LIBRARY .■'#. ^-^-^/z- &-.y. //-^^^ 'r^^/>. '/>i£^^^-^^ EXTRACTS FROM tHE ILtttm mh otj^et mtitinss OF THE LATE JOSEPH GURNEY SEVAN; PRECEDED ^Soct laemofc nfW 3life« LONDON: PRINTED AND SOLD BY WILLIAM PHILLIPS, George fard, Lombard Strut. 1821. The E XT n acts contalnedin this little volume hare been principally selected from the papers of Joseph Gurney Bevan^ or from his letters to his friends, which they have Mndly furnished for the purpose. They are published under a belief that the writer himself would not have objected to their being printed, if, in the judgment of his surviving friends, (and to the inspection of some of these they have been subynitted,) they were calcu- lated to promote the religious welfare of a Society which he loved, and whose prosperity was an object of his earnest solicitude. J.F. South gate, 5 mo. 1821. 16424 4 CONTENTS. CHAP. I. Page Notice of the early Life of J. G. Bevan ; and of some circumstances in his private and public character * 1 CHAP. II. Letters on various subjects, written between the years 1783 and 1800 34 CHAP. III. Letters from the year 1800 to 1805 58 CHAP. IV. Letters written in the years 1805, 1806, 1807 . . 84 CHAP. V. Letters written in the years 1808 and 1809 125 CHAP. VI. Letters written in the years 1810 and 1811 150 CONTENTS. CHAP. VII. Page Letters written from 1812 to 1814; with some account of the last illness and death of J. G. Bevan , 185 CHAP. VIII. A short account of Mary Bevan 206 Detached Pieces, selected from some Manuscripts which J. G. Bevan left at the time of his decease, or extracted from some of his printed works ...213 Poetical Essays by J. G. Bevan 253 A List of the principal Publications of J. G, Bevan . 269 CHAPTER I. Notice of the early Life of J, G, Bevan; and of some circumstances in his private and public character. Joseph gurney bevan was the son of Timothy and Hannah Bevan of London, members of the religious Society of Friends ; and was born in that City, the 18th of the 2d month, 1753. In his youth he discovered a lively, affec- tionate disposition, and by his kind and sprightly behaviour, gained the love of those under whose care he was placed to receive a part of his education ; and being possessed of a quick, intelligent mind, he readily acquired a knowledge of the different branches of useful learning. He derived much information from the society of an uncle, who was both a na- turalist and an artist. His literary studies were for some years pursued under a physician, a classical scholar, who had a taste for poetry, and under whose tuition he became familiarly acquainted w ith some of the Latin poets. A love of poetry contributed to impress on the retentive memory of the subject of these remarks, expressions and sentiments learned from these writers : some of which, being of a licentious kind, he would in his maturer years gladly have forgotten. Nevertheless, he recom- mended a knowledge of the Grreek and Roman languages, under due restriction ; and from a desire to read the New Testament in the original, he applied diligently, when fifty years of age, to the study of Greek, and was amply rewarded by the pleasure which the success of his application afforded him, From his own account, and that of an inti- mate friend in early life, it appears that as he advanced towards manhood, his lively spirits, his cultivated mind, and delight in wit and mirth, caused his company to be much sought by many of his cotemporaries, and exposed him to great temptation. He has acknow- ledged that, on recurring to this period, he believed that the kind and affectionate care of his parents to render his home agreeable to him, and by thus studying his comfort there with a view to shield him from the snares of vice, had, in no small degree, been a means of his preservation. Even then, however, though he at times indulged in an undue levity of conduct, he was a lover of good men ; and would extend a friendly care over some of his companions with whom he had influence, to guard them from the extremes of levity and dissipation. His desire at that time to put on gay apparel, or rather to have his apparel made in conformity to the fashion of the day, was so strong, that he twice made an alteration in his dress; which, however, he immediately laid aside, on per- ceiving that it was an occasion of grief to his mother. For her he had a truly filial regard, founded on a sense of her tender, parental, watchful care : this affection is expressively b2 conveyed by him in the following short memo- randum : — *' 1784. 3 mo : 28. Hodie mater mea optima^ Jlentem marilum^ Jlentem Jilium reliquitJ''' — This day my excellent mother left a weeping husband, and a weeping son. In a book which belonged to him when a boy, and in which he had written " J. G. B. May 3, 1765/' the following memorandum, immediately succeeding the above name and date, has been discovered since his decease : — " Then about twelve years old. About five years afterwards, namely in 1770, having been under serious impressions of mind, one of the first things I thought it my duty to make a change in, was the heathen names of months." He was favoured with " the serious impres- sions of mind" to which he alludes, during his confinement to the house, in consequence of an illness. It appears to have been a powerful visitation of divine love, which produced a gradual change of character, and probably laid the foundation of that decided attachment to religion and virtue, for which he was after- wards so conspicuous. The resources, from which information can be drawn respecting this interesting period of liis life, are few. The intimate friend, to whom allusion has already been made, remarks that " many a low and solitary hour ev inced in him a consciousness of the slippery path in which he trod;" and there is ample reason to be- lieve, that he was enabled so to walk in the path of self-denial, as to shew that his love and fidelity to Him who had mercifully called liim into that path, were both stedfast and sincere. The following extracts from two of his letters, afford specimens of his turn of thought about that time : — " 1774, 5 mo. 10. — I was pleased at receiv- ing thy letter yesterday, and soon set about answering it, which I readily did in one that co- vered the whole sheet, and one page of another. I folded it up and sealed it, but considering further about it, I thought some parts of it had the appearance of blameable levity, and all that I could plead in the court of con- science in its favour, was not sufficient to save it. ^' I find sometimes a mighty desire to be witty; and when a thought strikes me that I conceive to be so, I am too apt to utter it, without considering whether it has any other good quality, or whether it has not bad ones to eclipse its brilliancy to a discerning eye. This desire, if encouraged, often leads us into folly, and sometimes what deserves a harsher name. An intention to make thee laugh, brought my poor letter of yesterday to an untimely end. I was not however much disappointed at de- stroying it, for while I was writing, I had the pleasure of conversation with one I had a regard foP; and I have the satisfaction of thinking I did right to burn it. " I thank thee for thy invitation. It seems to come from thy heart; and if I could con- veniently accept it, I would endeavour to con- vince you, that the pleasure I should have at being amongst you, came from mine. It is certainly now a titne when the country has a thousand charms. I enjoyed them ten days ago in Hertfordshire. Indeed, I believe that I, who in this city am immersed to the ears in the works of art, enjoy rural scenes more than those who are every day conversant with them. When I am in the country, when ' all things smile/ when ^ with fragrance and with joy my heart o'erflows,' I am ready to wish I might always abide amid so much delight. But I correct the wish ; it would soon grow familiar; and when the novelty was no more, the cares which the novelty had veiled, would appear again, and tell me, what verbal and written instruction has lold me twenty times before, that happiness is not local." ^' 1775y 2 mo. 23.— To begin with thy letter at the end, I must take notice of thy compari- son between a mind highly susceptible of pleasure and of pain, and one almost callous to either. Melancholy men, who love to suppose that this life produces more evil than good, will say that the man of sensibility will be the least happy, because there is more distress than joy for him to feel. I cannot quite be of this opinion. The sensible soul, among all its affliction, finds a kind of superiority and eleva- tion of nature, that gratifies it. Perhaps pride may be in part the cause, but the effect is certain. " It may also be questioned, if all the evils s with which this vale of tears abounds, are the natural and necessary productions of it. Are not many of our bringing on, and conse- quently in our own power to avoid ? And, as good understanding and sensibility generally go together, is not the man of feeling best qualified to avert those ills that, not inter- woven with human nature, are introduced by human folly ? In short, the same argument that prefers the unfeeling man to him who feels every thing, would prefer a stone to both : a notion most highly absurd, if not impious, as it tends to degrade the highest work of the creation beneath the lowest ; and thereby change that subordination of creatures (by which I mean any thing created), which Wis- dom's self has appointed. " As to feeling the prosperity of other?, any joy is acceptable to the mind; and those who have felt the misery of others, know that in this there is a gratification not to be parted with. If any earthly passion can bear a faint resemblance to that superior nature, which we ought to think of with reverence, and speak of with trembling, surely it is Compassion. Of this the insensible man knows nothino- ; and to feel it, is a joy worth purchasing, even at the expense of our quiet. Insensibility, therefore, must forego its claim to happiness. It is an eloquent wish in the first transports of afflic- tion ; but does not at all become the mouth of reason." In the year 177G, J. G. Bevan married Mary Plumstead, a young woman of genuine piety and circumspect conduct. About this time, his Father gave him a share in his own business, that of a Chemist and Druggist, in Plough Court, Lombard Street. In his dealings in trade, he endeavoured to maintain an unblemished character for inte- grity of conduct. He had an undeviating regard for Truth, and an utter abhorrence of deceit under any shape. The fear of violating, in his intercourse with the world, any of the precepts of the Gospel, or of acting contrary to its spirit, either for the sake of gain, or to procure outward enjoyment, early subjected him to much thoughtfulness, and led him into some practices which others, of uprightness ot heart, did not see it necessary for them to adopt. Tie exceeded most men in carrying 10 into the daily habits of life, the sentiment that he ought to avoid being in any way ac- cessary to that in another, which he was not satisfied to perform himself. These sentiments did not, however, arise from ostentation : he neither courted nor shunned the character of singularity. He steadily kept in view, and faithfully endeavoured to walk by the rule, that a Christian ought to act upon principle, and not to be deterred from doing right by any apprehension of consequences. The following memorandum was probably occasioned by the conviction that, in his own character, there were singularities which, to a superficial observer, might appear objection- able :-^ •I " If rightly to know one's self is so great an acquisition, how difficult must it be truly to know others ! How necessary, then, not rashly to censure them ; or to reject a man for diffi- culties in his character, which we, who yet, perhaps, know not ourselves, are unable to explain." During his residence in London, he was 11 chosen to act as Constable in the ward in which he lived. As he felt restrained from hiring a substitute, because, by so doing;, he would be the means of another person's taking an oath, he served the office himself; and, so far as his religious principles would admit, fulfilled the duties of it with scrupulous attention. During the year of its continuance, he was in the practice of attending every fifth night to take his rounds, and see that order was preserved in the streets ; and to preside in the watch- house, as he was required to do, until four or five o'clock in the morning. And he did not flinch from the performance of other painful and humiliating duties. In the year 17M he retired from business, Hot, as is often the case, with an increase of property, but with some considerable diminu- tion of it. This, in part, arose from his con- scientious scruples, which operated in a variety of ways against the acquisition of wealth : they prevented him from supplying armed vessels with drugs, and from employing any one to take an oath for him, in order to the obtaining of drawbacks : and when persons abroad be- came considerably indebted to him, he scrupled 12 to employ the usual means for doing himself justice. His mind was fixed upon hig^her objects ti an the things of time and sense, even upon durable riches and righteousness. When the circumstances just alluded to, the habits of his early life, and the circle of friends amongst whom he moved, are fully taken into consideration, it may be said that his income was not at that time, nor for many years after- wards, an ample one. He was liberal to the poor, and to those of limited pecuniar}' means ; but he carefully avoided making any display of benevolence. Although his associates in early life had been amongst those who might be con- sidered as above mediocrity in worldly posses- sions, he was ready, perhaps it may be said that he was peculiarly prompt, to acknowledge and to encourage piety and virtue in persons in ob- scure stations, or low circumstances in life. In thus adverting to some parts of his pri- vate conduct, the attempt has been rather to delineate the character, than to hold them ail up for imitation. Peculiar religious scruples may sometimes be intended for individual benefit, to promote the subjection of the will, and the resignation of the heart. Here, how- 13 ever, great care is necessary (and such care often possessed the mind of our deceased friend) to be well satisfied of the purity of our motives, and in fear and diffidence to examine whether the adoption of such scruples is really a divine requiring. Where this cau- tion prevails, we shall be careful not to obtrude our views upon others, not to judge them if they do not see it to be their place to walk in the same path ; but by modesty and humility to prove the uprightness of our own conduct. His outward demeanour was at times re- served; nevertheless it may be said, that those who knew him best, loved him most : to these he was endeared, not only by the high sense thej entertained of his uprightness and worth, but by his kind and affectionate exercise of a genuine Christian friendship. This reserve may, in part, be attributed to that inward conflict of mind, to which, from early life, he was no stranger; in part, to a principle of integrity, which led him to fear that he might be improperly gratified by the approbation of others; and, in part, to something of natural hauteur : but if, in the occasional prevalence of u this weakness, he apprehended that his conduct towards others had not accorded with true humility, he was ready, and even anxious, to confess the error. It is no disparagement to the worth of great and good men, to acknowledge that they have had their failings. Indeed, when it ap- pears that they have themselves been sensible of their existence, and have diligently sought for strength from the Almighty to overcome them, this becomes a fresh motive for our esteem and love; and when, in addition to this, we see that these efforts are attended with the divine blessing, we may be instructed and animated to pursue the same course, in the hope that we also may be strengthened to overcome that which most easily besets us. He possessed a strong mind, and was a man of quick perceptions ; his thoughts were rapid, and the connexion and succession of ideas unusually quick, so that his conclusions on subjects that came before him sometimes ap- peared to be almost intuitive. His time and talents were for many years so devoted to the service of the Society of which he was a mem- 15 her, that he allowed hiraself but little relax- ation in the literary pursuits of his early life. It is, however, obvious, tliat his style in writing was correct, concise, and energetic ; qualities which, no doubt, were much improved by an early acquaintance with good writers, and by a natural relish for the beauties of composition. He kept a Journal for a short period, from which the following extracts are made. They are introduced as exhibiting a specimen of that self-examination, so conducive to the advance- ment of the Christian traveller. " 1791. — 9 mo. 14. Disturbed bj hearing of the death of a man by boxing, on account of a fear that I saw the tumult in the morning, and was unwilling to interfere. 13. Learned the man was not killed ; saw him, to my great relief. 18. Morning meeting, roving thought: afternoon, some of it appeared like rest to the mind. 19. Much care in the mornings rather abated at meeting. 16 20. But a poor day : encumbered and unresigned. 26. Awoke in a calmer frame of mind than sometimes, and got through the day with more satisfaction than some others. 28. Hoped the meeting was beginning to grow better, when it was broken up. Con- demned myself in the evening, for recurring to a loose passage, for proof of the Latinity of what I had w ritten on a sacred subject. 10 mo. 5. At the monthly meeting; pretty calm, and mind close to the concerns of it. Felt spiritual pride : still the first sitting ended w ith tenderness of spirit, and the latter with calmness. Went out, after I had gone up for bed, to speak to a person about lying. 6. Let temper rise in the morning, which occasioned repentance. 8. Nothing remarkable till evening, when made work for repentance by speaking hastily to a poor person. 9. Two very poor meetings : the circum- stance above-mentioned seemed to becloud. Acknowledged the matter to the said poor person. 10. The quarterly meeting". Felt uneasy at refusing an appointment, for sinister reasons, the business of which, the committee being open, I may probably attend. 18. Something of the love towards our neighbour seemed to operate this day. 14. A gleam of tenderness in the evening, on considering the situation of a poor family. 16. Quickened in the street, at a consta- ble's having overturned a poor woman's basket of fruit, which occasioned in my mind some- thing like an intercession for her; not only that she might be cared for as poor, but brought to saving knowledge. 19. From a gentle intimation, went rather late to the Peel monthly meeting, yet could scarcely be said to be gathered in the previous sitting [or meeting for worship] . In the other, the mind seemed attentive to its concerns, and pretty quiet, 1791. 10 mo. 21. A day far from perfect resignation, yet I hope not Christless. 22. Hurried in the morning with what looked like Charity. c 18 23. Meeting not very lively, yet thought it right at the breaking up, to recommend publicly a care against entering into unneces- sary talk. 24. Kept up some watch against impa- tience and anger. f8. Some exercise, and some resignation. 11 mo. 1. Much troubled and cast down, for fear of a difficult service, and want of resignation. 2. The same in degree, attended with a wish for an opportunity of discharging what was duty. 3. More trouble on a different account, which pushed aside the former. 4. A pretty even day; a slight degree of unity with the spirit of Thomas EUwood, who says, " I found no centre but the Lord," or something like it, 5. Much occupied in the morning with talking to a child about obedience ; previous to which had been thinking about my own. 13, A favoured day. Relief at meeting, and felt thankful for my youthful visitation. 17. Much exercised, with some remission. 18. Exercise continued : relief towards ning*. 20. A dull day, and some concern for it. 22. Exceeding* great exercise, with some desire after resignation, producing even a vocal cry for being kept from erring; after which, an abatement of trouble. 12 mo. 1. A calm in the evening, under this consideration, '^ And as ye stand, praying, forgive, if ye have ought against any." On which, examined; but found no hardness to prevail against any : may I say, " The Lord be thanked." 4. Tlie forenoon meeting to me low ; the afternoon, better. 7. In the afternoon attended the close of poor Hannah Birkbeck,* whereat, I apprehend my nature bent more to affection than to Grace. 8. In talking about Hannah's death, this comfortably occurred, though not then ♦ His wife's sister, who had been long in a very infirm state of health. e 2 20 expressed — " Gathered to the just of all g^e- nerations." 9. Impatient on provocation. 11. Particularly low at the afternoon meeting ; but towards the close rather cleared up. 14. Very low part of the meeting ; better towards the close. ^ 16. To me, a comfortable meeting at the burial, from reljpf through exercise in silence. 19. Increased needless trouble in the eyening, by unwatchfulness. 24. Refreshed in mind, in the evening, in consequence of attending to a poor person. 25. Wandering at meeting ; and troubled in the evening, for having spoken w^ith too little caution. 28. Better off than sometimes at meeting, in which there appeared some united exercise. The rest of the day very much tried and cast down, with some cries in secret for help, and some interval of hope. 1792.— 1 mo. 13. Went to Meeting for «1 Sufferings, and Committee on the Slave-trade : felt unfit to say much, and, in degree, sub- mitted to it. 15. Driven by mental trouble to look to the Great Helper. A various day, with some calm, but not much comfort. 17. More resignation, and more calm than sometimes. 2 mo. 14, A day of fatigue, and some hurry, body and mind : eagerness fof spirit to be avoided more. Thomas Cash drank tea here ; apparently a calm, sweet-spirited man, shewing me some of what I want, 15. An exercised day in mind, on my own account. S mo. 12. Let warmth arise in conversa- tion, apparently on the side of right ; which gave occasion to repentance, 4 mo. 3. Affected on various accounts. Prospect of, at least, a temporary continu- ance of the ravages of the Slave-trade. 6. Uncomfortable for want of patience : an expected storm averted hy condescension. J7. A day of some dejection, through unwatchfulness and unworthiness. 27. At School-meeting, Meeting for Suf- ferings, and a Committee. Deeply exercised, with some submission ; which, though small, was, I hope, not unacceptable. 5 mo. 26. The joint meeting of the Yearly Meeting's Committee, and Meeting for Suffer- ings, closed with sweetness.* SO. An exercised mind at meeting ; but comforted through some lively communica- tions. 6 mo. 20. Suifered much, and did wrong, through impatience. 7 mo. 11. Comforted in the morning, on reading " None shall be able to pluck them out of my hand." 17. Not apparently a very useful day. 8 mo. 8. At meeting, and Monthly Meet- ing, with some calm impression of the saying — * This Meeting had been for some days employed in preparing an Appendix to the Book of Extracts ; or " Extracts from the Minutes and Advices of the Yearly Meeting." 23 '*' We are unprofitable servants ;'* yet, after- wards, overshot my mark by saying too much at a time. 24. Went to 's, shoemaker, who reminded me of having reproved and reasoned with him, when a boy, for swearing. Sent him ^ Turford's Grounds.' 9 mo. 7. I heard very unexpectedly of the death of Richard Shackleton, of Ballitore, Ireland, who died at Mountmelick, the 27th of 8th month, after five days illness of a fever. He was, I believe, a man devoted to the cause of Truth ; often, apparently, much exercised in meetings for worship, and tendered into many- tears ; and in meetings for discipline, an ex- ample of few words, though well qualified for judgment. He seemed remarkably qualified for a share in the epistolary correspondence which the Yearly Meeting of London keeps up with others ; and frequently had a large share in compiling the general Epistle. On these occasions I have been, of late, several times united with him, and have observed great willingness in him to give up his essays to correction. His style had something in it which would bear retrenchment, and also some 24 singularities, which, though they seemed ob- noxious to criticism, were generally found to carry a meaning which could not be spared. Our last interview was, I think, the day he left London, 1792. Our conversation was about books. I read to him some verses I had written, and he recited some of his own com- posing. We parted in love and religious fellowship, more than I recollect before. I esteem his death, what is usually termed, a loss to the Society, which probably, much as the want of deeply-gifted ministers is sometimes bewailed, has still fewer of those not called to public service, who are willing to learn wisdom by becoming fools. 11 mo. 9. Went in some degree of the cross, to an evening meeting at the School : refreshed there." Being a representative in the district for choosing the clerk of the Yearly Meeting in 1794, he was nominated in the committee, and afterwards appointed by the meeting, to fill that office. On this occasion he wrote the following remarks : ^' I believe I felt, and acknowledged my t25 fear, that I was not meet for the Master's uork ; but did not deny, that T should rejoice were I to be able to serve Him in this office ; and my friends expressed an encouraging unity. I have not been carried through it with a high hand. Circumstances have con- spired to damp my spirit, and restrain my vivacity; and I am incli.ied to think this office is to some a trying one. Yet 1 believe the sackcloth was all covered by the upper gar- ments : although cast down, I hope I was not forsaken ; and an unexpected effusion of ten^ derness of mind, even to tears, in reading a short concluding minute, made in fear, occa- sioned me to feel the truth of the saying, that ' the end of a thing is better than the be- ginning.' 10 mo. 24. Dined at home ; arriving safe, after a long journey, [undertaken in conse- quence of an appointment of the Yearly Meet- ing, to visit the Meetings of Friends in Wales,] performed in much weakness, wherein I men- tally adopted as a motto — " Perplexed, but not in despair." In the year 1796, J. G. Be van removed to Stoke Nevvington. The remainder of his life was much devoted to our Society. His pen was often judiciously employed in support of its religious principles, and in other ways in its service. He felt a warm interest in its concerns, and was much and usefully engaged on its behalf, in and about London ; and occa- sionally absent from home, under appointment of the Yearly Meeting, on visits of a religious nature, in more distant parts of the nation. He manifested a lively and peculiar inte- rest, as may be seen from many of his letters, in the religious welfare of young persons. His remarks in conversation were often replete with counsel to such, conveying much instruc- tion in a few words : and, notwithstanding his humiliating views and fears respecting himself, to which the present compilation bears testi- mony, a cheerful manner, and natural vivacity, so prevailed, when he unbent in their company, that there was not any appearance of gloom calculated to induce a distaste for religion. His earnest solicitude for the welfare of this class of his fellow members, is agreeably 27 conveyed in the following lines, which are extracted from the preface to one of his pub- lications : " I have not many warmer wishes than that the young people connected with me in reli- gious profession, may grow up in it, in a way that will evince them to be Christians in deed. I would recommend them to allow themselves time to consider how often Christ is in their thoughts, as their Redeemer, Instructor, and Judge ; and how earnest they are in their en- deavours to take up his cross, when duty and inclination seem at variance. I say few things with more sincerity, than when I say, I love young people : and the more I love them, the more I regret that we have so many indica- tions that these considerations are too much out of sight ; and the more I desire that seriousness may supersede levity, — the Gospel prevail over the worldly spirit. " The worldly spirit is a very comprehensive term, and applicable to the state of persons whose modes of life appear to differ much one from another. But it is the grand business of all to experience due subjection to the power of the Cross of Christ. A saying of a minister &8 of our Society has occurred to me whilst I have been writino: : — ' When things are in their place?,' said he, ' the best things will be upper- most.' No one will dispute that heavenly things are the best things ; but if earthly things predominate in our thoughts, there seems reason to think we are yet earthly- minded and unsafe : for the words of the Saviour of men, as they are spirit, and as they are life, will always remain to be truth— ' Where the treasure is, there will the heart be also.'"* He for many years filled the station of an Elder, with acceptance to his friends. He was not un frequent in offering counsel to those v(ho, in consequence of this appointment, became the immediate objects of it, which he endeavoured faithfully to administer. His ac- quaintance with the Scriptures, the daily read- ing of which in his own family, to use his words, in a letter written in 1806, " had been a habit of nearly thirty years' standing:" his meditation upon its contents, and the perusal, in a pious disposition, of commentaries on the * Preface to the Life of the Apostle Paul, page 0, Sacred Volume, furnished him with a rich store of information. His views on passag^es of Holy Writ were often striking and new ; and both in those meetings, in which the ex- pression of them was most appropriate, and in his intercourse with his friends, he often in- structively communicated them. He had been early sensible that the labours of Ministers had been blessed to him ; and his house was open for their accommodation, and his heart alive to their sense of conflict and depression. Many can acknowledge that he was to them a counsellor and a sympathizing friend, when they apprehended themselves called to appear first in the ministry ; at the same time carefully turning them to the Lord alone for strength and direction. His remarks in our meetings for discipline were often original, and tended to arouse his friends to think for themselves, and not to entertain views on religious subjects merely because they were the opinions of others. In the exercise of his mental powers, he was in- fluenced by the love of righteousness, and by a desire that the cause of his Redeemer miiiht so be upheld and exalted among his fellow pro- fessors ; and as he had learned in the school of Christ, that those talents must be sanctified in order to become meet for the Master's use, his services in the Society were eminently valuable. But he saw that it would be inconsistent with that reference which ought constantly to be had to Him by whom these talents were in- trusted, to attempt to exert an undue influence over others ; and this sometimes led him to fear that he was in danger of seeking to esta- blish his own opinions, rather than to promote the Lord's cause. If, however, in an upright zeal, in support of what he deemed right, he at any time manifested too great a degree of earnestness, he was ready to acknowledge the same, with much religious sensibility and ten- derness of spirit. It seems due to his memory, not to pass by a circumstance which occupied much of his attention in the course of the years 1800 and 1801, when his mental faculties were in their full vigour. This remark applies to the case of a friend who had arrived as a minister, on a religious visit in this country. Her ^' disbelief of some parts of the Scriptures of the Old Testa-» 31 ment,'' and her " not being one with friends in her belief respecting various parts of the New Testament," having- first come to the know. ledge of her friends, during her travels on this side the Atlantic, excited no small uneasiness in their minds. Endeavours were used, in kind- ness, to convince her that the opinions which she had adopted were erroneous ; but, as there appeared no prospect of a change in her sen- timents, she was advised to return home. This advice not being followed, the case became generally known, and the grounds of the dis- approbation of her friends, occupied the atten- tion of the Society more publicly, particularly in and about London. On this occasion, J. G. Eevan was found as a faithful watchman at his post, and with his wonted firmness and intrepidity^, was diligent in the defence of the faith of his predecessors. In the progress of this affair, it was brought before the Yearly Meeting, and he appeared on behalf of those appointed to advocate the principles of the Society. The prospect of this service was to him awful and humbling; and he has acknowledged to one of his intimate friends, that in the morning of the day on 32 which the business was to be thus brought for- ward, after his mind had been deeply exercised before the Almighty, that he might be endued with strength rightly to discharge his trust, he felt the consoling assurance, that the Lord would uphold his own cause. The satisfactory issue of this case will be fresh in the recollection of many now living ; and it may be said that he was, on this occa- sion, rendered an instrument of signal service to the Society. In this, as well as in some other cases of a controversial nature, in which he wrote in sup- port of his religious principles, his concern was great, that whilst endeavouring to correct er- roneous statements, and to prevent the spread- ing of unsound doctrine, his own mind might be influenced by Christian love for those who entertained contrary sentiments. It was evi- dent as he advanced in years, that this virtue more and more predominated in his heart, pro- ducing, as its natural effect, a desire that it might spread and prevail among his friends. Hence, when opportunity occurred, he was earnest in enforcing its excellency, and in cau- 35 tioning others against harbouring those feelings which obstruct its growth. He was at times employed in patiently endeavouring to settle differences ; and, on one occasion of this kind, when some of his friends had expressed their belief, that his labours in the case had been attended with the Divine blessing, he feelingly acknowledged, " that neither merit nor applause belonged to him ; and that there was more pleasure in casting down the crown, than in wearing it." 3i CHAPTER II. Inciters on various subjects , written between the 7/ears 1783 and 1800. I78S. 9 mo. 8. [Written after attending the Western Yearly Meeting, at Frome.] '' I may confess that some of these opportuni- ties have been permitted to afford times of refreshment to me. I mention it, because thou wilt naturally be pleased with it ; not without recollecting, that it is easier to confess such favours, than truly to be thankful for them : such is the un worthiness of the creature. To be truly thankful, seems to include a continu- ance in that humility of mind, throuijh the want of wljich, seasons of favour are sparingly dispensed to some ; but let them not too much repine, but learn, in poverty, that disposition that fits for the possession of greater spiritual riches." J 789. 