To Rev. Francis Asbury.
DCCLXXII. — To the Same.
MY DEAR BROTHER, LONDON, February 3, 1796
TWO or three days ago, I had the pleasure of a letter from you, dated August 23d, 1789, giving me a comfortable account of the swift and extensive progress of the work of God in America. You likewise informed me that you had written an account of your life, and directed it should be sent to me; and I have been expecting it from day to day ever since, but have now almost given up my expectation; for, unless it comes soon, it will hardly overtake me in the present world. You see time has shaken me by the hand, and death is not far behind. While we live, let us work our Lord’s work betimes; and in His time he will give us our full reward. I am
Your affectionate friend and brother.
—————
DCCLXXIII. — To the Rev. Francis Asbury.
LONDON, September 20, 1788.
THERE is indeed a wide difference between the relation wherein you stand to the Americans, and the relation wherein I stand to all the Methodists. You are the elder brother of the American Methodists I am, under God, the father of the whole family. Therefore, I naturally care for you all in a manner no other person can do. Therefore, I, in a measure, provide for you all; for the supplies. Which Dr. Coke provides for you, he could not provide, were it not for me, — were it not that I not only permit him to collect, but also support him in so doing.
But in one point, my dear brother, I am a little afraid, both the Doctor and you differ from me. I study to be little; you study to be great. I creep; you strut along. I found a school; you a college! nay, and call it after your own names! 7 O, beware, do not seek to be something! Let me be nothing, and “Christ be all in all!”
One instance of this, of your greatness, has given me great concern. How can you, how dare you, suffer yourself to be called Bishop? I shudder, I start at the very thought! Men may call me a knave or a fool, a rascal, a scoundrel, and I am content: But they shall never, by my consent, call me Bishop! For my sake, for God’s sake, for Christ’s sake, put a full end to this! Let the Presbyterians do what they please, but let the Methodists know their calling better.
Thus, my dear Franky, I have told you all that is in my heart. And let this, when I am no more seen, bear witness how sincerely
I am
Your affectionate friend and brother.
—————
DCCLXXIV. — To Miss Hester Ann Roe, afterwards Mrs. Rogers. WHITEHAVEN, May 3, 1776.
WITH pleasure I sit down to write to my dear Miss Roe, who has been much upon my mind since I left Macclesfield. Once I saw my dear friend, Miss Beresford: When I came again, she was in Abraham’s bosom. Once I have seen her living picture, drawn by the same hand, and breathing the same spirit; and I am afraid I shall hardly see you again, till we meet in the garden of God. But if you should gradually decay, if you be sensible of the hour approaching when your spirit is to return to God; I should be glad to have notice of it, wherever I am, that if possible I might see you once more before you
Clap your glad wing, and soar away,
And mingle with the blaze of day.
Perhaps in such a circumstance, I might be of some little comfort to your dear mamma, who would stand in much need of comfort; and, it may be, our blessed Master would enable me to teach you at once, and learn of you, to die! In the mean time, see that you neglect no probable means of restoring your health; and send me, from time to time, a particular account of the state wherein you are. Do you feel your own will quite given up to God, so that you have no repugnance to His will in anything? Do you find no strivings of pride? no remains of vanity? no desire of praise, or fear of dispraise? Do you enjoy an uninterrupted sense of the loving presence of God? How far does the corruptible and decaying body press down the soul? Your disorder naturally sinks the spirits, and occasions heaviness and dejection. Can you, notwithstanding this, “rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks?” Certainly before the root of sin is taken array, believers may live above the power of it. Yet what a difference between the first love, and the pure love. You can explain this to Mr. Roe by your own experience. Let him follow on, and how soon may he attain it! I am glad you wrote to Miss Yates, and hope you will write to Miss ——. As to health, they are both nearly as you are; only Miss —— is a little strengthened by a late journey. I never conversed with her so much before. I can give you her character in one line. She is “all praise, all meekness, and all love.” If it will not hurt you, I desire you will write often to, My dear Hetty,
Yours affectionately.
DCCLXXV. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE, June 2, 1776.
