds and beasts. The holiness of a sinner consists chiefly of low thoughts of self, and high thoughts of the Saviour. These will always be in proportion. The lower we appear to ourselves, the more highly we shall esteem him. The more his glory strikes us, the more we shall sink in our own eyes. Could you find the man who has most of these properties, you would find the most holy man upon earth. And as we advance in these, we shall, in the same degree, attain to every thing else that properly belongs to holiness. Why are we liable to anger, pride, positiveness, and other evil tempers? but because we think too highly of ourselves, and suppose we are not treated as we ought to be. Why are we so apt to be captivated with the gewgaws of the world? but because we are so faintly impressed with a real sense of the excellence of Jesus. We say indeed that his loving-kindness is better than life, but if we really and fully thought so, hard things would be easy, and bitter sweet, and there would be no room for impatience or discontent in our hearts. But alas! all within us, and all around us, is defective and polluted!

The death of Mr. Y***, and of many others who are daily removed, are encouragements to us to trust the Lord when our call shall come. They who are born of God belong to his heavenly kingdom. They who are not, belong, at least for the present, to the kingdom of the wicked one. Neither the one nor the other, while in the body, can have a full perception of what awaits them; but, at the approach of death the respective scenes begin to open.*

‘The soul’s dark cottage, tatter’d and decayxl, Lets in new light through chinks ’

It is not necessary to suppose that the believer upon his dying bed is, strictly speaking, better than the believers who are around him, listening with admiration to his words; but now he stands upon the threshold of glory, he sees more, and therefore he can say more than he did formerly.

* Mr. Y*** was converted under the ministry of Mr Whitfield, and lived a humble, consistent christian, to the age of fourscore. His faculties latterly were so impaired that he neither knew his wife, nor his most intimate acquaintance when they called on him. He said much during his last days, and the manner and matter of his sayings indicated that he thought himself in heaven, in the immediate presence of his God and Saviour. In health he conversed but little upon any subject; but in his last illness he spoke much to the honour of God, and to the comfort and joy of those around him. His last words were “Mv King! my Lord 1”

And often the impenitent sinner before his departure has such discoveries as terrify not only himself, but all who are about him: but what passes within the curtains seldom transpires abroad. We observe that christian* who walk uprightly and humbly, generally express the same feelings when they come to die; or rather they give intimations of views and feelings which they find no words to express.

Now I will tell you a story. It was in the newspaper some years ago; but possibly you may not have heard it.

A German prince, travelling through France, visited the arsenal at Toulon, where the gallies are kept. The commandant, as a compliment to his rank, said, he was welcome to set any one galley slave at liberty, whom he should choose to select. The prince, willing to make the best use of this privilege, spoke to many of them in succession, inquiring why they were condemned to the gallies. Injustice, oppression, false accusation, were the only causes they could assign — they were all innocent and ill-treated. At last he came to one, who when asked the same question, answered to this effect. “My Lord, I have no reason to complain. I have been a very wicked desperate wretch. I have often deserved to be broken alive upon the wheel. I account it a great mercy that I am here.” The prince fixed his eyes upon himr gave him a gentle blow upon the head, and said, You wicked wretch, it is a pity you should be placed among so many honest men; by your own confession you are bad enough to corrupt them all, but you shall not stay with them another day.” Then turning to the officer, he said, “This is the man, Sir, whom I wish to be released.”

Was not this a wise decision: Must not all who hear the story allow, that the man who was so sensible of his guilt, and so submissive to his punishment was, in all probability, the most worthy of pardon, and the most likely not to abuse it? Though the ways of God and his thoughts are higher than ours, yet upon some occasions, and when their own concerns are not in question, men, by their judgments, shew that they can form no just objections to his.

Think of me if we live to the 15th December,* It stands first in the list of my memorable days. It calls me to the special exercise of humiliation and praise. Not that the subject is out of my thoughts the year round. The Lord’s goodness, and my own folly and ingratitude, during a course of forty years, suggest matter for daily meditation. The four years since my bereavement have been more free from snares and cares than any former period of my life; and therefore I ought to number them among the

* Anniversary of airs. Newton’s death.

happiest I have seen. Blessed be his name, who can make losses gains, and cause comforts to spring from our crosses. For the rest, the Lord deals so bountifully with me, that I have not a wish to form. I have health, peace, plenty, friends, acceptance; I can still preach, and have reason to hope I am useful. I am very happy in domestic life, so that I still find home is home. What can I desire more? Through mercy, I know and feel that the world can offer nothing to amend my situation. The lines are fallen to me in a pleasant place. He who brought me out of the house of bondage in Africa, has dealt well with me in the wilderness! How wonderfully has he led me about, and kept me as the apple of his eye!

But I am drawing near 70, and cannot be far from Jordan. I am at present willing to live; and I trust when the time comes, the Lord will make me willing to die. It is easy to talk of death while he is at a distance. But I rely upon his promise of strength according to the day, to enable me to meet him with composure. Let us pray for grace to live to-day, and to leave to-morrow at his wise disposal. I commend you to his blessing. I am

Your affectionate friend,

J. N.

28 Nov.