April 6. I spent this morning in answering questions which my father put to me about secular things in England. This I did for the following reasons:--1. I had scarcely ever spoken about these things in my letters, indeed so little, that my father told me, he had often intended to ask me whether it was forbidden in England to send letters abroad about such matters, as I never wrote about them. I had refrained from doing so, partly, on account of want of time; and, partly, because I had better things to write about, wishing to direct his mind to the things of God. 2. Now, however, I spoke on these subjects, because I particularly desired to be as kind, affectionate, and obliging as I conscientiously could, considering that this was the testimony I was especially called on to give. Formerly I had much pressed the things of God on him, and not with sufficient tenderness, knowing not then experimentally the helplessness of the creature. After it had pleased the Lord to show me the truth more clearly, in the summer of 1829, I wrote in a different way; but in the commencement of the year 1833 I felt pressed in spirit once more, most fully, not so much as a son, but as a servant of Christ, to write, and to point out to him minutely his state, showing him the danger of his soul, the grounds of which I fully laid before him. When this, as formerly, greatly displeased him, I ceased to speak any more in this way, and from that time I aimed and still aim more and more to show him love in action, as it becomes a believing son, telling him only how happy I am--how I am supported under such and such trials--how I am not caring about certain things as formerly I did--in what an awful state I was once living, and how God brought me out of it; and how any sinner, by forsaking his evil ways, and believing on the Lord Jesus, may be brought to the same joy and happiness, and what a delight it would be to me to meet my father at last in heaven, &c. Since I have corresponded with him in this way, things have been very comfortable, though I have brought as much truth before him as formerly, and though I have never sent a letter without speaking, comparatively, much about these things. On the same ground I have not on this visit spoken directly to my father about the state of his soul, though he has more than ever heard the truth from my lips. God has indeed been with me, and I believe that I have been led by Him to pursue this course. Different, however, has been the way in which I have dealt with my unconverted brother; for the relationship in which I stand to him is a different one. For this afternoon, I not only pointed out to him his danger, but spoke also respecting his sins, and have done so in my letters, and intend to do so still, if the Lord permit.
This afternoon brother Knabe called on me. He told me that he had already experienced a trial on account of his intention to pay the money, as his wife tried to keep him from it, by endeavouring to persuade him that God does not require him to do such a thing, as he has taken two orphan children into his house. He nevertheless is determined to do it. He saw, however, another difficulty, which was, that, when he looked over the papers containing the names of his creditors, it was found that all but three, out of about thirty, were dead, and he did not know what to do concerning them. I told him to go to those places where his creditors used to live, and he might find, perhaps, some needy widows and fatherless children, whom they had left behind; and, if not, he should inquire after the lawful heirs, and pay the money to them. He saw with me, and declared his full intention to do so, whatever it might cost, and seemed truly glad that God at last, through my advice, had delivered him from this burden; for from time to time the matter had pressed on his conscience that he ought to do it.--I spent this evening in relating to my father and brother some of the Lord's dealings with me in England, particularly how He has graciously provided for my temporal wants in answer to prayer, and they both seemed to feel, for the moment at least the blessedness of such a life.