I would now ask how is my dear afflicted companion in tribulation Mr. M. I trust our dear Lord has appeared for him in his kind providence, and that the Saviour is precious to his soul; I am begging the Lord to teach me how to live a life of faith on the Son of God. Christ himself, when here below, lived and died in faith, and the Apostle said, He lived on Christ as crucified, as his righteousness, his intercessor, his head and representative. This is the life I want to live; but then I find there is no life but as it is given me daily, nor can I exercise this life of faith, but as power is given from above. We live by virtue of being quickened by the spirit, though we often get dead, dark, cold, carnal, and lifeless, so that we can hardly call it a life. But the Apostle says, Not I, but Christ liveth in me. I want my dear Mrs. M. to notice this expression. I hope, as a Child of God, and as deeply tried, I am alive in your mind, I _exist_, I _live_ in your mind—you often think of me, but you cannot do for me what you would: I take the will for the deed. Now, as we see what it is for a friend to live in us, the subject is clear to you: Christ has an existence in your mind, as you have heard of him; this is the difference between a worldling and a believer; the former hears of Christ, that is enough for him; the other not only _hears_, but Christ has a _place_ in the mind, as he is set forth in the word: the will makes choice of him, the affections are fixed on him, faith trusts in him, hope expects him, patience waits for him, love enjoys him, and, as our views enlarge, and power is given to see him taking away sin, conscience enjoys peace with God, because it is given to faith to see God is everlastingly at peace with us. Well may the Apostle say, Lord increase our faith; this is what I want, and I hope my much-loved friends are favoured with it. I am at present in the furnace but the Lord regulates the heat, and I am at times so happy I really dont want to come out of it; but sometimes it is so hot, all the dross and tin of my rebellion boils up, and I am astonished the Lord ever lets me live at all. I wonder at his patience and forbearance, and when I taste his mercy and love, my affections are led out to him again, and I long to get to glory to praise him as I desire to do. I have much to be thankful for; my wants are supplied, and the Lord is with me, so that it is better with me now than the last two years of my liberty; the Lord has both pardoned and subdued my sins, and he is leading me on in the divine life—only the weather is cold, nights are long, my company is bad, and I have hardly time or place for reading or writing, except what I get by stealth. How long this trial will last, I know not, I long for it to be over, but I fear I shall loose my sweet seasons. My heart is overcome with grief, when I think of the poor _Packet Distress_: she is out at sea, in the dark and in the deep. I want my heart fixed at all times,