IT is not uncommon for a person to be thoroughly convinced of his duty to call sinners to repentance, several years before he has an opportunity of doing it. This has been the case with several of our Preachers. Probably it may be the case with Mr. Roe: God may show him now what he is to do hereafter. It seems, his present duty is to wait the openings of divine Providence.
If I durst, I should earnestly desire that you might continue with us a little longer. I could almost say, it is hard that I should just see you once and no more. But it is a comfort, that to die is not to be lost. Our union will be more full and perfect hereafter.
Surely our disembodied souls shall join,
Surely my friendly shade shall mix with thine:
To earth-born pain superior, light shall rise
Through the wide waves of unopposing skies;
Together swift ascend heaven’s high abode,
Converse with angels, and rejoice with God.
Tell me, my dear Hetty, do you experience something similar to what Mr. De Renty expresses in those strong words: “I bear about with me an experimental verity, and a plenitude of the presence of the ever-blessed Trinity?” Do you commune with God in the night season? Does He bid you even in sleep, Go on? And does He “make your very dreams devout?” That He may fill you with all his fullness, is the constant wish of. My dear Hetty,
Yours affectionately.
DCCLXXVI. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, BRISTOL, September 16, 1776.
AS I did not receive yours, of August 28, before my return from Cornwall, I was beginning to grow a little apprehensive lest your love was declining: But you have sweetly dispelled all my apprehensions of that sort, and I take knowledge that you are still the same. The happy change wrought in Miss P. R. and Miss B. may encourage you to snatch every opportunity of speaking a word for a good Master. Sometimes you see present fruit; but if not, your labor is not lost, the seed may spring up after many days. I hope, though your cousins are tried, they will not be discouraged; then all these things will “work together for good.” Probably, if they stand firm, religion will, in a while, leaven the whole family. But they will have need of much patience, as well as much resolution. I am not sorry that you have met with a little blame in the affair, and I hope it was not undeserved. Happy are they that suffer for well doing I was almost afraid that all men would speak well of you. Do you feel no intermission of your happiness in God? Do you never find any lowness of spirits? Does time never hang heavy upon your hands? How is your health? You see how inquisitive I am, because everything relating to you nearly concerns me., I once thought I could not be well acquainted with any one till many years had elapsed; and yet I am as well acquainted with you as if I had known you from your infancy. You now are my comfort and joy! And I hope to be far longer than this little span of life,
My dear Hetty,
Yours in tender affection.
DCCLXXVII. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, BRISTOL, October 6, 1776.
Tomorrow I set out for London, in and near which, if it please God to continue my life, I shall remain till spring. The trials which a gracious Providence sends, may be precious means of growing in grace, and particularly of increasing in faith, patience, and resignation; and are they not all chosen for us by infinite Wisdom and Goodness? So that we may well subscribe to those beautiful lines, —
“With patient mind thy course of duty run;
God nothing does, or suffers to be done,
But thou wouldst do thyself, if thou couldst see
The end of all events as well as He.”
Everything that we can do for a parent, we ought to do, that is, everything we can do without killing ourselves. But this we have no right to do. Our lives are not at our own disposal. Remember that, my dear Hetty, and do not carry a good principle too far. Do you still find,
Labor is rest, and pain is sweet,
When thou, my God, art here?
I know pain or grief does not interrupt your happiness: But does it not lessen it? You often feel sorrow for your friends: Does that sorrow rather quicken than depress your soul?
Does it sink you deeper into God? I cannot express the satisfaction which I receive from your open and artless manner of writing; especially when you speak of the union of spirit which you feel with,
My dear Hetty,
Your ever affectionate.
DCCLXXVIII. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, LONDON, February 11, 1777.
