DEAR partner in life and in covenant love, grace be with thee and thy little troop. I am at present very well in health, I have enjoyed more of the powerful presence of God than usual, the enjoyment of him has been sweet to my soul.
I often take a solitary walk by the river Trent, and muse on the wonderful scheme of everlasting love. My soul is more dead to the world than ever; all indeed is vanity and vexation of spirit, but in my God solid peace and everlasting felicity. I know not why heaven should stoop so low as to look on such mortals, but it is the most high God's doings, and it is marvellous in our eyes. I envy no man's happiness; mine all lies in a bleeding Saviour; he is and shall be the portion of my soul in this house of my pilgrimage. The rich, the gay, the polite, the wise, and all pass me on the road, and pass me in silence. I am out of the world and not worthy of this world's notice, and indeed this world is dead to me.
My mind is kept remarkably pure, and all my happiness is alone in my God; indeed I think this will be the happy and undeserved cud of my worthless, soul-all glory be to the free and sovereign grace of my most blessed Father. The very nights are sweet to me, and no company like that of my God. Why I am so highly favoured I know not, I have done nothing worthy of this his notice, but he will be gracious to whom he will be gracious. I am in a place where there are many professing people, still I find but very few who see what I see; I much fear many in the end will meet with the disapprobation of my Lord and Master. Few, indeed very few, understand the good fight of faith; heaven is easily obtained by them; but the real saint must take it by force; and if these do not I doubt they will cry, Lord, Lord, when it will be too late.
I do not enjoy my comfort alone, I call you and the little ones up with me to prayer in my faith, and surely my desire is that you and the little ones may be saved. I keep close to my study, and commune alone with my own heart. I sit from morning till night in my own room, except when I eat my meals, or walk by my highly favoured river, the Trent. Give my love to Ruth and Naomi, and all, if they can read this. If you choose you may write me a line, use your own liberty in it, as I know not when I shall return home; but I shall not write to you any more except I hear from you. Fare you well, grace be with thee and thine; from
Your affectionate husband in Christ,
W. H.
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