**&*- No. 102, PEACE IN BELIEVING. ! BY Rey. C. MANLY, TUSKALOOSA, ALA. •■> 1 8 G 3 . t/l ''hM 1 IE IN BELIEVING LETTER 1. September 17th, 1S43.1 . Dead C\ — A few oavs ago I received a lei: or from 5, N. , He had found an opportunity by some friends t.v write-. But such a letter as it was! So efSutknis,. every expres- sion so care.fiHy guarded, lest it should fall into the wrong Lands, and his ■ sen turnouts betrayed.) It mi terrible to him tu Kve among the avowed enemies of the" only country be will ever elaiui ad ho those bv whom he -is surroupdffl 1 : Ipving, jvith all the ardor- of a ■passionate nature, the South; and ret -.obliged to hear, is abused nnd know thai he cannot defend it. I pity him with ul! my -Iti-ait. But this is the least of bis troubles. There is one shad- ow which hajig« % over his life blacker,- more ' terrih]e trran this; and that, is the fate of poor II. fie sav*. he has prayed ea rnesrly for deoi h, or for strength lo h -ar this trial ; and yet writes, " lie is a praycr-onsu \ I, and yet here I am still, with no strength, -but rather piea'.ei weak- ness." I wish I could say any thing' to comfort, him • i eouia say any PC 4218 but what can I say, when— I kno"V what I am going to ?ay will shock you, but it is sadly true — when*, so otten the same conviction has forced itself on my mind. 1 know the Bible speaks of a prayer-hearing God ; but that God i haw* never, then, truly found. He may be to to (titters, but to me he has never been so. I have prayed, often earnestly, and I -thought, with faith, (for I believed those prayers would be answered), but I have prayed vainly. You tell me to pray for resignation : how can I, when now 1 know I pray without faith, without hope $f any effect? lam ashamed to make this confession — and would not if I did not hope that you might be able to tell me where the fault is, and point me some* way of relief.- I am aU wrong — J* know I am ; and yet I do so long to b.t very good ! Some- times, that is; but some times I . fear I become despairingly indifferent, thinking it little-use to try There now ! I have said a great deal more thau I intended. Hitherto I have kept all this to myself, and perhaps ought to have continued to do so. Only, when I read E.'s letter I longed to know something to sa\ to him, and yet I felt I had nothing to offer. I depart from S. iibout October 1st. Your friend, A. LETTER 2 . Sept. 30th lSb'i. "Dear A. — Sickness has prevented my replying to your last till now. But this wjji intercept you in your journey, and may relieve for a few moments, the tedium of the road you will have to 'ravel. I am glad you have confided in me enough to let me know youp state of mind ; even though I may be sihle to be of very liu-le service to you. When 1 was .tDO unwell to write, I thought of you again and again, and feared it would be long before I could write to -you. What you say of yourself does k>t -h.uk -*~i vcu su^pyosd ii JouJsL Pe*iia$*ffout &* d* experience I have myself had in a similar way, It would have hud some such effect. But I am not ;i stranger to precisely the same distressing state that youdescribe as your own. Do not, therefore, conclude that your case is so pecnliar ns that there has never been one like it. You see, tor yourself that there is sit 'least (.me other in a similar condition, vihom you would glad- ly have eomibrtcu. I wish you had tried it- itwoujd hav'e done you good. Indeed, I hopu you did try. It certamly could do no harm. 1 doub* not, if the history of every Christian's heart could be placed before our eyes, there would" he -but few who have not, at some period of (heir lives, been made to feel as though God were rthy, un- done sinner. You remember that beautiful hymn, "Just as I am." That is the true sentiment. Make it 3 our own. As ever, yours," C. LETTE R 3 . Oct. 8th, 1861. Dear C. — 1 thank you more than I can express, for your kindly sympathizing letter in return for minu, which I feared would be very wearisome to j T ou. It rvotT* h'y reieved ihe to- dinm of the journey while reading it, bu! h:f* given me much food for thought ever since. I trust, too, \ouitllbrt to asdsstmo has not been in vain altogether. Certainly there has been much comfort in the thought that, far as I feel I am from God, I may yet perhaps be Win; for in all my wanderings f have never desired to. choose'nny other save Christ. Still again and again has the question arisen, "Am I a child of God?" And : review- ing my hie since my public profession, T could not but answer, "&." Long ago this doubt