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It is to me at times a most pleasing reflection that I shall by and by not only be delivered "from this body of sin and death," but that this "vile body" will be changed into the likeness of Christ's "glorious body," and then be for ever with the Lord. And these are my present prospects, nor can the devil now put me to shame "in this confident boasting;" but perhaps he will by the time this letter reaches England, for I am like a reed shaken with the wind when under a cloud; and I evidently find that my attempts to resist Satan in my own strength will

"No more avail than breath against the wind,

Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth."-MILTON. I am free to confess that it requires the arm of God to support and keep me from falling in an evil day. And while many are looking to themselves, and more or less resting on and admiring their own performances, I am obliged wholly to look out of self, and to renounce all confidence in the flesh, and relinquish all hopes of being saved by the deeds of the law, and of being heard and answered, blessed and indulged, smiled upon and beloved, on account of any merit, worth, or worthiness, performed by or found in me. If other persons have whereof to glory in themselves before God, I have not, nor do I ever expect to have. These things were, I trust, "purged from me by the Spirit of judgment and by the Spirit of burning," when God as "a swift witness came near to me to judgment," and sat before me as "a Refiner and Purifier of silver." And I am persuaded that the man who hears God's voice in his holy law, and receives the spiritual contents of that law in his conscience, will be afraid, and will tremble; his lips will quiver, rottenness will enter into his bones, his beauty will consume away like a moth, and he will cry out in his affliction with David, and say, "O Lord, thine arrows stick fast in me, and thine hand presseth me sore. There is no soundness in my flesh, because of thine anger; neither is there any rest in my bones, because of my sin; for mine iniquities are gone over my head; as a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me. My wounds stink, and are corrupt, because of my foolishness. I am troubled; I am bowed down greatly. I go mourning all the day long; for my loins are filled with a loathsome disease, and there is no soundness in my flesh. I am feeble and sore broken. I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart." And by the time this process is over, the man will not be able to find anything in himself whereof he may glory before God, but will be ready with Paul to say, "In me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing."

This, my dear Sir, is the point, the grand culminating point to which men must come before they will feel disposed to give up all confidence in the flesh, and before they will be able to see the beauty, the worth, the charms and glories that there are in our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. And when men are brought here, the gospel is opened up to their view, and they are enabled to realize their interest in the same; Christ becomes their boast, their glory, their song, their theme, and their all. And, as God has brought me here, "of whom," as David says, "should I be afraid?" and why

should I put myself to any trouble in order to gain the applause of fellow-mortals, whose breath is in their nostrils, and whose praise is like the morning cloud and the early dew that pass away?

I am ready to acknowledge (and God knows that I lie not) that I have found more real peace, comfort, and divine consolation, in the space of one hour, communing with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ, in my closet, at midnight, than ever I have found, or ever expect to find in the approbation and applause of saints or angels. And to this day I can say of communion and fellowship with Father, Son, and Spirit, what David once said of the sword of the great Goliath, of Gath, "There is none like that; give it me." (1 Sam. xxi. 9.) In the exercise of prayer, when spiritually performed, there is a yielding of all up to God, and a bowing down of the soul before the Majesty of heaven, and a creeping into the bosom of the Saviour of sinners, and drinking a large quantum of divinity at one draught. At this blessed employment my worthless soul has spent many a happy hour, both by day and by night, and when none but God and myself have been privy to this most mysterious intercourse. And to the present moment no person knows so much of these secret' matters between God and my soul as does my highly esteemed and greatly beloved George Arrowsmith, of New York city, with whom you as well as I correspond. To him I have communicated many of the dealings of God with my soul, and have found a pleasure in so doing. We also have more than once visited those secret places in the fields and woods where the God of Jacob, thirteen and fourteen years ago, seemed to rend the heavens in order to visit my soul, and to communicate such things to me as I shall never be able fairly and fully to divulge while here on earth. And the name of the place I call "Patmos" to this day.

I meet with but very little of this kind of religion among men in my travelling about this vast continent; and what you see of it in the old country is not for me to say; but, if I may judge of this matter by what I see and hear from those I meet with who have within these few years arrived in this country from among you, I cannot persuade myself that you are so far above us as to make it worth my while to visit the place of my nativity with a view of seeing more of the works of the Lord in that land, and of his wonders among the people. We here, however, have but little more than the sepulchre, the napkin, and the linen clothes. The substance is gone, and we are amusing ourselves with the shell, the shadow, a great noise, an outside show, another gospel, lip-service, a false light, and a blind zeal.

