My dear Friend,
HOW does love meet love! Your long expected letter came last night, and as the box of books hath been gone some days, I answer you before day this morning. My dear friend, good-morrow! Blessed be God, that the day dawns, and that the day-star hath risen in your heart. May the Redeemer give you a Benjamin’s mess every hour! He is our great Joseph, and loves to say to his guilty brethren, “Come near me.” Out of his fulness we may all receive even grace for grace. O how does he continually watch over us for good! I thought the obstructions that lay in my way to York, were not for nothing. Our times are in our Lord’s hands. We are immortal till our work is done. This, this shall be the cry of my soul:
Lord, at thy command I’ll go,
And to the world will gladly tell,
That they a risen Christ may know,
That they the love of Christ may feel.
Assured of such a bidding, we may say with Luther, “If there was as many devils lying in wait, as there are tiles on the houses, we need not fear.” Who knows but in Spring we may have a fair field fight? We can do all things through Christ strengthening us. Methinks I long to range in your parts, and come to Leeds again. The persons mentioned need not bid me to remember them. I cannot forget either them or you night or day. O that we may make some large advances in the divine life, before we see each other. When will that be? Perhaps in Spring; perhaps not till we meet in heaven.
There we shall see Christ’s face,
and never, never sin;
There, from the riches of his grace,