This day of the month never comes, but it ever brings a variety of very affecting ideas to my mind, as it is supposed to be the day on which I was found, when an helpless infant, deserted by parents, and left to perish; but the Lord had some gracious intention in preserving me, till called and brought forth to public view. Blessed by many, and by many cursed. Yet the curse, causeless, has not, nor shall ever come. We have had the pleasure of dining together for some years, as on this day, and I trust we shall spend a blessed eternity together, when time, with us, shall be no more. It is my mercy that, though I was left fatherless, and motherless, I am not left Christless. But when father and mother forsook me, the Lord took me up, and dealt better for me than my poor parents could have done, perhaps, even in providence. On this subject I need not enlarge, as I hope, while I am in Babylon, to write my own memoirs, and publish it when I have an opportunity. But this depends on the display of the gracious office of God, the Holy Spirit, to act as my remembrancer. I am sorry I have been so negligent of the gracious dealings of God with me, in providence and grace; and have not set up those way marks, which I ought to have noticed, and which, no doubt, would be a satisfaction to my own friends, the comfort of my own mind, and for the glory of God. But, my dear friend, while my tongue is partially silent many dear spiritual people want a small token of my spiritual regard for them, by recommending the dear and adorable Saviour to them. As the pen of cruel slander, and daring calumny, has been so much employed against me, I want to employ my pen in writing of him, whom angels admire and saints adore; and whose dear name, I trust, you love, whose gospel you prize, and whose saints you esteem; and as a proof you love him, only reflect, in some silent secret moment, suppose he was to frown upon you in death, and disown you in the last great day. What an horror, grief, and misery do you feel in the thought! What, to be for ever banished from God!—from Jesus! O sad and dreadful idea; if the thought indulged is Hell enough to you, ’tis a proof you love him. And do you not feel, at times, a secret satisfaction, a sacred pleasure, when you hear or receive any new sweet thought of Jesus?—’tis because you love him. And should you not like to be favored with much communion with him, to open your whole heart to him, and find his whole heart open to you?—’tis because you love him. And if you hear a thing called a preacher, and he appear empty of Jesus, do you not feel disgusted at him?—’tis because you love him. When you hear his sacred name blasphemed, or in any sense slighted, do you not feel hurt at it, and pray that you may never be sent to Hell, among Devils, who will be for ever cursing it; but long to get to glory, where you will join with angels in always praising it?—’tis because you love him. If a person