arose, and I often feared that I had too hastily attached myself to the church, when T WftS yet too much a child to know exactly what I did. At first, this gave me much pain ; but soon that wore away, -aud I feK relieved to think that it was not necessary for me to struggle to be good. Still I despiFed myself as a hypocrite, and would have given worlds if 1 could have withdrawn from the church without tha publicity which would attend such an act. I shrank from com- munion seasons with nervous dread; for the words, "He that «atoth and drinketh unwortily," were ever in my- mind. This wa.s the state of things when "the last protracted meeting was held in our ehurch ; at which you were present. While others hailed it' with jov, I dreaded it At first I ^only attended when ,it was absolutely imposs hie to find an excu=e not to do so. — But 1 soon became interested and deeply affected. When oth- ers presented themselves for prayer, I felt that it would he fit-* cr for me to bo ihere tlian with the children of God One nif lit , 1 remember particularly, a number united with the chun-h, and the members went forward to wclconje them. T was among the last, for 1 could scarcely command myself sufficiently to appear composed. Af'ier Bervice I met you, and almost ask- ed that when you remembered these new convene in your prayers, you would not forget one who had more need of pray- er than they. But my courage tailed; or perhaps, lo speak more truly \prfde restrained me. After this meeting, by decrees, I relapsed into my old state. AVhen I felt that "sin had dominion javer me," and that I had no strength to resist temptation, and that prayer seemed to bring no relief, I concluded thai 1 was inrjeed a cast-away, and there was no balm in Gilead for w j ar I cannot even noio.ejairn to be " panting after God" — I fear I am generally very much too indifferent. And yet'if Jt I know where I might find Him, I wcuid g-> even to His seat." S)me things, too, still affect me with a great longing to be a true Christian. For instance, there are two passages in the Bibla that I can never hear without a strange thrill. One which' you j^oke of — "Lord thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee." The other, u BJessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God "• Both I feel to he the language of my heart. I have always onged for tfiat purity of heart, and felt that, even without the promise attached, those who possessed it were in- deed " blessed." But i his onlv fills me with a deeper conscious- ness of my unwortiiinessi to approach a holy God. I fear you have so often heard from others confessions s'milar to these, that you are. almost weary of them; hut t! e kind in- terest you expressed, and willingness to hear further on this subject, has emboldened me to write thrrs much. You would hardly helieve what an effort it has cost me so far to reveal the state of my feelings; ior you cannot know how jealously I have guarded any expression Qf any em'otion whatever. However. I will not retract now. A. LETTER 4. Oct 29th, 1861. Dear A. — Your l?st note increased, if possible, my interest in your state of mind, as you described it. You may wonder, then, why an answer has been so long delayed. It is simply because my engagements have been such, since the receipt of you note, as absolutely to prevent me from writing. It may be that this has been providential for us both. I hope it may 11 prove so, and that God's hand may be more clearly i6en in all the ways by which you may be led. For my own part I caunot but believe that you .ire iidw, and have for some time b?en passing through the discipline of God's hands — and my prayer always for you is that God will carry on the work He has began, to the preparing you better for useful service in His cause in the future. The difficulty,! feel in writing to you is two-fold : on the one hand, I do not wish to " break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking ilix ;" and on th? other, 1 would not wish to excite within you any hopes that may prove the source of confusion, or which subsequent experience will prove to be groundless. What you have said in regard to E; N. in your note, only con- firms my opinion, expressed in m / last note to you, io regard to his dse. I do not doubt that Goi will finally " make dark- ness tight before him." I am hot surprised at the chill Wff, crushing doubts he expresses^ Thank God if you hare thus far escaped them ; and never consider that all is lost, if they should at any time overtake yon. • Such