When I say that I meet with but little real religion among the sons of men as I travel from state to state, it implies that I meet with some that love and fear God; which implication is true, and as such I wish you to receive it. Blessed be God, that he hath not left the earth without a witness! but, amidst the dreadful corruptions of our times, and the great dearth which is come upon us, and among the vast swarms of carnal preachers and graceless professors, the Lord reserves a few to himself, who are lovers of divine truth, and con

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tenders for the same. It appears plain, from scripture and experience, that the Lord will seek out his own sheep, and pardon those whom he reserves; and as he pardons them, so he will carefully watch over them; and as he watches over them, so he at last will save them with an everlasting salvation. And these, whoever they are, or wherever they are, constitute the spiritual Israel of God; and they are called a remnant, a seed, a tenth, a nation, a chosen generation, and a royal priesthood.

But there is a large company of professors of religion in the world who pertain to another tribe, and are defined by an inspired penman thus: "Hypocritical mockers, time-servers, men-pleasers, will-worshippers, vain janglers, disputers about the law, having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof;" and from all such we are told to turn away.

I, Sir, have a fair opportunity of seeing the various movements and positions which these carnal Israelites take, travelling so extensively as 1 do. My circle of acquaintance also is vastly large, and my correspondents very numerous; all which tends to increase my knowledge of this lamentable subject. And from the observations which I have made on men and things, and from the information which I have received from different quarters of the world, together with what I can gather from the word of God concerning the present state of the church, I clearly see, and certainly know, and now positively declare the same to you, that corruptions of a frightful kind, and darkness to an alarming degree, have crept in, and are still creeping in and increasing upon us; and that the present great outcry, noise, and bustle, which are made about religion, about the prosperity of Zion, about the great spread of the gospel, and the increase of spiritual light, I believe in my soul are a mere Satanic cheat; and when I consider what sort of preaching passes for the gospel, and what kind of preachers pass for ministers of the Lord, and what sort of professors pass for Christians, and what kind of religion passes for the religion of Jesus Christ, I am as much confirmed in this belief as I am in my own personal existence. And were I to lay before you, as I could, a minute detail of these things, you perhaps would cry out, and say,. "Is this the city that men call The perfection of beauty, The joy of the whole earth?" (Lam. ii. 15.)

(To be continued.)

LUMBER LANE.

My dear Friend, I should be sorry if my delay in replying to your letter should seem on my part a mark of neglect or of coldness. Most of my hindrances in answering the letters of my friends arise not from them, but from myself. But were I to enumerate all the obstacles that daily and well nigh hourly occur from that moving mass of carnality and helplessness which I carry about with me, and under the load of which I often groan, being burdened, my letter would be all preface, and, like some sermons that I have heard, consist almost wholly of introduction.

It seems scarcely possible for me to tell you how unlike I am every thing I wish to be, and how like to everything which I wish not to be. I would be spiritually minded, would read the word of God with delight, would approach the mercy-seat with freedom of access, would look back upon the past without sorrow, and to the future without apprehension. I would never throughout the day forget, "Thou, God, seest me;" I would not occupy nor interest my mind in anything earthly, sensual, or devilish; I would be continually fixing my eyes on the cross of Immanuel, and be living upon his grace as freely, sensibly, lovingly, and savingly revealed. This is what I would wish to be. And as to what I would wish not to be: I would not be a miserable idolater, roving and roaming after some dunghill god, nor a wild ass of the desert snuffing up the wind, nor a peevish rebel, nor a sullen self-seeker, nor a suspecting infidel. If not all these in open, daring, unchecked practice, I am it all in inward bent and wretched feeling: A friend of mine brought me word the other day that some of the Bedfordshire Calvinists had spread a report that I was turned Baxterian or Fullerite. Had I no other preservative, I think my daily and almost hourly sense of my miserable helplessness and thorough impotency to raise up my soul to one act of faith, hope, or love would keep me from assenting to Andrew Fuller's lies. Nothing suits my soul but sovereign, omnipotent, and superabounding grace. I am no common sinner, and must therefore have no common grace. No texts have been much sweeter to my soul than Jer. xx. 7, “Thou art stronger than I, and hast prevailed ;" and Rom. v. 20, 21, "Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound," &c. In truth, I find religion to be a very different thing from what I once thought it. There was a time when, in all apparent sincerity, I was looking to my spirituality and heavenly-mindedness as evidences of my standing, instead of being a poor needy suppliant and starving petitioner for a word or a smile from the Lord himself. It seemed more as if my spirituality were to take me to Christ, than that my miserable poverty and nakedness were qualifications to bring Christ down to me. But all these idols having tumbled into ruins, I am now in that state that Immanuel, the God-Man Mediator, must have all the glory, by. stooping down to save, bless, and teach an undone wretch, who has neither spirituality, nor piety, nor religion, nor anything holy or heavenly in himself, and whose chief desire, when able to breathe it forth, is to be but the passive clay in the hands of the Divine Potter, and sensibly to feel the almighty, though gentle, fingers moulding him into a vessel of honour meet for the Master's use.

