I am, &c.
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September 17.
Dear Sir,
HOW shall I find words to thank you for your sweet expressions of care and friendship for my soul? Ten thousand thousand blessings on your own for this kindness.——I hope I may in one sense say, that my soul prospers, because I desire nothing but that the will of God may be done in me and by me. But I have not at present those overflowings of joy I have at some times experienced: the cries of a sickly infant, which touch all the finest springs of human nature, cast a kind of heaviness over my soul: and the perpetual and strict watch I am obliged to keep over my heart, for fear the least murmuring or complaining thought should arise in it, (which I would rather die than suffer) seem rather to restrain my soul from the glorious freedom she once had, of losing herself in the heights and depths of divine love.—Oh blessed hours of abstraction from all creatures, and joyful communion with the fountain and centre of all happiness, when will ye return? When it is the will of my heavenly Father that you should return; and in that divine will I rest contented, willing, nay pleased, to suffer any thing, every thing, so I may be kept from sin. I have lately had inward temptations, buzzing about my mind, like insects in a summer’s day; but, by looking to Jesus, I as easily disperse them, as the waving hand disperses those little troublesome animals: and, thanks to my Redeemer’s boundless mercy, I still enjoy in my inmost soul, a peace, which I would not lose for millions of worlds. But I greatly want constant recollection, and a mortified humble spirit. You know the weight your words have with me; give me, I beg of you, some directions for obtaining this. I cannot take my leave, without thanking you again and again, for enquiring after my soul: Oh how dearly do I love you for this goodness; may the tender mercies of God be with you! May the eternal Comforter meet and bless you in every word of your tongue, and in every thought of your heart!
Your ever-grateful and affectionate,
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February 28.