THE papers of one who lately went to God are fallen into my hands. I will transcribe a few particulars. His experience is uncommon: And you may simply tell me how far your experience does or does not agree with it. But beware of hurting yourself upon the occasion; beware of unprofitable reasonings. God may have wrought the same work in you, though not in the same manner. “Just after my uniting with the Methodists, the Father was revealed to me the first time; soon after, the whole Trinity. I beholden the distinct Persons of the Godhead, and worshipped one undivided Jehovah, and each Person separately. After this I had equal intercourse with the Son, and afterwards with the Spirit, the same as with the Father and the Son. After some years, my communion was with the Son only, though at times with the Father, and not wholly without the Spirit. Of late I have found the same access to the Triune God. When I approach Jesus, the Father and the Spirit commune with me.”
“Whatever I receive now, centers in taking leave of earth, and hasting to another place. I am as one that is no more. I stand and look on what God has done; his calls, helps, mercies, forbearances, deliverances from sorrows, rescues out of evils; and I adore and devote myself to Him with new ardor. If it be asked how, or in what manner I beholden the Triune God, it is above all description. He that has seen this light of God, can no more describe it than he that has not. In two of those divine interviews, the Father spoke, while I was in an agony of prayer for perfect conformity to Himself; twice more when I was in the depth of sorrow; and each time in Scripture words. It may be asked, ‘Was the appearance glorious?’ It was all divine, it was glory. I had no conception of it. It was God. The first time, the glory of Him I saw reached even to me. I was overwhelmed with it; body and soul were penetrated through with the rays of Deity.” Tell me, my dear maid, if you have ever experienced anything like these things: But do not puzzle yourself about them; only speak in simplicity. You cannot speak of these things to many; but you may say anything without reserve to, My dear Hetty,
Yours in tender affection.
DCCLXXIX. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, LONDON, February 11, 1779.
IT is a great mercy that, on the one hand, you have previous warning of the trials that are at hand; and, on the other, are not careful about them, but only prepared to encounter them. We know indeed that these, as well as all things, are ordered by unerring wisdom; and are given us exactly at the right time, and in due number, weight, and measure. And they continue no longer than is best; for chance has no share in the government of the world. The Lord reigns, and disposes all things, strongly and sweetly, for the good of them that love Him. I rejoice to hear that you have now less hindrance in the way, and can oftener converse with his people. Be sure to improve every one of those precious opportunities of doing and receiving good.
I am often grieved to observe that, although on His part “the gifts and callings of God are without repentance;” although He never repents of anything He has given us, but is willing to give it always; yet so very few retain the same ardor of affection which they received either when they were justified, or when they were (more fully) sanctified. Certainly none need to lose any part of their light or their love. It may increase more and more. Of this you are a witness for God; and so is our dear Miss ——. You have not lost anything of what you have received; your love has never grown cold since the moment God visited you with his great salvation. And I hope also you will ever retain the same affection for Yours most tenderly.
DCCLXXX. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, LIVERPOOL, April 10, 1781.
MANY of our brethren and sisters in London, during that great outpouring of the Spirit, spoke of several new blessings which they had attained. But after all, they could find nothing higher than pure love; on which the full assurance of hope generally attends. This the inspired writings always represent as the highest point; only there are innumerable degrees of it. The plerophory or full assurance of faith is such a clear conviction of being now in the favor of God as excludes all doubt and fear concerning it. The full assurance of hope is such a clear confidence in the person who possesses it, that he shall enjoy the glory of God, as excludes all doubt and fear concerning this. And this confidence is totally different from an opinion that “no saint shall fall from grace.” It has, indeed, no relation to it. Bold, presumptuous men often substitute this base counterfeit in the room of that precious confidence. But it is observable, the opinion remains just as strong while men are sinning and serving the devil, as while they are serving God. Holiness or unhappiness does not affect it in the least degree. Whereas, the giving way to anything unholy, either in heart or life, immediately clouds the full assurance of hope; which cannot subsist any longer than the heart cleaves steadfastly to God.
I am persuaded the storm which met us in the teeth, and drove us back to England, was not a casual, but a providential, thing: Therefore I lay aside the thought of’ seeing Ireland at present.
I am, my dear Hetty,
Always yours in tender affection.
DCCLXXXI. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, LONDON, December 9, 1781.