cases are more com- mon than many suppose. I have myself been tossed on that dark, stormy sea — "and/' like Paul, "when neither sun nor stars in many days appealed, and no small tempest lay on me, all hope that I should be saved was then taken away." May God spare you that bitter* anguish! Though, we do not know ivhat is best. His will be done. % ' I do not think it uncommon nor unaccountable f hat those who, having been converted, are accustomed to rely on their feelings for spiritual comfort, (young persons, especially), and who decide on their spiritual condition by their feelings, should, when these have lost some of their freshness doubt the reality of their piety and write " bitter things " against themselves. — And this is especially the case if there is he consciousness of needect of plain duties. For then an accusing conscience drives away all comfortable feelings, and nothing i3 left to give hope; having before derived all 66m fort from feelings. This wh>le business of trusting to feeling has more of self-righteous- ness mingled with it than many suspect. And God often takes severe means to rid the soul of it. Pie leaves his people, "to prove all that is in their heart" — and that, when recovered, then may not only strengthen their brethren, but that they may remember and be confounded and never frpen their mouth' any ■ 12 • ■ more because of their shame, when He-is pacified toward them furallihat they have (lone. Luke 22 : ^31—82 ; Ezek. 1G : 63 ; l>ut. 8 : 2. J>. is true that Christians should expect comforta- ble feelings — there is something wrong if they are long with- out them — but" to make .hem the ground of our confidence, as to the reality and measure of our piety, is equally wrong. For not only do we, then, mingle self too much with Jesus' work, but our feelings avo often despondent on bodily changes, health, &c. ; and surely that is not a safe criterion of our state -in God'3 sight, which an east'wind or a tooth-ache may affact. I mention these things, not to persuade you that your state of mind is attributable to any such causes, (for I am sure there are other and more serious ones ; though th°se may have op- erated to so "ne extent ;) but that you may see one error, at least, that is not uncommon. I would like to know, sometime, more of the history of your early doubts. But that is not im- portant now. Let me say. these things : You have long time-been in the frame of mind you describe — there has, therefore, something of a habit of doubt, gloom, despair been formed. This habit of mind is itself sinful: you have, of course, a3 you say, "wandered ever farther and farther from'the fold of God." The distance may be very great — God, alone, can tell how great. Be profoundly convinced of the value of your soul. Remem- ber that no work can be compared, in importance, with that of securing your everlasting salvation. " Nothing is worth a thought, beneath,. But how I may escape the death Thfrt never, never dies ! ' * Hot? ma>ko mine own election sure; . And when I fail on earth, secure A. man3'on in the skies." Bft willingr to know the truth as to your state in Gr>d-'s sight. Be not afraul of it. The sooner you know it th« better — what-, ever it may be. Jtnd with the earnest self-examination you may institute, se^k divine search also. " Search me God," &c. Ps. 139: 23 — 24. If you say that yen have already in- stituted as strict and impartial a self-examina1h;n as you know how, and can arrive at no certain conclusion, or if the result IS incline* you to the conviction that you are BM not a child ot God, then I would aay. — Remember that Jesus is able and willing to save y*u t though you were the chief of sinners ; and think him for showing his love to you in atoaking you to a sense of your true condition. And if indeed you find ttat you do not have any love for His name, His cause, His hope, His word; but on the contrary, care nothing about these things, then be in earnest in seeking His forgivfng grace; never, under any circumstances, lose sight of the truth that He is able to save unto the uttermost all who come to God by Him, and that lie will cast out none who come. % But. if you fiud that yon can solemnly appeal to the omnis- cient God for the truth of your love to Him— if, notwithstand- ing all its imperfections, you can i say, " Thou knovrsi that I love thee," if filled with a sense of prevailing corruption, that which you lo"g for more than any possession on earth besides, is a ware heart — if yon do "hunger and thirst after righteous- ness '' O ! however far you may have wandered; however much backslidden, remember that .Te-suer^nys, ''Return u^to me." — Take with yoft words, and turn to the Lord : £ay unto Him. "Take away all iniquity and receive me gr^iously ; so will I render praise. Hoe. J ' : '•'Just ;is I am, without one plea," &c. I would earnestly advise you to engage in some work for Christ. Th ,j S. School may n°ed you — doubtless you need it. Do what you can for. Him, at all events. You have abundant reason to consecrate every power to His servire, in trying to benefit others — though you yourself should perish. I own that that is a sad ->oneiusion ; but it is a true one. And remember that Christ's blood, His atonement, is the only ground of hope of salvaiion. And we "joy in God" when • we ■ "receive the atonement," Rom. 5: II and 3 : .20— 26 and 6 : I. I do not wonder that you " shrank from communion seasons with nervous dread" — and that while others , hailed the pro- tracted meeting with joy, you dreaded it. How could it be otherwise, with your state of mind ? I was going to say, I wish you had toljl me your condition a year ago — but perhaps it is all bebt as it is. God help you now to get out of it as soon 14 &ff possible. Your case h far from being a hopeloss one, tut it «ight to ex'ite intense concern You ask, " Can it ever b^ wrong to pray for the spiritual welfare of another? " Certainly not :. e tea as it can never be wrong to pray for Jour "own spiritual welfare. Nay, we sin if we do not pray. But as God otte'n, for wine purposes, delays an- swers to prayers for such blessings', or. answers th Q in in a way altogether unIook°d for, so He may and often dos3, delay to grant our prayers for the spiritual welfare of others, cr answers tbem in such a way that we can hnrdly persuade ourselves that He is answering them at all. See haw Job judges, 9 : 16 — -'18. Is not that the feeling of every one of "Us I We call for the physician ; and when he comes we cannot believe that it is he that has come, or we wish him a^ay, because he gives us bit- ter medicine. '" But this/' you will gay,' " has been for so long a time, is it not time for Him to hear, if He intends i-i hear at all?" 1 do not know — you do not know. Perhaps He does hear ; perhaps is answering, though you are ignorant of it. You remembsr Newton's hymn , "I asked th4bLord that I might grow," &o. That is the history of more than one case. See Isa. 42 : 1G. Among other sins, be sure to confess that of unhelief. And " take heed, Jest there be in you an evil heart of unbelief in departing from the living tGrdd." No possession is so sad as '*' an evil heart of unbelief." I have a little book called " Grace magnified," which is an account given by a living minister of some of his deep spiritual t (roubles. If you would like to see it, I will send it to you. . May God bless you aud%e with you ! As-ever, yours, •■•. C. 15 LETTEft 6 , Nov. 9th, 1861, ' Dear C. — I feel that I have much cause to thank God that I was led to apply to you, a 'id to thank .«u • )t you have manifested in my ease Nothing has gives one moie ?our^ age to continue to trouble you than what vou tell me ot' having experienced these doubts yourself. When I first wrote to you on this subject, it was with fe*r and trembling ; for 1 dreaded lest you should crush out the little, hope that remained, and condemn me for having dared so long to class myself with the people of God Not that you had ever been otherwise than kind to me — kind as a brother could have been — but I thought your faith had never for one moment wa- vered, and that you would have little sympathy with one who had strayed so far ; and I felt, too, that I did not deserve to be kindly dealt with. So it was more in desperation, than with any hope of help that I applied to vou. I bad struggled so long, alone, with my heavy Imrden, I felt as if it might be some relief to confess its existence ; and perhaps, too, I thought this confession might be some atonement for the hypocrisy of which I h^d long*, though unintentionally, been guilty. Nope I feel that the hand of God was in it as I have at last been led to feel that His mercy has directed every event of my life. 1 s- e now that, while I have been rebelling against Him and c d imperfect, but it is real, This you admit. You can net dmy that you trust in Him for salvation, and that if He fa 1 you, then all is gone. Then, to be hply, to be happy, to s^rve God, to do \vh it lie commands you, " Reckon you," &c. Rom. G: 1 — !•!