Brighthelmstone, September 1, 1763
I HAVE at last got a spare hour to write to
my dear friends at, and to tell them
how much I wish all spiritual blessings in Christ Jesus may be theirs. Since I left you, all has been hurry, traveling from place to place, till kind Providence has brought me to Brighthelmstone, where I hope for a little rest — not so much to my soul; blessed be the grace of sweet Jesus, I have that — but rest from distraction, hurry, dust, heat, and want of sleep. This is a kind of heaven after a storm. Not that I expect a continual calm here: it would be a sad place indeed, if there were no enemies, no warfare, no trials and troubles in it. These I must have wherever I go; because they grow in my constitution, and are nourished in the body of sin: and because without them I should not know how to prize Christ. But I find my retired and private times are the best for my own soul, as more public times are for others; and yet that sweetest blessed Jesus, when I am in his work, takes care of me, and when I am watering others he does not leave me unwatered myself. I am a witness for him. I have been preaching his salvation many years in the midst of a crowd, living all the time in a great hurry; and yet I gain every year some fresh knowledge of myself, some more knowledge of my incarnate God, and some steadier trust and dependence upon him; and I can say it is good for me that I have been a poor despised preacher of Christ Jesus.
Now, what can I wish my dear friend more for her peace and blessedness, than that the dear Saviour may do for her what he has done for me, only in a greater degree? for I am sure it is a growing thing. In the knowledge of ourselves we may certainly increase. There is a mystery of iniquity in us which we shall not perfectly comprehend so long as we live. But as we make fresh discoveries of it we shall see our want more of Christ, and thereby get more knowledge of the great mystery of godliness. The sense of our manifold wants will magnify the riches of his grace in supplying them. So the lower man is abased, the higher is the Saviour exalted. And this will of course bring us to make more use of him, to trust him more, and to live more upon him, which is the blessedness of faith. When I feel the depth of my distress and wants, and the infinite riches of Jesus’ grace to supply them, then faith does its office aright, when it is not discouraged by a sense of many increasing wants, but is thereby made to cleave closer to Jesus, and to prize him more. This is my present state; and in it I have a pleasure which cannot be described. The height of Jesus’ grace is so exactly suited to the depth of my distress, that I am ready to glory in it. I would not be without one single want. My wants are my happiness. They make Christ so exceedingly desirable, that fresh wants add to him in my eyes fresh beauty. It is a pleasure to be in his debt — yea, the greatest I know of. I would not have inherent righteousness if I could get it for nothing. I would not be rich, and increased in goods, and have need of nothing from him, if it was possible. His glory is my heart’s delight; and therefore I love to glorify him by living upon his fullness. I, nothing — He, all in ALL. When it is thus with me I am safe and happy. I am the greatest fool that ever lived — I feel it! and that makes his wisdom so precious, I am the chief of sinners — I find it daily; and that makes his blood and righteousness my continual delight. I have as many evil tempers as the devil: Oh! how they stir, and fight against the Spirit! But Jesus is my sanctification. He has given them their death’s wound; and by and by they will expire, and be no more. In myself I deserve hell every moment; but Jesus is my redemption, my eternal redemption. Oh! how my heart loves him! He knows it well. And if I am ever vouchsafed (why should I doubt it?) to see him face to face, I will acknowledge him to be all in all, and rejoice to acknowledge it forever. And it will be the very heaven of heavens (truly I taste something of heaven in thinking of it) to give him the glory of my crown, and to lay it low at his fe. orthy is the Lamb. Thanks be to him, I can sing this song now, but in a poor strain to what I hope to do soon. Sweet Jesus, bring you and me safe to the eternal enjoyment of him and his glory.
I am sorry to stop, to tell you of two parcels I left at, one for you and another
for Mr,. I hope they are come safe to
hand. Inclosed in yours was a Field’s Bible, the best present I could think of for your kindness to me, and another little pocket
Bible for dear. One favor would I
beg, if you would grant it me; and that is, for you both to read the Bible over once in these little keepsakes. I have many reasons for asking this lavor; but one is peculiar to myself, namely, that it will often put you in mind of your faithful friend in the bond of the Spirit, W. R.