WE may easily account for those notices which we frequently receive, either sleeping or waking, upon the scriptural supposition that “He giveth his angels charge over us, to keep us in all our ways.” How easy is it for them, who have at all times so ready an access to our souls, to impart to us whatever may be a means of increasing our holiness or our happiness! So that we may well say, with Bishop Ken, —
“O may thy angels, while we sleep,
Around our beds their vigils keep,
Their love angelical instill,
Stop every avenue of ill!”
Without needing to, use any other arguments, you have a clear proof in your own experience, that our blessed Lord is both able and willing to give us always what he gives once; that there is no necessity of ever losing what we receive in the moment of justification or sanctification. But it is His will that all the light and love which we then receive, should increase more and more unto the perfect day.
If you are employed to assist children that are brought to, the birth, that groan either for, the first or the pure love, happy are you! But this is not all your work. No, my Hetty, you are likewise to watch over the new-born babes. Although they have love, they have not yet either much lighter much strength, so that they never had more need of your assistance, that they may neither be turned out of the way, nor hindered in running the race that is set before them.
I should not have been willing that Miss Bosanquet should have been joined to any other person than Mr. Fletcher; but I trust she may be as useful with him as she was before.
I fear our dear —— will not stay long with us. I have no answer to my last letter, and Mrs. Downes writes that she is far from well. Yet God is able to raise her up. As to Peggy Roe, I have little hope of her life: But she seemed, when I saw her, to be quite simple of heart, desiring nothing more but God. My dear Hetty, adieu! Remember in all your prayers Yours most affectionately.
DCCLXXXII. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, LONDON, January 7, 1782.
IN the success of Mr. Leech’s preaching, we have one proof of a thousand, that the blessing of God always attends the publishing of full salvation as attainable now, by simple faith. You should always have in readiness that little tract, “The Plain Account of Christian Perfection.” There is nothing that would so effectually stop the mouths of those who call this “a new doctrine.” All who thus object are really (though they suspect nothing less) seeking sanctification by works. If it be by works, then certainly these will need time, in order to the doing of these works. But if it is by faith, it is plain, a moment is as a thousand years. Then God says; (in the spiritual, as in the outward world,) Let there be light, and there is light. I am in great hopes, as J. S. got his own soul much quickened in Macclesfield, he will now be a blessing to many at Chester. A few witnesses of pure love remain there still; but several are gone to Abraham’s bosom. Encourage those in M. who enjoy it, to speak explicitly what they do experienced, and to go on, till they know all that “love of God that passeth knowledge.”
Give all the help you can, my dear Hetty, to them, and to Yours most affectionately.
DCCLXXXIII. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, DARLINGTON, June 25, 1782.
IT is certain there has been, for these forty years, such an outpouring of the Spirit, and such an increase of vital religion, as has not been in England for many centuries, and it does not appear that the work of God at all decays. In many places there is a considerable increase of it; so that we have reason to hope, that the time is at hand, when the kingdom of God shall come with power, and all the people of this poor heathen land shall know Him, from the least to the greatest.
I am glad you had so good an opportunity of talking with Mr.S—— Surely, if prayer was made for him, so useful an instrument as he was would not be suffered to lose all his usefulness. I wish you could make such little excursions oftener, as you always find your labor is not in vain. This afternoon, I was agreeably surprised by a letter from our dear Miss ——. It seems as if God, in answer to many prayers, has lent her to us yet a little longer. “He bringeth down to the grave, and bringeth up again wise are all his ways!”
Take particular care, my dear Hetty, of the children: They are glorious monuments of divine grace; and I think you have a particular affection for them, and a gift to profit them.
I always am, my dear friend,
Yours most affectionately.
DCCLXXXIV. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, BRISTOL, October 1, 1782.
I RECEIVED yours two days after date, and read it yesterday to Miss Stockdale and poor Peggy Roe, who is still strangely detained in life. But she is permitted to stay in the body a little longer, that she may be more ready for the Bridegroom.