• You have for hmg years been trying to make yourself wortlsv of I before God. — You hi. ve tried tho working plan long enough— -now try the believing p'a'i. ' Rom. 4: 4 — .">. You find that you "havV an antipathy to many very good people." This is not because they are good, T know ; but ba- c tuse of their fault-;. If they Were free 4rom these, your anti- pathy would rcase - Wh^t vou havfl an antipathy to, therefore, is their wa^s more than <}\-. mselves. Now I have no idea that wc are expee'ed to love ail the ways of even very good' people — so long as they are not altogether perfect We ought to do the contrary, very often. If you do not distinguish between persons and their ways, I do not wonder that yon have an anti- pathy co some ^ery good persons, even : especially, if they are given to a, species of cant — a thing from which I shrink with perfect abhorrence, wherever found. I know a number of per- sons whom I believe to be Christiana ; but" very many of whoje ways I never can, never wish to like. But I am sure I desire to love piety wherever found, though in the humblest and low- est person in the land, and to love him for his piety. And I try to love these persons in spite of iheir imperfections, remem- bering.my own — to avoid their errors and copy their virtues. I ■ believe you do too.. I am not at all surprised that you have not relished God's word, and that it has wearied you "like a twice-told tale." How could 1t be Otherw'ge, so long "as you had that slavish spirit towards God ? Ah ! A , you have been working up hill — and yours has bee 1 ', for the most part, a it cad-mill pre- ffre8S f You took many steps but made no advance. May God sanctify your tedious journey to you, in making you willing to be wholly saved by Christ alone. The moments of rest you may have occasionally had, were given you because God has loved you all along, aud they were in fepite of your constant distrust of Him. Like Noah's weary dov^, you have soagrht rest — you have found nothing perfectly satisfying, nor can you, out of Christ. It is through Grod'a tender mercy that you have not been permitted to rest on a false ground of hope, which should finally prove to you the source of confusion. Now, cease this restless pursuit— Jesivs calls you to save you, all by H\mself. It is ti me, now to rest. • fi Behold tha ark of God, Behold the opea door: hasta to gain that dear abode, * And rove, and rove uo more. 'there safe thou shalt abide, There ssveet shall be thy rest; And every longing satisfied, . With full salvation blest " " Blessed. are they which,do hunger and thirst after righteous- ness ; for they shall ve filled/' I sentl you " Grace Magnified." It will do you good to read it. I do not know what to tell yau to do, in the way of active service for Christ. .If you a jk Him, He will show you what you ought to do. As ever, yours, . C. • LETTER 7. Dec, 12th, 1861. T)par 0. — I thank you for your little book, and am very glad you lent it to me. After what I have told you, you will proba- bly see that it reminded me very forcibly of my, own late expe- rience ; though I have not the presuimptioa to think it an en- tirely analogous case. I fear I never suffered as deeply as the author describes himself to have done — never felt sucii keen anguish on acoouDt of my sins — never struggled so earnestly for light— never so yearned for holiness ; for my natural impa- tience made me cast the whoie subject from me when it became too'biinfnl to be endured. And though I often suffered torn* fely, yet this was never .» very protracted struggle, for I wae al- ways too ready to give it up as hopeless. Still, vou nr-y imag- ine, I wad never very happy, ami in my gayest moment "there was a secret bitterness in my heart that turned all my phasure into gall. I can truly sympathize with the author when he says, " I cannot, pray in what I consider prayer ; I cannot repent m what I regard to be repentance : I cannot brieve in the Scrip- tural sense of that term ; I cannot dove God with my whole heart, as He should be loved by a rational being : I cannot feel, nor do anything 'hat a Christian ought to do, to glorify God." (P. C5.) "When, at last, this great darkness was dispelled,! did not find mvso.lf in the ecstasy which he describes; but doubtless, Inasmuch as my sorrow was les,s a^cute, my joy was also less exquisite Still there stole into my heart a great peace and content — a feeling of infinite rest — and I well re- member the occi~-ion. It was while I was listening to a ser- mon from the words, " I voll bring the blind," &e. (Isa. 42: 