I often think of the dying saying of a good man, when asked, as he was near death, whether he feared death, “I cannot say” said he, “that I have so lived as not to fear death, but I can say that I know Christ so, that I am not afraid to die.” I trust the Lord will support you in your very trying circumstances—that his hand will preserve you in your approaching calamity, and give you a safe delivery—that almighty grace will save the child, that parents and children may meet in glory. The Lord is well known in Zion as an husband to the widow, and the father of the fatherless, and he will be known by you in these lovely characters. I had not an opportunity of dropping a tribute of respect for your dear husband in the pulpit, I beg, however, the Lord will be with you, and give you to enjoy all the grace contained in this sweet text—“For thy maker is thy husband, the Lord of Hosts is his name.” To him be glory by the Church. Amen. Command me home, Oh God my King, And bear me to the Skies, Where Angels loud Hosannahs sing, And drink celestial joys. Your’s, truly, _Ruhamah_. LETTER XIV. _Valley of Achor_, _February_ 20_th_, 1818. Mr. & Mrs. P—N. MY EVER DEAR FRIENDS IN THE BEST OF BONDS, Grace and peace be your’s.—I trust I need not apologize for writing to you from such a place, and under such circumstances. You will no doubt join me in saying, I am just where the Lord had long devised I should be, and where, I bless his dear name, he graciously condescends to pay me many a visit, sometimes with a rod, and sometimes with a smile: and he has promised both to us—he laid up the rod as well as the manna in the ark, and it is only the sanctified rod, afflictions in Christ, that can do us any lasting good. But I trust that in my personal experience, the rod has budded in my convictions of what I have done amiss in many things, for says an inspired apostle, “In many things we all offend.” I hope the rod has also blossomed in my humility, and that the fruit will be peace and righteousness; and as much preciseness in my whole conduct, as if my salvation depended on it. I trust the long contention the Lord has had with me, for these ten years past, is consummated. I cannot bless God for distress of mind, but I can bless him for that grace that melts the heart, and produces that secret sacred mourning, wonder, gratitude, and peace. None but an all-seeing Jehovah can tell what I have seen here; my grief has been great, my sighs have been many, my heart has been broken, sin has appeared detestable, error damnable, man truly depraved, God patient, long suffering and good. I have been deeply distrest on account of my own sins, and the sins of others. O that this work had been as deep on my soul some years ago, as it has been only some