You did exceedingly well to send me so circumstantial an account of Robert Roe’s last illness and happy death. It may incite many to run the race that is set before them with more courage and patience. The removal of so useful an instrument as your late cousin, in the midst, or rather in the dawn, of his usefulness, (especially while the harvest is so great, and the faithful laborers so few,) is an instance of the divine economy which leaves our reason behind: Our little narrow minds cannot comprehend it. We can only wonder and adore. How is your health? I sometimes fear, lest you also (as those I tenderly love generally have been) should be snatched away. But let us live to day.
I always am
Affectionately yours.
DCCLXXXV. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, BRISTOL, March 15, 1783.
I SHALL not be able to visit Macclesfield quite so soon as usual this year; for the preaching-houses at Hinckley and Nottingham are to be opened, which I take in my way. I expect to be at Nottingham on the 1st of April; but how long I shall stay there, I cannot yet determine. Thence I shall probably come, by Derby, to Macclesfield.
I intended to have written a good deal more, but I am hardly able. For a few days, I have had just such a fever as I had a few years ago in Ireland. But all is well. I am in no pain, but the wheel of life seems scarcely able to move; yet I made shift to preach this morning to a crowded audience, and hope to say something to them this afternoon. I love that word, “And Ishmael died in the presence of all his brethren.” Still pray for, My dear Hetty,
Yours most affectionately.
DCCLXXXVI. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, LONDON, October 12, 1787.
I DO not doubt but your calling at Dublin would be in an acceptable time, especially as R. H. was there.
After we left you at Manchester, we pushed on, and, in all haste, set out for the Isle of Jersey. But a storm drove us into Yarmouth, in the Isle of Wight. There Dr. Coke and I preached in the market-place by turns, two evenings and two mornings. A second storm drove us to the Isle of Purbeck, just where the Indiaman was lost. There I had an opportunity of preaching to a little society, which I had not seen for thirteen years. We hoped to reach Guernsey the next evening, but could get no farther than the Isle of Alderney. I preached on the beach in the morning, and the next afternoon came safe to Guernsey. Here is an open door: High and low, rich and poor, receive the word gladly; so that I could not regret being detained by contrary winds several days longer than we intended. The same thing befell us in the Isle of Jersey, where also there was an open door; even the Governor, and the chief of the people, being quite civil and friendly. Jane Bisson I saw everyday. She is nineteen years old, about the size of Miss ——, and has a peculiar mixture of seriousness, sprightliness, and sweetness, both in her looks and behavior. Wherever we were, she was the servant of all. I think she exceeds Madam Guion in deep communion with God.
I hope you will see a revival in Cork also. See that you take particular care of the tender lambs, not forgetting poor P. L. Peace be with all your spirits!
I am, with kind love to James Rogers,
My dear Hetty,
Yours most affectionately.
DCCLXXXVII. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, May 28, 1788.
MY not hearing from you for so long a time would have given me concern, but I knew it was not from want of affection. I am glad to hear you prosper in your soul: Rest in nothing you have attained; but press on till you are filled with all the fullness of God. In this day of God’s power, I hope many of the backsliders in Cork will be brought back: There are great numbers of them in and about the city, and many are of the genteeler sort. It seems you have a particular mission to these: Perhaps they will hear none but you. I hope you have already found out Mrs. Forbes (Captain Forbes’s wife); and that now she is more than almost persuaded to be a Christian. The pearl on my eye is but just discernible, and dulls the sight a little, but not much: As it grows no worse, I do not much regard it. Mr. Smyth’s society, I verily believe, will do us no harm: And every one may speak of me as he will. I am just flying away as a shadow. It more than makes me amends, that James and you still love, and prayer for, My dear Hetty,
Your most affectionate.
DCCLXXXVIII. — To the Same.
MY DEAR HETTY, February 29, 1789.
I AM glad to hear that you do not grow weary or faint in your mind; that you are rather increasing the way of holiness. Go on in the name of the Lord, and in the power of his might, doing the will of God from the heart. It was a providence indeed, the flood did not begin in the night, rather than in the day. So it is that judgment is usually mixed with mercy, that sinners may be awakened and not destroyed. I liked well to lodge at brother Laffan’s when I was in Cork last; but certainly I shall like much better to lodge with brother Rogers and you. I shall be more at home with you, than