6 mo. 11. "I observe, and have long observed, thy mournful state of mind; and am not much disposed to intermeddle in matters which immediately lie between a man and his Redeemer. However, as thy condition appears truly like a wilderness, I may venture to say, negatively, Do not look back to Egypt; much less wish after it. When we cannot ffo the right way, let us keep looking, if, per- adventure, the prospect may at length open, with so much clearness, as to afford strength, were it but for one step. One step places the next within our reach ; and, in this respect, the day of small things is not to be despised." 1789. 11 mo. 23. " I was wishing, the other day, that thou mightest be endued with increasing humility. As thou keepest to thy al- D 2 S6 lotted station and duty in every respect, it will naturally engage the affection and regard of friends. And here, without care, may be an opening for the tempter to induce us to value ourselves; whereas we have nothing in any good sense, but particularly in a religious one, that we have not received. I am sure I do not accuse thee, but just tell thee what oc- curred to me, at a time when thy welfare seemed, as it often does, an object in which I feel interested." 1790. 1 mo. 21. " As to thy state of mind, I can fully believe, from some little ex- perience, that it is trying; but, also, from that experience, I am not over discouraged on thy account. If thou labourest to receive it as the allotment of Wisdom (who remains at times ' to torment with her discipline,' — Eccles. iv. 17), and in that view endeavourest at resignation, I think there is reason to hope that the flood will not overwhelm." 57 1794. 9 mo. 9. " Thy letter was quite ac- ceptable to me, as thine always have been. My heart has long been interested for the welfare, in general, of those with whom I have contracted an acquaintance in their childhood, at Clerkenwell. I am not unfrequently grati- fied with their attention to me in future life ; but it is a crown to my wishes for them, if I can see them increase in tenderness of spirit, as they ripen in age ; which I hope is, and will be thy case : for although the human mind, like the body, rather grows harder or firmer, in the course of nature, by increasing years ; yet grace keeps it still pliable and docile ; and pre- serves, even with addition, the dew of its youth. " I am glad, in my measure, when I can perceive this ; and as it sometimes comes by tiffliction and exercise, it tends to make these tolerable, if not welcome. I doubt not that thou, favourably as I know thou art circum- stanced, hast trials adapted to thy exigencies : sometimes probably thou mayst have looked at them as such as do not fall to the lot of others, thy fellow-servants ; but I hope, by the tenour of thy last letter, that thou wast endeavouring to advance in the best of lessons (in which I sometimes feel my great deficiency), content and resignation : and I think I may encourage thee to persevere, both from the advantage I have in degree gained, by the small dedication I have made ; and from the difficulties I feel, in that I have made no greater proficiency." 1795. 10 mo. 15. '' Now, respecting the whole matter viewed in a religious light, I am scarce able to say much ; although, I must confess, I do believe peaceful feelings, on good grounds, are the most desirable accompani- ments of even outward undertakings ; which, therefore, should be well examined, or rather, our own views examined concerning them. " It is good to nourish a disposition of so much resignation as can look up to that Pro- vidence which, we are sometimes favoured to believe, superintends the individual as well as the general ; beseeching, that if our designs are wrong in his sight he would frustrate them. Then, if we can step along gently, with- out condemnation and doubt, we may, with some reason, trust we are proceeding with safety ; and that our enterprise will not be the means of our losing- the little savour of good, which we have already obtained." 1796. 12 mo. 31. " If I do not alter my mind before this goes to the post, I intend to send thee some verses on Patience and the Effects of Time, which I could not get finished to my mind in time for James Phillips' Alma- nack ; so I may now have the advantage of thy criticism. The Scripture motto was an after- thought. " Behold, the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and latter rain. Be ye also patient; stablish your hearts." — James v. 7,8, Time in the fertile earth dissolves the grain. And with its waving verdure robes the plain ; Thick spreads the yellow plenty o'er the land, And gives it to the joyful reaper's hand : And Time instructs the purple vine to shoot, To twine her tendrils, and perfect her fruit ; And Winter's cold, and Summer's gentle heat, Combine to render Time's effect complete. Thus the small seed of good, which Heaven imparts For bounteous purpose to our earthly hearts, 40 Can germinate and spring in prosp'rous days, And show forth its Great Cultivator's praise ; And when Adversity's chill blasts may blow, Safe on His aid, through every storm, can grow, Till ripe, in time, it yield its glad increase— A plenteous harvest of the Saviour's peace. 1797. 8 mo. 16. " In answer to tlij ques- tion after my health, I have reason to fear the body is the best. As to children, it is well you patriarchs will allow us to think about them. For my part, I have long thouo^ht it a duty on parents, to restrain them from such practices as they think hurtful ; and probably, when begun early, and seconded bj a plain manifesta- tion of love, it is not difficult. The fear of fettering their minds by early prejudice, if suf- fered to operate to its full extent, would lead to the omission of not only all restraint, but all attempt to instil Christian principles into them •, but all this while, who can hinder the world from infusing its own leaven ? bj which means, probably, at what is termed the age of discretion, instead of being prepared to receive right principles, they are likely to wish them to be wrong. So that I think we must give them the best we have : and when we consider that a wise parent will always have it understood in his family, that the restraints which he im« poses are really ibr the benefit of the child, the child who is brought to believe this, and loves his parent, really obeys upon the most rational grounds; even, as in more mature life, a reliance on the wisdom and goodness of the Heavenly Parent, makes those inward re- straints which, we are persuaded, coincide with his will, a most reasonable duty. Thus, as I have long thought, the path of the Christ- ian may be prepared and smoothed in the education of the child. ^' We both know this is an age of scep- ticism, under the name of ' free inquiry ;' and I do not wonder, that sincere miuds are appre- hensive of their standing, amidst such a tem- pest of opposition. But what can we do, but keep striving not to let go our confidence hi the Power that can preserve us ? and, may be, it will sometimes increase so as to enable us to send forth at least one prevalent sigh to His throne : — prevalent, because arising in that faith which we feel we cannot command." 49 1798. 4 mo. 11. " I have received thy letter, and the inclosed paper, to which I can at present say but little, though the consideration of the subject has been often upon my mind; and I have had, at times, to think that the pros- pect of suffering merely, would not prevent me from fully uniting with thee in thy view of it. As to the reproaches of those w ho, not having thought it expedient to go the lengths which Friends have been led, upbraid them for not going further, these, in all cases, must be borne. For I am apt to think, that it will no more avail to the real building of the Church, to make this further stand, because of their cavils ; or from reasoning upon the practice, either of our early friends, or our present brethren in America ; than it does, to admit reasonings against testimonies, which the mind has, by a better evidence, been clearly con- vinced of. 'f The grand matter is, whether the great Head of the Church, who has planted such a genuine branch of it in this island, doth really require us to forbear compliance with this re- quisition. If any believe He hath, as to them, 1 am inclined to think, they will do well to rest 43 tlieir practice wholly on His revealed will ; and not on the kind of argument which thou hast adduced ; at least, if they have any desire to silence our own delinquent gainsayers, who are not likely to be more content for seeing them- selves the further surpassed. " The meeting for sufferings has certainly not adverted to the subject so far as to give advice. This may have been, in degree, from their not esteeming it a new case ; but, also, because it is apprehended, that right scruples must originate in the minds of individuals; and when these ripen, they tend to leaven others ; and in time, the body getting generally im- bued, can adopt them, as a body, without fear of schism. But if the body first undertake to determine what practice shall be deemed the right one, before the members have generally passed through that previous time of individual trial, which would enable them to keep their ground, there is more reason to fear either schism, or that many would go forth in the borrowed strength of meeting-advice, rather than in the purchased strength of patient ex- ercise. As to me, I feel the subject too weighty to determine much about thy essay myself. IIow I shall act I know not ; but I think 1 can yet suppose myself in either case, and still find no diminution of love for such upright friends as may act differently. — " Although thou hast been with me but in the station of a servant, and that in no high capacity, I have found, and do find, a regard for thee, and a wish for thy welfare, above what commonly arises from connexions such as what lately subsisted between us. And 1 am glad that thy conduct, so far as I have observed or known it, has not tended to impair the good opinion I had before conceived of thee at school. " To endeavour to shelter thee from hurt, and that until I should find a good place for thee, thou mightstnot be where thou mightst in any degree, and by any means, become unfit for one, were among the motives which in- duced me to take thee into my house. Now thou art gone, the same affection for thee, and the same desire that thou mayst be preserved from evil, still remain ; and I seem to have a confidence in thee, that thou wilt be watchful. 45 Watchfulness, my dear , is a word of great meaning. He who only determines to guard against those things which the generality of mankind call evil, is but watchful in part, and has little probability of attaining that happy state of freedom from sin, to which true watchfulness leads. Tender young minds, such as I hope thine is, are not always tempted with things strikingly evil. But the enemy is too vigilant to let any escape; these are tempted ; it therefore behoves them to be on the watch, in matters that appear trifling, and against the first appearance of these small matters. I do not know whether I have ever advised thee to read Hugh Turford's ' Grounds of a Holy Life ;' if I have not, I do recommend it ; and I may observe that, as he wrote for the world at large, he speaks of temptations to immoralities, and of their rise in the mind ; but the same reasoning holds good, with respect to temptations, to those called lesser things : they arise in suggestions of the mind, which may be strengthened by encouraging them, and grow weaker by turning from them. " To do the latter, is, indeed, to nip evil in the bud, and by fulfilling the celestial injunc- 46 tion, ^ Watch,' must recommend to that divine favour which can infallibly preserve from the dans^ers to which thy time of life is incident ; fit thee to fill the future allotments, be they many or few, with propriety, usefulness, and comfort, though not without the cross ; and crown the end of thy life with the animating hope of a better and an enduring one. '' A mind bent on well-doing, from motives of religion, wants no other incitement; and when one has hinted, as I have, at these motives, all others must appear inferior. But, as I hope thou lovest me, let me say how much I expect to be gratified, if 1 see thee turn out well, and hear of thy steady and friendly con- duct. The anxiety I have had about • has been ill repaid ; it may be in thy power to make up for the disappointment I have had in him. I have not, for some years, been an un- interested superintendent of the young people at Clerkenwell, in general. Some of them have attracted my particular attention and regard, and none more than thyself. Thou canst re- compense me in no way like conducting thyself so as to be added to the number of those who have the cause of Truth at heart; a number m which thou must have observed to be small. Although a boy may consider, and he tliinks rightly, that he is of small importance in so- ciety; yet the time may come when his influ- ence may increase : he should, therefore, consider the tendency of his ways, and whether, when his youthful desires are grown into the habits of a man, they w ill tend, or not, to the advancement of the good cause. Youth is generally the time of preparation ; some have indeed in manhood, and even in age, been turned from darkness to light ; but this is a favour equally uncertain as is the attaining those stages of life. This is therefore thy time for laying a good foundation against the time to come : and, Oh ! prize the privilege, that thy mind is yet, as I trust it is, preserved in a good degree of innocence ; for it is easier, much easier, to avoid, than to forsake evil.'' " When a set of men are clear in their judgment, that the present Dispensation neither wants nor admits the learning of men as a necessary part in the performance of Divine Worship ; and further believe, that a principal 48 end for which the Society was raised up, was to bear witness for the Light, and against the dark notion that fallible men were necessari/ to forward people in the way to Heaven ; it was a natural consec^uence, that men so convinced, should feel a repugnance in surrendering their property to support that which they w ished to see done away. They would also be likely to think, that a ready compliance with these unreasonable demands, did not evince to the public those principles which they had found salutary to themselves ; and which they believed to be connected with the general happiness of mankind ; namely — that Christ himself, by his Spirit in the heart, is the only needful Teacher of his people ; and that a reliance on the priest is an obstruction to a full dependence on him. So that it must be recollected, that Friends profess two things about Tithes : one is, that they are inadmissible under the Gospel ; the other, that by surrendering them, they should hide the testimony which they believe it right to make public. " I do not speak in confidence, of my own uprightness, or as being certain that I am equal to support Friends' testimony in this case 49 ao^alnst all opposers. On the contrary, I feel myself, at times, scarcely worthy to be enlisted on the side of Truth. One thino^ more, how- ever, I will notice to thee. Thou admittest that Truth leads into unity of practice; but justly observest, men may not always follow its guid" ance. This remark, so far as it relates to the present question, must, I think, either be ap- plied to our early friends ; or to the ' tithe- surrenderers ' of the past and present time. That, therefore, which I would recommend to thee, is, to consider on which side lies the greatest probability of right judgment. They appear to have been people devoted to do the Divine Will. ' Such,' it is said, ' shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God.' The world seems to have hated them, and persecuted them. They were, therefore, not under that temptation to please the world that we are, on whom it smiles, and who, without great watch- fulness, are too apt, in difficult cases, to try in the first place to make our judgment bend to the public one." 50 1800. 12 mo. 20. " I have several times thought of the subject of thy last letter; and one evening lately, I put down a few hints in reply to the two charges which thoumentionest to have lately heard against Christianity. The first of them, namely, that it has been the cause of more bloodshed and ill-will in the world, than any other passion or principle, I propose to consider in this letter; but I shall begin by denying it utterly, as a malicious falsehood. It is probable that, were I now talking with an advocate of this false position, I should be quickly reminded of the Crusades ; the wars against the Albigenses in France and Pied- mont ; and those between Protestants and Papists in Germany and other places ; to say nothing of fire, faggot, and persecution in general. And our opponent might ransack his- tory, and swell the catalogue as much as he w^as pleased ; still I would assert that the posi- tion was utterly false, and for this simple reason, (for Christianity doth not want complex ones,) that all these things are antichristian, and have arisen from the rejection, and not the adoption, of Christianity. Yes, my dear friend, they arise from that for which Christ- 51 ianity Is the only antidote, the genuine cure: they arise from human pride. " It may here be said, that if this be al- lowed as sound doctrine, we shall unchristian three-fourths of Christendom. Be it so, if it must. ' Let God be true, and every man a liar.' This reduction of the number of true Christians is only a sad comment on Christ's own prophetic words — ' Few there be that find it.' And how plain the reason ! because they will have a Christianity, without true Christ- ianity's inseparable adjunct — the Cross ; and their faith (if such it may be called) being without works, is dead, and, being dead, can- not overpower and slay those lusts from which wars naturally spring. The heart will be where the treasure is ; and if this be on earth, there will be contentions about it ; and botli these things are contrary to Christ's commands, — 'Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth.' ' If a man shall smite thee on the rio-ht cheek, turn to him the other also.' Now let common sense, assisted by common observation, declare where the treasure of most people is : on earth, no doubt, though in various ways. Some, in property; some, in honours and fame; some, e2 52 in power ; and even the poor are not wliolly exempt from the charge of having their minds ' set on things that are on earth.' Now against these very affections, these affections which, when they are disturbed by the fear of losing their object, lead men naturally to violent means, when such promise to secure it ; — against these affections, Christ cautioned his followers in the words above quoted — * Lay not up for yourselves treasures ou earth,' &c. And hii single injunction, in three words, ' Love your enemies,' is, alone, a perpetual monument of the abhorrence of his religion from wars : whilst it must be allowed, that it needs no more than a universal obedience to it, to banish war from the earth for ever, and to turn enemies into friends. It is in vain to urge against us the difficulty of this injunction to human nature, for the Christian doth not look for strength from that quarter ; and I believe that even infidels must allow, that instances are not wanting to show that this seeming im- possibility has been overcome. Indeed, seeing it lies in self-love, self-denial, neglected self- denial, is its natural solution ; so that turn which way we will, I believe we shall find in Christianity, a remedy for every moral evil. 53 And I am apt to think, the gainsayers tliem- selves know this, if they would be ingenuous enough to confess it; and that, thus rightly distinguishing that religion which was ushered in with the song of ' peace and good-will,' from the sophistications which usurp its place, they will not dare to assert that it is the cause of bloodshed and ill-will. Let us turn away from the incongruous connexion of Christ- ianity and ill-will, even in a sentence, and hear the heavenly messenger proclaiming'— 'Behold! I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people'; and let us mark the often quoted, but never trite responses — ' Glory to God in the highest; and on «arth, peace ; good-will towards men.' " Motto for the writer — * Not as having already attained.* Paul. '• 1801. 1 mo. 16. I have been in expec- tation of having a few lines from thee, to say whether my last lucubrations were acceptable, in which I am yet disappointed. Therefore, without the encouragement which thy appro- bation of my essay would have given, I shall M attempt to reply to the other subject of thj letter of 28th of 11 mo. last. " When a man has once determined to do as he pleases, nothing is likely to be more irk- some to him than contradiction, especially if he have thrown off his allegiance to ' Him that endured such contradiction' even ' of sinners against himself.' He will therefore vilify the practice of admonition, and those who adopt it; and will be very likely to say, That to desire and endeavour after the convincement or con- version of another, is all the love of pow er : — that religion is a work between a man and his Maker : — that no other has any business with it — that it is wrong, if not wicked to interfere. " Now, religion certainly is a thing be- tween a man and his Maker, but not wholly so ; for we have the second table as well as the first:—-' Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself,' as well as ' Thou shalt love God above all.' " If religion consisted in the first relation alone, then man, in all other respects a social creature, would be unsocial in that wherein stands his chief pre-eminence above the brute 55 creation. If several servants in a large, well- ordered, plentiful household, had a master who had endeared himself to them by his benevo- lence ; who, moreover, promoted their little interests, and attended to their difficulties ; whose work, though constant, was easy ; and whose wages were abundant ; such servants could scarcely refrain from often speaking to each other of their master, as of their common source of comfort. It would doubly sweeten their labour. If any one were remiss, the rest would be grieved for him, and would stir him up to amend, lest he should lose the master's favour, be degraded, or be turned away. How much more, in a spiritual sense, when the servants are once convinced that their Master's yoke is easy, his burthen light, and his wages infinite. " On this question, however, in like man- ner as on that treated of in ray last letter, the argument of the infidel is from the abuse, not from the use. The true motive of a Christian instructor is two-fold : — love to the object of his instruction ; and fear of foiling short in duty by withholding it. Without one of these, it 56 may be termed impertinent meddling, and is not likely to be profitable to either party. '' It may be added, with respect to the as- sertion that the love of power is the prevailing motive ; that the most diligent Christian in- structors have been such as, so far from having an increase of power to expect, have expected, and have received, ill treatment, persecutions, imprisonments, stripes, and death. '^ Now, if these independent people, the objectors, would permit us, in our turn, to insinuate motives for them, as they are so ready to do for us, it might not be much amiss to put them upon considering whether pride be not at the bottom of their objections. Another man's advice can do me no harm if I think it wrong ; but, unless I think myself as wise as I can be, it is possible he may tell me something which I either did not know, or to which I did not advert. The minds of men seem to be of various casts. Men vary too in experience. Communication makes the acquirements of each serviceable to the whole ; without it we should be like Selkirk on his island. '^ I will just add two reasons why, at this 57 time, Christians may be allowed to be a little communicative. One is, that the infidels are pretty busy in teaching their ne^tive system ; the other, that every view of future happiness, shewn to us in the Scriptures, is social. Let us, therefore, not omit to practice, and to re- commend, social religion and virtue, by way of a preparation for it.*' " London, 19th. — I wrote the foregoing at home, according to its date. To-day I have thine, dated 13th. As to the word malice,* put it out. I have been long willing to hope with thee, that there is yet an ignorance that is winked at; but we must, at last, where we cannot unriddle, learn to trust." * This has reference to the word " malicious," page 50, line 10. 68 CHAPTER III, Letters from the year 1800 to 1805. 1800. 7 mo. 5. ^^ I have often thought on thy case, which I believe is a very common one with well-disposed minds. I rather in- cline to think that, if during the intervals of meetings, thou endeavour to avoid all which thou clearly knowest to be wrong for thee^ and at meeting try without too much anxiety to have thy expectation of profit, comfort, and peace, gently turned, and kept, towards the great Object of worship (whom it is best not lightly to name), thou wilt, by degrees, to use a Scripture phrase, be fed with food convenient 59 for thee. It inay not always be sensible com- fort ; but, when we consider how little we deserve, it may sometimes help to reconcile us when we receive little. I do not call thy diffi- culties small. Things relating to religion are of great consequence."* 10 mo. 3. " I suppose thou mayst think I have kept thy letter a long while unanswered. It is true, I have ; but I have not all this while been unmindful of it, nor inconsiderate of what may be a proper reply. I apprehend thy tem* per may be described in fewer words than thou hast employed; fuid probably, in one little word, hot. As to our different tempers, they are very good things, under proper re- straint ; and serve, very pleasantly, to diversify society : but there is a certain quality which too many people have, called pride, which is apt to set our tempers in a ferment; especially * This letter, as well as the 2d, 4th, 5th, and 9th in this chapter, were written to a young person who was only twelve years old, when this was written; and the 6th, 7th, 13th., and 17th, were addressed to one who was not much beyond nine years of age at the date of the first. 60 that branch of it which may be named self- estimation. For when we once settle it in our minds that we are something clever, it is diffi- cult when other people do not seem to think the same, to bear it without being displeased, or what, in thy case, would be called, in a pet. So that the best way to preserve ourselves, or rather more properly, to be preserved in even- ness of temper, is to endeavour to keep down a disposition to suppose ourselves anything very extraordinary. There is also another thing which I can recommend; and that is, when we are sensible we have let our tempers rise to a blamable excess towards others, that we should take opportunities of confessing our faults to the person whom we have ill-treated ; for as this is mortifying work, if we accustom ourselves to consider it as needful after ill- behaviour, it will give us the habit of caution in our conduct. " I have mentioned pride. It subsists in our minds in more shapes than we are always aware of; and the overcoming it in all of them is much of the business of a Christian. Though I have not read it lately, I think William Penn has treated this subject well in the Tth, 8thj 61 9th, 10th, 11th, and 12tli chapters of his ^ No Cross, No Crown;* which, therefore, at thy leisure, I recommend to thy attentive perusal." ISO I. 1 mo. 24. " The means of thy studies becoming truly useful, are, f think, the accustoming of thyself to consider even tlie capacity for learning- to be a providential gift ; and a frequent endeavour to dedicate any and every acquirement to the service of the Giver. " I remember to have felt, in earlier life, something like a prayer, that my talent might be this way disposed ; and though it is not for me to say how far this petition has been granted; yet, sometimes, I cannot well avoid so far putting together some of the aspirations of my mind then, and the tender state into which it is not unfrequently introduced now, as to hope I have been hitherto preserved beyond what might have been expected in my juvenile days. ^' There is scarcely any acquirement or talent that may not, when used in reference to the cause of Truth, and in submission to its gentle leadings and secret intimations, tend to 62 promote that cause in ourselves and others : and it is probable, that while we go on ac- quirino;, we have need to be additionally earnest in spirit, that our increase may be laid on the altar. This seems the only way to make it a blessing ; for it is not alone with respect to wealth, that it may be right to re- member the exhortation of the wise man : * Honour the Lord with thy substance, and with the first fruit o^ all thy increase.' " So what was warm on my mind (and may it be so on thine), as I rode along, was, that thou mightst thus attempt to lift up thy views more and more to the Power that can bless, sanctify, and preserve thee in all thy goings out and comings in : and be assured, that thou canst never find equal advantage and equal reward, as when thou mayst have reason to think thou hast been promoting in thy sphere of action, whether limited or otherwise, the cause which, by profession, thou art seeming to espouse. '• The main matter for all of us is, to know our own minds kept right. Then, although we shall probably desire to be serviceable to others, we need not be anxious to know in 63 what way we are so. The tree being good, such will be the fruit. *' 1801. 2 mo. 18. ^' I am more desirous than able to help thee out of thy difficulties respect- ing the employment of thy time at meeting, and elsewhere also ; and I much approve thy conclusion, that thou art not too young to set about the great business of life ; which is, experiencing redemption from evil of every kind.. " I would not have thee indulge a doubt, that it is indeed right for us to endeavour to collect our thoughts, when we present our- selves for the purpose of worship ; and although thou mayst often fail of success, after some upright endeavours, yet I would encourage thee still to continue to do thy best ; and to believe that even when thou art sensible of little or no advantage, thy willing mind, and honest, though feeble struggles, are, in them- selves, an acceptable sacrifice. " I do not speak to thee as having attained, but I would also recommend thee to cherish 64 rather a calm desire, than an over anxious solicitude, for the attainment of what thou hast in view. This, none of us can command ; but remember that there is a blessing annexed to watchfulness ; so that nearly as much as one weak creature can say to another in these cases, seems to be — Persevere in simplicity; and when a train of thought comes in, that is ma- nifestly wrong for the occasion, try to turn away from it. ''As to what thou mentionedst in thy former letter, of the difficulty of stopping when one has begun to speak without thinking ; it is, to be sure, difficult and mortifying, but far from impossible. And if, when the swift inward monitor informs us that we should stop, we ac- custom ourselves to obey it, we shall, in time, acquire the habit of thinking more before we do speak. I may add, though 1 hope thou know- est it, that in all our endeavours to do right, the main thing is to look to the All-sufficient Helper. " Thou must expect doubts and difficulties if thou adopt as (1 heartily desire, dear , that thou mayst) a religious life ; but I believe thou wilt now and then be favoured to feel 66 times of encouragement J which are comparable to the brook bj the way : and He, with whom thou hast to do, knows better than thou dost, when to grant, and when to withhold it.'* 1801. 10 mo. 31. *' I consider it a privi- It^ge, in the younger parts of a family, to have good examples in the elder ones; but all will not do without we join in with what is right in ourselves. In this attempt we often fail, through various means, the natural levity of youth for one ; but then it is best that these failures should not make us despair of better success in future ; though they may well serve to keep us humble. I once lay awake a whole night with what may be called exercise ; but these two words seemed to help me a little — ' Try again.* 1802. 2 mo. 14. " I am not at all tired with thy notes, but continue to like them much. I find thou and I are tried somewhat alike; for I alpo, too often, hnve to repent of r 66 things that I have said in too much warmth of temper. I hope thou art able, at other times, to be comfortable, and to lift up thy mind in praise to thy Maker ; and in secret prayer, that He may continue to be thy Preserver. When we are thus favoured, we sometimes remember our friends, and can breathe forth good wishes for them too. So I desire I may have a part in thy remembrance, in thy best moments ; for I am far, very far, from despising the sympathy of the spirits of little children. It IS a fine thing to be such little children as the beloved disciple John addresses, in the latter part of the 13th verse of the second chapter of the first epistle. Farewell ! That thou mayst grow in that which is good, is the unfeigned wish of thy affectionate friend." 1802. 4 mo. 28. ^' I have been wishing to return thy pocket-book with something pleasing to thee, and worthy the regard which we have for each other. But, as I was riding along to-day, it occurred to me, very plea- santly, that love does not want many words to express it. If thou wilt look into the Testa- 67 raent, in one of the Epistles, I forget which, thou wilt find the Apostle speaks of being epistles written in one another's hearts. I believe thou canst understand this. Indeed, those who love (I wish to write it with re- verence) the Lord Jesus Christ, are often per- mitted to love one another for his sake. If I had written this when it occurred, I could almost have written it in tears of tenderness." 