16.) I felt, then. tbatl had been indeed Mind, not bofore to behold and acknowledge my Saviour's wonderful mercy towards me. I felt all that day again like the anchor. I prayed God to take me away to Him,' while my love Avas yet fresh and ardent ; for I dreaded again to fall iuio'a state ofcoldnesa and indiffer- ence. And again and again, the words of that beautiful hymn occurred to me, " I ^ra weary of strayinjr — 0, fain would I rest In the far distant land of the pure and the Idest; I irra weary, ray Saviour, of grieving tby lovo; O when eh'all I rest in thy prescDco above. Since that time there have beCn many hours of doubt and dark- less, many times when I have exclaimed, "after- all, I am not a Christian," many errors and misapprehensions, (some of which you kindly cprrected in your last letter :) but still, when I do apply the test and call upoft the hr>art searching God, I I can still cry. sincerely I think, li Lord Thou knowe.-tall things, 1 Thou knowest that. I love thee ! " Too often I feel " my love is weak and faint ; " still 1 cannot, I dare not, give up this hope, and I know and feci that my only safety is at His feet. I am ignorant and weak as a child- -1 caun >t. take one step without ' ?> His aid. When I tried it, I wandered so... Car away that the journey back has been long and painful. pray for nie, that now that I have ffcu.nd Him again, I may ever cling close to Hira and never resign my hold on Him, for one moment. Do you remember some verses you once repeated, when preaching in our church, commencing (I think) " Cling close to the Holy One?" # If, some leisure time, you would copy them off- for me, I would he ve*y much obliged. The late sad events in our family h.av*e .drawn me closer to the Suviour's- feet. .1 have learned the meaning of the Saviour's exhoitatio.n to'" become as little children; " and wonder no longer that " of such is the kingdom-of heaven." Such trust, such unques-* tinning faith in God as J— — exhibited will, I hope, always he a lesson to me, Then, Besides, .1 learned what consolation the promises of the Bible* can afford in such au hour. One thing more : the words "When thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren," have many times lately occurred to me, and I .have been wondering whether I*was really as willing to work for Christ as I said I was. I complained that I did not know what He would have me to do ; and now I much 'ear f that, if I knew, I would not be ready to no it. I don't know what it is— —I hope not ialse shame, but something has" held me back a thousand times when I might have Apoken for Jesus. Twice I remember being appealed to for counsel and direction on this subject, and instead of saying "Behold the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world," I actually waived the subject, and refused to speck! Would you, can you believe it? And though, in bittf r repentance I 1 ave prayed. for.those persons ever since, how can I hope for an answer to my pray- ers—I, who "quenched the smoking flax?" One of them is far away on a distant battle field, and daily I fear to hear that he has been summoned into the presence of his Judge. Do vou wondorthat after this I dare not tr rust myself— daie not be-' lievethat I am willing to do aught to help the rau^e of Christ ? Another thine I would like to ask you: and that- if, why, when my stated hours for prayer arrive, my mind wanders to other subjects, ray heart becomes cold as a stone, my prayers are lifeless and heartless, and I offer Qjalj Up servipe ? Now, when you tell roe of Jesus' dying love, my heart glows within me j and at other times, during the weekf when I remember Him, my prayers ascend continually, and His name is- sweet to my ear ; 23 but when I come to pray, I become dull and insensible. Sure- ly, something is very wrong about it, and yet I vainly struggle — vainly pr#y that J may learn to pray aright. ■ Won't you pray for me that this m;iy cease fobs so? Your friend, A. . I have written to E., to-ni:* M, and have tried to help him; but am much afraid that I did not know how to go abput it aright. At any rate, I can try to pray for him. LETTER 8 . Dec. 17, 1801. Dear A. — With this this, I send you a copy of the lines you asked for in ypur note of the 1 2tl>;- ^ I, too, read " Grace Magnified " with much of the interest that would attach to a record of my own experience; for I found many things in it to remind mc forcibly of my own ex- ercises of mind. But, like you, I may say that they did not result in such an ecsfaaj as the author