Wednesday Night, February 13, 1754.
A COLD has been the means of preventing me from spending the evening in the trifling manner which you, my dear friend, have been forced to do; though I cannot but hope that your mind, in the midst of all this noise and nonsense, has been enabled to keep itself in a state of recollection; and that you are still more fully convinced that all, the world calls pleasure and gaiety, is mere vanity and vexation of spirit.—I thank you for your letter; it has given me great satisfaction, and fresh cause to praise God on your account: I rejoice in your joy, and may our gracious and kind Redeemer increase and establish your joy and peace in believing! You have indeed the utmost reason to be thankful, that such a work of mercy has been begun in your soul; and fear not but that blessed spirit who has convinced you of sin, and led you to look to the only means of deliverance, will perfect the work he has begun! What a happy sign, that you can already lay hold on, and apply the promises to yourself? O continue instant in prayer, for still greater degrees of faith; and shun as you would the most deadly poison, every action, word, and thought, which is contrary to the Spirit of God! And always reflect with the most thankful heart on the love of Christ to your soul. Think that our merciful Saviour is more ready to hear than we to pray. Think with what joy the father received the returning prodigal, and be assured that you and I, and every returning sinner, will be received with the same joy, cloathed with the same glorious robes, and admitted to sit down at the same feast, even the marriage-supper of the Lamb!
I am, with the utmost tenderness,
Your ever-affectionate and faithful Friend,
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Wednesday Night, March 20, 1754.
*My dear Friend,
I AM rejoiced, and bless God that your mind was in so happy a state, while your body was in the midst of folly and confusion. You observe very justly, that those diversions are absolutely unfit for one who is seeking salvation. Nothing indeed can be more contrary to the spirit of the gospel, than what the world calls polite amusements. What can be more absurd than for one who desires to be a Christian, who desires the mind which was in Christ, who desires that justification by faith, which alone can produce in the heart true humility and meekness, deadness to the world, constant resignation to God, and fervent desire to do his will: than for such a person (in all the extravagance and glare of dress) to be swimming or skipping about a room, and wishing to draw the attention and admiration of the most vile and profligate part of the human species? What absurdity for such a person as this to sit in that house, which is as much devoted to the devil as the church is to God, for three hours together, to hear obscenities, at which a virtuous Heathen would have blushed?—If you ask twenty of the people who do these things, whether they are Christians, nineteen of them will answer, they are Christians to be sure! What do you think of them? Or if they are not now quite so good as they ought to be, they hope to be better by and by! But can a soul which truly seeks after salvation do these things? No certainly. And when the Spirit of God has wrought in a soul this hatred of the vanities it used to delight in, it has reason to rejoice indeed. What greater mark of the love of God to us, than his having thus drawn us to delight in himself? If we love a friend, we desire and strive that this friend may return our love, and joy and delight in us: and, amazing condescension! will the Creator of all things visible and invisible, the God who called angels and archangels into being, thus deal with us poor sinful worms? What heart can withstand such love? What heart but must at this thought sink into the dust, and lose itself in wonder, joy, and adoration? I have time for no more. Adieu.
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