To Miss Jane Bisson (Cock).
DCCCXXIV. — To Miss Jane Bisson, afterwards Mrs. Cock of St. Helier’s, Jersey.
MY DEAR SISTER, MANCHESTER, August 4, 1787.
ALTHOUGH it is probable I shall see you in a few days, yet I must write a few lines. I rejoice to hear that you are still happy in God; and trust that happiness will never cease, but rather increase more and more, till your spirit returns to God. Be assured there is no necessity that it ever should cease. He is willing to give it you always; and He can purify you by the fire of his love, as well as by the fire of affliction. Do not therefore expect or desire affliction, but let the joy of the Lord be your strength. That your joy and peace may flow as a river, is the prayer of,
My dear sister,
Your affectionate brother.
DCCCXXV. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, PENZANCE, September 7, 1787.
ALMOST as soon as we were in the ship, the wind entirely died away. But we knew our remedy: We went into the cabin, and applied ourselves to Him that has all power. Immediately a fair wind sprung up, which never ceased till it brought us to Penance bay. Our brethren here were not a little surprised, having given up all hopes of seeing us this year: But so much the more thankful they were to the Giver of every good gift. I have thought of you much since I had the satisfaction of conversing with you: And I will tell you every thought that passed through my mind, as I wish always to do. It seems to me that our blessed Lord is willing to show all the power of his grace in you; even his power of saving to the uttermost those that come unto God through Him. But there is a mountain that stands in the way; and how you will get over it, I know not: I mean pride. O my sister, what can save you from this, but the mighty power of God! I almost tremble for you. If you give way to it, yea, but a little, your
grace will wither away. But still, that God whom you serve is able to deliver you; and He really will, if you continue instant in prayer. That other temptation which did formerly beset you, I trust will assault you no more: Or, if it should, you are now better prepared for it; and you will know in whom your strength lieth.
When you have opportunity, my dear Jenny, write freely to Your affectionate brother.
I hope Miss Lempriere has recovered her health.
DCCCXXVI. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, LONDON, December 17, 1787.
I LOVE to hear from you; especially when you send me that good news that you still stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ has made you free. I have a good hope that you will never lose any of the things which He has wrought in you, but that you will receive a full reward! Do you always find a clear sense of the presence of the ever blessed Trinity? Are you enabled to rejoice evermore? In what sense do you pray without ceasing? And can you in everything give thanks; seeing, it is the will of God concerning you in Christ Jesus? What you speak of your communion with Him comforts my heart. I love to read, to hear any part of your experience. If I doubted of anything you say, I would tell you so. I want to know everything wherein I can serve you. My dear Jenny, do not forget to pray for
Yours.
DCCCXXVII. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, Near LONDON, February 20, 1788.
YOUR last letter gave me a very sensible pleasure: Indeed, so do all your letters. There is something in your spirit that does me good, that softens and quickens me too: But at the same time, that melancholy thought occurs, that it is doubtful whether I shall ever have the satisfaction of taking you by the hand again. I shall, if it be the will of Him that orders all things well; who orders all for our profit, that we may be partakers of His holiness. And we know, He will not deny to them that fear Him any manner of thing that is good.
Your speaking of trials makes me almost cry out, in the words of our poet, —
“Secluded from the world, and all its care,
Hast thou to joy or grieve, to hope or fear?”
Shut up, as you are, in your father’s house, and a little, retired, quiet island, and having food to eat and raiment to put out, what can you find to try you? One of your trials I can easily foresee. With all your innocence and prudence, you cannot escape censure. In spite of all you can do, the good that is in you will surely be evil spoken of. And it is not unlikely, some will join in the cry against you from whom you expected better things. But as you are just entering into life, one would think you had hardly yet met with any who rewarded you evil for good, and gave you occasion to cry out,
“Ingratitude! sharp as the viper’s tooth!”
However, you have one Friend that never fails, and that is always near. What a comfort it is, that He is about your bed, and about your path, still laying his hand upon you! As soon as you have opportunity, write without reserve to
Yours most affectionately.
DCCCXXVIII. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, EDINBURGH, May 20, 1788.
FROM my long delay to answer, you might conclude I had forgotten you; but that is impossible: I shall not easily forget the agreeable conversations I had with you at Mount Plaisir, or the plain and artless account which, from time to time, you have given me of your experience. I shall be glad to know how you have found your soul since you altered your condition. You must needs have abundantly more care now than you had in a single life. And are you able still, among all these cares, to attend upon the Lord without distraction? Does nothing make you inattentive to His presence? Is there no intermission of your communion with the Father and the Son? When you have leisure, you will send an answer to,
My dear sister,
Yours very affectionately.
You may direct to London.
DCCCXXIX. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, LONDON, October 2, 1788.
IT gives me much pleasure to find you are still happy in God, leaning upon your Beloved. O may you increase therein more and more! May you be more and more holy, and you will be more and more happy! This I long for, even your perfection; your growing up in all things into Him that is our Head. O may you never endeavor
Love’s all-sufficient sea to raise
By drops of creature-happiness!
I sent you a little book or two by Mr. Clarke. If I can be of any service to you in anything, it would be an unspeakable satisfaction to, My dear sister,
Yours affectionately.
DCCCXXX. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, DUBLIN, April 7, 1789.
