Το the Son of God in human nature, dying on the cross for me. me now, health or sickness, pain or ease, life or death, are things indifferent. I feel so happy in being in the hands of Infinite Love, that when the severest strokes are laid upon me, I receive them with pleasure, because they come from my heavenly Father's hands! "Oh! to grace how great a debtor!" &c. TO DR. RYLAND. "Birmingham, July 20, 1799. MY VERY DEAR Brother, YOUR friendly anxieties on my behalf demand the earliest satisfaction. We had a pleasant ride to Newport on the afternoon we left you, and the next day without much fatigue reached Tewksbury; but the road was so rough from Tewksbury to Evesham, that it injured me more than all the jolting we had had before put together. However, we reached Alcester on Wednesday evening, stopped there a day to rest, and last night (Friday) were brought safely hither, blessed be God! I find myself getting weaker and weaker, and so my Lord instructs me in his pleasure to remove me soon. You say well, my dear brother, that at such a prospect I "cannot complain." No, blessed be His dear name who shed his blood for me, he helps me to rejoice at times, with joy unspeakable. Now I see the value of the religion of the cross. It is a religion for a dying sinner. It is all the most guilty, the most wretched, can desire. Yes, I taste its sweetness, and enjoy its fullness, with all the gloom of a dying bed before me. And far rather would I be the poor, emaciated, and emaciating creature that I am, than be an emperor, with every earthly good about him but without a God! I was delighted the other day, in re-perusing the Pilgrim's Progress, to observe that when Christian came to the top of the hill Difficulty, he was put to sleep in a chamber called Peace. Why, how good is the Lord of the way to me! said I; I have not reached the summit of the hill yet, but notwithstanding he puts me to sleep in the chamber of Peace every night True, it is often a chamber of pain; but let pain be as formidable as it may, it has never yet been able to expel that peace which the great Guardian of Israel has appointed to keep my heart and mind through Christ Jesus. I have been labouring lately to exercise most love to God when I have been suffering most severely :-but what shall I say? Alas, too often the sense of pain absorbs every other thought. Yet there have been seasons when I have been affected with such a delightful sense of the loveliness of God, as to ravish my soul, and give predominance to the sacred passion. It was never till to-day that I got any personal instruction from our Lord's telling Peter by what death he should glorify God. Oh what a satisfying thought is it, that God appoints those means of dissolution whereby he gets most glory to himself! It was the very thing I needed; for of all the ways of dying, that which I most dreaded was by a consumption; in which it is now highly probable my disorder will issue. But, Oh my dear Lord, if by this death I can most glorify thee, I prefer it to all others, and thank thee that by this mean thou art hastening my fuller enjoyment of thee in a purer world. A sinless state! "Oh 'tis a heaven worth dying for!" I cannot realize any thing about heaven, but the presence of Christ and his people, and a perfect deliverance from sin, and I want no moreI am sick of sinning-soon I shall be beyond its power. "Oh joyful hour! Oh blest abode! I shall be near and like my God!" I only thought of filling one side-and now have not left room to thank you and dear Mrs. Ryland for the minute, affectionate, and constant attentions you paid us in Bristol. May the Lord reward you. Our hearty love to all around, till we meet in heaven. Eternally yours in Christ, "S. P." TO DR. RYLAND. Birmingham, Aug. 4, 1799. MY VERY DEAR Brother, STILL, I trust, hastening to the land "where there shall be no more curse," I take this opportunity of talking a little with you on the road; for we are fellow-travellers, and a little conversation will not lose me the privilege of getting first to the end of my journey. It is seventeen years within about a week since I first actually set out on my pilgrimage; and when I review the many dangers to which, during that time, I have been exposed, I am filled with conviction that I have all along been the care of Omnipotent Love. Ah, how many Pliables, and Timorouses, and Talkatives, have I seen, while my quivering heart said, "Alas! I shall soon follow these sons of apostasy, prove a disgrace to religion, and have my portion with hypocrites at last." These fears may have had their uses-may have made me more cautious, more distrustful of myself, and kept me more dependent on the