1802. 7 mo. 27. « Though I have felt this evening- very incapable of exertion of mind, and have, on that account, omitted to reply to several unanswered letters which lie before me, yet I seemed desirous of writing a few lines, to encourage thee to persevere in cherishing that tenderness, with which thou thought thyself renewedly favoured. To give way to it, is like opening the door to him that knocks : the consequence may be a sensible partaking of nourishment and communion, and must be beneficial. I do not wonder that thy anxiety about some other things should abate ; and I trust that, if thou art but closely enough f2 68 united to the Source of good, thou wilt surely be cared for, and well provided with such other things as may be useful to thee." 1802. 10 mo. 5. " As 1 conceive that thy journey will probably contribute to thy pleasure, enlarge thy ideas, and I hope no way tend to thy hurt, I am pleased that thou art out. But be watchful over thyself; and at the same time that thou art courteous and obliging to every one, do not hastily rush into intimacy with any person that may, at first sight, seem agreeable. Take, rather, time to judge maturely; and endeavour to be, from time to time, so retired in thyself, as to know whether what thou un- dertakest has the savour of peace. This I particularly recommend as to subjects of con- versation to be indulged in ; and as it may be thy lot to go visiting from house to house, in all of which there may not be an equal care to guard against the intrusion of hurtful books, as I believe there is at — , do not catch up every thing that lies about without considera- tion." 69 1802. 12 mo. 4. " The evenness of stay- ing at home, furnishes less intelligence to an absent friend than the variety of travelling. This variety, however, is, I hope, on thy part, accompanied with an experience of the same gracious help, which is alike wanted, and which comes alike to the devoted, conflicting mind, unaffected by the succession of scenes : even the mercies which are ancient, and ever new. So be it to thee, saith my soul most cordially. Very cordially, however, for it is difficult to say what is most ; and, therefore, I am often afraid of dealing in superlatives. I think to send off this to night, and am rather less vacant in mind from other things than I like to be, when writing to thee, my dear friend; but among the mass of things with which my mind is furnished, there are always, I trust, at bottom, genuine good desires for thee ; and, now, that thou mayst be preserved during the remaining part of thy journey, in fear, in humility, and in confidence in the Power that has hitherto supported. I feel something of the importance of endeavouring to meddle with thee. Receive none of my words further than they answer to Truth; and when thou 70 hast leisure and freedom, let me hear where thou art, and how it fares w ith thee." 1803. 1 mo. 17. " As I was riding along to-day upon my old horse (on whose back, by the way, I have often been allowed to have what I call precious feelings of mind,) I was ruminating on thy letter, and I found myself ready to exclaim, ' Oh ! I have great unity with this trembling of heart.' If thou recollect thy letter, thou wilt probably perceive, that I refer to what thou sayest about the prospect of the public meeting in ; or rather men- tioning that, abouf such meetings in general. May the fear continue, say I ; not forgetting, however, in its due place, the concomitant pro- mise — ' Unto this man will I look, even to him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit ; and who trembleth at ray word.' I am sure, according to my measure, (which I am sensible might be greater, if I lived more constantly near the preserving virtue of Truth,) I earnestly desire thou mayst be supported and kept near ; and, in very trying times, it may be both encouraging n iind instructive to remember, that although when Peter said, ' Although all shall be of- fended, yet will not I,' his confidence was a prelude to his temporary lapse; yet, that when he cried out in dismay upon the sea (on which with some faith, he had ventured to meet his beloved Master,) ' Lord, save me !' he was then near to unfailing protection. ^- I have just opened thy letter, to look again at the part where thou mentionest, ' pre- servation from doing harm,' as the summit of thy expectation. It is consonant with what thou toldest me in a former letter, that thou seemedst rather sent for thy own refinement than otherwise. On which I have a mind to remark, that I hope thou wilt be so steered, that, at the end of this journey (may it be so at the end of ^/ze journey) it may be said of thee — ' She hath done what she could.' " I am pleased to understand thou foundest — tender. May be he will yet live to escape the snare. Oh ! if people did but feel themselves, as even I sometimes fancy at least that I do, they would not wish one attribute of life, power, and glory, to be removed from Christ ; and would be more forward to accept 72 his salvation, than to comprehend it in their understandings. Surely, there is something e\ren in me, that desires to commit thee to His holy keepin , that thou mayst learn of Him, and serve Him through time, and be His for ever. In this feeling, though un- worthy myself, I salute thee dearly, and am thy affectionate friend." 1803. 3 mo. 5. " It is pleasant to reflect thou hast thus far got safely through ; and it strengthens the hope that thou wilt be able to fulfil the portion of suffering that remains. Well ! let all the praise be ascribed to the Master ; and as while thou art endeavouring to exalt his name, thou wilt surely be a com- fort to his faithful few, do not too much feed on their approbation. I think I have myself felt danger in it; yet I doubt not that the pleasure arising from unity expressed, as well as felt, is at times allowable. O ! how I con- tinue to desire thou mayst keep on, straight forward; without a turn, or, if it might be, ^ look, to the right or left," 73 1803. 7 mo. 17. " I have often thought of thy former note, and should have been very glad to contribute to thy comfort ; but I have myself been in apparent want of that consola- tion I sometimes feel. However, I am not alarmed for thee, nor should I have been if thou hadst not told me (as thou hast in the few lines I received to-day) that thou hadst experienced a little more encouragement. I esteem it a very precious thing to be able to turn the mind now and then, in a lively manner, towards the great Object of prayer. Let us try to be thankful for such opportunities, and be the less ready to com- plain, if we are again left awhile to feel how poor and needy we are." The tAvo following letters were written at a time when there was a great apprehension of invasion by the French. An act of parliament was passed to enforce the general arming of the inhabitants of this island; but, in consequence of the well-known scruple of Friends against 74 war, they were, by a special clause, exempted from the operation of the act. 1803. 8 mo. 3. " I have also been ap- plied to on the same accoant with thyself. It seems a difficult case. For my part, I can see yet no very clear way to come forward; that is, none that skall not seem to be like a sub- stitute for doing what we feel restrained from ; and which shall not have for its motive a fear of abiding simply as we are, till some occasion of benevolence offer, which we can seize with- out difficulty. If the troubles continue, such will probably occur. Our neighbours, in some instances, are somewhat clamorous about it, and the late signal lenity of the legislature, probably makes them not less so. ^' I have thought of the notion of providing a fund for some consistent kind of benevolence, whatever that may be, in case we, involved in a common ruin, should be unable to relieve distress, by feeling it ourselves. But, in such case, where would the fund be ? ^^ If the present state of things continue, we must expect conflict of mind, various ways. I endea^vour to be prepared for it ; and though 75 I cannot boast, I think I have now and then found something of an anchor. It is probable that support will not be lavished on us at every moment. It is enough, if we feel enough to encourage us to trust on, though we are suf- fered in general to feel our weakness, and to be beset with fears. What we ought most to be afraid of, is our own infirmity, and desire of trusting for relief to other things besides the countenance of the Master. *' The state of our Society will however also be a source of anxiety. Several of our young men have entered * ; and some others are wa- vering. But I think the greatest difficulty will not be w ith those who take such decided parts. I hope a few will truly unite together under the spirit of the gospel, and that, of such, thou mayst be one. " I have been some weeks projecting a jour- ney to Bristol, but have not been quite easy to quit my post, if such it be. Various things claim friends' attention. You will have had the clause of the Arming Act. I need not add much to tell the sense Friends here have of the * Here the writer alludes to voluntary armed associations, formed to resist the expected invasion of the enemy. 76 favour granted ; nor to enforce the consequent duty of being well affected, .or rather continu- ing to be so. O ! the innocence of the Christian spirit. It truly breathes peace to all. In some- thing of it now, I think I can bid thee fare- well, and be of good cheer." 1803. 8 mo. 4. " I partake of the anxiety which must at times pervade feeling minds on account of the peculiar situation we are in as a Society, and the relation we stand in to the country at large. Few people readily conceive the nature of a religious scruple. They speak of it as a thing, rather assumed by reason, than imposed by authority. No wonder there- fore that they think that in very trying times it should give way, and that some of them envy our Society the kindness of government. It may sometimes be well to remind such object- ors, that it would be impossible for us to be on the same terms with them, for if we had been forced to enroll, we should then not only have lost some time, and incurred some diffi- culties, but lost also our peace of mind, a thing 77 Mliich they who are settled in the opinion of the lawfulness of arms do not. " But if we pretend thus ' to instruct those that oppose themselves/ it is particularly ne- cessary thiit it should be with meekness. And I believe one of the safest coverings for the mind will be found to be a willingness to sifjfer, I can I think see a state that can stoop so low as to be secure from every blast ; but to see it, though some comfort, is one thing ; to be in it, quite another. '' I was glad at the news of the dedication of . I am sure the young men of the present day can choose nothing better for their portion than :* thou knowest how to fill up the blank ; and I think, sad as I some- times am for my own weakness, I should rejoice to see them come up in troops to His help against the mighty. " Our verdant plains have lost the fra- grance of the new-made hay; but are in the full beauty of summer. The eye is regaled ; * In this, and some other letters that are to be met with in this collection, the reader may remark a care to avoid the use of the Sacred Name This arose from a feeling of re- verence, and a fear on the part of the writer, lest he should use it too lightly, even when writing on religious subjects. 78 but the ear assailed with the report of guns far and near. Thy walks at had, I sup- pose, more sincere delight. Let us, raore and more, endeavour to remember, that the highest relish for rural scenery arises from the convic- tion of its relation to a Power that can console us for ever ; and from a humble hope that He will not forsake us. Thus, emphatically, farewell!" 1803. 12 mo. 2 3. I have, from time to time, heard of your late trial and of its issue, and have for several days thought of writing to thee ; not because I felt as if I could offer thee any consolation ; but as a debt due to our consanguinity and friendship. " I do not doubt that the late scene has been an affecting one, both to parents and sis- ters. The elder ones, probably, who are ca- pable of reflecting on the instance brought so near to them, of the truth of the Scriptural remark — ' As a flower of the field, so he flourishethj' have been proportion ably affected, if not alarmed. I am not myself overflowing 79 with anything good; but I have at least a feeble wish that the circumstance may tend to their profit. " I understand your late dear - was about eleven ; an engaging age, when the faculties are unfolding themselves apace ; and the more is perceived in a child that engages approbation and love, the more, often is felt the loss. And yet there is some consolation in hoping and believing, that vvhat we love is removed from the temptations of time.*' The following lines were written hy J, G. Bevan^ when about Jifti/ years of age. Protecting Power of Heaven, who oft hast blest, While fifty years have pass'd, in silent train — Ah ! may thy goodness ne'er be own'd in vain— With nights of ease, and undisturbed rest; If now, at length, it be thy wise behest, To mar the couch with watchfulness and pain, Let me not of thy Providence complain ; . But s:ill esteem what thou ordain'st the best. But if thy boundless mercy deign to grant That balm, that sure supply for ev'ry want, Thy blissful presence in the watchful hour (Though pain the watchful hour may prolong) ; ConsoI'd, supported by the Heav'nly Pow'r, InuTianuers praise shall form my nigiuly song. 80 1804. 9 mo. 10. " I do not know whether thou recollectest the note which I referred to, at the beginning of this letter, but thou proba- bly wilt, when I say it was thy last to me ; a note which contributed to strengthen the bond of my regard for thee, (which, I believe, I ac- knowledged slightly in words,) but to which 1 had no specific answer to give. But now I have some wish to tell thee what I at least feebly desire for thee — that thou mayst seek after resignation in seeming desertion, and be early patient in suffering the want of positive enjoyment. If the disposition, or dispensation, be it which it may, which thou describedst to me in that note, has no other effect, it seems to have had that of humiliation ; of making thee seem defective in thy own eyes ; and this is a good effect. Be therefore patient, and hope to the end. Relief comes often unexpectedly, both in time and manner. I think I am as- sured of this. It is also sweetest after close trials; and, if it be but by a temporary removal of the stony for the fleshly heart, so that we are a little sure, that we believe by the things that we have resignedly suffered, it is enough, and like a brook by the way ; the support of w hich 81 we may hope will be sufficient (if it be not our own fault) until fresh dispensations of want lead us again to that genuine hunger and thirst, which worldly food cannot assuage, and to which belongs the gracious promise, that those who have such a mark of spiritual health < shall be filled.'" 1804. 9 mo. 21. " I feel the delicacy of advising a man against what promises (but promises are not always realised) to fill his pocket; yet, I think, I, even at this time, see the infinite inferiority of that consideration, to a more humble supply of that convenience in the station which, having entered on after our best endeavour to be rightly directed, we may consider as a providential one. '^ In the progress of life, there will always be arising turns when we want a help superior to our own understanding ; and probably we shall then best be enabled with confidence to apply for it, when we can make our appeal in sincerity, and say, that in our outset we have endeavoured to take it for our guide, before G 82 all outward and lucrative considerations. Therefore, do not be afraid of giving way to the doubts thou mayst have on this occasion, provided they remain." 1804. 10 mo. SO. " Our dear was married last fourth day, the 24;th. I hope and believe the meeting was an encouraging one to her, as it was in degree to me, not wholly by means of preaching. I do not forget to wish her well on her way, shall I say, in the tribulation and patience of Jesus; remembering that she is about to enter on a new path, in which, though I hope she will be exempt from much of what is commonly called temptation, yet ihe cares of managing a family, and I suppose a general knowledge of her husband's concerns (a thing I much recommend to well-qualified wives), will probably want the addition of the dew of heaven, to make all contribute to her furtherance in the career on which, through grace, she has been made wil- ling to enter. 83 "lam often, and generally, myself much depressed in mind ; jet I seem as if I could renewedly, thouo-h feebly, salute thee in gospel affinity ; and when I speak of depressions, I desire not to be understood as at all uttering- the voice of complaint, except of myself." g2 84 CHAPTER IV. Letters zcritten in the years 1805, 1806, and 1807. 1805. 1 mo. 5. " I did not get to sleep so soon as usual, and ruminating a little on the number of my years that had passed away, I found some desire that dear and thyself might set out, and pursue your journey, so that if you reach my age, you may look back without condemnation, and forward with- out dismay. It seemed rather to do me good thus to care for you; for though I believe (and I do believe some things I am almost afraid to name) that the soul only reposes com- 85 pletely upon the love of God ; yet I think it is often allowed to partake of no despicable re- freshment, when it can rest itself for a while in feeling- love for the children. The endearment of husband and w ife I have always looked upon to be the greatest of temporal felicities; but how much is it enhanced by being also, to speak in plain Scripture-language, fellow-ser- vants of the Lord Jesus Christ. Do not be alarmed at the magnitude of such pretensions. By keeping great attainments in view, we are sometimes enabled more easily to reach the less and antecedent ones." 1805. 2 mo. 16. " xls people advance in life, they get, without great care, selfish pos- sessions ; but seeing every thing is to be pos- sessed only at the will of the Master, it seems to me truly desirable, that young persons should cultivate a willingness to have, or to be, nothing but as He wills. In this state, I do believe thou mayst cast thy care on Him for the subduing of thy souVs enemies, not without co-operation on thy part, in the way that clearly opens for thee. And, amidst all S6 thy trouble, be glad that thou art favoured with some sense of thy wants, and dread nothing so much as indiiFerency and hardness of heart. Then, I trust, thou wilt, from time to time, have an infinitely better counsellor than thy dear sister, or thy very affectionate friend." ]805. 8 mo. 28. " When thy letter reached me, which was on second day, however it might, or might not be, ' deep unto deep,' it was one poor creature to another; for I seemed that day as far from able to help any body else as well could be, except so far as sympathy might go. I know what it is to feel great conflict of mind, and can therefore, and often do, pity those who are, as it were, in inward bonds. " 1 think it is not far from thirty years since that saying of Christ, which thou men- tionest, ' My sheep know my voice' (it is, how- ever, in the third person in John x. 4) came into my mind as a kind of test ; and I feared, as thou hast done, from the same cause. '^ Thy uncertain state of mind must be a 87 great trial of both thy faith and patience ; but what can be done ? like other trials, it must have its due season, to work its due effect ; and I think thou needest not permit thyself to doubt, that if thou remainest, as thou desirest to be, purely passive (but I am sure I find it a great, a very great thing to be so), that thou wilt finally be privileged, one way or the other, possiblj/ with greater clearness, but surely with the reward of dedication. I have sometimes endeavoured to console myself with considering, that if the clouds of conflict should even be permitted to continue the whole day (and who can tell that he is fit or worthy to live in the sun-shine ?), a ray of light, at the close, would compensate for a life of suffering. And yet, neither thou nor I can say, ours has been wholly such. When we look back, we find we cannot easily count the sources of com- fort that have, from time to time, opened on our way: and, sometimes, I have endeavoured, when the future has seemed almost impenetra- bly dark and difficult, to strive at resignation, by remembering how large a portion of life has been prosperous." 88 1805. 10 mo. 3. "As to thee, I wish thee well on thy way, and that thou mayst be ena* bled to bear, with due patience, all the inward conflicts which thou must endure, if ever thou art fitted for much service in the great family, of which the Lord Jesus Christ is the holy Head. It is good to be often sensible of our deficiencies. It is good also to feel the mind turned to the ever-enduring Source of help." 1805. 11 mo. 14. " The account of the spirit of prayer which prevailed at , put me in mind of what I had not long before met with in some book, viz. —that the Gospel spirit was a spirit of supplication, according to Zechariah xii. 10. Probably the ability truly to pray, is one of the greatest gifts. It is the appendage of the Son-state ; and one of its characteristics is to cry ' Abba,' For my part, I should say but little ; but I think I can say, that an approach to the state of prayer, in simply feeling that none but a Christ can save, and turning the mind that way, is a refresh- ment." 1806. 3 mo. 11. " I am glad that thou art preserved alive, even if it be only the sense of pain that tells thee so : but this is not all ; the knowledge and clearness bought by suffer- ing, are generally worth what they cost. This knowledge may be thrown away, but if used in its place it will prove its value. I enjoy myself as much as is good for me in my closet. It is often a resting-place more ways than one. Rest I often seem to want, and, for thy comfort I may tell thee, that no rest is sweeter than that after conflict. It is not a rest of inac- tivity alone, but sometimes has a portion of the gentle exercise of gratitude. I much wish thee to persevere in the path of Christian innocence and wisdom, that humility may always spread around thee its safe protection, and that as much of the spirit of peace, prayer, and praise, as thou needest, may be thy brook by the way." 1806. 4 mo. 5. " For my part, I some- times seem to have nobody to look to ; and at 90 the same time, the sense of my own deficiency seems to prevent my looking to the Lord. Yet, in real extremity, no one else can help ; and if I can encourage thee to nothing else, I would encourage thee to look to Him with all thy heart, and to walk softly before Him. As to this prospect, I would not have thee expect an escape, merely by the want of a companion ; because, I have little doubt, that one will turn up at each place ; but seeing thou hast been favoured to attain to a good degree of willing- ness to enter on the work, if the concern opens clearly at the proper time, I would recommend thee to attend to thy present engagements, and pray to be preserved from undue anxiety about the future. " I hope thy return will be attended with peace ; though it may not with as high a sense of reward as the soul may crave. He who gives the wages, knows how to apportion the quantity ; and it is the nature of it that con- stitutes its value : so, in going along. I am afraid I shall write too much. I may add, that though I need not desire thy remembrance, because I know I have it, 1 wish to be remem- 91 bered when thou canst livingly aspire for the good of others." 1806. 6 mo. 18. "I took a solitary walk last seventh day evening, and felt myself very low in mind. I thought I could almost go on my knees in the field where 1 was, if the spirit of prayer had been sufficiently with me ; and as I walked on, I thought that probably a desire to pray was really prayer. Soon after this I thought of thee. Thou hast told me lately, that thou feelest but little, scarcely any good ; only the desire after it. Well ! praise the Lord for preserving alive the desire, and be not afraid to think, it may be the sort of hunger and thirst to which appertains the blessini 'o* 1806. 7 mo. 17. " I too have been much encumbered in my mind with various things. I sometimes comfort myself with thinking I can trace most of my perplexities to the fear of not coming up sufficiently in my place, as a Christ- ian ; and so taking them as a sort of appendage 92 to that degree of belief which I am permitted to retain, I try to hope I may rub through, though I am conscious still of the state which even the Apostle knew, not as having attained, I have often thought of my last trip. I gave it up until about four days before I set out, and then felt little doubt, or fear, or encum- brance. I was glad when I was out, and satis- fied after I came home. Now I have been weeks with my determination formed, and have been, within a few days, tried in mind lo a considerable stretch." 1806. 8 mo. 9. " I did believe it was best for me to go ; and though I had some suf- fering, owing to my own weakness of mind, I am not sorry I went, and I endeavour to keep alive a disposition ready again to undertake similar errands, on behalf of our too much deserted cause, though with the prospect of equal or greater suffering. However, I had pleasant feelings, both when the quarterly meeting closed, and after I parted from your pleasant society, in which I seemed able a little 93 to Tift up my mind, in sometliing like spiritn.il prayer to our Great Preserver (I would add, but really I do not feign when I say, I feel myself scarcely worthy to mention His name) the Lord Jesus Christ, Nevertheless, whether His name pass thy lips, or be retained in thy diffident heart, do thou, my dear child, daily endeavour to look to Him, and think it an inestimable privilege, when thy soul, though prostrate, can yet rise in living, even if but feeble, aspirations, for His favour and support. And though thou must have thy share of trials, and wilt, as thou endeavourest to hold on thy way, sometimes find inclination and duty not to coincide, let this be thy motto^ — Persevere.'* 1806. 8 mo. 21. " I expect you will have not only to mourn together at times, for the loss he [thy brother] has sustained ; but as I believe you are both desirous of being really disciples, you may be the means of encouraging each other in dedication and faithfulness: while the quietness of his little family, the recollection of the dear departed, and, may be, the approaching, lengthening, autumnal 94 evenings, may be favourable for the exercise of that kind of meditation which carries beyond earthly things. A walk by the harvest-moon may also be employed to the same purpose. A mind that does not stop at Creation, without being led by it to the Creator, often finds cause of reverence in his works ; and it is good to lay hold on every occasion that tends to awaken our love for Him, whom there is no danger of loving too much, and much of not loving enough." 1806. 10 mo. 19. " I note what thou sayst of remembering the wormwood and the gall. They are things good at times to be re- membered ; but, my dear friend, thou hast mercy to sing of as well as judgment. I do not feel much to say on these important subjects. I am sometimes almost at my wits* end ; but I try to try (if thou canst tell what I mean) to look up to the Power, without which, neither thou nor I expect we can be preserved. I wish I could commend thee and thy husband to it more fer- vently than I seem able to do ; though I seem not to doubt, that in it, in the redeeming 99 might of our Lord Jesus Christ, dwelleth sal- vation." Memorandttm, 1806. 11 mo. 4. " There are many precious passages of Holy Writ, which can only be received in their full force and beauty, by the soul that has experienced conflict ; and has believed assuredly that none but the Lord can relieve it. One of these has occurred to me this evening: ' He restoreth my soul.' Who can fully enter into the deep import of these words, but he that has learned, through trouble, to believe that all the crea- ture's power, how extensive soever its abilities or accomplishments, can never becalm one wave of the sea, in which it seems almost ready to sink. But here, when, as in Peter of old, the cry is raised, ' Save, Lord, or I perish 1' and faith is given in the Saving Power, how is the soul anchored in hope, and feels the en- livening import of the Psalmist's words, < He restoreth my soul.' This might well make the Apostle say, ' Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, for when I am weak, then am I strong.' " m 1806. 11 mo. 25. " It is indeed no small charffe to undertake the direction of the infant mind ; but then I believe there will be no small reward for those who faithfully, sedu- lously, and early, endeavour to form it for the reception of the Gospel. The Gospel, as the word imports, is a system of glad tidings ; and doubtless, the less the youthful mind is conta- minated with those things which are opposite to the gospel spirit, the gladder will its tidings be, when it unfolds its treasures, as reason ad- vances. I have no cause to blame any one but myself, for any of my failures ; yet, I think, had I always been in very early life (for I was not under my mother's eye,) with such as them- selves lived in the love, and under the power, of the Gospel, they might have restrained some propensities which have caused me much con- flict. Anger and impatience are very early discoverable in children. Love and calmness are their natural antidotes; and these may consist, if needful, with sufficient firmness; and firmness, when children see, as they soon can, that it it is used in love, tends to increase it in them ; whereas, foolish indulgence is the parent of vexation on both sides. The grand thing is, to dwell (ah ! I do not speak as having attained,) in the Gospel spirit one's self, and to feel its incalculable benefit ; and then, strong will be the motive to cherish it in the lambs under one's care, and fervent the breath- ing to its Divine Author for assistance to train up minds in which He will delight to dwell. Lines 4 to 8 of page 129, Book of Extracts, express something of the matter. [They are, ' There were of old, those who brought chil- dren to Christ, in the days of his flesh; and now the religious parent can breathe no warmer aspiration for them, than when he spiritually commends his tender offspring to the protection of his Lord.'] The whole head is fraught with matter that deserves frequent perusal and close attention. Farewell! go on; hold on; continue to love Truth above all things. Press after that state wherein a man may say (even if he slips) with the be- loved disciple, ' We have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.' The first epistle of John is a sweet book" II 98 1806. 12 mo. 13. ^^ Supper is on the table ; but the value of having the Lord for an immediate friend, joined with a desire that it may be thy case, was so much in my mind, that I am putting down and securing the otherwise probably fugacious impression. In the vicis- situdes of life, we cannot always have a friend at hand ; if we had, he may not be furnished with more oil than he wants ; but if we can but learn the way of direct application to the Source of help, we shall not find Him either wanting, or unable to help us. Oh! then, learn the lesson ; do not be dismayed at failure. Try again, and again, and again; and remember the promise, " Ye shall reap, if ye faint not.'* I assure thee, nobody has cause to repent early diligence ; — many have, early remissness ; with which, however, I do not charge thee, though I know thy fears, and I had almost said, rejoice at them." 1807. 1 mo. 1. " Dwelling, as I do, in copying them, over Sarah Stephenson's me- moirs, and observing how her mind turned on 99 all occasions towards the Lord for support ; I have again wished that thine may be more and more bent the same way. I have little doubt that it will in thy approaching trial, and if thou shouldst be favoured to get well through it, and settle again with thy dear husband and infants, round the parlour fire; let thy eye be often to Him, with breathing desire that He who knows, may supply all your wants — may exalt the low, and depress the exalted — make the rough smooth, and the crooked straight. We may talk of fainting, and feel faint too, but when we are sure there is no other help, what can be the watch- word but ' Persevere!' It seems uppermost with me just now, that thou mayst often in thy secret aspirations commend thy husband to Divine regard. Whom we pray for, we probably love the more; and though we profess not to do things when we please, we must not think ability will be always withheld for what is, in itself, good and acceptable. 1807. 1 mo. 19. " Give my sincere love to ■ I think of you with some com- II 2 100 fort, as I believe you. are both in earnest to approve yourselves servants of the best of Lords. At this time of day (almost fifty-four) I am almost afraid to say our Lord, because I feel so often how very little I can lay claim to the character of an unreservedly dedicated servant ; yet, I love to encourage others, even to outstrip me, and please myself, or am permitted to be pleased, with hoping that as I love to see His cause prosper, I surely must believe, and love Him a little ; though this has been rather a low winter with me. I have been employed in the evenings, in preparing for the press, Sarah Stephenson's memoirs — one of the indefatiga- ble and devoted. 1807. 