I CANNOT but say, that it was some concern to me when I first hear that you was married; because I was afraid that you would be less useful than you might have been in a single life. And indeed I hoped that if you married at all, it would be one of our Preachers: Then I could have stationed him in some Circuit where I should have had frequent opportunities of conversing with you. I am glad, however, that you are still happy in God. If you had married an ungodly man, it would certainly have been a sin. But it was no sin to marry a child of God; yea, though he were but a babe in Christ. And surely, if you pray mightily for him, the Lord will hear your prayer, and supply whatever is yet wanting in his faith, till he is happy, and holy, and perfect in love. I hope there is no shyness between you and Mr. or Mrs. Clarke. And do you converse freely with the other Preachers? Do you meet in band? I hope you are still acquainted with Miss Lempriere; and (I think the name of her friend is) Mrs. Saumurez. I want you and them continually to grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. O let us improve this span of life to the uttermost!
Yours in tender affection.
DCCCXXXI. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, LEEDS August 3, 1789.
I AM always well pleased to hear from you. When I first heard of your marriage, I was afraid of two things: The one was, that it would hurt your soul; the other, that it would prevent your usefulness; at least, that you would not be useful in so high a degree as otherwise you might be. But your last letter has given me much satisfaction. I now hope that your own soul has suffered no loss; and likewise, that you will find many opportunities of doing good, and will improve them to the uttermost. I
want you to do the will of God below, as angels do above. I want you to be all light, all fire, all love; and to grow up in all things into Him that is our Head; and still to love and pray for
Yours affectionately.
DCCCXXXII. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, November 3, 1789.
WHEN I heard Mr. Brackenbury give the first account of you, I had a great desire of having some conversation with you; and a much greater when I read the account of your experience which you had given him. How is it with you now, my dear friend? Is your soul now as much alive as ever? Do you still find deep and uninterrupted communion with God; with the Three-One God; with the Father, and the Son, through the Spirit? Do not you find anything deaden or flatten your soul? Do you now rejoice evermore? Do you pray without ceasing? Are you always conscious of the loving presence of God? Do you in everything give thanks, knowing it is the will of God concerning you in Christ Jesus?
Are you now as zealous of good works, and as active therein, as ever you was? And do you now live in eternity, and walk in eternity; and experience the life that is hid with Christ in God. Have you one or more children? With whom do you now maintain the most intimate acquaintance? Do you sometimes visit our friends in Guernsey? Are there any books which you have a mind to have? Or is there anything else in which I can serve you? This would at all times be a pleasure to Yours very affectionately.
DCCCXXXIII. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, LONDON, February 13, 1790.
I LOVE to see your name at the bottom of a letter; especially when it brings me the good news, that your spirit is still rejoicing in God your Savior. My sight is so far decayed, that I cannot well read a small print by candlelight; but I can write almost as well as ever I could: And it does me no harm, but rather good, to preach once or twice a day. A few days since, I had a letter from one of our sisters in Scotland, whose experience agrees much with yours; only she goes farther: She speaks of being “taken up into heaven, surrounded with the blessed Trinity, and let into God the Father.” I commend you to his care; and am
Yours most affectionately.
DCCCXXXIV. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, NEWCASTLE, June 6, 1790.
TO hear from you is always a pleasure to me; though it is a pleasure mixed with concern when I hear of your weakness or sickness: Only I know, the Lord loveth whom He chasteneth. But of what kind is your illness? Perhaps I might be enabled to tell you how to remove it: And if you can recover your health, you ought; for health is a great blessing. In August last my strength failed almost at once; and my sight in a great measure went from me. But all is well: I can still write almost as easily as ever; and I can read in a clear light; and I think, if I could not read or write at all, I could still say something for God. When you have more strength, tell me more of the work of God, whether in yourself or those round about you. And ought you not to let me know if you are in any temporal distress? For everything that concerns you, concerns, My dear Jenny, Yours most affectionately.
DCCCXXXV. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, Near BRISTOL, July 22, 1790.
I HAVE reason to bless God, that I can still see a little; so that I can, as yet, go on in my business: And it is enough if we are enabled either to do or to suffer His holy and acceptable will. It is no wonder, if among yourselves there arise men speaking perverse things. Wherever our Lord sows his good seed, Satan will endeavor to sow his tares also: And they are suffered, the tares and the wheat, to grow up together for a season, to exercise our faith and patience. I hope Mr. Stevens will be more and more useful among you, as his eye is single; therefore there can be no objection to his continuing with you a little longer. I am always glad to hear a little of your experience; and indeed the more the better. Wishing you and yours every blessing,
I remain
Yours most affectionately.
DCCCXXXVI. — To the Same.
MY DEAR SISTER, LONDON, November 9, 1790.
HOW unsearchable are the counsels of God! How little are we able to account for his ways! When I saw the wonderful manner wherein He had dealt with you from your early years, when I talked with you in Jersey, and when I conversed more largely with you in Guernsey, I thought He was preparing you for a large sphere of action. Surely you was not then designed to be shut up in a little cottage, and fully taken up with domestic cares! I was in hopes of seeing all the graces which He had given you employed in far other things. However, although I cannot deny that you are now acting in a lower sphere than was originally designed you, yet I trust you still enjoy communion with God the Father, and his Son Jesus Christ. I hope you are still sensible, wherever you go, of the presence of the ever-blessed Trinity; and that you continually enjoy that loving-kindness which is better than life itself.
I wish you would inform me of your present outward and inward state. Have you all things that are needful for the body? Do your brethren and sisters treat you with tender affection, or with coldness? Are the Preachers