I AM but weak, but my soul is kept in peace. Who can express the blessing of feeling Christ our friend every moment? Indeed, I see no other way to profit my soul, but to come the present moment, as I am, to Jesus: He never sends me empty away. If I wish any thing, it is for more opportunity for private prayer. Between the sick, the afflicted, and those seeking the Lord, I have very little time to myself. However, I feel no desire, but to do and suffer his will. While I speak to you, I taste his goodness, above what words can describe. He knoweth, I desire to glorify him, to be altogether his, and to feel him all my own. I know of nothing in my soul, which is not given up to God. Pray him to examine and prove me, and to supply what is lacking. * * * * * To Mrs. _J. C. M._ _November 29, 1761._ I KNOW nothing of myself. But I know and feel, that God is love. I feel, I love him in a measure, and long for full conformity to Jesus. My soul is happy in him; and though I have not what I used to think was implied in the blessing which has been poured out upon many, yet I have (what I am not sufficiently thankful for) a deeper union with the source of blessedness, a constant sense of his unmerited love, and a knowledge that I am less than the least of all saints. I am persuaded, nothing shall separate me from the Lord Jesus. From him is my fruit found. In him are the springs of consolation, which revive and endue my soul with much strength. I trust in him, and know in whom I trust: therefore life or death is equal. Labour still for all the Spirit’s peaceful fruit. Jesus will bless your attempts to glorify him. He will make you unblameable in love before men, and unreproveable before God. Know, that the eye of earth and heaven is upon you. Many wait for your halting: More, I trust, wish you success in the name of the Lord: I am sure I do, and therefore write without reserve. Take heed of your own understanding. Do not suffer yourself to think of it, but with abasement, that you have made no better use of it. Excuse this freedom: the motive is love unfeigned. I find the fruit of the cross even while I write. I sit under the shadow of my beloved, and feel him sustaining my soul. O Jesus, great is thy goodness! great is thy mercy! even toward the meanest, me! Bless, I pray thee, the sister of my spirit. Let her “Antedate the joys above: Ever feel her Saviour’s love.” I feel my insufficiency to speak of the goodness of God. It is more than I can express. He deals tenderly with me; and if I follow the best pattern, I shall be patient towards all. I have felt much bodily weakness, but no power to chuse its removal or continuance. I seem to enjoy all I want, while I pursue what I have not attained. I am daily more sensible how little I am. I think never one soul so utterly wanted a complete Saviour.