89. - To Mr. and Mrs. Greenwood. 90. - To Mrs. Thornton.
89. - TO MR. AND MRS. GREENWOOD.
1777.
TEN thousand blessings light upon the heads and hearts of my dear benefactors, Charles and Mary Greenwood! May their quiet retreat at Newington become a Bethel to them! May their offspring be born again there! And may the choicest consolations of the Spirit visit their minds, whenever they retire thither from the busy city! Their poor pensioner travels on, though slowly, toward the grave. His journey to the sea seems to him to have hastened, rather than retarded his progress to his old mother, earth. May every providential blast blow him nearer to the heavenly haven of his Saviour’s breast; where, he hopes, one day, to meet all his benefactors, and among them, those whom he now addresses. O my dear friends, what shall I render? What to Jesus? What to you? May He who invites the heavy laden, take upon him all the burdens of kindness you have heaped on your Lazarus! And may angels, when you die, find me in Abraham’s bosom, and bring you into mine, that, by all the kindness which may be shown in heaven, I may try to requite that which you have shown to your obliged brother,
J. FLETCHER.
90. - TO MRS. THORNTON.
BRISLINGTON, - - - - 1777.
MY DEAR FRIEND, - You should have heard from me, if sometimes want of spirits to hold a pen, and for some days, want of paper, had not stood in the way of my inclination. Now I have paper and a degree of strength, how can I employ both better, than in trying to fulfil with my pen the great commandment, which contains my duty to God and my neighbour? But what can a pen do here? It can just testify what my heart feels: that no words can describe what I owe to my heavenly Benefactor, to my earthly friends, and to you in particular, who have had so much patience as to stand by me and bear a share in my burdens, for so many months at home and abroad.
What shall I say? Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gifts; - for Jesus, - for the Spirit of Jesus; - for the members of Jesus’ mystical body; and in particular am I bound to return thanks for those who have ministered, and still do minister to my wants, and share in my infirmities. Your meek humility forbids my saying, that among the many who, for Christ’s sake, have debased themselves so far as to take up my cross with me and help me to bear it after my Lord; you stand in the first rank, and the first fruits of my gratitude are due to you. Simon of Cyrene bore our Lord’s cross by compulsion: you have borne that of the most unworthy of his servants without compulsion, and now, what shall I render? A silent tear whispers, I can render nothing. May the merciful, faithful God, who has promised that a cup of cold water given to the least of his followers shall not lose its reward - may that omnipotent God who sees you in all the states of weakness, which await you between the present moment and the hour of death, give you all that can make your life comfortable, your trials tolerable, your death triumphant, and your eternity glorious! What I ask for you, I also peculiarly beg for your dear brother and sister, who have vouchsafed to bind so dry, so insignificant (I had almost said, so rotten) a stick as myself in the bundle of that love with which they embrace the poor, the lame, the helpless, the loathsome, and those who have their sores without, as Lazarus, or within, as I. May we all be found bound up together in the bundle of life, light, and love with our Lord! And when he shall make up his jewels, may you all shine among his diamonds of the finest water and the first magnitude!
You want possibly to know how I go on. Though I am not worth a line, I shall observe, to the glory of my patient, merciful Preserver and Redeemer, that I am kept in sweet peace, and am looking for the triumphant joy of my Lord, and for the fulness expressed in these words, which sweetly filled the sleepless hours of last night: -
“Drawn, - and redeemed, - and seal’d,
I bless the One and Three;
With Father, Son, and Spirit fill’d
To all eternity.”
With respect to my body, I sleep less and spit more blood than I did when you were here: nor can I bear the least trot of an easy horse. If this continues many days, instead of thinking to go and see my friends on the continent, I shall turn my steps to my earthly home, to be ready to lay my bones in my church yard: and in such a case, I shall put you in mind of your kind promise, that you would do to the last the office of a guardian angel, - hold up my hands in my last conflict, and close my eyes when it is over.