To the Countess of D——.
Plymouth, Feb. 22, 1749.
Honoured Madam,
YESTERDAY I had the favour of your Ladyship’s letter, which I would have answered immediately, but was engaged both in company, and in preaching the everlasting gospel. Your Ladyship’s answering my poor scrawl, was an honour I did not expect; but, since your Ladyship is pleased thus to condescend, I am encouraged to make a reply. And give me leave to assure your Ladyship, that your own case, and that of your honoured sisters, have been, and are always upon my heart. I pray for both in public and private, though none knows whom I mean. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, I trust, hath imparted a saving knowledge of his eternal Son to your Ladyship’s heart. Your letter bespeaks the language of a soul which hath tasted that the Lord is gracious, and hath been initiated into the divine life. Welcome, thrice welcome, honoured Madam, into the world of new creatures! O what a scene of happiness lies before you! Your frames, my Lady, like the moon, will wax and wane; but the Lord Jesus, on whose righteousness you solely depend, will, notwithstanding, remain your faithful friend in heaven. Your Ladyship seems to have the right point in view, to get a constant abiding witness and indwelling of the blessed Spirit of God in your heart. This the Redeemer has purchased for you. Of this he has given your Ladyship a taste; this, I am persuaded, he will yet impart so plentifully to your heart, that out of it shall flow rivers of living waters. This Jesus spake of the Spirit, which they that believe on him should receive. As you have, therefore, honoured Madam, received the Lord Jesus, so walk in him even by faith. Lean on your beloved, and you shall go on comfortably through this howling wilderness, till you arrive at those blissful regions,
Where pain, and sin, and sorrow cease,
And all is calm, and joy, and peace.
And O that your honoured sister may go hand in hand with your Ladyship! Wherefore doth she doubt? Wherefore doth she fear? Why does not her Ladyship say,
To the blest fountain of thy blood,
Incarnate God, I fly;
Here let me wash my spotted soul,