1 mo. 20. " Looking into a parcel of old letters, for another purpose, I found one of thine ; a mournful one it was, and it excited my sympathy so much as to make it seem pleasant to me to salute thee with a small written testimonial of it. Not that I have any parti- cular thing to say, nor that I feel myself abound in good, that is, in enjoyment; but, possibly, good may be, and I believe often is, 101 at the bottom of exercises and conflicts that have an overwhelming- appearance. I have been looking for something I did not find in a bundle of George Dillwyn's letters ; but my attention was arrested by four words, which seemed to contain a good deal of encourage- ment for such as can rightly apply them — ' No Cloud, No Rain.' " Having told thee in a little space, the little that turned up, it may be best not to attempt to enlarge (if I could), much more than to say, that I wish thy preservation every way, in the various relations of life. I seem not a little persuaded of the integrity of thy desires to be what thou oughtest ; and I hope that as thou, more and more, art enabled in calmness to cast thy burthen upon the Lord, that He will sustain thee. What more should mortal wish ? ^' I want to impress thee with the know- ledge that I write fully, or, at least, much understanding the words of Paul — ' Not as having attained;' but simply as one friend- may, I hope, allowably, though in much weakr*. ness, take another by the hand." lOS 1807. S mo. 10. " After seeina: breathe her last, and settling a little, it occurs to me again to give thee a few lines, by way of farewell, on thy approaching journey. I have not much to say, but believe, as 1 was a little impressed with the importance of the closing scene, and somewhat endeavouring to settle in attention to the Power that supplies all our w^ants, I felt the value of youthful endeavours to become worthy of His notice and support; and saw a little, how desirable a thing it is to be among the number of His servants. If this should be any thing like a small cordial to thee on thy first stage, when thou art ' going forth,' as it were, ' weeping,' and strengthen thy resolution (a resolution of which I have little enough) to trust in the Lord for ever, thou art welcome to it. Never mind being low. Thou hast learned by this time it is a safe state — a soil for good to grow in, and as thou abidest in it with acquiescing patience, for the needful time, I much trust thou wilt reap the benefit." 103 1807. 3 mo. 12. <' I think the more in private thou keepest thy ears shut, the more efFectuallj, in public, thou mayst open thy mouth. O, for the full tide of Divine love, that can drown all rancour and mutual accusa- tion in its own unfathomable depths ; and would, if self-abasement took the place of pride, and the pure genuine Gospel of Christ, the Charity ' that seeketh not her own,' pre- vailed over all. I sometimes have thought we shall do but little good, unless we get clothed with a good portion of this Spirit, but its spring lies sometimes deep, and patience as well as labour is necessary to get at it. " It is time for me to notice thy welcome letter, and, probably, no topic of it is more interesting to thee than thy child. Often, I dare say, thy mind turns to this little darling ; and the tender emotions of a young mother are often felt. Nor would I have thee check them unduly, any more than indulge them unduly ; for whilst thou canst believe that thou still prefers thy Redeemer, I consider thy maternal feelings in a manner sanctified, and I view thee, and, in degree, rejoice in thee, as an object of Divine compassion and approbation. 104 O, ! I think I feel now the precious- ness of being the Lord's loving servant or handmaid, who thinks nothing so delightful as to be helped bj Him in His own business ; and I desire for thee, that thou mayst, from time to time, as he sees meet, have such renewals of attraction to Him, as may bind thee closer and closer in His covenant of love and life. So be it for you both ; for in going along with my pen, I wish thy husband to partake of any encouragement to perseverance, if any I can give." 1807. 4 mo. 21. " The weather is evi^ dently changed, and spring-like. I hope the beneficial influence will relieve thee; and if some of thy former spring-languor should in-, tervene, seeing it attended thy machine in its youth, thou needest not set it down as a mark of decay. And why bewail even decay ? The offering of acquiescence, in the decline, may be as acceptable as the offer of our strength, in the advance of our corporeal powers ; and deficient as I may be in aught besides, I think I can testify that the mind can, when so per- 105 mitted, still grasp the anchor with unimpaired, if not with increasing, vigour. Wherefore, 5 hold up thy head ; get, if thou canst, at times, above the sense of thy many infirmi- ties of every kind ; exert thy confidence, and believe thou art tenderly cared for." 1807. 6 mo. 23. " It is a week to-day since I received thy letter from Spalding. I was much refreshed when I came to that part of it which tells of the dispersion of thy doubts upon kneeling down in the meeting at . It seems to indicate that the more immediate presence of the Great Object of prayer, is not the region of distressing perplexity; and happy are those to whom is granted occasional access. However, it may suffice to tell thee, that I suspended my reading, in order to dwell awhile under the grateful sensations which it had been the means of exciting. '^ I believe thou and I both consider the permission of another interview as a desirable thing ; but if, in the ordering of Providence, it ghould ever take place, various are, probably. 106 the exercises which we must expect in this in- terval. For my part, I cannot say I love con- flict ; but I have somewhat learned to fear being at ease, and try to consider preservation in it better than total exemption. It is probable, however, there may be a time when conflicts are less necessary than at other times; and this time, possibly, has arrived with dear old John Kendall, whose company was so pleasant to thee, and from whom I have this day received an affectionate letter." 1807. 7 mo. 6. '^ Many years (in propor- tion to the shortness of human life) have elapsed since we met. In this interval we have each, I cannot doubt, passed through many trials and some conflicts. Whether we have often remembered each otlier I cannot say; but I can say that I have often remembered thee, and, when opportunity occurred, not seldom inquired after thee, *' It is now, also, some years since the dif- ferences of opinion, or of judgment, or of faith, call it which we may, occasioned the separation 107 of many from outward communication with the body. For some of those who have been thus separated, I have felt more regret than for others. I must allow this may not seem a catholic spirit, but I believe it is a natural one ; and from the infirmities of nature, I dare not say I seem near being exempt. Take me, therefore, with my weaknesses, and if it be no mark of my wisdom, receive it as one of my affection, when I say, I have felt for the separation of no one more than for thine. And now seeing- in the nature of things, which is often the order- ing of that Providence which formed the human niind, time tends to blunt the edge of contro- versy, and gives us coolly to revise what we have embraced in the fervour (may be even the honest fervour) of upholding what at the time seemed sound, I thought I inclined to put thee upon considering what thou hast gained, and what facilities thou hast acquired, which thou mightst not have had with us, and in our creed (if I may use the word), of advancing in the road to the heavenly kingdom, and of serving, in singleness of heart, as thou wentest along, that Lord whom I believe thou hast loved, and whose service is said to be perfect freedom. 108 " I am not inclined to dispute; for, though I can be sufficiently strenuous, and may be, as some think, too strenuous for what I adopt as orthodox, yet, when I sink, as it were, into myself, and feel how much easier it is to lay claim to soundness of opinion, than to attain to simple dedication of heart, I am inclined to prefer the love which melts away what seems to oppose it, to the spirit of argumentation that strives to bear it down. I desire thee, there- fore, to consider this letter as the eifect of that love, which having been excited by means of observing thee when in London, still conti- nues ; though, at the same time, I have not only no objection to make it the medium of informing thee that I wish thy complete return into the bosom of our Society ; but I should be alad, if it should even induce thee to look that way with desire. I know it is relaxed ; nevertheless, its foundation, I think, is stead- fast ; and the failure of thousands need not prevent the honest and the upright from build- ing on it, or keeping their habitations, if pri- vileged to have obtained them. *' I want to conclude, but I seem to in- crease in fervour of good desire for thee as I go 109 along. I am cautious of using expressions, yet my wishes would not be inaptly conveyed if I were to venture to say — * May Christ the Re- deemer, by his all-conquering love, draw thee to himself, and unite thee to his Church;' — with- out pretending to assert or assume that he is sufficiently united to it, and sufficiently one of His humble followers, who now with truth subscribes himself thy affectionate friend." 1807. 7 mo. 14. ^^Thou art, if I am not mistaken, much exempt from some of the more painful infirmities which sometimes attend old age. Thy decay seems to advance with gentle gradation, and, amidst the failure of the out- ward man, I trust that ' the inward man is renewed day by day.' Similar to this are the lines of a modern poet, who, though not him- self a strict, religious person, seems to have known what was good, and what was to be de- sired in the evening of the day of a Christian. ' Sinks to the grave with unperceiv'd decay. Whilst resignation gently slopes the way ; And all his prospects brightening to the last, His lieaven commences ere the world be past.* 110 " I think I speak the truth when I say, that I am at times so sensible of my unworthineSvS^ that I am almost afraid to assume the language of benediction towards my friends; but I would add on thy behalf, what has occurred to me as I have been writing-*-' May He who has been with thee all thy life long, be with thee ta the end,' according to that we read in John xiii, ' Having loved his own which were in the world, he loved them unto the end.' I remem- ber these words once occurred to me in one of my later calls on thy friend Susanna Row, of innocent memory/" 1807. 8 mo. 25. '' I think I can, satisfac- torily to myself at least, understand the state in which thou deseribest thyself to be ; and I am apt to believe it is a very suitable and pro- per one. As thou knowest the ox and the ass are adduced in Isaiah as comparisons, in some respects for men ; so I may explain one part of my notion, by observing, that a horse has generally more com given him on a jour- ney, when he is expected to exert himself, than when he is at home, doing nothing in the Ill istable. And as to the sensible enjoyment of the pouring forth of the spirit of gratitude and praise, when thou wast recapitulating the Lord's dealing's with thee during thy journey, I must drop my simile, and say, in plain English, that I esteem such seasons as great consolations ; and, as such recitals will not at all times, or when we will, produce such sen- sations, I desire more and more to be able to esteem them (and in my measure receive them) as the bounty of Him whom we profess, and sometimes endeavour, to serve. Thou ques- tionestthyself having the power of description. I see only one sign of it, and that is thy calling thy state a desert, I would rather consider it like our present land of this highly privileged island, or this county of Middlesex, from which an abundant harvest is just taken off; and the land, though still fertile, lies apparently fruit- less, but soon to receive the plough and the seed for another crop. This is neither desert nor desertion." 1807. 8 mo. 27. " This is the anniver- sary of our marriage, thirty-one years ago. 112 Many have not the privilege of continuing together so long. How desirable is it that, on retrospect, we may find we have endeavoured to be help-meets in the best sense. I do not feel powerful in that which is good ; but I seem to wish that good may more prevail in the earth, in our favoured Society, in my beloved friends, and in thee, my dear : that as thy station in life increases in importance, thy union may be closer with the Source of good." The two following letters (the latter is not, however, introduced in the order of time,) were addressed to one who is not now living, whom the writer had treated with much kindness, and in whose religious welfare he had for many years manifested a kind and friendly interest ; 1807. 8 mo. 27. " Thy long letter (though I am not partial to prolixity) did not tire me to read, nor puzzle me to understand. May be thou wilt not think me the less thy friend for saying, I am glad of thy distress ; and as I do believe there is but one right way of lis escaping from it, I heartily wish thou may^t be endued with sufficient patience until that is opened, and not seek an escape until this bap- tism of repentance prove itself indeed to be for the remission of sins. Keen sensibility of transgression on this side the grave, I esteem a mark of life ; and the proverb says, ^ where there is life there is hope;' but thou must not build much on my mere opinion, because I think with respect to others, my mind is apt to rush into hope eagerly. If thou art indeed now trembling under the powerful pleadings of the Lord, it is needless, and may be imperti- nent, for me to interfere; but I have not much to say : I chiefly incline to let thee knovv I am not insensible to thy condition, though, as to commiseration, it was probably more due, when thou thyself wast resolutely endeavour- ing to quench sensibility. Now, if indeed thou art cherishing it, I would chiefly wish that, as it were, with the pen of a diamond, might be engraven on thy heart, the indis- pensable lesson — Perseierey J 14 " I am much afraid that the same spirit of impatience and of intolerance of controul, which I think has been thy bane all thy life, is still at work, and if not curbed by something stronger than thou canst command, will prove too much for thee yet. If I under- stand thy case, it is this : — Thou hast believed it right, and that under circumstances not the most unlikely to contribute towards giving thee a right estimate of thyself — thou hast, I say, thought it right to take one step, or to seek after one means of peace ; namely, recon- ciliation and re-union with our Society. Now, I believe it will be best for thee not to be airainff at two thinsfs at once. If this first object be not obtained as soon as thy ardent mind would like, and thou canst but (Ah ! how hard I know and feel this to be) remain in true patience, it will be no fault of thine. And suppose the days of thy probation should be many, consider how many have been the days in which thou hast been (I was going to say, greedily) accumulating evil, which, possibly, nothing but some mortifying, and not transient baptism, can suffice to wash away; and I am mistaken, after so many years of acquaintance J15 with thee, if suffering, and apparent insignifi- cance, (which, may be, in one sense, is the real state of many besides thee and me,) is not more likely to be a mortifying baptism to thee, than if thou hadst a prospect of being led to the stake. " I believe the ordinary and salutary course of the discipline in honest, though ordinary hands, will always be found sufficient, through the blessing, without which nothing can prosper, to restore and reinstate the truly re- penting, humble, and patient prodigal; and if thou apply to us, or consider thyself, in any other view, I am clear it is beyond my ability to help forward the cause. " I suppose thou wilt call this too a mur- muring letter. I am sure J do not want to wound thee, and if, without any primary in- tention (for I see I can hardly help it as I go along) I should do so, thou mayst recollect, that ' faithful are the wounds of a friend;' and 1 want thee sometimes to recollect also, that the wisdom thou art to seek, if ever thou seek aright, is, among other things, said to be gentle and easy to be entreated. '' I intend to let ^ee thy letter, »§ i 2 116 1 did the last ; and, in the meantime, I am bold to say, that whether mine tends to wound or to assuag:e, I am thy friend." 1807. 9 mo. 15. " I am glad, according to my measure, which to me seems small, that thou art so far given up to follow where thou apprehendest the Lord condescends to lead; and I think I may say I have unity with thy con- cern, according to thy ability, to make known His invitation. His power, and His love, to thy fellow-creatures. I am particularly pleased with thy care not to trust to past experiences and openings, and hope thou wilt be furnished with sufficient intelligence and direction to bring thee calmly in due time to the end of thy present undertaking." 1807. 12 mo. 8. " This has been th« coldest day this winter. The thermometer has descended to 21°, and snow has been falling much of the day. I have been thinking whether is warmer than our parts, for I have hot this way seen a laurustinus nearly in full 117 blow ; whereas, six weeks ago, I admired the beauty of that shrub at — ^, I do not know whether these remarks are to thy taste; but I am rather fond of comparing the natural differences of temperature, in different situa- tions; and I think that when better things are not excluded by it, the mind is not unusefully employed in such observations. Our conversa^ tion in society generally turns on the subjects which generally occupy our thoughts ; and I have often believed, that if the conversation of Friends more frequently turned on thingSy Sind seldomer on persons^ there would be less dan- ger of slipping unawares into what pur query guards against. " I do not say this with reference to thy practice, for I never heard an ill-natured ex- pression, or a satirical remark, escape thy lips ; and, I am persuaded^ thou hast that near thee, which will continue to keep thee from tempta- tion to this wasting evil. " I received dear -'s letter to-day. 1 hope 1 shall write to him. I am pleased he accomplished his journey so much to his satis- faction, and very much so that he went also to , whither, by his brethren, he was not sent. Free-will ofl'erings are valuable. I wish. 118 according to my measure, that he may continue to cleave to the precious cause which he has embraced. I am sure helpers do not abound. It may truly be said, ^ The ways of Zion mourn.' How few are there that deeply lay these things to heart. I cannot but be per- suaded, that when the mind is on the watch, occasions will, from time to time, occur to the honest-hearted, and strength with them, to ad- vocate in some way or other, in little or in much, in public or in private, by doing, re- fraining, or suffering, (it matters little how,) — to be advocates and promoters of the cause of Truth. And this, among all the discourage- ments, which, as things are, they must meet with, ought to cheer them up, and induce them to persevere. Having got on this subject, I seem willing to go on so far as to encourage you, my dear friends, to believe and keep in mind, that the cause is worthy suffering for ; and that, at the winding up, no one will ever be likely to complain that he has suffered too much," 1807. 12 mo. SO. " The part thou ha^.i had in the little tour^ of which thou hast given 119 nie an account, is a cause of comfort. I trust such services will tend to tliy own edification, Rn well as to the good of society. Thou wilt find much, very much, to lament ; but I hope thou wilt also find what has sometimes occurred io me with pleasure ; thou wilt also generally find every where, something to unite with and to love, if it be but an innocent youth, or a solitary individual. Where we find good we must unite with it, and try to encourage it. The spirit of a child has seemed to help mine. So I would have young men not doubt that their standing firm tends to encourage their elders; and I have no doubt that younger ones still are sometimes most forcibly influenced by their example and advice; because they cannot think that such have passed the season when youthful vanities naturally cease to tempt. I long have thought that with my own youth, I have for ever lost one personal argument to induce or allure others to be serious. Do thou, therefore, dear , employ the vigour of thy days, so as that thy example shall recommend the way of Christian simplicity. It will do good as thou goest along, and be a consolation to thee if thy life be lengthened. '' With regard to thy late appointment to 120 the station of Elder, it may be supereminently said of that, as in degree it may be said of any appointment in the Church, that it ought to lead into deep consideration of our own states, in order that we may not walk inconsistently with it. I trust, as thou hast not accepted it without fear, thou wilt not, if watchful, be allowed to hold it up, as I fear some have done, to reproach," 1807. 12 mo. SO. " If thou hast nothing worse than poverty, never fear. Remember who has said, ' Blessed are the poor in spirit.* I could say much, may be, too much for me to say, on the advantages of this sanctified and sanctifying poverty; but thou knowest all these things already. So I go on to tell thee that we accomplished our journey, in most respects as I had planned it. "The wide departure of the young people in, and in the influence of, meeting, into worldly conformity, is truly lamentable, and, I doubt not, occasions many a secret sigh to the upright observer. As to me, I do not know whether I did not feel a little satisfied 121 that I was at all able and willing to suffer about it. I think my dear wife had a lively little opportunity [in the character of a minister] at the first-day meeting, and she was also able to stand forth again at the week-day meeting. These opportunities, together with that in prayer, she had in your meeting, when 1 thought she was a means of doing it good, make me hope she was not out of her place in bearing me company." " As to what appears to us an extreme of distress, and a conflict hardly to be borne, I believe it is the secret lot of many, who, nevertheless, being helped at times 'with a little help,' just contrive to keep their heads above water ; and when, in any strait we know that if it were not for our attachment to the law of the Lord, we should not be in it, then, I say, although relief seems far off, and how it may ever come we cannot devise, we may reap some consolation from the knowledge on whose account we suffer. For the inattentive, the worldly spirit, absorbed in the love of other things, escapes these straits, conflicts, and this being at the wits' end, which the humble dis- 122 ciple soinelimes gets into. And, maybe, it is a safer state for some of us, of the more active sort (in which I include myself), to dwell in conflict, than always to be let into the whj/ and the wherefore.'^ . — ^' I cannot but feel for her, and with her, so far as she feels she has any thing which she knows to be precious, and which she is afraid it will be hard for her to retain. And precious, above value, is the practice of obedi- ence in the case of any known duty. I wish thou niaNst be able, by every means that presents, to strengthen her in her well-founded fears ; and to encourage her to believe that the attempt, though arduous and requiring fortitude, is yet practicable. We sometimes, thou knowest, in looking at what is difficult, estimate the dif- ficulty only by comparing it with our own strength. We forget that every truly religious conflict is really a part of the warfare of the Lamb's army, and therefore we do not always implore, so early and so earnestly as we might, the assistance of the unconquered and uncon- querable Captain. " Let none, let not , think she 123 cannot be entitled to the privilege of acce)?Q. Whoever has a few duties impressed on the mind, has, I think, as ^ood reason to look for Divine help in performing them, as one who has more. To be faithful in the little, is the way to be made ruler over more; and as in the outward, so in the inward, people increase in strength hy exercise. O ! if we were more or less Quakers (so called) indeed, we should use our Quakerism. We should turn our minds to their centre, in as much quietness as we could, and pray, or try to pray, for support ; and sincere prayer must imply some willing- ness to co-operate with the help implored. W^hen I talk of Quakerism, I mean Christian- ity; and I sometimes think, that if those who profess it would really use it, they would soon know the value of it, and prize it too much to barter it for trifles. Now even (this I was going to say after the word access above), now even, if we feel that we are not wholly what we should be, and that we have in a greater or less degree, limited the power ; if then we feel sorrow for it, let us cherish the sorrow, and still try to recollect, that even our wills may be changed, if we desire it, by the very Power which we once desired to limit. Every one 124 knows that the froward temper of the child is bent by parental discipline ; so we have war- rant for believing that, when the mind is deeply and duly impressed with a belief that it is above all things desirable to obey the Hea- venly Parent, though in a cross to our own wills, He will permit such portions of the chastisements of His unutterable love, as will if abode under, bend the soul to Himself, and finally make it meet to enjoy Him for ever. And, for His fatherly chastisements, the quickened mind will rather pray than deprecate them. But young people, setting out in life, are too much induced to think that the way before them is a way of roses. But do thou hold on thy way, as Paul once said to Timothy or Titus, I forget which, ' In so doing thou shalt not only save thyself, but them that hear thee ;' so do thou rest assured, that thus thou wilt not only find the inestimable benefit of it thyself, but wilt be able to be a leaven to others with whom thou art connected ; having at times to rejoice in the Lord, whom, in degree, thou hast loved ; and to give Him who died for thee, the praise of His own work." 125 CHAPTER y. Letters written in the years 1808 and 1809, 1808. 2 mo. 18. « Thou must think it some comfort, if thou dost not go back, and get less earnest about the one thing needful. For my part, I not seldom fear, I do not keep my ground, particularly in the article of pa- tience. I saw my want of this and of true humility, years ago; and if I may call a sin- cere wish with reference to * every good and every perfect gift,' prayer, I prayed for an increase of each ; and once I thought I had in degree received what I asked : but well^ it is good to remember sometimes the sackcloth is 126 best underneath ; and that grumbling; does one's self no good, and does not much encou- rajje others. 1S08. 3 mo. 9. " It really has been a time of want (deserved I am willing to think) with me; yet I can, in my measure, rejoice that thou art a little able to lift up thy head in hope ; and I trust thou wilt, in due time, be permitted, livingly, to remember, and feel that there is a song- (mind, a song) of judgment as well as of mercy. Indeed, I desire more and more, to believe, that the Lord's judgments to us, in this probationary state, however they seem to arise, are sometimes some of his real mercies. I allude to the 101st Psalm — ' I will sing of mercy and of judgment, unto thee, O Lord, will I sing.' " 1808. 3 mo. 15. " and appear to me to be two choice young women, who have, in degree, chosen the better part. There are many such up and down, and it is a comfort to observe it ; bat what 1, at present, m wish is, that such may keep their eye forward, and advance in true dedication. Many of them, I cannot doubt, see the transcendent excellency of that state described in the end of the 7th verse of the 84th Psahn ; but let them instruc- tively remember that, previously, there is the ' going on from strength to strength.' Let ns examine how far this is our experience. I can almost say I long for more of our much-loved young people to stand forth in their ranks, and show themselves in their various providential allotments, zealous in the good cause. They are much to be sympathized with. There are few to take them by the hand ; but may be, even thou, inspecting thy own little experience, canst now say, that sufficient help has never been wanting for any purpose of clear duty ; and probably in proportion as thou keepest pa- tiently under the exercises which attend thee, thou wilt, in future, if thy life be prolonged, however strange they may sometimes appear, thou wilt, I say, have to acknowledge that none of them have been in vain, O, dear — ! that state appears to me very precious, that can endure conflict and abide temptation, and yet keep steadily, though in suftcriiig, on the Lord's side. V2S '^ Having mentioned the 84th Psalui, I may say that it seems to have been a difficult one for our translators, and it appears to have been particularly so at the 6th verse, which I confess I do not understand. However, I think, for I have looked at it since I wrote the foregoing, it is a portion of Scripture re- plete with instruction to the Christian tra- veller." 1808. 3 mo. 18. " I suppose by this time you have concluded as to the choice of the house; and there is nothing I so much wish you may experience in whichever you pitch upon, as an increase in dedication to the cause of Truth. I know thou thinkest lowly and dis- couragingly of thyself, and so do J, of myself, though, may be, not enough so. Well, then, in proportion as we feel the want of more of the true treasure in our earthen vessels, we may learn to estimate its worth, and should be more excited to keep our eye to the Dis- penser of it. I do not seem well to know what expressions to choose ; but what I want to remind thee of is, the advantage, the apti- tude, the preciousness of the season of youth; and thou, my dear , art yet in youth, 129 scarcely out of its bloom. How consoling*, if thy days are lengthened out, if thou mayst be permitted also to be instrumental in lead- ing thy dear infants in the way they should go, that this language may be applicable to thee, ' I remember thee, the kindness of thy youth, the love of thine espousals,' and so on, as in Jer. ii. 2. And even if a long-protracted age be not attained, who can believe that so far as our feeble efforts can contribute to make us acceptable, the ' kindness of youth ' will ever be blotted out of the ' book of remem- brance ' for those who ' follow on to know the Lord'? See Hosea, vi. 3. &c. So that the watchword is Persevere,^'' 180S. 4 mo. 15. ^' My very nature seems to rejoice in the vernal gales that are now afloat. But dear ■, we have that in ns that even vernal delights cannot satisfy, though vernal delights are doubly delightful, when felt and viewed with reference to the Author of creation, and Fountain of grace ; and I do not choose to despise the small glow of adoration which may Bometimes steal over the mind, on the view ISO of a fruit-bud : nor is, I believe, the spirit of our religion abhorrent from the indulgence of such a feeling ; since even the care taken for the lilies and the grass of the field, is held up to us as an encouragement to believe we are still cared for. And I suppose it may be with dear and with thee, as with me, that I am glad to catch any little consolation when I can." 1808. 6 mo. 10. " The fear thou hast expres- sed respecting thy new appointment, reminds nie of a manuscript, which we now have before the morning meeting. It is a kind of diary of a friend, deceased about four years ago, named Mary Waring, in which there is frequent men- tion of her fears, as to her due qualifications for being Clerk, as she was, of her quarterly meeting. I am apt to think that humble- minded young people make rather too much of a mountain of this, and some other things ; yet some portion of fear is, I believe, a good ingredient in the disposition fit to enter upon any service in the church. It tends to keep the mind and attention close to the ultimate object : which is (however we may now and 131 then, or often, forget it) the promotion of a cause more than human. As to the book or manuscript to which I have referred, I hope in due time thou wilt see it published. There is a class of readers in our Society, to which I believe it will be encouraging and delightful ; such as have made some progress in the way of Truth, and are desirous of making more ; yea, even of going on, and increasing to the end in well-doing. Mary Waring was not a minister, but a very diligent attender of a meeting which was commonly but small, and I suppose particularly on a week-day ; but seems seldom to have attended those little gatherings without some reward ; and the frequent testi- mony to the good which often arose in the little, silent, week-day meetings, has felt to me parti- cularly pleasant. And I think, though we cannot compare ourselves with those whose experien- ces we sometimes read, and cannot but feel our own great deficiency in attainments which they seem to possess, yet their good example is a kind of cordial; it seems to strengthen the things which seem ready to die in us, and I would not have us despise even the ability to rejoice that they were faithful. It may have been prompted by love to a Master whom we K 2 133 are conscious we do not ourselves serve enough. I much wish that thou and dear — , may be preserved to hold on your way wherever you are. I lament, in my measure, because I see so few advanced to that stability in which, as it were, the weight of the work may safely devolve upon their shoulders. In short, our spring seems more abundant in blossom, than our summer proves to be in fruit." 1808. 7 mo. 2, " I sometimes feel as if I should come almost to a full stop, and scarcely get forward at all in the important journey to the heavenly city, whose walls are salvation, and whose gates are praise. It now occurs to me, the import, or I should speak more mo- destly by saying, an import of these latter words, * whose gates are praise.* It seems as if a state in which, by a submission to His judg- ments, and a consequent taste of His mercy, the Lord can truly and livingly be praised, were the very preliminary of salvation. It is pleasant in degree to be enabled to offer it by the way, and we are encouraged to it by that of Psalm 1. ' Whoso offereth praise, glorifieth 133 me,' but then to turn into the world, and there ' to order the conversation aright,' so as that that too shall own Him and praise Him, there is the strait, there is seen the deep neces- sity for redeeming power and love. There we may feelingly echo back his language, ' Lord, indeed, separate from thee, we can do no- thin^.' " It was in the course of the summer of this year, whilst absent from home on a visit to friends in Scotland, by appointment of the Yearly Meeting, that the writer of these letters first became sensible of a failure of sight in his left eye, occasioned by a cataract, to which circumstance allusion is made in the following letter. It did not much affect his spirits : he seemed to think more of the trouble he should occasion to others, if he became totally blind, than of his own deprivation ; often remarking that he thought the loss of sight a less trial than that of hearing. 1808. 