*MR. _V._ has desired me to meet Dr. **** at his house; but though I honour the character of that worthy man, yet I rather _fear_, than _desire_ to do this. I really now dread the being set up as something to be thought well of. I see such a depth of pride and self-love in my own heart, that I dread any thing, which can give the least food to these hellish tempers. I am well satisfied, that there can be no perfect peace, no perfect love, till these be done away. Was not the blessed Jesus _meek_ and _lowly_ of heart? Was not he despised and rejected? And we? Oh, my dear love, tremble for yourself and for me. We are esteemed, admired, and sought after. Do we not, think you, tread upon burning coals? How dangerous, how difficult to act for the glory of God, without sacrificing something to self? And this self is all that separates from God――this self is all that keeps the blessings both of time and eternity from our souls. Oh let us learn, and know and feel, that we are nothing, and that God is all in all. Certain it is that unless we die with Christ, we cannot rise to his life. Unless we are crucified with him here, we cannot reign with him hereafter. Let us then nail our corrupt nature to his cross, and continually mortify every temper that is contrary to his perfect will. Suffer we must; but the love of God will make all sufferings sweet, and his grace will enable us to conquer all difficulties. I rejoice at the victory, which you tell me has been given you over (I suppose) some reigning sin. Is not this encouragement to press forward? If you would preserve constant peace and recollection, look more into your own heart, and lay not out yourself too much upon others. I have seen so much of the ill effects of this, that I dread it both for you and myself. Watch continually.
_Your ever affectionate_, &c.
****
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YOUR letter, my dear life, has given me great pleasure. This is indeed, as it ought to be. And Oh by no means suffer this anxious desire after God, this thirst after holiness to abate; only let it be mixed with that kind of resignation, which implies a willingness to suffer, so you may be kept from sin. The pain you speak of I rejoice in. Oh my love, this is right; and may you more and more be conformed to Jesus Christ, and him crucified. A soul thus pained, thus longing, thus struggling for salvation, and at the same time lying low at the foot of the cross, and crying, “Lord thy will be done,” is an object in which the holy angels rejoice, nay on which God himself looks down well pleased. To such a soul every gospel blessing is near at hand. The Sun of Righteousness is on the point of rising in it with healing in his wings; the eternal Comforter is ready to witness with it, that it is born of God, and to fill it with that peace, which passeth all understanding. The blessed and adorable Trinity is ready to raise it from its fallen state, and to perfect the new creation. What encouraging prospects! Only let not this happy pain be taken from you by any comfort the world can give, but hold it dear to your heart, as light to your eyes, till God himself change it to joy unspeakable.
*I have long thought that to wish for any thing, but the salvation of our own souls and that of others is wrong: because in nothing else can we be sure that our wishes are agreeable to the will of God. I do not know how to believe, that you could wish for more riches; and if the being pleased with the thoughts of gain proceeded only from this motive, that you thought God was putting it more in your power to relieve the necessities of others, I would not dare to condemn you: but it is so difficult to take any satisfaction of this kind without some mixture of worldly-mindedness, that we cannot be too careful in this respect; nay we ought rather to fear lest we should not be found faithful stewards of the talents put into our hands, as knowing, that both in spiritual and temporal blessings, “To whom much is given, of them shall much be required.”
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_My dear Friend_,