I remain, yours in him, _Ruhamah_. LETTER III. _Achor’s Vale_, _June_ 17, 1818. Mr. & Mrs. H—L, Jun. MY DEAR FRIENDS, Amidst the severest trials I am wading through this week, I cannot forget you both. Surety you must be ready to exclaim with pious David, “Deep calleth into deep;” and with afflicted Job, “Thou breakest me with breach upon breach.” Your afflictions are great indeed, I think deeper than I could bear; the Lord has visited your house, but O! what a sweet thought, it is a visit of _love_, of _mercy_ to you, but of _love_ indeed, to the tender babes. You will go to them through the same mercy and love, but it would be neither love not mercy to let _them_ return to you. Dear, much esteemed Friends, I can feel for you, I have been called to the same trouble, in part, nor shall I ever fully forget what I then felt, when the soul of my dear daughter took its flight, and when I laid her dust in the silent receptacle for suffering mortality, but _it was well_; the Lord demands, has demanded _his_ own, they were _his_ property, and _he_ gave Mrs. Hill the honor to bear them, with this charge, Take these children and nurse them for _me_, _not_ for sin, _nor_ for the world, _nor_ for Satan, but for God—Selah. Nature no doubt, most sensibly feels the stroke, but may the good hand of God support you, and the full assurance of meeting them again, bear up your sinking spirits like pillars of marble. I am anxious to know how you are in mind and body, and assure you I can weep with you, but I am fully persuaded you will see vast wisdom in this stroke another day. Had you, Mrs. H. been laid upon a sick and dying bed, while they were in helpless infancy, it would have distressed your poor heart to leave them, exposed to nobody knows _what_ mother they might have. A mother is every thing, this I can only know from observation, but I observe among many unhappy persons I meet with in this place, that they were either deprived of a tender mother, which began their troubles, _or_ that they had used a mother ill, and God never prospered them after it. O my dear friends the Lord has delivered you from many an heart-breaking sorrow, and from much misery. Those dear creatures will afflict you, they will trouble you _no_ more for ever, either your heart or your head. You are afflicted, the loss is great, they were dear to your heart, but you are called to sacrifice them, to restore them to their right owner; and while your feelings struggle with God’s will, methinks I hear the Saviour say, “Suffer them to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is my kingdom composed.” It has been the opinion of some blessed men of God, that the majority of saved persons in glory, are children. On _those_ the Lord has magnified the