9 mo. 17. " I love the disposition that can freely abase itself; and as I esteem it a state generally safe, it is gratifying to oh- serve it in such as are dear to us. I have no doubt that thou hast set out well ; so have many : — but in this journey, in contemplating how few from place to place, and even in places where the advocates of Truth were once numerous, are now really accoutered for the Christian warfare, I have felt something of renewed desire that the present generation of the visited youth may be continually watchful, and stand firm ; and then I cannot but think, by degrees, they will advance to that state of usefulness in the church, which is sadly wanted. Thou knowest that I allot a large latitude to the term, usefulness in the church ; and that I am of the mind, and so art thou, that every one who is really formed into that which the Head of the church designs, whatever else he or she may be, is useful in it. Oh ! how I desire to encourage thee to persevere, and however low and prostrate it may be thy lot at times to lie, that still thy eye may be di- rected upwards. '' My poor left eye has been almost all this journey some trouble, having much lost the fa- culty of distinguishing objects. But, let us turn away from our infirmities and wants, and re- 135 collect how much is still granted to us of that Avhich renders life pleasant ; and I am apt to believe that had we less, one true ray of real divine consolation would compensate for the diflference : and in the mean time the little drawbacks on our outward comforts are gentle checks to our trusting in them." 1808. 10 mo. 23. " Thou mayst possibly incline to know how I fared in my late pro- tracted journey. I answer, Very well ; for on standing a few seconds in our parlour, on coming home, I thought there was cause for gratitude, not only for preservation from bodily injury, but from any thing that seemed to occa- sion remorse. If my endeavours might, in any degree, be dignified with the designation of serving the Lord, I have thought there is ample encouragement to attempt so to serve Him again. " I hardly recollect in what part of my travels it was that I first heard of a consider- able change for the better (I trust and believe) in dear . I think 1 did rfrjoice at it, 136 and though I now feel at this present writing, far from being replenished with good and with consolation, I do wish that the leaven which if I am rightly informed has begun to work, may continue to operate, not only to the form- ing of her into that for which holj Wisdom designs her, but that through her (as is some- times the case when one visited mind in a family stands its ground) the precious influ- ence of truth may pass to her sisters and bro- thers, and be felt as a dew to the whole family. I do not know that it is desirable to tell her this as from me. I desire to be much on my guard against activity in meddling v. ith those on whom the Master-workman's hand is turn- ing for good ; but I think I love to see it, and I had a mind to tell thee how I feel about it. I say, I think I love to see it, because I am reminded that we, who seem to have arrived at some certain degree of advancement in what we call the right way, are now and then apt to question the zeal of those who set out after us ; because if their dedication exceeds ours, we feel lessened by the comparison. This is a sort of general remark which I make to ex- plain my own cautious way of talking ; and possibly a needless one, so far as it may relate 137 to thee. This I know, that since I have been a little (ah ! how little) bound to the testimo- nies of Truth, I have seen some, if not several of my relations, bend the same way, and al- ways with gladness of heart, so far as the sense of my own wants permits me to be glad." 1808. 10 mo. 26. " I do not forget thy dear little niece. I should like to see her. Do give my love to her. How bright will be the retrospect for thee, if thou shalt be the first instrument of implanting in her mind, as well as in that of , sentiments of genuine piety; and of awakening that love to the Author of their being, which will make them dread to offend Him. Whoever duly reflects how much our Society mourns for want of baptized mem- bers, will not despise the earliest cultivation of the infant mind. No one can ensure the blessing on the endeavour as it relates to the pupil, but I think we may say, that it is scarcely sooner rightly exerted than blessed, as it relates to the tutoress." 138 1808. 12 mo. 26. " I inclined to add my mite of encouragement, if I might be so permitted, and meet thee with a few lines at Oxford. And now, what have I to give ? I want consolation myself, and seem little able to help others. I am often made to feel (not I desire, if right, to think too often) my own great want ; but through, as I trust, long-suf- fering mercy, am seldom so low as not to wish that the Lord's cause may prosper, though I seem hardly able to promote it. So I desire that thy head may still be held above the billows ; and, probably ere this, thou mayst have received as thou hast gone along, such portions of daily bread, as have satisfied thy soul for the time, if not enabled thy tongue to exult in praise. Farewell ! May the Lord be with thee, and preserve thee from all harm." 1808. 12 mo. SI. Sexenth day erening, ^'' I had allotted some other employ for this period (which, indeed, I seldom much want, when I have memory enough to recollect, and spirits enough to set about it), but the answer- 139 ing thy welcome letter of the 21st ult. seemed to turn up as a job claiming priority. Not- withstanding this, I do not seem disposed to read it over again ; and I may inform thee of the state of my only reading eye, when 1 tell thee that by this candle-light, though with my spectacles, I do not much incline to attempt a fresh perusal. But I pretty well have the sub- jects in my mind, and I will tell thee which of them gave me the greatest pleasure ; namely, that part where thou expressest thy desire that thou mayst always consider the Lord's service the principal business of thy life. Were this the concern of all, how sweetly, what we call our occupations would go forward ! I do not write thus because of abounding (unless, as I sometimes think, there may be an invisible store in what we call poverty; for instance, why should it not be as proper to say, ' When I am poor, then am I rich ;' as what Paul said, ' When I am weak, then am I strong '), not, I say, from abounding ; for, if I were to ave- rage my consolations, during the days that have elapsed, since, returning from the North I re-entered this house in peace, they would be far below most equal periods of later time, and may be this last week the lowest ; though we 140 have had here some of those who possess much, very much, of my sincere regard. Ere this, if consistent with that holy will, which works the good of us feeble creatures, sometimes by unpleasant means, I hope dear is restored to usual health. My love to him, also to his sister, whom thou seemest to want to make me believe is ailing with a mental lameness, which thy medical knowledge cannot cure. If so, and she still keeps in view the desirableness of alacrity for the great Master's errands, little as well as great, I think she is much to be pitied ; and I would have those pray for her, who can. I sometimes think it is good to believe that, as of old, so now, there is but one Physician for all sorts of ailments, whose ' I will,' attracted by sincere faith, can equally make the halt to leap, as the leper to be clean." 1809. 3 mo. 11. "I remember it once occurred to me, pretty early in my pilgrimage, that it was a pity to make the first use of the light one has, in spying out the failings of others ; or what we think such. If we rather 141 use it to descry our own, and feel how much we stand in need of help and forgiveness, we shall be slow in complaints of the degeneration of society, but shall be really contributing to improve it. It seems as if true humility was almost the only impregnable fortress ; but even that wants the Commander in Chief to be always resident, to prevent a surprise." 1809. 3 mo. 15. '^ I have reason to hope that thy attachment to the cause of Truth may have been increased by having it for so many weeks almost the sole object of thy attention. For though thy province seems to have been more in the outward way than 's, yet every service of every kind, done in integrity to the cause, contributes to one and the same end. What that end is, cannot, probably, be better expressed than the angels expressed it at the birth of the immortal Son. " I am sometimes so beset with fear as to my own standing, that I cannot promise that I shall be able to rejoice at good in any future day ; but I believe that if I am preserved in the path 142 in which I should go, I shall rejoice to see Quarterly Meeting again flourish, by an increase of members, who do prefer the pros- perity of the Christian religion to outward prosperity ; who consider, in what they under- take, the probable influence it may have on them, as to weaning from the world, or attach- ing them to it ; and who are always aware that some of their time may be better employed than in caring for that which must have an end." 1809. 3 mo. 17. " I am pleased I did not write to thee a day or two sooner, for then I should not have known how much thou hast been a fellow-sufferer with me in conflict this winter. Having been a couple of nights in town, I did not get thy last till yesterday, too late for the post. I am sure it excited emo- tions of compassion, because several of thy remarks respecting thyself, so much tally with what I have felt, and do at times feel, particu- larly that sense of a want of full resignation ; that knowledge that our dedication is not com- plete ; and, I may add, I hope, not without us some fear and humility of mind, those little seasons of calmness and encouragement, which are permitted to be the means of our entering the cloud again without utter dismay. ^' When we are thus tried and look around us, we seldom see many that we think can feel with us and for us, and who are able to ad- minister help ; and, if it were not so, we should not be so completely driven to look for it, and breathe after it, to Him who is called ' the Restorer of paths to dwell in.' " There are, I think, no two Christian qua- lifications for which, in time past, I have more truly prayed, than humility and patience. Hu- mility is a safe state ; and those troubles which pervade even that retreat from the dangerous region of self-love, patience can enable the soul to endure. Well, do thou trust on to the end of thy race ; and though thy trials may seem peculiar, be assured that, in general nature and effect, they are such as are common to man ; to a man, that is, that wants to press after the mark for the prize of our high calling, I am afraid to add, and afraid to omit — of God in Christ Jesus." 144 1809. 4 mo. 13. " Parental fondness is providential provision for the helpless- ness of infancy. How strange it is (as we who are not parents think) that seeing fond parents are always prompt to impart to their little ones, every good and pleasant thing of this life within their reach, they should not, as they themselves grow in that best of good, sub- mission to the law of the Lord, be equally forward to implant the seeds of His holy fear, and carefully to weed out in time what seems to obstruct its growth. Yet tlms we sometimes find it seems to be with religious parents, and even those whose religion has cost them some- thing. I view (according to my ability, from time to time), with emotions of genuine com- fort, the parent who is always keeping in view this only availing portion, and who, one can believe, is employing a portion of that love with which the Almighty Parent has loved him or her, in endeavouring to train a child for His service. I do not mean any particular service, for wherever the hateful and the mischievous propensities are checked, and the lovely tem- pers produced in the heart, through the belief and the love of Christ (which children are 145 sooner capable of knowing something of than people are aware) there, at least, the way of tlie Lord is prepared, and the Lord is served. Weil, my dear , as I trust His blessing has attended thee through every stage of thy life, may it richly endow thy mind in this latter and important charge; and mayst thou at all times have Him for a sure refuge in every trouble." 1809. 4 mo. 23. " Ah ! Redemption ! I am apt to think that in proportion as we feel the wants of our nature, yea even of that state of attainment which others may look at as con- siderable, we shall value it as that on which we can only depend. I feel satisfied for thee, who art favoured to be employed in the way thou art. My hope for thee is, that thou mayst go on in simplicity, and in the fear which pre- serves, not that which discourages. I some- times fear that I did not early enough learn to keep, or even to get, close enough to best direction, (I do not mean as to what is called public ministry, for that never opened to me as a duty), otherwise I should scarcely have been 146 subject to some coiitiicts which at times exer- cise me now; and, therefore, I would encou- rage those who, at an an^e which I have long^ passed, are pressing towards the mark for the prize of the high calling, to keep in the cool and quiet valley, where they may be most out of the reach of the various noises which tend to alarm, and to divert their attention. Our various tempers seem to make this not equally easy to all ; but I try to believe that He who framed us, has means for supplying every want of every kind." 1809. 9 mo. 18. " I have nearly finished my volume of ' Piety Promoted ;' and nearly all that I have written has passed the Morning Meeting. Thou mayst be sure I have not omitted Job Thomas ; but really, in consider- ing, if one may so say, the sacredness of the views which he had, I can scarcely think of throwing them before our public without fear ; considering his experience as a pearl almost loo pure and precious to be exposed. Ah ! luy dear friend, it is easy to think we could bubmit to trials which we know do not await 147 us ; but really I have sometimes thought I could abide, if I could not welcome, his pain, to be sure of his end. But, dear man, proba- bly amidst his helplessness and pain, he had his stripping times, bitterness which only his own heart knew. And as for us, for in this case, I suppose I am not a sparrow alone on the house-top, who may be at times induced to think we could bear the conflicts of others, how do we shrink from our own, though, may be, they are the very right thing for us. I shall draw to a conclusion with saying that thy last letter was very acceptable to me. Thou mayst be sure I can say 'Amen' to thy concluding good wish. Sometimes I hope the same myself, even a continuance of holy preservation, which is all I can comfortably trust to." 1809. 12 mo. 18. " I apprehend our let- ters have crossed, and I should probably have waited for something like a reply to my last, lest we should cross again, but for thy pro- posal of chronicling my name in that of thy infant. I feel pleased with it as an instance of thy attachment and good opinion ; nor is, I l2 148 dare say, my \anity, still too much alive, un- gratified. But I think this gratification is something of the kind of that which arises to many poor mortals, in the expectation of their names surviving them on marble, or in the page of history. Just at this moment, too, I feel something of the greater privilege of having the name written in the book of remem- brance, spoken of for them that fear the Lord, and speak often one to another ; with which approved exercise, I hope this our epistolary conversation is not inconsistent. " I have ruminated a little on thy late re- vision of past scenes and past mercies ; and I have doubted that I could bear the retrospect of my own steppings : surely not; — unless the Power that only availingly gives the faculty of seeing, supJ)orts in the view. Yet, I am apt sometimes, in times of dismay, to look bacK, and to hope, that as I have been permitted to get through some sore trials, and yet preserved in some degree of that sensibility which be- tokens life, I may yet be preserved, however unseen is at times the arm of support. ^' In my present proposed publication, I am most comforted with those accounts in which 149 the departing pilgrim builds all his hope on the mercy of his triumphant Captain, ascribing M to Him, and closing in humility and abase- ment of self," 1809. 12 mo. 24. " To have been merci- fully cared for, preserved, directed almost to a hair's breadth, as thou hast been, in so long a journey, truly demands the continuance of dedication, and is likely to give rise to an anxious degree of caution. But as at not any period of thy journey thou hadst any thing to trust to but the omniscient mind, and the al- mighty power of thy Lord ; so in the winding up, according to my present small measure of ability, I much desire thou mayst be strength- ened to pour forth, as it were, thy soul in secret supplication for this crowning favour : for, probably, in more views than one, the end crowns all. And if peace, thanksgiving, and the choice blessing of a humble spirit, (I hope, dear , I do not speak wholly without feeling,) are the attendants of thy return, what greater crown can the Christian soldier desire ! Much further enjoyment, though sometimes allowed, may not always be beneficial." 130 CHAPTER VI. Letters written in the years 1810 and 1811, 1810. 1 mo. 29. " I have several things which seem to claim attention , but I most incline to write a few lines to thee, chiefly because I heard again mentioned to-day, what thy nephew told me last week— that thou still con- tinuest very low, deeply feeling thy late loss of a sister, a neighbour, and a friend. I do not wonder at it ; but yet, I have been thinking, why shouldst thou be dejected ? Why should we over-much lament when a dear friend, pre- pared through suffering for peace, is trans- ferred from conflict to reward ? 1 know our 151 nature has a ready answer to some of these questions; if, therefore, they should fail to afford thee much solace, I wish thee to receive them as a token of my love, if thou canst not of my wisdom. I am sure I am not arrived at that state of equanimity, sometimes so desira- ble in prospect. I sometimes remind myself of that state which is crying, ' why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy ?' for surely did the rightful Lord reign without a competitor, peace would be more within our walls, and prosperity within our palaces. I am reminded, I say, of that trying state ; and what I desire for thee is, that thou mayst, from time to time, as may be permitted for the renewal of thy faith and strength, feel the sub- joined cordial to arise in thy heart, with life and animating power : ' Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise Him, the health of my countenance, and my God.* " 1810. 1 mo. 30. " Ready recollection is on the wane with me, and I am longer in doing things than I used to be. Thou dost not re- member me a youth, but I was reckoned a 152 forward one, in more senses than one ; so I am apt to look for something of premature decay. But I am nearly sure that my love for my friends doth not decay, especially for those humble, tender minds, who are evidencing their love to the Lord, by their dedication ; and I sometimes crave that 1 may increase in love myself to Him, without whose upholding sup- port, I unabatingly see I cannot preserve myself from falling, either on the left hand or the right. May thou, and thy dear husband, ever retain your interest, and keep your hold in Him ! so that in every subsequent baptism, conflict, or tempest, you may still have Him to recur to, as an immovable rock of confidence. '' Our much esteemed and valued friend lately gave us some alarm, by symp- toms of inflammation in the bowels; but he is now considered out of danger, and free from disease. 1 believe he is, in a good degree of uprightness, anxiously concerned for the good of his rising family, and much aware of the dangers to which they may be exposed. To human view, therefore, it seems highly desira- ble that his life should be spared ; but 1 con- clude, in wishing this, we should have respect 153 to the Providence that does all things well ; and who, it is good to believe, firmly to believe, effects His own purpose of the sanctifi- cation of His creatures by ways which their limited wisdom would not have chosen. Even a faint belief of this is something of a cordial, and a support, under trials through which the eye cannot penetrate, — shows the importance of having preserved in us a humble trust in the Lord, — and explains the cause why so many blessings are so often ascribed to it in Scrip- ture. I am not seldom much cast down, some- times a little inwardly refreshed, and now and then inclined to hope I am really able to lift up my soul in something like mental prayer, with faith, to that Power, of whose holy and merciful assistance, I seem to stand, I was going to say, and may be it would not be an abuse of the word, in infinite need." 1810. 2 mo. 20. I was pleased with one of thy remarks, and shall quote it, in order m,ore clearly to express my approbation and unity. Thou sayest, ' I do not like to see truly religious minds wear much of gloom, for then 154 I mostly suspect something of unsubdued self.' And with good reason, say I, for though this said self reigning often makes a man appear inerry; yet, when suffering, especially in pro- spect of a cross, it naturally makes him really sad ; and I assure thee that my frequent conflict and suffering tend to convince me, almost daily, that the victory is not yet complete in me. Well, if thou canst, pray ; pray fervently for the due reduction of this domestic enemy in all thy friends, where thou espiest him. " I have found that the news of our friendly occurrences do not always reach thy retreat so soon as might be thought, therefore another inducement for me to write soon was to tell thee of another event, by many thought melan- choly, but, probably, to the individual, joyous; — the escape of that diligent handmaid of the Lord, Deborah Darby. A week's increased illness succeeded to a long decline, and she laid down her building of clay the 14th instant, at her home in Colebrook-dale. She was much loved, and will be much lamented, for the work's sake, especially by tender young people, to whose hearts, it is probable, she had an access as ready as most have. 155 ^' I have not yet adverted to thy painful illness, which must have been particularly trying to thee who hast an infant to nurse, especially if thy arms were affected. I sup- pose it was one of those afflictions which for the present are not joyous, but grievous. Happ3' are they who have a resource to flee io^ when both flesh and heart fail. 1 have some- times dared to hope, almost to believe, that the sickness of those who desire to trust in God, is remembered before Him with peculiar pity; and that as they accept and use the patience which He is pleased to grant them, their ailments cannot fail of being sanctified. I would speak cautiously, for I have seldom been tried with acute disease; but, however unworthy, I know [so much] of the comfort of being at times al- lowed to turn the mind strongly (though, may be, gently,) to His name for succour, that I ivish all my dear friends to be proficients in the same recurrence of soul. This, I suppose, in well-esteemed and experienced minds, is the very strong tower spoken of in Scripture, and which I recollect, now I am writing, 1 saw sweetly spoken of in a letter of dear 's, who expressed his hope that it would, in the end, become the abiding place of those who 156 nere accustomed, during their journey, to make it their refuge." 1810. 6 mo. 9. " I held out prettj well during the yearly meeting, which ended the 1st instant ; but have been rather flagging this week, so as to move heavily along. I am inclined to think some bodily weakness has its share in the matter; but anxiety of mind, lest I should either fall short in my own allotted portion of suffering, for the sake of that great cause of universal righteousness which to our day, and in our day, is so much trampled upon ; or lest I should sink in endeavouring to bear it ; — this anxiety often seems to unfit me for various occupations in which I have to engage. However, I try at times to keep my hope of support and final preservation fixed, as far as I can fix them, upon God ; and try to be- lieve, as I do, that the nature, the depth, or the complexity of trials, cannot be any impediment to his working ; and that, indeed, if we are favoured to be preserved sound in our Christian benses, additional conflict is only an additional cause to cry mightily to Him. ^ In every thing/ not now and then in a few — ' In every tiling,' says the experienced apostle, (he who had been buffeted with the very messenger of Satan,) ' with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known.' " 1 810. 7 mo. 5. " I must at present con- tent myself with w ishing thee w ell, and re- joicing (as in my measure I do) at knowing of thy prosperity ; and that thou art preserved in the state of humble and calm dependence, in which wisdom and strength adequate to the service of each day are afforded. This is truly a cause for that humble gratitude which I am persuaded, at times, pervades and replenishes thy soul-: and as even modes of expression have their respective influences, when one sees and feels them arising from life ; so I was par- ticularly comforted with thy saying, ' O ! that I could praise,' &c. In fact, it was praise ; but the holy fear of inability, and, may be, of un- worthiness too, appearing to invest it, seemed to salt it to my perception, and to remind me of the kind of praise, wliich I also, at times, seem as if I should be glad to offer." 158 1810. 7 mo. SO. ''I think 1 may say 1 was glad you were enabled to resign your little infant with such reference to the Lord who had given him, as I think, even I (who also understand how it is, not to be always ready to say Amen to trying dispensations) am sure is a sovereign mean both of alleviating affliction, and of giving a hope that through adorable mercy, it may be sanclified, to the rendering of us more conformable to what I think is somewhere called in Scripture, the image or likeness of his death. " I have not been without my share of out- ward trial. About six weeks ago, I became suddenly, as far as I know, weak in the left knee, and have been under medical treatment almost ever since. But this seems trifling com- pared with a closer exercise, which befel me last week in the sudden seizure of my dear wife, whilst on her knees in prayer, with so great a want of recollection as to oblige her to rise. It was at Joseph Fry's. She was soon cupped, and afterwards, by degrees, received by Dr. Willan's direction much of the medical treatment usual in cases of injury from fulness 159 of blood in the head, and preternatural pres- sure on the brain. I too, my dear friend, en- deavoured to stay my mind upon the Lord, and if I can say no more, I think I may say that a murmuring thought has not found an entrance into my mind. I sometimes fear I am not thankful enough. How we do want the High Priest, or I should rather say What great need is there of Him !" 1810. 9 mo. 12. " There does not turn up any thing in my mind, to which I seem just now more inclined than to answer thy letter. I have been as usual gratified ; and I felt an emotion particularly grateful on thy telling me thou hadst remembered me in thy retire- ment. The good account of thou mayst be sure is pleasing ; so was thy account of the Fifth-day meeting ; and I am not sorry for thy excursion on the following day. The wilder view of nature, to be seen in some parts even of South Wales, and especially the cata- racts, are novelties to us, children of the plain ; and I believe thy mind may have been suitably unbent by beholding them, not also without 160 thoughts that, pursued to their length, might lead to the sense, if not the words, of Cowper's well known lines : * His are the mountains, and the vallies his, And the resplendent rivers : his t' enjoy. With a propriety that none can feel. But who, with filial confidence inspired. Can lift to Heaven an unpresumptuous eye. And smiling say, * My Father made them all.' * 1810. 9 mo. 20. " I know it sometimes seems a very desirable thing to be favoured to return from long journies in peace ; but T would not have thee over anxious for the mor- row, even in this respect ; but try to keep thy mind as trusting and dependent as thou canst, as thou goest along, from day to day ; and then as I am apt to think thou hast not done wrong in going out, the state of mind that is best for thee may be allowed thee on thy re- turn. I pity thy trouble at , but am willing to believe it will not be allowed (as thou usest it, and other similar failures, as in- citements to closer application of heart to the ♦ Cowper's Poems. ' The Winter 'mar u'tng JValk^' line 712—747. 161 Power which alone can keep thee simply in thy allotted path) to tend to thy ultimate pre- judice : and I still hope thoU raayst return from this journey instructed in his fear. Though thou hast been favoured to be taught much, and that even immediately, know assu- redly that if thy life be prolonged, and thou art permitted to be truly a servant (admirable privilege ! better, infinitely better, than worldly empire!) thou hast still much to learn; much probably which nothing but heartfelt experi- ence can be the means of teaching." 1810. 9 mo. 27. ^' As to mind I feel va- rious, not often as it were sailing in smooth v/ater, with fair wind and tide. I am how- ever willing and even desirous to own, that on the trying occasion of my dear companion's seizure, I was allowed to feel in good degree capable to exclude the least murmuring thought : indeed not a shadow of one was sug- gested. Thy few remarks were grateful, par- ticularly those which pointed to Christ, as the sure helper of those who love Him ; for I trust and believe there are yet times when with thee, 162 my dear ancient friend, I love to hear and see praise ascribed to Him, as the only and the unfailing Redeemer and Saviour." 1810. 9 mo. 28. " From thy letters as well as from some other information, it appears that suffers from what may be called morbid dejection, and that loss of rest is or has been, an aggravating concomitant. It is a trying dispensation, harder to bear I believe than most ailments, and harder to be helped by friendly counsel ; at least I have no specific to announce. One may talk of patience, and talk of resignation ; but the soul is so much more apt to feel its own bitterness, than to receive the sage reasoning of those whom it considers rather as theoretical declaimers, that we often attempt to exercise sympathy in vain. And yet I think it is good to recollect, at times, (and such times are now and then al- lowed,) that there can be no kind of distress to which our feeble frames are liable, of which the Holy Former of these frames is not aware, and which he cannot alleviate. And even when wfr are convinced of this, and consequently try to 163 look to Him through all, in our distresses, and seem either to look in vain, or can scarcely look at all, still it is «;ood to try to persevere ; remem- bering that probably by more means than one, and on more occasions than one, we may be brought to say feelingly, * To vrhom shall we go ? ' These are somewhat like approaches to a single reliance, which, let us hope, will not always be disappointed." 1810. 10 mo. 1. " We had of course heard of the sudden removal of Richard Jacob. I never knew him till last year, and I then thought him a tender-spirited friend. I find one of his last acts was public prayer. If the true Abba-crying spirit is granted to a man, he seems to me as if he were then just fitted to continue a song of praise for ever. I have also seen a letter from R. J's son, by which it appears that the day before, after the usual opportunity of reading a chapter, he had been engaged in fervent supplication with, and for his family. So, to our apprehensions, his sun set in brightness," m2 164 1810. 12 mo. 10. " My very dear M. B. is very poorly. I am pretty full loaded, and much under par; but not so far gone as to forget I ought to say, ' Thy will be done,' let me be as low as I may. I tried on rising this morning to be glad in believing that there is an Eye that sees all ; to it belongs a Power that can help all. Trust thou only to that»" 1811. 3 mo. 21. '• Yesterday, on my going to Wm. Allen's, after meeting, I found and read thy brotherly and sympathizing let- ter; and if I were to adopt thy expression, and say that it was the means of tendering my spirit before Him whom I often fear to name, I should not possibly say much amiss. I have indeed in various respects had a trying allot- ment since last Yearly Meeting ; but though I am aware of great want of true, humble re- signation in myself, I may say that I have en- deavoured after it, in those things which being manifestly brought on me, not by my own choice, are evidently permitted in the course 165 of that Providence on which I sometimes desjire to rely. " Though not a father myself, but yet pos- sessing an endeared wife, I can feel for thy dis- appointed expectations by the decease of thy daughter, by thinking what a chasm I should feel, were my dear partner removed from me. But as we cannot foresee the future, we had best not anticipate evil in it. I conceive He, whom we sometimes venture to call our Lord, did not speak in vain, or speak only for what are commonly called worldly men, when he said, ' Be not anxious for the morrow,' for so I am clear the words should be translated. I lately received a little encouragement from these words to trust on ; but I am often ready to fear, or rather convinced, that by my own strength, I shall never get safely to the desired haven to which thou hast alluded, and that I want a Redeemer, who is, as saith the writer to the Hebrews, ' able to save to the uttermost/ This sense of want may have made me desi- rous that His name should remain great in our Society ; and corresponding feelings in thy mind have probably occasioned the sensations which thou hast described in the beginning of 166 thy letter ; and which I believe accordiug to my growth are reciprocal." 1811. 