Lord. Thus "All that I've met has work'd for my good." With what intricacy, to our view, and yet with what actual skill and goodness, does the Lord draw his plans and mark out our path! Here we wonder and complain-Soon we shall all agree that it was a right path to the city of habitation; and what we now most deeply regret, shall become the subject of our warmest praises. I am afraid to come back again to life. O how many dangers await me! Perhaps I may be overcome of some fleshly lust-perhaps I may get proud and indolent, and be more of the priest than of the evangelist-surely I rejoice in feeling my outward man decay, and having the sentence of death in myself. O what prospects are before me in the blessed world whither I am going! To be holy as God is holy-to have nothing but holiness in my nature-to be assured, without 465 a doubt, and eternally to carry about this assurance with me, that the pure God looks on me with constant complacency, for ever blesses me, and says, as at the first creation, "It is very good." I am happy now in hoping in the divine purposes towards me; but I know, and the thought is my constant burden, that the Being I love best, always sees something in me which he infinitely hates. "O wretched, wretched man that I am!" The thought even now makes me weep, and who can help it, that seriously reflects, he never comes to God to pray or praise, but he brings what his God detests along with him-carries it with him wherever he goes, and can never get rid of it as long as he lives? Come, my dear brother! will you not share my joy, and help my praise, that soon I shall leave this body of sin and death behind, to enter on the perfection of my spiritual nature; and patiently to wait till this natural body shall become a spiritual body, and so be a fit vehicle for my immortal and happy spirit! But I must forbear-I have been very unwell all day; but this evening God has kindly given me a respite-my fever is low and my spirits are cheerful, so I have indulged myself in unbosoming my feelings to my dear friend. "S. P." MEMORANDA; Taken down occasionally by Mrs. Pearce, within four or five weeks of Mr. Pearce's death. He once said "I have been in darkness two or three days, crying, O when wilt thou comfort me! but last night the mist was taken from me, and the Lord shone in upon my soul. O that I could but speak, I would tell a world to trust a faithful God. Sweet affliction, now it worketh glory, glory!" Mrs. P. having told him the various exercises of her mind, he replied, "O trust the Lord; if he lifts up the light of his countenance upon you, as he has done upon me this day, all your mountains will become mole-hills. I feel your situation, I feel your sorrows; but he who takes care of sparrows, will care for you and my dear children." When scorching with burning fever, he said, "Hot and happy." One Lord's day morning he said, "Cheer up, my dear, think how much will be said to-day of the faithfulness of God. Though we are called to separate, he will never separate from you. I wish I could tell the world what a good and gracious God he is. Never need they, who trust in him, be afraid of trials. He has promised to give strength for the day; that is his promise. O what a lovely God! and he is my God and yours. He will never leave us nor forsake us, no never! I have been thinking that this and that medicine will do me good, but what have I to do with it? It is in my Jesus's hands; he will do it all, and there I leave it. What a mercy is it, I have a good bed to lie upon; you, my dear Sarah, to wait upon me; and friends to pray for me. O how thankful should I be for all my pains; I want for nothing: all my wishes are anticipated. O I have felt the force of those words of David, "Unless thy law, (my gracious God!) had been my delights, I should have perished in mine affliction." Though I am too weak to read it, or hear it, I can think upon it, and O how good it is!—I am in the best hands I could be in, in the hands of my dear Lord and Saviour, and he will do all things well. Yes, yes, he cannot do wrong." One morning Mrs. P. asked him how he felt ?--" Very ill, but unspeakably happy in the Lord, and my dear Lord Jesus." Once beholding her grieving, he said, "O my dear Sarah, do not be so anxious, but leave me entirely in the hands of Jesus, and think, if you were as wise as he, you would do the same by me. If he takes me, I shall not be lost, I shall only go a little before; we shall meet again, never to part." After a violent fit of coughing, he said, "It is all well! O what a good God is he! It is done by him, and it must be well-If I ever recover, I shall pity the sick more than ever, and if I do not, |