I wish your prison may be a paradise of peace, and a _Patmos_ of divine discoveries, _Lord Jesus set to thy Amen_. I am, Sir, _Your unworthy brother and companion in the kingdom and patience of Jesus_, JOS. ALLEINE. _January 10, 1664._ LETTER XXX. _To the most beloved people, the servants of God in |Taunton|, salvation._ _Most dearly beloved and longed for, my joy and crown._ MY heart’s desire and prayer for you is, that you may be saved. This is that which I have been praying and studying, and preaching for these many _years_: and this is the end of my suffering, and writing at this present time. I seek not other gifts, give me your hearts, let me but part between your sins and you: suffer me but to save you; give me leave to carry you over to Jesus Christ, and I will not ask you any more. I will serve you gladly, I will suffer for you thankfully, so I may but save you. Do not wonder why I follow you so pressingly, why I call upon you so frequently; let not my importunity be grievous to you, all this is but to save you. Christ did not think his blood, and shall I think my breath too dear in order to your salvation; what pity is it, that any of you should miscarry at last, under the power of ignorance, or by a profane negligence, or a formal and lifeless profession of strict godliness? Beloved, I am afraid of you, lest (as to many of you) I have run in vain. I cannot but thankfully acknowledge, that there are not a few of you who are the joy of your ministers, and the glory of Christ. But it cannot be dissembled, that far the greater number give little ground to hope, they are in the state of salvation. And must not this be a pinching thought to a compassionate teacher, that he cannot persuade men, but that the most of them will wilfully throw away themselves? Is it not a woeful sight, to behold the devils driving a great part of our miserable flocks, (as they did once the herd of swine) violently down the hill, till they be choaked in the water, drowned in the gulph of endless perdition? Ah miserable spectacle! What through the wilful blindness of some, the looseness and sensuality of others, the halving, and cold, and customary religion of others, how great a number of our poor flocks, is Satan like to carry utterly away from us, after all that hath been done to save him?