4 mo. 18. " I entirely acquit thee of any neglect in not having sooner written to me. I have heard of thy arrival on the Isle of Man; from which probably, if not already escaped, thou art now retreating with a peace- ful mind. And as we are told generally, that salvation comes not ' by works of righteous- ness which we have done, but of his mercy,' so in each particular service, it is profitable, and I verily believe pleasant to feel that, even in doing the duty, the servant is unprofitable. Hence purer thanksgivings arise to the Lord, and purer joy must abound in the deeply- humbled mind of the creature. Therefore, my dear friend, accept the sense of unworthi- ness as an inestimable gift, qualifying thee to look back with safety on thy past labours, and tending to fit thee for such, as in a wisdom which thou canst not fathom, may remain for thee to undergo in the cause which is nearest to thy heart. I am afraid to lay claim to an interest in Him, though I think I desire it for J 67 others, or I should say, as it turns up in wri- ting the foregoing, the cause of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. " I have been, probably for want of full resignation, at times a man of conflict from my youth, and much so of later years. It would seem desirable, at least to that part which loves ease, now this trial of my wife's illness has been allowed to befal me, to experience some relief from more generally felt exercises; but this is not always the case ; and I have often the fears of my own heart assailing when I should like to have my atten^ tion at liberty to sooth and assist her; but may be this is what is best. I think I do not complain, and sometimes am permitted to hope that succour may be near when not perceived ; and that 1 may venture in abasement of self, and in consciousness of my own weakness, to lay hold on the comfort contained in the re- newed application of these words, ' I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.' " 1811. 5 mo. 16. " I have hardly known which to advert to first, thy troubles or my 168 own. I do not know which may be the greater; I think mine : but if we can but believe that both are under the most wise allotment, and blessed superintendence of Him who does all things well, and in whom 1 think I desire increasingly to believe and confide, as I have no doubt thou dost, they may in lime lose the name of trouble, and be remembered only by that of preparations for praise. Yet now, certainly for a season, I am at times in heavi- ness, and that I think through manifold temp- tations, as well as by means of the continued affliction of my dear wife. I have a mind, as I write, to add, that I have nothing to com- plain of as touching the dealings of infinite Wisdom. There is no room for any murmur, and I think I do desire to be preserved in pa- tience. Patience and humility are two articles of the Christianas dwelling-place, for which I have long and often breathed a sincere peti- tion. I trust I have received replenishment from time to time ; but I feel 1 still want more of each." 1811. 7 mo. 6. " I neither desire nor dare to deny, that a hope sometimes attends me that J 69 I am a little helped amidst much, very much, fear and mental suffering ; but I am afi-aid of trusting' to the views of my various friends who think they see ever so clearly, that there are good things in store for me, believing it a surer way to aim at the state in which the Psalmist said what thou mayst read in Psalm Ixii. 5. " First-day, 7th. We have very pleasant accounts from dear . He has had, as thou canst believe, various plunges ; but I have reason to think that underneath have been the everlasting arms of help in the time of need. He has met with very civil treatment, and has given away many books which appeared to be gratefully received. In various places the peo- ple were very much strangers to our principles, and in some hardly knew there was such a peo- ple. He describes those of Arran to be far behind us in luxury, and displays their sim- plicity of manners, piety, and knowledge of Scripture, so as to make one almost wish to dwell among them : but our lot is cast among a far different set. But let us not distrust Him, whom we desire to believe, and sometimes ven- ture to call our holy Captain and Redeemer. Increased, and increasing dangers are no bar- 170 riers to His power, and I think they ought to be, when felt, only increasing incitements to cry mightily to Him. Thou mayst see I can talk. Well for me if I know what I talk about. In the mean time, I seem to have this source of hope; that I believe I have learned the doc- trine in the school of trouble ; (and He was, as saith Isaiah, a man of sorrows) and that I am yet glad in remembering not only His power, but His omniscience ; and thinking that abject as I am, He sees me and knows my thoughts afar off." 1811. 7 mo. 25. " If I am at all pursuing the path of Christian rectitude, I hope I do not slacken, or feel desirous to forsake it, for the clouds which now hang over my path. And I feel, (I was thinking to say I humbly feel,) at times, something like light upon it; some cheering, if but transient, gleam; which occa- sions an increasing earnestness of application or supplication to the only source of consola- tion. But I cannot say much to purpose ; only this I would say, that I sometimes had rather retain my sorrows, and my little comforts, than 171 exchange them for insensibility, and be like those of whom it is said in Psalm Iv. 19, ' Be- cause they have no changes, therefore they fear not God.' *' I would not have thee dismayed at the prospect of having now to look down upon all thy relations. Only pray to be enabled to set them a good example ; and then, depend upon it, elderly people will find as much support from younger ones, as the latter have done from them. It is the order of nature and of Providence ; and, I am clear, it is especially sq» in the Truth." Memorandum. 1811. 8 mo. 22. '' May be there are few states so desirable for the Christian, as that in which every thing adverse drives the soul to [the Lord] for help ; and every thing prosperous leads it to Him in thanksgiving and praise," 1811. 9 mo. 2. " Oh that I were more con- stantly attentive to the law, and more united J 72 to the spirit, of Him who discouraged anxiety for the future. I thought I was a little cheer- ed, by means of our forenoon meeting yester- day ; but this has been for the most part, a day of depression of mind ; and I see no hope of permanent help, but in the redeeming mercy of the Lord, to an unworthy (may I say) ser- vant. I wish that thou raayst continue to look stedfastly to Him. Discouragements, grievous discouragements, will occur. ' In the world ye shall have trouble :' (will hare would be nearer to «|»Te) but one may sometimes be al- lowed to rally by saying with Peter, ' Lord to whom shall we go?' " ISIL 9 mo. 10. " I really seem to my- self to want comfort; not on account of the manifest outward trials, which appear to fall to my lot, in the course of that providential w isdom which I desire to be enabled to adore ; but from the often renewed sense that I am deficient in full resignation and dedication of heart. I can yet say with the Psalmist, ' Mine enemies are lively, and they are strong.' My passions are not wholly subdued, therefore, I 173 more than fear, they actuate "otherwise than according to the will of Him who saw it meet that man, His creature, should have passions. Is it that I do not yet sufficiently believe that without a Redeemer I can do nothing ? I thought, long ago, I could set my seal to this truth. I hope this exposure of my cogitations is not improperly putting that sack- cloth without, which should be worn within ; but as thou seemest so satisfied in thy belief concerning me, I had a mind to let thee know more fully than I fear thou dost, on what kind of creature thy hopes so securely rest ; surely, on a conflicting one. I sometimes wish, may be it is a vain wish ; for if this be what thou termest suffering, with a suffering Redeemer, relief in due time must come ; I say, I some- times wish, when ' pressed,' as it were, in the Apostle's language, ' beyond measure,' I wish for relief; but 1 have not yet wished for a relief which will make me forget my total de- pendence on Him, to whose holy assertion I have alluded — ' Without Me ye can do no- thing.' " J 74 1811. 10 mo. 1. " Thou leftest me under par, and I have generally remained so, only en seventh-day morning the clouds cleared away, and something like thankfulness broke forth, mentally I mean, and in that little lighter interval, I thought I could write to thee, and eticourage thee to hold on thy way, and id strive to keep near to the Good Shepherd, on whom, had I more early and simply and atten- tively waited, I might possibly have been spared some of the conflicts which have been mine in advancing and advanced life. But ' to whom shall we go ?' I began this in a feeling of deep depression ; but I hope I would not yet wish to exchange the tribulations atten- dant on the Gospel, would, I might say, unreproved and unreprovable, the Gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, for the peace which the world for a time gives, or seems to give. I do not wonder that the wor- thies whose exits I undertook to record, cried out so much for patience. Tribulation, we read, worketh patience. It probably does this by showing its value ; and by exciting the cry which, when arising from sincere hearts, does not arise in vain : — but what a great w ord is 175 ^ sincerity.' In considering the promises of the Gospel, and many of those congenial ones with which the Psalms abound, I am sometimes afraid to lay hold of them, lest the temper of my grasp should not l)e pure enough to hold them fast. It was very kind to write so soon. Steady determined kindness is no mean ac- quirement. If we could cultivate it with all, we should approach the confines of the state William Savery spoke of [when every coun- try shall be our country ; and every man, our brother] * ; and if all were reciprocally kind to us, and that in the holy, heart-preserving fear, we should be reminded of that still better country, the native region of eternal love. '' I called on first-day on purpose to see the children. I desire thou mayst be enabled to retain all these dear lambs in innocence ; and in due season, that innocence may be ripened into piety, holiness, and, if I finish my climax, I must say, the habitual fear "of the Lord ; though that is called ' a beginning;' which made me add, hahituaL^^ * See " Piety Promoted," part x. page 191. 176 1811. 11 mo. 5. " O! for patience to abide the due portion of that suifering which tends to destroy the part which is unfit for the heavenly kingdom ; and is a portion of the tribulation out of which those finally come who are allowed, (and who may not be?) to wash their robes, and make them white, in the blood of the Lamb. Thus ventures to hint, not as a thing new to thee, but just as it comes up, as the natural language of, I hope. Christian affection, a poor, very poor, yet sympathizing, brother, who still wishes to say to thee, ' Hold on thy way,' 9. " I was pleased, according to my mea- sure, to hear the assertion of thy persuasion, that there are divers of the youth under thy notice, who show signs of preparation to be useful in the Christian cause. When I can at all hope that I am a servant in this great household, I am pleased with few things so much. Several such are also scattered here- about. How have I wished, in time past, that more of our young men could be brought into the school, where they would be trained for judges and for counsellors. Self, probably, at- 177 tends even this wish; for now, in declining life, I feel willing to accept the assistance of my juniors ; and I have long held it to be as natural (and there is a nature in religious, yea, in heavenly things,) for the children to assist the aged, as for the fathers to nurse the children.'* 1811. 12 mo. 14. " It certainly is through the effect of a mental conflict, beyond most with which I have been hitherto tried, that I have omitted to reply to thy last very kind letter. Thy second letter has tendered my heart, just affected the same way a little be- fore, and prompts me no longer lo delay satis- fying thy kind inquiries. I think thy fears for me may not be ill-founded ; and I think I do sometimes exert the little strength I have, to keep myself from sinking; but, alas! (or why should I say ^ alas I' it is a knowledge we can- not have too much of,) I know I cannot, with- out the Holy Aid to which thou hast so well adverted. This aid has not of late been much in sight, and then the poor mind is a prey to N 178 dibtiessing cogitations. But I try, I think, as much as I can, to keep my sackcloth out of sight ; and to hope that He who permits the trial will, in due time, remove it; and, in the mean time, support and preserve me, on the right hand and on the left.'* 1811. 12 mo. 16. " I am pleased with thy account of my unknown friend. I still retain a desire that the public advocates of the cause may grow in it. I esteem a true call to the njinistry an unspeakable favour, which none need be ashamed of; and, though feeling very unworthy, would wish again to salute her and her brother, as one not careless of their well- being. I think if this be a transcript of my mind, it must convey some portion of love ; for I humbly hope I have yet, in no trifling degree, that mark of the Christian, and that it will not be taken from me ; but, as I know its nature is to spread, increase, and propagate, may in due time leaven me further into some true fellowship with that to which it is good to look as the enduring substance. Receive my salutation, though in weakness; and when J 79 thou canst feel the sweet and gentle spirit of supplication poured over thy mind, mayst tliou be at liberty to breathe forth an aspiration for thy, I may say without violence of terms, thy old and feeble friend." 1811. 12 mo. 2 1 . " Very dear ancient friend, 1 took out thy last letter, and attempted to read it, but — I was going to say, alas ! yet why should we say alas ! of that which comes not by our own fault, but by the permission of that Provi- dence who formed the body as he saw best, and liable to disease ? — but I could not for want of sight ; my best eye now fast becoming dim with the disease called a Cataract. I resigned thy letter into the hand of a kind young woman, who finished the reading for me ; and tried to remember, that though most of my occupation of late time has been by means of my sight, I ought not to murmur : and I also hope that with the good blessing on an operation which I am recommended to undergo, I may be allowed some restoration of sight. In the mean time, thy letter awakened so much pleasant emotion in my mind, that I concluded I would set about x\ 2 180 attemptinir to reply to it; which I can jet do with my own pen. " I have not very pleasant news to give thee of my dear wife. Her faculties are so much declined since the yearly meeting, that her understanding and counsel are much lost to me, and that at a time when I do not seem to abound in that inward support which is more than a balance for every trouble. On the whole, therefore, it may be said, that we are in affliction. May it eventually be sanctified to us, though unworthy ! And how can this be, unless by Redeeming Love : a power, which the more we feel the want of, the more we shall probably esteem precious ? As to my dear wife, I can perceive that a trust in her God lies un- derneath the cloud which envelops her facul- ties, and I believe that she might for herself adopt the words of the Psalmist : ' All this is come upon us, yet have we not forgotten thee.' Psalm xliv. 17." 181 The following reflections, left unfinished, >vere, from the date attached to them, written in the year 1811. *' Though the writer of this little collection of Scripture texts has passed among- his friends for a man of some intrepidity, in what we rightly name the cause of Truth; yet numerous have been the occasions in which he has been left to feel his own utter incapacity to walk steadily on his course ; to avoid turning aside from the path, to the right hand or the left. Since he endeavoured to enlist in the Christian warfare,, he has been a man of conflict. Sometimes the conflict has seemed almost overwhelming ; at others, relief has been felt which has excited gratitude mixed with fear ; and he has been now and then enabled to hope on, by intervals of ease, amidst painful seasons of dismay. " In a late occurrence of this latter kind, it struck him that it would be pleasant to himself to commit to writing, and possibly helpful to some disconsolate traveller who may happen to cast an eye over what may be here penned, if he noted down a few of such texts of Holy Writ, as have, from time to time, been allowed to be means of encouragement to him to hold 182 on his way. And although he most readily allows that nothing: but the fresh touches of the Lord's love and goodness can supply the daily wants of the soul, he writes not without a hope, a wish, at least, if consistent with best wisdom, that the recollection may be allowed to occasion a little revival of hope to himself. And, indeed, some of these passages derive their comfort from the excitement of hope; for, in some cases, a blessing appertains to those who hope, as well as to those who arrive at the more firm stay, those w^ho trust in the Lord. ' Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord.'—- Psalm xxxi. 24. ' Behold the eye of the Lord is upon them that fear Him : upon them that hope in his mercy,' and for what gracious purpose, the Psalmist instantly subjoins, ^ to deliver their soul from death, and to keep them alive in famine.' — Psalm xxxiii. 18, 19. **And again, ' The Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear Him, in those that hope in His mercy.' — Psalm cxlvii. 11. *' The Psalms indeed teem with consolation 183 to the afflicted; and seeing ' whatsoever things were written aforetime, were written for our learning, that we through patience and com- fort of the Scriptures might have hope,' I would recommend them to the frequent perusal of the beloved youth ; but with secret prayer to the Giver of every good gift, that He would be pleased to make it conducive to an increase of hope and trusf ; and, in his own time, of complete assurance in the Redemption of Christ. ^*In great straits, it is natural, seeing every soul knows its own bitterness, to believe its trials peculiar. Were they not beyond the relief of human assistance, they would not answer the purpose of impelling the tried mind to its Maker alone for help. But hear the great Apostle — ' There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man ; but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation, also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.' " I write in fear, lest I should speak of a superficial experience ; but I think I have found comfort and cause of hope, in deep affliction, 184 by the recurrence of this passage of the evan- gelical prophet; — and J have also been per- mitted to hear it livingly declared by a modern Barnabas, in a meeting — ' Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of his servant , that walketh in darkness, and hath no light ? Let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God.' Ah ! hath my mind rejoined, Let him ; even him." Verses written hy J. G, Bevan, in his pocket' book, about the year ISll, How sweet is the prospect of rest, When the trials of time are no more : Oh ! the peace that must flow in the breast, When we land on the heavenly shore. And e'en on the tempest-toss'd way, Secure in His powerful word. Whom the winds and the billows obey. Our praise may ascend to the Lord. Then fear not, ye sorrowing throng. But rejoice in your deep tribulation ; for the Lord is your strength and your song; And the Lord will become your salvation. 185 CHAPTER VIL Letters written from 1812 to 1814, mlh some account of the last illness and death of J, G. Bevan. In a letter, dated the SOth of 7 mo. 1810,* an allusion, bespeaking the pious feelings of the writer's mind, is made to a serious attack of illness which had awaited his beloved and affectionate wife. The distress occasioned by watching the gradual progress of this disorder very much undermined his own strength. His sight was now become so impaired as to prevent his employing himself either in read- ins: or writino'. The inconvenience thus sus- tained continuing gradually to increase, he * See page 158. 186 submitted to three operations on the left eye in the course of the year 1812, by which, and a fourth in the year 1813, he recovered sufficient sight to read with the help of glasses ; but his bodily strength was now declining, so that he did not reap that advantage from the opera- tions which had been anxiously hoped for by Lis friends. These remarks are confirmed by some of the following extracts. 1812. 1 mo. 14. " I take very kind thy suggestions of comfort; and fully felt the force of thy remark, that it is only the Sun of righte- ousness itself that can dispel the mists of night ; though the voice of the harbingers of morning is chearing to the ear, when they proclaim his approach. Many such voices have I heard, and at least I think they serve to strengthen patience, a virtue in which I have long thought I felt myself deficient, and for which for many a year I trust I have sincerely prayed. My patience naturally, seems less than that of many other men ; and my conflicts, at times, seem to require it beyond most. But I desire to learn in time, that part of the holy song ' Just and true are thy ways.' " 187 1812. 3 mo. 17. " As to mj eyes, I have applied to an oculist, and am not without a thought of undergoing an operation, which ge- nerally succeeds in cases of cataract ; but even in the use of outward means, we should bear in mind that success awaits the will of that Pro- vidence which, I think, is the most magnified when we consider it as reaching to the wants of all his infinite variety of creatures. Philo- sophers talk of general laws ; and general law s no doubt there are ; but a deeply tried mind is apt to feel the want of an Immanuel nearer than this ; and how shall ever individual praise rise to its due and highest pitch so well as when it can feel the blessing brought home, as it were, to its door? This swelled the song of that eminent thanksgiver, the Psalmist. He, to be sure, well knew that ' the heavens de- clare the glory of God,' and that ' the firma- ment sheweth his handy-work;' but I question if his praise was ever more pure and fervent, than when he could say ' I was brought low, and He helped me.' " 1812. 4 mo. 2. " I hoped to find here a spare copy of Henry Tuke's book, but have J88 failed; but as I walked home here, after hav- ing been at Tottenham, I thought so much respecting thy letter that I inclined to say to thee that thou mightest in addition to what confession of doctrine H. T. may help thee to, observe that our Society must not be charged with slighting any Christian doctrine, because it is not always in the mouth. The leaven which the woman took, in the parable, was hidden in the meal ; and the effect proclaimed it. So I hope, as a body, it may be hoped of lis. The criterion given by the best authority is ' By their fruits ye shall know them.' Some of those brought forth in us (I do not want to say bi/ us) look like those of a good seed and husbandman. May we not hope they are the peaceable fruits of righteousness, that is of true justice ? I need not enumerate those in which all religious men are almost ready to applaud us ; and I believe those, in which they do not yet agree with us, may be referred to a desire to adhere to the precepts of Jesus. So, while the lump in general is found to bespeak the leaven, I think we should have credit for more than we always show, especially for that which ive never deny. For my part, I desire, when enabled to desire with hope, that not one tittle 189 of the infinite mercy of the Redeemer may be overlooked. To what else can I look as a solid foundation for hope ? I sometimes think I enter more and more into the understanding of that injunction, ' Say, we are unprofitable servants,' but I do not want to say much, I cannot ; but these thoughts having' arisen in a walk which was enlivened by means of their occurrence, I thought I would let thee have them, which thou hast here pretty much as they occurred.*' 1812. 4 mo. 9. " I have many things which often remind me what a poor helpless creature I am. My beloved wife's ailments have at length and for some time, generally deprived her of the faculty of knowing her friends; and I am not sure that she has known me a minute together for the last quarter of a year. Thus my home is become solitary, or rather would be so, but that my kind friends Jasper and Anne Capper often spare me a daughter, who supplies some of my want of sight. But still I find it almost needful to sojourn a good deal from home, and I am much of my time at the 190 house of rti}^ cousin Paul Bevan at Totten- ham, whose wife, may be, thou knowest is J. C.'s eldest daughter, and than whom I scarcely think a daughter of my own, if I had one, would be more kind and sedulously atten- tive to me. Thus thou mayst see that with all my trouble I have privileges which seem as if they ought to induce thankfulness. How many in th^s vale of tears are the afflicted who have none availingly to pity them ! '* 1812. 5 mo. 6. " Thy letter was and is very acceptable ; and the more so as in hear- ing of the deep discouragement which is at times permitted to assail thy soul, I see some resemblance of that which often preys upon my own ; and there is some comfort in knowing that other servants (if indeed I am yet in the ser- vice of the great Lord) have their provings almost to dismay. So many things have oc- curred to me since we last met, that, with a recollection long since on the wane, I do not clearly remember particulars respecting thy last visit to London, but I have a general impres- ision that thou wast here as a tried disciple. It is 191 pleasant to me to observe that my verj^ dear wife was some strength to thy exercised mind : Ah! now she is no longer able to sympathize with any body, and has long not known her husband, it seems additionally pleasing to be reminded of her former virtues. To deliver thy message of love Avould be wholly useless. ^' I have been enabled to bear the various gradations of her afflicting disease, now of one year and three quarters standing, with mode- rate resignation ; but some of my friends think that my mind has been enfeebled by it; and it is certain that, from whatever cause, I have passed a winter of greater depression than I recollect to have done before. If it be intended as the means of that further refinement of which I am sensible I stand in need, and I be enabled to endure the furnace, there will be no cause for complaint. In the mean time, we have even an apostle's company in finding, that no chastisement for the present is joyous, but grievous,'* 1812. 7 mo. 6. " To my own apprehrn- sion, I get but poorly on; but I know thou 192 wilt not approve of my complaining; and I think I am sure I had much rather be praising, were my harp (if harp I have,) attuned to that delightful employ. I have read somewhere of ' praise waiting ;' it may be well if the desire of thanksgiving is felt to remain, though the fresh ability to be exercised in it seems not at our command ; and, seeing we conceive it to be the blessed employment of the redeemed in their disembodied state, not an employment commensurate with our deserts, be therefore humbly glad that it was thine at Uxbridge; and I trust it was as a seal of the Lord's appro- bation of thy endeavours to serve Him in and about London." 1812. 10 mo. 3. " I was affected at hear- ing thy letter; and soon conceived a wish to attempt a few lines in reply to testify my sym- pathy and love. But I have no barn-floor or wine-press to help thee from. I cannot help myself, yet I trust I am not without a belief that there is a store whence the wants of all may be supplied, when He who has the key sees that his conflicting ones have had enough of fasting. The thing is to be really His j but I9S t-his in times of great depression, is sometimes hard to believe firmly, and for n\y part (though it may not be altogether so with thee) a fre- quent sense of my own unworthiness stands in my way of consoling myself with sueh a per- 1812. 11 mo. 23. " I still hope thyyester- day has been passed without condemnation ; and I am inclined to believe with pity from Him, who is touched with a feeling of our in- firmities I Alaa ! without this, what should any of us do ? or on what good ground should we hope ? " But there is one thing I want thee to re- member for thy comfort. Thou needest not be too much afraid of asking for silence. Ac- cording to our principles, silence is not neces- sarily a signal for speaking. Use it therefore boldly, when needful ; and may. the blessing of the Lord, before whom thou desirest to ap- prove thyself, attend thee, with such portions of His reward as may best promote thy being- kept close to Him iu all thy movements iu His 19\ iSia 12 mo. 11. As to myseir, the eye that has been operated on is, probably, re- ceiving some increase of lijolit, but the other grows dimmer in a much quicker ratio, so that the balance is yet against me* Against me, did I say : I wish to believe, if it be in the ordering of that Wisdom that cannot err, and which is said to care for the sparrows, it may ultimately tend to the benefit of one who seems increasingly to feel his own weakness, and the great need he has of the arm of divine support, to enable him truly in any degree, to bring forth fruits to his praise." Memorandum. 1812. 12 mo. 2S. " Went to the quarterly meeting of ministers and elders, had an exercising time there, and came away under considerable depression. Re- flecting a little before supper on the various species of iniquity and oppression which abound in the world, 1 was somewhat cheered by the further recollection, that there was a Power to which the mind might apply under such distres- sing feelings ; and though I witnessed no great ability to pour forth a petition to this Power, yet the thought seemed to be the ushering in cf 195 an evening that ended with, more calm tliaii some others. I desire to add, though I am afraid of doing it in the oldness of the letter, * Praised be the Lord.' " 1813. 3 mo. 24. " I tliink I am some- times further tried than by the mere negative sense of not being apparently useful. I cannot easily persuade myself that my general habits of resignation are such as ought to be those of so long a professing Christian ; and fear will sometimes slip in, that they are not sufficient to entitle me to that permanent union with the great Head of the Church, the hope of which is the. Christian's anchor in time, and the fruition of which must form his sustenance and life for ever. On these accounts, when my consoling friends appeal to my experience in divine things, they sometimes defeat their own purpose by using a standard, by which I am afraid to measure myself. 1 am sometimes reminded of the late Elizabeth Rathbone, who, as appears from the account,* had had many * ::cL " Piety Promoted," part x. page 97. o2 r96 encouraging expressions dealt to her, by va- rious friends ; yet seemed not to dare to rely much on them ; and could not be satisfied without immediate relief; as it were, without help from the sanctuary, and strength out ot Zion itself." 1814. 1 mo. 4. " As to the more import- ant part, I am afraid it would be presumption to boast of much advancement ; and ingratitude to deny, that I hope I am still under the pro- tection of that mercy, which, as our late friend John Eliot said, I want» Between these two sides of the question, it may be best to say but little ; but this I hope I may say without pre- sumption, that I think I never more loved ray intimate friends in the Truth." 1814. 3 mo. 8. " As to thy mental feel- ings, it is probable that the transition from much active and useful employment to the comparative solitude of thy sofa, will be likely rather to cherish dejection ; but I hope it will not be nllou'ed to prevail ^o ^.^ to do thee any 197 jiijiiry, for *'who," or one may venture to say what, is there that shall " harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good ?" And I have no doubt that thou art sometimes enabled to look to the Power that has hitherto been thy refuge in greater or less troubles. " I have been much pleased in reading 's account of her concern on behalf of those who use bad language, because in my younger time it was often a burden to me, from which I fre- quently could not feel myself delivered without being willing* plainly, yet 1 hope tenderly, to bear my testimony against it ; and with regard to , before I heard that part whicli relates to her intended written admonition, I felt desirous that she might be attentive, as occasions arise, to discover whether verbal ad- vice be required. I am afraid that there is a danger of our liking better to give a little tract, than to demonstrate the weakness that some- times seems to attend verbal communication. Not that I am at all desirous that she should suppress any right motion towards it ; which will, in all probability, be more forcible, if it refer the transgressing party to the inward con- sciousness which such persons possess, of sin- ning against knowledge." 198 1814. 4 mo. II. ''I apprehend a peace- ful retreat, in abasedness of spirit, from an arduous scene of labour, such as I think a Yisit to this great quarterly-meeting must be allowed to be, is all which an experienced minister is likely to expect ; and with regard to thy anticipating the feelings which may be thine, when thou art allowed to retreat from the general and constant concerns of the Christ- ian warfare, which thy occasional infirmities warn thee to expect at no very distant period, they have been sweet to my taste, as a com- ment on those memorable words, ' Say we are unprofitable servants.' '' As to me too, I think I am not without my warnings, for in addition to the degree of blindness, which has long much unfitted me for active employment, I am now not a little troubled (as the word on these occasions gene- rally is) with considerable shortness of breath, which renders much motion very inconvenient. 1 have put some words above in a parenthesis, because I do not yet feel these asthmatic symp- toms as a genuine trouble for a Christian, and I hope if I could perceive the inward man to be renewed, day by day, while the outward 199 man v/as decaying, I should be inclined to think them a blessing, a cause of thankful- ness.'* The health of J. G. Bevan had for some months previous to the writing of the foregoing letter, become increasingly enfeebled, and the dropsical symptoms, which were now appa- rent, confirmed the apprehensions of his kind attendants, that the solemn close of life was not very far distant* On the 9th of the 7th month, he remarked that it was very awful to think of leaving pro- bation for a fixed state ; and added, " I do not know how it is, I am sure I have nothing to trust to of my own, yet I do not feel dismay." This day he mentioned with much humility, that the idea of Christ was precious to him. He received a short visit from a young man with whom he had been long acquainted, and for whose spiritual welfare he had felt much concern. He mentioned with great calmness, the iniprbbability of their ever seeing each other again, and after the visitor was gone, ex- 200 pressed a hope, that he had been supported in so much cheerfulness as to show, " that in Christianity there is an anchor." On the 11th he dictated the following to his ancient friend John Kendall.