You speak of "going down Lumber Lane." I, alas! seem to live in it. When we go down a lane we may hope to get to the bottom of it; but I seem to have my house there; and besides all the mud in winter and all the dust in summer, there are tall thick hedges made of thorns, which shut out the sun. But I am glad to have that in me which hates Lumber Lane, and longs after green pastures, still waters, and the warm sun.— Yours affectionately,

Stamford, March 24, 1842

J. C. P.

MEN OF ONE BOOK AND OF ONE SPIRIT.

May the blessing of the Lord God of Israel be manifestly enjoyed by my dear brother Gadsby. Many thanks to you for your kind and affectionate letter! As I have nothing but what the Lord hath given me, and as I have many mercies of which I am not worthy, it is only of the Lord that I have withal to give, and it is only of the Lord that I have given. The praise, therefore, be all the Lord's.

As men of one book, and that book having God for its Author, although penned by men, we cannot be otherwise than of one spirit. Blessed be the name of the Lord, "we know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren." This book is not a dead letter, although it be sealed. The written word, like the uncreated Word, the Light of the World, shineth in darkness, but the darkness comprehendeth it not. But when He who caused the light to shine out of darkness shines into the heart of him that reads it with the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, then the reader has spiritual light, the eye of faith to read, and the heart of faith to receive the truth therein revealed. God is faithful, and he hath promised that his word shall not return unto him void, but it shall prosper whereunto he hath sent it, and shall do all his pleasure. Prosperity and pleasure are good and comfortable words, and may the holy Author bless his own book to that end.

Accept my humble thanks, my dear brother, for your kind invitation. In this day, when Sabellians, and Arians, and others professing to be bought with blood, are denying the previous eternity of our Lord Jesus Christ, by setting up the pre-existence of a begun-tobe Jesus Christ, in opposition to the Christ of God, (Luke ix. 20,) I am thankful to be remembered by one who is not ashamed to preach the one true Christ, in defiance of all the powers of darkness, and all the enemies of our Lord. Neither dare I call a lie harmless, when the Lord's children are distinguished as "children that will not lie," from the seed of the serpent, who lie, and love lies.

My beloved brother, let us sing together the 103rd Psalm; and may the enjoyment of the truth therein recorded be so engraven in our hearts by the testimony of the Holy Ghost, that we may sing with melody in our hearts unto the Lord. I feel grateful to you for your kind remembrance of a poor worm, and bless the Lord for putting it into the hearts of so many of his beloved people to pray for such an unworthy creature as I feel myself to be. I have for months past felt myself to be the chief of sinners, and do continually esteem others better than myself; so that I am distressed when any of the dear Lord's people appear to pay me any respect; for I would they gave all the honour to Him who only is worthy to wear the crown. You may think it strange, but it is nevertheless true, that I do not think myself worthy to wipe the dust off your shoes; and yet, if you were to speak or write against the Lord Jesus, that eternal Life with the Father, (but which you never do, for I have delighted to hear you exalt him,) I should use you as sharply as the two-edged sword did J. S-, for daring to treat God's testimony with such contempt.

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