DEAR SISTER,--Grace, mercy, and peace be to you.--I long to hear how your soul prospereth.
I am as well as a prisoner of Christ can be, feasted and made fat with the comforts of God. Christ's kisses are made sweeter to my soul than ever they were. I would not change my Master with all the kings of clay upon the earth. Oh! my Well-beloved is altogether lovely and loving. I care not what flesh can do.
I persuade my soul that I delivered the truth of Christ to you. Slip not from it, for any bosts or fear of men. If ye go against the truth of Christ that I now suffer for, I shall bear witness against you in the day of Christ.
Sister, fasten your grip fast on Christ. Follow not the guises of this sinful world. Let not this clay portion of earth take up your soul: it is the portion of bastards, and ye are a child of God; and, therefore, seek your Father's heritage. Send up your heart to see the dwelling house and fair rooms in the New City. Fy, fy upon those who cry, "Up with the world and down with conscience and heaven!" We have bairn's wits, and therefore we cannot prize Christ aright. Counsel your husband, and mother, to make them ready for eternity. That day is drawing nigh.
Pray for me, the prisoner of Christ. I cannot forget you.
Your lawful pastor and brother,