* " My dear friend^ Thy letter of the 9th is very pleasant to me, though I apprehend thou hast not been informed of the rapid declension of my health since yearly meeting. I was then able to attend most of the sittings, though many of them only in part, and scarcely ever any of the committees. Since that time my disorders, which are of the asthmatic kind, have come on to a degree that I think has been the means of enfeebling: me more than ever I was reduced in the course of my life; and I have often been induced to question whether they may not prove the means of removing me from this state of probation. I feel it a serious thing to remain under this humiliating view, and do not find that I have any thing to trust in but Divine mercy, the hope of which is an anchor, which I am not wholly deprived of, * To whom the letters inserted at pages lOD, IGI, 179, 189, were also >\ritten. £01 iliough I am made renewedly to ieel my own un worthiness." On the 17th, he remarked that now he was taught to believe that his continuance in this tabernacle would not be long, it was hi3 greatest comfort to have a hope of admission into " a house not made with hands." On the 19th, on hearing a portion of Mary Waring's diary, he said in a very impressive manner, " I am sure there is no service like the Lord's service, however little I may have been able to be his servant." And in the evening remarked, " that the prospect of the final change was awful, but he could not say he had yet been allowed to feel dismay." To a friend who called upon him, he observed, that he had many things to be. thankful for ; and not the least the kindness of those who waited on him. When he was about to leave him, he said, " I feel that I love thee, and I hope it is in the truth, and desire thy prosperity in it, and that thou mayst work while it is called day, and continue to be useful, now thou art in thy vigour in some respects, to a Society that wants all the help it can have. The more reference we have, in whatever we do, to that Power that can do all for us, the better we shall get on : and after all, there is no crown we can thi k of as- suming ; we must give all the praise to Him. Farewell, my dear friend." In a letter dictated to a much loved relative, on the 1st of the 9th mo. 1814, after alluding to his health, he adds, " I hope what I have said will not be set down as the language of re- pining, for I believe I may say that in a retro- spect of my complaints, I have scarcely, if ever dared to desire that things had been ordered for me otherwise than they have been. I am ready to be surprised that so unworthy a creature has hitherto been preserved in the degree of com- posure which I have been permitted to ex- perience ; and well will it be, if self-love, or some other hidden cause, does not make me think more favourably of the state of my ov/n mind than I ought." -On the 11th of the 9th month, being First- day, he spent the morning pleasantly. In the evening he desired to have a little stillness, in which his mind was comforted and refreshed. He sat in the parlour with the family, during the usual reading of the Scriptures, ending then 203 with the I03d Psalm, which he remarked, with pleasure, having lately mentioned it as a very sweet Psalm. This, with the chapter read in the morning, namely, 2 Cor. v., were the last por- tions of Scripture which he heard, and they seem to have been peculiarly adapted to one just about to put off mortality. Reappeared as well as usual on Second-day the 12th. On retiring to the sofa for his custo- mary repose in the afternoon, he entered into conversation on the state of things in our Society, which he considered as calling for increased diligence, especially among its more conspicuous members; after which he fell asleep. In a few minutes he was heard to cougli, and without any indication of pain, soon passed quietly away. In reviewing the life of this dear, departed friend, it appears to present a striking and in- structive instance of the power of Religion on the mind. In his early years, he heard the inspeaking Word of Divine Grace. At a period of life, when the pleasures and allurements of the world present strong and powerful attractions. 204 {dud to these attractions he was no stranger,) with a mind naturally inclined to pride, — sur- rounded by those who admired his talents and sought his society, — placed in a situation in lifcj in which outward enjoyment and the means of gratifying himself in the things of time were abundant, — he obeyed the heavenly call. He took up the Cross ; and endeavoured faithfully to w alk in the path of self-denial. When engaged in the active scenes of life, and in the support of those religious truths ■which he had embraced from conviction, he 'Still found that the Christian's course is a con- tinual warfare. His own experience taught him that the propensities of nature were not subdued ; that the enemies of his own house were strong and lively. But he did not relin- quish the contest ; he did not allow himself to be overcome by indulgence or indifference ; his perseverance was steadfast. His exalted views of the purity of life and conduct which ought to mark the genuine disciple, his sense of that holiness, without which no man can see the Lord, added to the conflict. Here was his safeguard : — Being driven to look frequently V, ith fervent desires unto the Almighty for 205 help, humility, patience, and love increased ; the cause of his Redeemer became more and more precious in his sight; he was enabled to look in faith unto Him as his Saviour; and there is abundant cause to believe, that he has joined the blessed company of those who, through faith and patience inheriting the pro- mises, have entered into everlasting rest. CHAPTER Vlli. A short account of Mary Beva AS it is probable that to some of the readers of the foregoing pages, a short account of Mary Bevan niaj form an acceptable addi- tion, the following particulars, chiefly written by those who were well acquainted with her worth, are subjoined. She was the daughter of Robert and Hannah Plumsted, and born in London, the 26th of the 6 rao. 1751. Her father, who had been for some time an acknowledged ministei , died when she was about nine years old. 207 The care of her education, as well as that of the younger sister, of course devolved on her surviving parent, who devoted her time and attention to her children in a manner seldom surpassed, and not often equalled. The effects of this care were very early visible in the sub- ject of these remarks, and she was recognised as one of the most exemplary and consistent young women in her station in life. Her mother lived to an advanced age, and this parental care was afterwards repaid by a full share of filial love and attention. In the more immediate circle of her friends she was much and deservedly beloved. She was a humble, self-denying woman, one who was concerned to live in the fear of the Lord, vei'y watchful over her words and actions, care- ful not to over-rate her own religious impres- sions, but sincerely desirous of being found in the way of her duty. She manifested much interest in the spiritual advancement and com- fort of those who were uprightly pursuing the same course ; and she often extended a friendly care to some of these, who from their secluded situation in life might not obtain much of the notice of their friends. At the same time, she endeared herself hy her kind and affectionate behaviour to many who had not so fully sub- mitted to the yoke of Christ. The friends of her own monthly meeting. Ml their testimony concerning her, observe, " In the year 1784, she yielded to a con- viction of duty which had long been on her mind, and appeared as a minister in our meet- ings for worship, in which service she was^ acceptably engaged, while ability remained. She was seldom engaged to utter many words : and was particularly careful not to exceed what she apprehended to be her commission, being of a very diffident mind. " To us who have been witnesses of her exemplary deportment, kindness, and compas- sionate attention to those who stood in need of assistance, it seems pleasant to add, that she was particularly solicitous for the welfare of the youth among us; by some of whom her affectionate sympathy and tender care will, doubtless, long be remembered. " Her bodily and mental faculties gradually declined, in the latter years of her life ; but in 209 that time, the sweetness and innocence of her spirit were to be sensibly felt, and the general covering of her mind seemed to be that of sup- plication." The commencement of her last illness was on the 25th of the 7 mo. 1810, when she was seized with a fit of an apoplectic nature ; but she recovered so much in the course of a few weeks, as to encourage some hopes that its effects would wear off. These hopes were how- ever quite destroyed by a second attack, and sei- zures of this kind afterwards became frequent. During the course of this afflicting illness, she appeared to derive much consolation from continuing a practice which she had long ob- served, that of allotting a portion of each day to wait in silence upon the Almighty. The following memorandums, made by one of her kind attendants, instructively exemplify that under very sore trial, her soul was confi- ding in the only Source of effectual help: — " 1811. 1 mo. S. Having herself an ap- prehension of approaching death, and feeling- much solicitude to be prepared for it, and to p 210 obtain forgiveness for past oflfences, she sweetly expressed it in these words — ' Be pleased, O Lord, to forgive all my sins, to pardon all my faults, and receive me into glory.' " 1 mo. 20. First day : having passed the day more comfortably than usual, and being retired up-stairs, silence prevailed, which was ended by the following expression of thanks- giving—' I thank thee, O Lord ! for the little help thou hast been pleased this day to grant.' " 2 mo. 2. She supplicated in the follow- ing manner : — ' Enable us, O Lord, to be still, and know that Thou art God. Preserve us from endeavouring to offer prayer merely in words of our own ; but grant us a degree of living faith that we are thine, and that thou wilt not forsake us.' — After a short pause, she said — ' And though our states may vary, let us endeavour to believe in what is made manifest for us to do ; and, if more is required of us, seek for strength to perform it, for it is of great importance in an hour like this, to feel, in some degree, that we are safe with God.' " 2 mo. 4. She was much depressed in mind, but when about going to bed, she seemed to be raised a little above it, and said — ' When 211 we are very low, it is some cause of comfort to remember that we are not below the notice of Him who knoweth all things, and Ijnows us as we are/ '' 6 mo. 17. She had an attack, which for a time deprived her of recollection. About twelve hours afterwards she uttered the fol- lowing words : — ' Oh Lord ! be pleased to help me; be pleased not to lay on me more than I can bear.' " In the 7th month a more trying seizure than any of the preceding took place ; and though considerable amendment followed, ma- ny distressing hours were her portion, from that time to the end of the year 1811; but amidst all these, the spirit of prayer and gratitude was at times felt and acknowledged. With fluctuations of bodily health, fre- quent returns of spasm, and convulsion fits, this dear friend continued in this scene of trial until the 23d of the 5 mo. 1813, when apparently without any consciousness of pain she was released from the conflicts of time ; pS 212 and her surviving friends had the consolation to believe that her purified spirit ascended to the realms gf everlasting peace. 213 DETACHED PIECES, Selected from some Manuscripts which J, G. Be-can left at the time of his decease^ or ex- tracted from some of his printed works. I. On the nature of Punishment, " The Law seems to go on the principle of lex talionis: 'eye for eye: tooth for tooth,' &c. ' Life for life' seems to be only consistent with this. " The Gospel (as said John the Baptist) lays the axe to the root of corruption. " Its spirit leads not to injure, much less to kill, the body, but to mend the mind ; therefore punishments, on a Christian plan, must have the latter in view always ; the former never, except in subserviency to the latter. This, I think, will utterly abolish all capital punish- ments, stripes, and public stigmas. 2U ^^ Restraint, labour, and solitude, are cIiieHy admissible, because they tend to make the cul* prit better, and may therefore be proved not only consonant in their nature to the Gospel, but really so to the golden gospel-rule, ' Do unto others, ' &c. : for every enlightened, upright man (and such only are fit to judge) must wish, that should he ever slip from the right way, and be obnoxious to his country's laws, those laws may rather operate to bring him back, than either to destroy him in a sinful state, or stigmatize him to such a degree that honest men will shun him. As to the wish that some have had to suffer death, lest they should be again tempted, it seems to prove them in some degree penitent and humble j and such are fit to live." II. On Christian Admonition. *•' It seems assuming, on a slight view, for one man to take upon him to advise another on subjects which respect Religion; because it implies that he thinks himself at least wiser in that point whereon he gives advice ; and 215 this is uneasy for a mind, unaccustomed to self- abasement, to bear. But as there are more views of most subjects than one, it may be well to consider that when the mind is thoroughly convinced of any position, and believes that the eternal interests of the soul are concerned in the observance or rejection of any practice ; if that mind is filled with that love to our neighbour, which is the natural consequence of loving the Creator above all, grief will en- sue, if it behold a brother holding principles or pursuing practices, contrary to those which it most assuredly believes to make for peace. " What then can be more consistent with that love, or prove it more, than endeavour- ing to show the neighbour his apprehended error? This is so far from arising from a desire of superiority, that it tends to elevate the neighbour to the same step in the scale of Christian attainment, which the admonisher verily believes himself to possess. It says not, ^ Be thou below me' ; but, ' Partake with me'." 216 III. On immediate Retelalion. " It appears to me a great inconsistency, if not a great absurdity, to reject immediate Revelation, and yet hold (what no Christian can fail to hold) the duty of prayer. The latter supposes a direct or open communica- tion or channel, from man's heart to the Deity; the former, a direct and open communication from the Deity to man's heart. ^' The inconsistency is this, that the commu- nication should be open one way, and shut or impervious, the other. The absurdity is, that as the Deitj knows the want of the heart with- out being informed, and, as in many particular cases the heart cannot know the will of the Deity, unless His will be revealed, the presump- tion would be, that the communication from the Deity to the heart is the more wanted of the two." IV. On Meekness in religious Controversy,* " Such is the impatience of our minds, that we find it easier to cry down an opinion which * Refutation, &c. page 94. 217 clashes with our own, than to examine it with coolness ; and to inveigh against its author, than to desire his instruction. While this is the case, debate is not likely to sift out truth ; but when the time shall come that such as profess the name of Christ, shall infuse into their controversies all the gentleness, forbear- ance, and love, which His religion enjoins, it is probable that Christianity will be advanced by the superior conviction which will attend the discussion of its votaries. May the mind that is convinced of these truths, suffer them to operate as a rule of its conduct; and thus be one to carry on the work which it desires to tiee accomplished ! " V. On the Benefits of Eeligious Restraint.''^ " The mind, especially when not much ac- customed to dwell on religious consideration>., is not always disposed to advert to serious sub- jects. Sometimes, however, and particularly in youth, there are seasons when anxiety re- specting the concerns of a future life will pre- ^ Account of the Life and Writings of Robert Barclar, p. 125. '2iS vail ; and disturb the joy, which the pursuit and the acquirement of the pleasant things of time are wont to afford. " Happy is it, that these interruptions are experienced: for they bring into view greater and more permanent pleasures. On such oc- casions, religion comes for the purpose of bringing balm to the soul, and of alleviating its burthens ; not to increase its oppressions. '^ The restraints of a religious life are in- deed sometimes irksome ; though principally at the entrance, and less so as we proceed ; but in proportion as the mind is willing to suffer a sense of its weaknesses and wants to remain upon it, without seeking relief from dissipation, (taking the word in its least offen- sive meaning,) it will the less feel those re- straints to be irksome, because it will know them to be the harbingers of more perfect free- dom. ^' In this state of mind a review of the ex- perience of those who have more largely tasted both of the bitterness and the sweetness of a religious life, who have borne the cross, and felt the consolation of Christianity, will, at times, be a delightful recreation. 219 <^ The writings of Robert Barclay contain much encouragement to sincere-hearted per- sons, travelling through the temptations of time, to the rewards of eternity. They bear strong and ample testimony to Christ, the sure refuge of the weary soul. The most feeble, persevering Christian may be animated with the hope of reaching that sure refuge, when he reflects, that his Lord hath declared to the least, as well as to the greatest servant in his family, ' Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.' " VI. Remarks on some Passages of Scripture. 1. "I am meek and lowly in heart." Matth. xi. 29. "I have been thinking as I rode homeward this evening, that one may be low, that is de- pressed in mind or spirits, and yet not be thus lowly in heart, that is, humble. Now it is worth considering, whether by means of at- tempting to receive every disposition of mind, not brought on by our own folly, as a dispcn- 220 sation of Providence, we may not receive the state of mind called lowness, flatness, and de- jection, with an acquiescence and content, that will convert what was simply lowness into this blessed lowliness, to which, as being the dis- position of Jesus, the promise appertains, ' Ye shall find rest to your souls.' " 1 mo. 1. 1803. 2. On the spiritual application of the expres- sions of Christ, " The life is more than meat." Luke xii. 23. " The soul in conflict, and in seeming de- sertion, longs for relief. It would be glad that almost any thing were made bread, so that it could but eat and be satisfied ; forgetting that there is a time to fast, and that at such times, fasting is more conducive to health, and consequently to life, than feeding would be. But let such an one thus learn the force of the assertion, < The life is more than meat.' He knows that he is alive by the sense of hunger, and by the feeling of pain ; and, if he can live contentedly the appointed time in this needy state, he doubtless lives acceptably, because he 221 then eminently lives by faith, not by enjoy- ment. Herein the gracious declaration, ' The life is more than meat,' will be understood and prove consoling, similar to that consonant say- ing of the Psalmist, ' Behold the eye of the Lord is upon them that fear Him, upon them that hope in His mercy : to deliver their soul from death, and to keep them alive in famine.' Psalm xxxiii. 18, 19,''' 3. " In his humiliation his judgment was taken away." Acts viii. 33. " In the place of Isaiah, which the eunuch was reading when Philip joined him, was this clause, 'In his humiliation his judgment was taken away.' This is [sometimes] quoted to show, that, although during the conflicts of the new birth, even the reason and judgment suffer in the view of the Christian traveller, and possibly of those who observe him, a tem- porary suspension, it is no more than has be- fore befallen the great Exemplar. But the passage, I think, means no such thing. Let us read the place in Isaiah himself, as far as our translators can guide us. li stands thus, ' He was taken from prison, and from judgment.' The margin ' He was taken away by distress and judgment.' Tindall says, ' He shal be had away, his cause not herd, and wythout any judgement.' The old folio black letter, ' He was had awaye from prison, his cause not liearde, and without any judgemente.' Lowth, ' By an oppressive judgment, he was taken off.' The supposition that the discernment of Jesus is here said to have been taken away, seems to arise from the ambiguous meaning of the English word ^judgment.* When this suppo- sition had thus once arisen, the Eloi^ Eloiy lama sabachthani, on the cross, seemed to give it probability; but as ^judgment' means not only ^understanding' but ' j ustice,' (legal deci- sion,) the best sense seems to be, ' In his hu- miliation, justice was denied him.' Besides the injustice of condemning the innocent, Lowth, in his note on Isaiah liii. 8, hints at the peculiar injustice which took place on the con- demnation of Jesus Christ." 923 4. " Let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking' unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who, for the joy that was set before Him, endured the cross," &c. Heb. xii. 12, " In this passage, the sense in which we understand the small word for, much affects the meaning. It should be considered that the word for, also means i?istead of and is so used in various parts of the Bible : as, ' for your shame, you shall have double,' and, ' for confusion, they shall rejoice in their portion/ Our translators, therefore, may also have had this meaning in this place ; but, probably, the words ' set before him ' may have misled those who think that ' for' here means ^ for the sake of.' Two French translations, Martin's and that of Mons, an Italian version, and the Latin one of Beza, all use words equivalent to ' instead of\ The following note is affixed to the Latin word pro, in Beza's version, which w ord exactly corresponds to our English for, even in its ambiguity. ' Who,' says the anno- tator, ' although He had in His hand, and in His power, all manner of bleesedness, yet. He 22i spontaneously underwent the sljame of the cross.' According- to this sense, an English reading would be somewhat thus — ' Who, in- stead of the joy that lay before Him — ' &c. Now, I w^ould here ask, whether it be not more agreeable to our sense of that Redeem- ing Love, which is the foundation of the hope and faith of a Christian, to view the Saviour, as it were, laying aside his glories, to come and partake with man in the infirmities of the flesh, than to suppose Him undertaking the w ork of the redemption of man for the sake of reward ? I am inclined to believe that most will answer, ' It is' : agreeably to the fol- low ing passage of the apostle Paul, ' For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor; that ye, through His poverty, might be rich.' 2 Cor. viii. 9. " Thus often doth one Scripture passage elucidate another; and the harmony of these precious writings is observed, and will often be observed, by those who read them in single- ness of heart : furnishing the best defence against the cavils of modern sceptics, who pre- tend to find in them contradictions which thev 225 pertinaciously dwell on, in order to depreciate and vilify a book which they are sensible is replete with censures on their own disposition of mind.'* 5. " Blessed are they that do his command- ments, that they may have right to the tree of life." Rev. xxii. 14. *' I believe the word here translated right is no where else so turned, except inHeb. xiii. 10. ^ We have an altar whereof they have no right to eat,' &c. In other places our translators generally use the simple word power, particu- larly in John i. 12. — ' To them gave he power to become,' &c. and this w ord, ' power,' would suit the place in Hebrews, and I believe most of the places where the corresponding word is used in the original language : and would not convey any thing like an idea that the reward in any case, is, as it were, of debt, and not merely of grace. " I do not feel myself qualified or disposed to enter deeply into the discussion of the ques- tion, but I am apt to think there are many tender minds among us (and some whom I ap- Q 226 prehend to be striving.to enter in at the strait gate) who would be likely to fear that Re- 'emption was at a greater distance from them cijan they sometimes hope it is, if they had to view final acceptance as an attainment to which they should ever be able to lay claim, otherwise than. as a free gift of Mercy, sur- passing all their finite endeavours; and who seem to comprehend tlie command to say they are unprofitable servants, better than the pro- bability that they can ever claim the kingdom of right." 6. " We have a more sure word of prophecy. *' 2 Peter i. 19.* *• This passage has given rise to some controversy ; and standing as it does in our common translation, it is not surprising that it should; but there is great reason to sup- pose that it is wrongly translated, and that no comparison between the voice on the mount and any thing else, was intended by the Apostle. Much of the arguments, however, of * Memoir of the Life of Isaac Penington, page 224. 227 Isaac Penington, and several others of our early friends, in favour of the superiority of the Spirit to the letter, may still stand good. In fact, the professors of those times used this text to prove the all-sufficiency of the Scrip- tures. Our friends, who had learned the pre- excellence of the cause before the effect, opposed them on their own ground ; and while both parties allowed that something was sup- posed to be preferred to the voice on the mount, they had reason on their side in asserting that it could not be the Scripture. It is with diffi- dence and fear, I presume to conclude, that such eminent men were not fully aware of the true meaning of the passage ; but if the words, rightly translated, are literally these, ' And we have more sure the prophetic word,' the com- parison ' more sure,' (which probably means ' more confirmed,') will relate to the increased confirmation which the primitive Christians had of prophecy, by having seen its accomplish- ment. I think the subsequent verses are also clearer by this means, and accord better with the scope of the whole passage," q2 VII. On the character of the Apostle PauL* ^' It is not necessary to inform the Christian who has attentively read the things recorded in Scripture of the Apostle Paul, that he was a very remarkable person ; but he was remark- able for some things which may not, at first sight, strike the reader; and, setting aside the miraculous part of his history, for nothing more than for carrying his Christian warfare, at once, into the heart of countries clouded with superstition, and deluged with immorality. Without descending to every particular, we may find him planting, or confirming, churches at Antioch, contaminated by the infamous manners of Daphne ; in Phrygia, celebrated for the lewd and impious orgies of Bacchus and Cybele ; at Ephesus, proud in the possession of what was thought a gift of Jupiter, their great Diana ; and at Corinth, where religion was made a cloak for abominable impurity. This list may be closed with the addition of imperial Rome, the sink of every vice which the abuse of riches and power introducers among men. The success of the Gospel iu • Life of the Apostle Paul, 2nd edition, p. 423. 229 such places is striking, and evinces at the same time its own Divine power, and the skilfulness of the hands to whom its propagation was committed. " The progress of the Gospel was emi- nentlj? promoted by the miracles which its messengers were enabled to perform : which though I have just waved, I by no means pro- pose to doubt or to slight. In the case of our Apostle, besides the miracles attendant on his conversion, we have the instances of Elymas at Paphos, of the cripple at Lystra, of PauFs recovery at the same city, of the divining maid of Philippi, of the earthquake there, of the gift of tongues at Ephesus, together with many other special ones related in Acts xix. 11, 12, and of the restoration to life of Eutychus at Troas. Nor are these all ; yet we read of no miracle at Athens, nor of many converts. Athens was too full to be hungry, too wise to be taught. She was the great university of the day, and numbered among her scholars, the senatorial youth of Rome. Thus the pride of knowledge seems to have opposed the Gospel more than the defilement of vice. So it was ia Judea with the scribes and pharisees, who axe ^^0 desciibed as being more tardy in their prog-ress to the kingdom of heaven, than the publicany and harlots. The Apostle accommodated him- self to the Athenian taste. He reasoned, and, as we think, reasoned forcibly ; but the general result was, mockery and procrastination; and the messenger of salvation quitted this city of lettered superstition. Knowledge has nothing necessarily evil in itself; but to be unexcep- tionable, it must be attended with diffidence and humility, and not be like that of our first parents, a forbidden knowledge. *' There is another very observable thing in the ministry of our Apostle, namely, his en- deavour that it should be without charge to hi^ converts. It is not probable that in every place where he came, he could effect this ; but as it falls out that we have a plain intimation of it, with respect to three places, it is very fair to believe that he had the same care in others, where his residence was long pro- tracted. The first hint of this kind is in his first letter to the Thessalonians, where he tells them, 'Ye remember, brethren, our labour and travail : for labouring night and day because we would not be chargeable unto any of you, 251 we preached unto you the Gospel of God.' Not long after this he visited the opulent city of Corinth, and here he set himself to manual labour. He lodged with a tent-maker, and fellow-believer, the virtuous Aquila* ^nd, * because,' says the text, ' he was of the same craft, he abode with them,' that is, Aquila and Priscilla, ' and wrought.' After this residence at Corinth, which was of more than eighteen months' duration, he took a long circuit, and some time afterwards came to Ephesus. In all this time we have reason to think his indus- trious disposition was not changed ; for, when he took his leave of the Ephesian elders, who met him at the neighbouring city, Miletus, after reminding them of his three years' di- ligent and affectionate warnings, he says, emphatically, in the consciousness of disin- terested love, ' I have coveted no man's silver, or gold, or apparel ; yea, ye yourselves know that these hands have ministered unto my necessities; and them that were with me:' And he seems not only to have used industry in his own person, but to have recommended it to the elders from Ephesus, in the num- ber of whom we may reckon the bishops and deacons:—' I have showed you all thingS;^ 232 how that so labouring ye ought to support the weak; and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive.' '^ Thus, on a slight review of the character of the Apostle, we may pronounce him to have been intrepid in his zeal to build the church, and eminently disinterested in his conduct towards his converts. Intrepidity and zeal are, it is certain, often exerted in causes which do not mark those who possess them for religious or virtuous men; but when they are exerted where not only no emolument is the reward of the exertion; but, on the contrary, 'tribula- tion, or persecution, or famine, or peril, or the sword;' then it is that we may venture to believe a man, at the least, sincere : and when, as in the present instance, the cause which he undertakes is unquestionably good, great, and glorious; when the zeal is tempered with knowledge, and when fervent love throws its lustre over the other Christian virtues ; we need not be backward in acknowledging that we discover the noblest of characters, the sin^ cere and intrepid Christian. " It may be improper, however, to turn 233 away from this subject without remindint; the reader (if indeed by this time he want the mo- nition) that in contemplating the virtues, espe- cially the Christian virtues, of excellent men, we must be careful to ascribe all merit to the Light and Grace of God, freely bestowed, and implicitly obeyed. We are indeed commanded to let our light shine, but it is to shine to the glory of the Heavenly Father. This was con- spicuously our Apostle's care ; and the epistles are fraught with testimonials of it." VIII. Extracts from a Replj/ to a Roman Catholic^ who had objected to some of the principles of Friends. " The apostle Peter confessed that the true church is formed of the sincerely pious of all churches, when he said, ' Of a truth, I perceive that God is no respecter of persons ; but in every nation he that feareth Him, and worketh righteousness is accepted of Him.' As the Al- mighty is unchangeable, it is the same now as in the days of Peter : and surely either those whom God accepts must be in the true church, pr saved without it. 2S4 " This being granted it seems to follow j that from the true church we are not dissen- ters ; consequently not from the body of Christ, w hich we allow this church to be ; and although her existence hath often been in secret, and her chief habitation may yet be in the wilder- ness, yet will she exist to the end of the world. " Keening in view this enlarged, and truly catholic idea, we may easily believe that minis- ters of the true church may arise, out of the Romish limits. The proof of their call, which our early ministers gave, was the correspond- ence of their doctrines with the feelings in ^he consciences of those to whom they preach- ed. This seems to be tlie kind of prophecy mentioned by Paul, as excelling even the gift of tongues ; by which the secrets of the heart being made manifest, the hearers could not but confess that God was in these ministers of a truth. Thus was faith produced, which will be confessed to be the clearest ground on which to receive doctrine : and firm faith it must have been, to enable those who received