describes — my sorrow for sin being less accutc, my joy was also less thrilling. — "Great peace and content— a feeling of infinite rest/' — would better have desci ibed my state of mind. It appeared to me as if Jesus had come tame and spoken as lie did to His disciples in the storm in which He slept, and said, " Peace, be still ! " and my agitated, unquiet heart had dih- solved into blessed repose. I do not wonder that you have since been troubled some- times with darkness and difficulties. I do know that it is a very common thing in the experience of God's children in similar circumstances. The author of "G.ace Magnified," youreuiembeiyiotes the return of that Horrid darkness, even after his deliverance. In his case, however, it was soon dis- 24 Bipated by " looking to Jesus" as " ever living to make in- tercession for us." God " teaclietli. us to profit v — when He begins a work, He carries it on. We would often be content with the knowledge we have at first gained; but He would make us know more of His fullness — and, to do this, He of- ten leads us into great straits, where is horrible darkness. " Thbu shalt remember all the way," &c* Deut. 8 : 2 — 5. Read that whole passage ; indeed, the whole chapter is per- tinent. ' ■ ■■ pv<*. After God has brought "the blind by a way they knew not," He often leads ihem felt all along, that this does not absolve me from the guilt of having " denied the Lord. 1 ' But I do not now mourn hopelessly, when I remember "if any man sin wc have an advocate, with the Father, oven Jeiu3 Christ tho Righteous. " YourJiiend, ' g A. P. o. — Siuee writing tho foregoing, we have just heard that P is considered dying. I leave at once on this sad journey. . • * LETTER 1 p . Jan. 8th, 1862. Bear A — I am indeed sorry for the circumstances that caused you to leave h.ome, hut hope you v, ill find P better than you feared. As ycror" movements are uncer ; tain,--to us, at least — -I do not know that this will reach you; but I thought I would make the experiment. Sad as such journey necessarily is, you must know that the thoughts and prayers of some are following you ; commit- ting you all to the#ave of Him that keepeth Israel, who neither slumbers nor sleep** He " worketh all things af- ter the counsel of His.ovui will; " and " we know that all things work together for yood to them that love God." — Think not that God intends evil by causing your family so often lately to pass under the rod, and making dark, heavy clouds gather above you. Try, cbWrfully, to wait on Him, Mid all will be well. He will give honey in the wilderness and springs in the desert ; the pillar of fire and of cloud will not be taken away, nor the manna for daily need be removed, till you have passed the narrow stream that sep- arates from the rest that femaineth for the people of God. Never fear, therefore; never lose courage nor hope. As to those friends before whom you icel that you have denied your Lord, it seems to me that if, indeed, on- of 29 them intended siivply to prove you \rfth bard questions, silence was the best answer that could have, been given. To have said anything would have been to '• cast pearls be- fore swine." There is a tune to keep silenee as well as a time to spoak. As to the other— as to both indeed — con- sider what the Lord Je^us says —He who knows what re- ception pra3'ers meet with on high—' 1 Therefore I say unto you, what things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that yt» receive them, and ye shall have them." Mark 1 1 : 24. To expect nothing, is to take away the life of prayer. May you yet experience " the -powes of the Holy Ghost/' and may God direct you into the knowledge of Him and en- lighten }ou more and more ! As ever, yours, C. so I WILL COME TO- JESUS. r Just as I am, without one pica But that thy blood was shed for me, . And that thou bidbt Die come to tht*$, O -Lamb of God ; 1 come! Just as I am, and w-iti>>g not To rid my noul of one darfc; blot — ^o thee whose Mood can cleanse each epol^ OvLauib of God, I come -I Just, as I am, poor, wretched, blind — Sight, riches, healing of the miud, Yes, all I need, in thee to find, O Lamb of God, I cornel Just as I am — though tossed about With many a conflict, many a doubt. Fightings witbin and fears without, Lamb of God, I ccmc! Just as I am, thou wilt/cceivc, Wilt welcome, pardon., clearn'e, relieve, . Because thy promise I believe : Lamb of God, I come ! Just as I am: thy love unknown Has broken every barrier down ) Now to be thine, yea, thine alone, O Lamb of God, I come !