it tq withstand the opposition which their profession of it at that time occasioned. " Reaching thus to the inmost recesses of the heart, a lliing which human ingenuity can never do, this ministry was properly distin- guished from the teachings of men. It ws.s teaching by the means of man; but its origin was confessed to be divine We therefore do not lie under the imputation of any inconsis- tency, in having said that the teachings of men are to be neglected ; and yet still w^riting and preaching our own tenets. And we desire no better than that all who hear our preachers, or read our books, will try our doctrine by the test of their own unbiassed feelings, accepting nothing on trust from us, and at the same time not estimating us by their own preconceptions. Neither must mere antiquity be considered as the test of truth. Sin and error were very an- cient, when the outward profession of Christi- anity itself was a novelty. Antiquity hath been a common cry with such as have disliked the notion of any being wiser than themselves: whereas were the doctrines of Christ suffered to operate freely and fully on the mind, it i^ not only probable, but can hardly be conceived otherwise, that the world would every day be- come more enlightened with dicoveries of the divine will; and it would be the evening song of one generation, that the succeeding one 236 would make the glory of the Lord more con- spicuous, by the further effusions of gospel^ light which they would receive. '' The apostle Paul in his advice to the Ephesians, forbids drunkenness, and advises to be filled with the Spirit, ' Speaking,' says he, ^ to yourselves in psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs, making melody in your hearts to the Lord.' To say nothing of the spiritual cast of this verse, we shall not controvert the actions of those who are filled with the Spirit. That which we condemn is for men not so filled, yea who mock at the pretence of being so filled, to take into their mouths words spo- ken or written by men under that holy influ- ence, and to call their so doing worship. To a man thus filled we should not object as a fault, his using the very words of the Lord's prayer, recorded by Luke. Matthew however introduces the prayer with informing us, that Jesus said, ' After this manner pray ye,' that is, concisely, and not like the heathen, with vain repetitions and much speaking. But as prayer is one of the most solemn acts in which man can be engaged, it is especially necessary it should always be performed with sincerity. How can the frequent abuser of the name o§ 257 God say truly, ' hallowed be thy name ? ' Mankind too generally oppose his reign by pride, oppression, and violence ; how can they then pray that his kingdom may come, and his will be done on earth as in heaven ? Can the man who daily rises to the contemplation of his own self-sufficiency, pray for that daily bread, of which he doth not perceive the want, or for the forgiveness of those sins of which he feels not the burden ; and can those pray in earnest not to be led into temptation, who, in their whole conduct, rather seek than avoid it ? Surely, No. If even this form, however divinely instituted, becomes in the mouths of the multitude, a lie ; much less can we expect forms of acknowledged human origin to profit them, and to conduct them into the presence of the Most High, who is, saith his beloved Son, a Spirit." IK. On Prater connected zoith Silent Waiting, (From a Letter.) " It is chiefly on the subject of Silent Wait- ing, that I feel desirous of giving thee satisfac- tion ; at least of endeavouring to obviate thy objections. And I think there is one obvious 2J8 remark which will almost intrude itself on us, when we have first a little cleared the way, by explaining a term or two. But previously even to that, I will state what I conceive to be the force of thy objection against Silent Waiting- ; namely, ' that it supersedes and prevents that which all Christians esteem a duty* It prevents prayer, even prayer for the influence of the Holy Spirit, although that is what our Friends profess to be necessary and indispensable.' " Now let us define Prayer. Is it not the application of the heart to God ? My mind, I confess, acquiesces with this definition, and I think there is in Scripture at least one exhor- tation to prayer, which cannot comport with any other. ' Pray,' says Paul, ' without ceasing.' Words are rather the expression of that prayer which first arises in the heart, than prayer itself. Or, if it please thee better, we will take Cruden's more ample definition. ' Prayer is an offering up our desires to God, for things lawful and needful, with an humble confidence to obtain them through the alone mediation of Christ, &c,' The latter part of this is not to our purpose (and possibly it goes full far 230 onougli. It seems to deny that Jews, and Turks, and Pagans, can pray at all ; and I question if it will not exclude the prayer of Cornelius before the visit of Peter,) but he goes on, ' Prayer is either mental or vocal.' Of course mental prayer is prayer ; and may be genuine prayer, acceptable and accepted jirayer, prayer attracted and inspired by a sense of the love of the Almighty. " Now to me it is obvious, that he who sits down sincerely to wait on the Source of wisdom and strength, sits down in a spirit of mental prayer. He has faith to believe that the Lord can supply his wants, and he desires that He should ; but as he knows not always what to pray for as he ought, he waits, the spirit of supplication still clothing him, for ability to distinguish his present more prevailing wants. Thus to me it is obvious that waiting; does not obstruct genuine prayer, heaven-be- gotten prayer, whether it be by the expression of words, or the secret aspiration of the heart, or the intercession of the Spirit with unutter- able groans. But I believe we need not rest this matter solely, though 1 think it rests safely, on this 240 reasoning, we can assert the negative of thy proposition from experience. I do not at all doubt that many can testify that their silent waiting has often led them to prai/er ; but I am aware that an appeal to the hidden feelings of others is not a valid argument, unless every one appealed to, were present to confirm the appeal. But what wilt thou say to the un- numbered instances of prayer in our public meetings for worship ever since we became a people ? Yet these meetings are also for the express purpose of waiting on the Almighty. We have also instances of persons who have left behind them notes of their spiritual expe- rience ; and we find as they feel their wants, and their weakness without a present helper, a Christ as it were at hand, they are led to prayer, if it be but Lord^ help. " Having now, I hope, shown that silent wait- ing is not obstructive of the genuine prayer of the quickened heart, but is a means of inspiring it ; I shall readily allow that it is an obstruc- tion of formal prayer, which a man may engage in as soon as he opens the book where the let- ter of the prayer is penned or printed for him. And we are not desirous that it should be 241 otherwise : for what will a life spent in such prayer, without the other, avail a man at last ? Do not people say and hear such prayers hun- dreds of times, and yet remain, as to the fear and love ofthe Almighty, just what they were ? Why else at this day is the Christian world filled with violence? Even priests in their collects repeatedly pray for the guidance of the Holy Spirit; and yet many of them almost deny that it is now to be expected, and make us heretics for asserting the contrary." Xu Some Observations on searching into divine Mysteries,* " It is certain that in speaking, and even in thinking, on the attributes and relations of the Deity, the utmost caution and circumspection are necessary ; and this caution and circum- spection have, I think, in no writings been more attended to than in those of Friends. It is very possible that while people are disputing with great warmth and zeal, about the rank of their Master, they may be quite inattentive to his obvious commands, and their own obvious duty. * An Examination, &c. p. 36. R 242 " This however seems to have been the gene- ral rule of our friends with respect to doctrine : what they have found in Scripture, they have for that reason, admitted. If in any case, it has proved incomprehensible to human under- standing*, they have not, on one hand, attempt- ed to fathom the depth by reasoning ; nor, on the other, have they dared to reject what they could not fathom. Both these are repugnant to the idea of faith ; and faith is certainly held out in Scripture to be a prime requisite of the Christian religion. The wise mean seems to be, to suffer the mind to remain in modest and reverent indecision, till further discovery be made, or till it can feel more disposition to be satisfied, and unite with those sublime myste- ries which the Scripture offers for its contem- plation. I w ould add that in this case too the example of the apostles is worthy of our imi- tation. 'Lord,' said they, * increase our faith.' If we believe that Christ is the Author of faith, and that there is an inward and spiritual com- munication between Him and His followers, both of which I think we must believe, if we are Quakers, so called ; such an application seems but a reasonable use of the privilege, 243 with wliicli we apprehend mankind are en- dowed. " As to the probability of adding to our stature of knowledge in divine thino^s by much toiling, I rather wish to discourage such an expectation. It is good to be constantly aware that there are truths, relating to heavenly and infinite things, that are above the reach of our finite faculties. It is probable that the Scrip- tures, which treat largely of heavenly things, should now and then hint at such truths. If we receive them as they are there opened, and no further, they will serve among other things to convince us that we see but in part, and know but in part ; and thus probably increase our stock of humility, which is one of the bonds of society. But if we determine to know how every thing there spoken of exists, and its positive relation to the whole; or failing in this, to deny any thing to be as it is there re- presented, we shall probably grow conceited of our achievements; and a pride and self-ap- probation will be nourished, which ill accord with that state in which we are exhorted ' to esteem others better than ourselves.' At the same time, the head being employed in R 2 244 speculation, the heart is omitting its indispen- sable work of subjection." XL On Tithes* The following piece is extracted from a short reply to some printed animadversions upon the conduct of Friends. It is hoped that the reader will bear in mind, that the drift of the argument applies to an ecclesiastical establish- ment, set up and supported by the civil power, and not to those who may act as ministers in a church so established. " There is one foundation and corner-stone of the testimony of Friends against a hireling- ministry, in which it immeasurably differs from every other testimony and scruple which they hold; namely, that such a ministry is the effect of man's pretending to interfere between the soul and its Creator ; an evil so much the more destructive, as it is robed with the sem- blance of religion; and to expose which, as it was the first concern of the primitive Friends, * Reply to Catholicus, p. 1 2. 245 so it seems to have been the prominent purpose of Providence in raising up the Society to be a people. It is not, therefore, matter of sur- prise, to a mind accustomed to search things to the bottom, that this particular evil of forced ecclesiastical demands, should have been sin- gled out as the peculiar object of the Society's aversion, because they are for the support of an institution, namely, a worldly priesthood, which has contributed more than any thing else to the undermining of genuine Christianity; which, in every country where reformation has in some degree taken place, has obstructed its progress ; and which is in perpetual opposition to the truly catholic principles of the Society of Friends ; from the knowledge that their general prevalence must effect its overthrow. " Religion is the province of Him alone who is the object of it : in religion, therefore, Friends are not only dissenters from the esta- blished church, but from every government in the world, whether republican, aristocratic, or monarchical, that in the least assumes the power of directing the conscience, and of en- forcing, by positive or negative penalties, a compliance with its own forms. Hence, how- 246 ever proper or improper may be their general compliance with those demands of government, which are for its support in the administration of the affairs of this world, it can be no plea for their being also active in supporting it in an assumed dominion over the consciences of men ; and, if no plea, the charge of incon- sistency for doing one and omitting the other falls at once to the ground, and the Society is happily delivered from either horn of the mon- ster, Dilemma.'' XII. So7ne Remarl's on the Account of the Quakers y in Pinkerton's " Modern Geography. ^^ " I am inclined to offer a few remarks on the short notice of the religious Society of Friends, commonly called Quakers, in Pinker- ton's ' Modern Geography.' '' It is a circumstance which demands ac- knowledgment, that he has deviated from the track of some of his predecessors, and has not copied the calumnies respecting us, which abound in books intended for general informa- lion. But the Society is indebted to him for more than negative justice ; he has represented 217 it to his readers as a benevolent Christian people. These are his words : "^A philosopher may well envy the mild creed and universal charity, or fraternal love, of the Quakers; whilst he must allow, with a sigh, that a nation of Quakers could not exist, unless all nations were of the same persua- sion.' " The regret expressed in the latter part of this account has touched me not a little. It seems sorrowful that it should be an established fact, that charity and fraternal love, and such as practise them, cannot subsist in the world. Alas, for the world, in that case ! His eiilo- giura on the Friends is a severe satire on its nations. " I am afraid we have yet little need to concern ourselves about the safety of a nation of Quakers. Their countrymen are too little disposed to submit to the restraints of conduct necessary to be admitted of their number; and many who enjoy, what I call, that privilege, by birthright, seem too much disposed to shake off those restraints, and to mingle gradually with the crowd of such as forget the interests of a 248 future life, in the cares or pleasures of the present* '' But it is necessary for our argument to suppose the improbable supposition of a nation of Quakers realized. Such a nation would, indeed, form a new and singular phaenomenon ; but I am far from sure that it would naturally contain the seeds of its own destruction ; and so long as it should last, it would be a standing refutation of the conclusion of our geographer. When, however, I speak of a nation of Quakers, I do not simply mean a nation which has laid aside the use of arms, and at the same time is indulging itself in luxury, avarice, and many other evils. If we are to portray a nation of Quakers, we must suppose it com- posed of true Quakers ; for so far as in any respect, the people degenerate into vice and immorality, so far they recede from true Quakerism ; and then their sins, sooner or later, contribute to their overthrow. But this is not imputable to their piety, harmless- ness, and charity. *^ I shall require [the objector] to people our ideal land with men steadfastly fearing and lov- ing God, and believing in Christ and the Christ- 249 iaii dispensation, as revealed in the New Testa- ment ; and studious to approve themselves to their Master, by conformity to His laws. Of the more distinguishing tenet of our Society, the immediate teachings of His Light in the conscience, I need not here enlarge. It is enough for my argument that they are, gene- rally speaking, seeking to know, and diligent to do, the will of Christ. '^ Before I proceed, I must assume the reason for supposing that a nation, like that I have described, must be a prey to its neigh- bours, Pinkerton has not himself announced it ; but I think it can be no other than the disuse of arms. It is no less lamentable than true, that among mankind in general, at least, among those who conduct governments, there is a propensity to war. They seem to think their character scarcely complete, unless it have a portion of the military one ; and glory in opportunities of displaying it in the field. I am apt to think, that in the attempts to settle and adjust the differences which naturally arise about worldly interests, this national spirit, as it is called, has prevented a friendly issue to numerous negociations ^ and has thus, 250 really occasioned many of the wars, which ren- der the history of mankind a history of human folly and distress. Now this lofty sense of honour (as it is usually termed) has no place in a true Christian people. They reject, as Christ has taught them, the practice of receiving honour from men ; because they find, according to His doctrine, that it stands in the way of their belief in Him. For this spirit of conten- tion, they have adopted His meek and quiet spirit, by which means half the occasions of war are cut away at once. And even, sup- posing that there was not (which, however, will not, I think, be asserted) that fondness for contest which so many nations have shown, still, even upon the notion of what is some- times called necessary war, there must be an aggressing, and an aggrieved party. In the former of these characters, our Iamb-like nation could never appear. It only, therefore, remains for us to inquire how it would act, so as to be preserved from the danger of an unjust and oppressive enemy. " It is observable in the province of nature, that such animals as are destitute of weapons of offence, are generally furnished with some 251 appropriate means of security. Thus I apprc^ hend, it would be with our innocent citizens. Knowing the difficulty they would find in quar- rels, they would take more care than is com- monly taken, to keep out of them. In their dealings with other nations, they would act less hy the narrow scale of enriching and ag- grandizing their own, than nations commonly do. They would transfuse, even into their commerce, a portion of the spirit of Christ- ianity; and think that the way to let their light shine before men would be full as much by doing works of justice, as by talking about doctrine. And I think it is not over-rating the value of such a conduct to suppose that, if they could, by such means (and as they are the means of Christ's appointment, they must be efficacious), induce their neighbours to glority their Father who is in heaven, they would be so far from danger of harm, that they would become the delight of mankind ; and probably set the anvils of other countries to work in the blessed transmutation of spears to pruning- hooks. " Thus far I have endeavoured to show only from the natural deduction of effects from 252 causes, that a nation of genuine, upright Quakers might subsist in safety ; but as I am not bound to rest my opinion wholly on such arguments, I will proceed to another, which cannot be rejected, when we are speaking of religious matters. If we grant, as we must, that our ideal people have for the spring of their action, a true living faith that it is their duty to the Almighty so to act, they will con- sequently have an unshaken faith in His protec- tion. This is no more than His commands enjoin, and the example of His people in former ages warrants. So that I should not strain an expression, if 1 were to say, that such a nation would be sure of the protection of Providence ; and satisfied with the manner and the propor- tion in which it should be extended." POETICAL ESSAYS, written by J.G, Bevan, 1. Imitation of Psalm C^^h To hills and mountains shall I look : From them expecting aid ? No. From the Lord assistance comes, Who earth, who heaven, hath made. He shall forbid thy foot to slide, No slumbers seal his sight ; For Israel's Guardian's watchful eye Can chase the mist of night. And Israel's Guardian too is thine ; Seek his paternal shade ; So neither shall the beaming sun, Nor moon, thy health invade. 254: The Lord, from ills of ev'ry kind, His servant will protect ; Keeping thy soul for ever pure. From vice's foul defect. Thy goings forth and comings in (Though fears thy steps attend) Henceforward will the Lord preserve, And endless succour send. 2. Imitation of Psalm CXXX. Out of the depths, to thee, O Lord! Thy prostrate servant cried ; Lord, hear my voice, nor let my pray'r For mercy, be denied. If thou iniquities shouldst mark, Who, then, O Lord! shall stand ? But, that thou mayst be fear'd, Behold ! Forgiveness in thy hand. I wait, my soul awaits the Lord, More than the morning ray ; My hope is in His quick'ning word, More than in orient day. 255 Still in the I^rd let Israel hope, For mercies crown His throne, Aud plentiful redemption flows From Him, and Him alone. Enthrall'd by sins, his greatest foes, To Israel thus redemption flows. S. Imitatmi of Psalm CXL VI. Praise ye the Lord : and thou my soul. Whilst future years successive roll, Existing thro' unnumber'd days, Lift to thy God the voice of praise. O sons of men ! repose no trust In kings, your partners in the dust. From man expect no certain aid ; His breath goes forth, his eye-balls fade ; To native clay his frame's consign'd : Then cease the labours of his mind. But, blest supremely shall thou be, Who to the Lord for help shalt flee ; AVhom Israel's watchful Shepherd guards ; Whose faith His bounteous Hand rewards. 25G lie hcav'n, and earth, and ocean's spread, And all their num'rous hosts hath made. Eternal truth adorns His throne ; He hears th' oppressed captive's groan. From Him the hungry food obtain, And pris'ners, liberty regain. Jehovah gives the blind to see, And turns to strength the tott'ring knee ; His love His righteous servants share, And strangers, His protecting care. He sooths the sorrowing widow's grief. And to her orphans sends relief j But plants confusion in the way Of such as from His counsel stray. For ever shall Jehovah rule : Ne'er Zion, may thy fervours cool ! But still, responsive to His word. Sing the glad strain, Praise ye the Lord. 4. Imitations of two Christian Sonnets written in French^ hy Drelincourt, Go^ mortal, range the world from pole to pole. Still nought but vanity thy search shall find ', Subject to disappoinment is the whole ; Nought there can satisfy the famish'd mind. 257 Of the mere worldling, see the heartfelt pain ; See the crown's weight oppress the monarch's brow; See the pale miser tremble o'er his gain ; See bitter ends to sweetest joys below. In vain, alas ! we seek with anxious eye, For perfect happiness beneath the sky ; In vain our minds to pleasure we resign ; For, oh ! to satisfy th' immortal part, And fill, with joy sincere, the craving heart. No pow'f suffices, short of Love divine. Proceed wise Gentiles, your rich presents bring ; For this conducting star will guide your way. To the low palace of an infant King, Whom all mankind should honour and obey. And, should low-thoughted cares arrest your speed, What care, what object, should with Jesus vie ? Tho' tears his tender cheek may overspread, Paternal glories glisten in his eye. 258 To Him, your King, be then your off'rings made, To Him, your oriental wealth display'd, Your gold, your myrrh, Arabia's balmy store : And tho' your off'rings his acceptance find. Yet, when his grace inspires the humbled mind, Love, innocence, and faith still please him more. 6, Integer viice, scelerisque purus, Sfc, Uoii. How privileg'd, the pure in heart ! The bow, and its envenom'd dart. They seek not, in their life's defence, Confiding in Omnipotence ; Whether in Afric's gleams they glow, Or shudder 'midst Canadian snow ; Visit of Nile the secret source, Or wind along Ohio's course. Once, as I took my ev'ning way, A panther mark'd me for his prey ; And crept along the dewy ground. Preparing the rapacious bound. Thus do the lion's eye-balls glare. Whom hunger, from his Lybian lair, Impels to blood : on Ganges' plain, Thus bounds the tyger on the swain. §59 The secret pray'r to heav'n I rais'd, And steadfast on the monster gaz'd : The monster's rage kind heaven represt, And fiird with gratitude my breast. Place me amidst those parched plains, Where nought the Samiel's blast sustains Or where the short'ning Arctic day Deplores Hyperion's distant ray ; Still shall my soul in Him confide, Whose help in danger oft I've tried : His cheering smiles and cheering word, Salvation to my path afford. 7. Written for the Almanack published by James Phillips^ 1794, Another opening year we reach, Let passing seasons wisdom teach. In future, let us learn to fear The snares that caught the former year : And keep ah unremitting watch, That fresh allurements do not catch. Thus, if we reach its closing hours, May peace and gratitude be ours. s2 260 8. For the same. 1795. Again compose the moral lay, Review the passing year ; And, what successive seasons say. Instructed let us hear. Fair Spring receives the genial show'rs, Within her fertile breast, And, in her meadows fraught with flow'rs, The bounty stands confest. Fervent and fruitful Summer days Succeed to flow'ry Spring : And, next, those treasures claim our praise Which sheafy Autumns bring. Last, icy Winter, dark and grave, Earth's beauty may destroy ; But, what tlie former seasons gave, 'Tis Winter's to enjoy. Thus, in the vernal hours of youth. Let innocence proclaim The mind impressed with sacred truth, And holiness its aim. 261 And let maturer days produce The fruits of heav'nly love, Meet for the bounteous Master's use, And ev'ry day improve. Then from celestial windows, He His blessing down shall pour ; That full, declining years shall be Of soul-enriching store. And hoary age^s winter days, Of mercies past may sing ; And, closing with the note of praise. Set in eternal Spring. 9. For tue same, 1796. Thoughts for a dosing Year, Thus, with its silent lapse, again Another year is past ; But shall time pass along in vain, Which glides away so fast ? Let conscience hold her mirror true, Our conduct to display ; Then let our retrospective view The traveird space survey. 26^ And, should we the sad prospect find DeformM with folly's stain, jMay sorrow, in the humbled mind. And true repentance reign : So self-abasement shall prevail. And cries for saving strength ; Thus, where our hearts were wont to fail, We may o'ercome at length. If adverse days our souls have known, And conflicts dire have prov'd; Our little faith just overthrown. And our foundations mov'd ; Who knows but all this conflict dire May be our needful food ; Deeper humility inspire, And work transcendant good ? But, if with holy sunshine crown'd, In peace our months have sped j Our secret aspirations own'd, And our accuser fled ; What gratitude should then be felt, For this protecting grace ; How our adoring hearts should melt In reverence and praise I 263 The mental, or the vocal, cry. In faith, may now be pour'd, " For all Thy bounties, what shall I Return to Thee, O Lord I" 10. For the same. 1798.* See how another fluctuating year Hath nearly ebb'd his days out ; and reflect IIow many myriads, in this tide of time. Have burst their earthly bonds. Kow fare they notv ? Ah ! nought avails them now, that they pursued, Borne on the wings of wealth, their envied course, Thro' the probationary days of life ; Nor aught aff'ects them now, tho' the chill hand Of abject penury repress'd their flight ; Save as they learn'd to estimate the lot, Which all-discerning Providence bestow'd. As giv'n for their improvement, and His praise Who will'd it : in each state alike content. O ! ye who still exult in prosperous gales. Untried by the adversities that press Your ellow tenants of the gift of life, * For 1797, see page 39. 264^ With trembling notes rejoice : and call to mind Tliat sentence of the undeceiving Lip ; ^' Where much is giv'n, much too will be requir'd :" Much good example, much humility. And due devotion to the Giver's cause. So may your better stores be filled Avith plenty. And with celestial wine your presses teem. And, O, ye children of affliction ! know, Yours is no despicable lot. Ev'n He Who died that ye may live, that ye may reign, Embraced affliction, and conversed with grief; A servant's form assum'd, tho' Lord of all ; And led to glory, thro' a sufif'ring path. Oh ! if ye wish to share His kingdom's bliss, See that a portion of His patient mind Be yours. Let no repinings pass your lips, Or even enter your well-guarded thoughts ; But take the cup His sov'reign wisdom gives. And say, or strive to say, " Thy will be done." Each standing thus in his allotment true, No matter whether, ere again the globe Shall travel thro' her orbit, or, long hence, He join the annual myriads which escape From earthly bonds ; safe in His hand who gave To all the vital breath ; and best can tell When to revoke the temporary boon, And the unfading treasure to bestow. 265 11. On a pleasant Path^ through a pleasant Counfri/y at a pleasant Season, If, trav'ller, m dull apathy, thou stray. Blind to the beauties of the rural way, Rouse from thy lethargy, and leara to prize The pleasures Provideuce for man supplies. Shall nature's Author decorate the plain. For thy delight, and decorate in vain ? Forbid the thought ; enjoy the bounty giv'n, And thus co-operate with bounteous Heav'n. And thou, o'er whom affliction's ruthless hand Hath shed the terrors of her ebon wand ; Whose feeling mind, with sable grief opprest, Cannot, ev'n in these calm retreats, find rest ; Yet pause ; and, whilst thy languid eye surveys The fair expanse, attempt the Maker's praise. Behold the feather'd race : for, of them all. None can, without the heavenly Father, fall. How then art thou pro tected ? Quit thy care ; Confide in Him who numbers ev'ry hair ; And join the mute, and join the vocal, train, To celebrate the glories of His reign. And ye, whose youthful breasts, from sorrow free, Prink rapture from the vernal charms ye see j '266 Rest not content the workmanship t' admire. But to still greater, purer, joys aspire. These beauteous forms, that deck our seats below, Are, of His palace, but the portico. Then "• knock," in faith, with filial duty bold, And strive th' interior splendours to behold. Enter His blissful courts, and, ent'ring, raise The voice of adoration, love, and praise. Thus, may the beauties of the rural shade The dull enliven, and relieve the sad ; And urge th' ingenuous mind of fervent youth Early to purchase soul-enriching Truth. May all, their wand'rings and their failings past. Unite in rev'rence here, and bliss at last ! And may this heart, with gratitude expand ; Own the Creator in His forming hand ; Repress the rising wish for empty praise, And dedicate to usefulness its lays; Content, if, by the lay's persuasive charm, One kindred bosom Love Celestial warm ! 26T nescis'^ C discis > nihil est si ccetera < discis ^ (. nescis. PARAPHRASED. 12. 5*/ Christum ^ > nihil est si ccetera -{ 'is\ Let the bright beams of Science shed Their choicest influence o'er thy head ; And let the classic page impart Its raptures (o thy glowing heart; If Clirist, thy Lord, thou do not know, Wretched and ignorant art thou. 'O' But though, to thee, her beaming ray Fair science deigns not to display ; And, though thy heart has never glowed With warmth, by classic page bestowed ; Still, if thy Saviour, Christ, thou know, Happy, and learned, and wise, art thou. 13, u4 Prayer in Distress, Conflict and fear possess my soul, Hope almost fails in me : Let them not rage without restraint ; But drive my soul to Thee. 268 When Thy inspired servant pray'd That Thou wouldst set him free, From the sharp thorn that gall'd his side, And urg'd his pray'r to Thee, How strength'ning \ta5 Thy holy word. In answer to his plea For thy supporting pow'r ! — ^' My grace Sufficient is for thee." And sure Thy meaner suppliant now, Abased though he be. Hath thorns which goad his very soul. — He begs relief from Thee. Look down in pity ; from my fears, In mercy, set me fiee ; And let me prove Thy saving grace Sufficient : ev'n for me I ^9 A LIST Of the principal Publications o/J^G.Befa n. 1. "A Refutation of some of the more modern Misrepresentations of the Society of Friends, commonly called Quakers ; with a Life of James Nayler; also a Summary of the History, Doctrine, and Discipline of Friends." 8vo. J800. 124 pages. The authors whose writings are here no- ticed, are Mosheim, Formey, Hume, the Editors of the Encyclopaedia Britannica who quoted much from Lesley, and Wesley. 2. " An Examination of the first Part of a Pamphlet, called, ' An Appeal to the Society of Friends.' " Svo. 1802. 38 pages. The design of this is, by an examination of the quotations in the work to which it is an answer, and of the writings of our early friends, to show that they were not Unitarians in that which is now a very general acceptation of tlie term. 270 3. " A Short Account of the liife and Writings of Robert Barclay." ]8mo. 1802. 127 pages. 4. ^' Thoughts on Reason and Revelation, particularly the Revelation of the Scrip- tures." Svo. 1805. 23 pages. This publication, small as it is, is di- vided into sections on the following subjects : Reason, Revelation in general. Infidelity, Scrip- ture, Faith, and Experience. 5. " Memoirs of the Life of Isaac Penington, to which is added a Review of his Writings.'' 1807. Svo. 272 pages. 6. " Memoirs of the Life, and Travels in the service of the Gospel, of Sarah Ste- phenson," chiefly from her own papers. 1807. Svo. 204 pages. 7. " A Reply to so much of a Sermon pub- lished in the course of last year, by Philip Dodd, as relates to the well- known scruple of the Society of Friends, commonly called Quakers, against all Swearing." 1808. Svo. 23 pages. 8. " Piety Promoted, in brief memorials and dying expressions of some of the Society 271 of Friends, commonly called Quakers : the Tenth Part." 1811. 12mo. 320 pages. 2d edition. " The Life of the apostle Paul, as related in Scripture, but in which his Epistles are inserted in that part of the History to which they are supposed respectively to belong; with select Notes, critical, explanatory, and relating to Persons and Places." The 2d edition, corrected and enlarged. 1811. 8vo. 427 pages. W^ Phillips, Printer, Georgf Yard, Lombard Street, London, This book is due two weeks from the last date stamped below, and if not returned at or before that time a fine of five cents a day will be incurred. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY JMMI, 0035522151 93896 3^^^ 358 -Sfc B^fe§ BRITTLE DO wd'