Every thing I see every where tends to prove and fix me in my religious views and principles. I see but one difficulty, and that is to determine whether careless men are more fools or madmen. Verily, that, which is done, says the Psalmist, on earth, God doth it himself: and, verily, that, which he doth, he doth by the Gospel; for where it is not in influence, there is nothing but tearing up the bowels of the earth to cast in the face of heaven. Collieries and Founderies, with the tremendous blasts which they force into them day and night, resemble nothing but Hell; and the men in EVERY respect suit the place, which at night makes the country seem on fire for miles round. The horrid yells they make when an operation takes place, joined to the roaring of the flames and engines, is up to any thing in poetry or imagination; and, therefore, as you must understand, met my mind and detained my attention, when the Ladies and some of the Gentlemen were glad to retire. But the worst is, in these scenes and in the chambers of the most delicate work, all—all is wickedness--boys and girls-men and women, mixed and half-nakedcorrupt and corrupting. This is a moral stench, as well as a natural one; and I have lived to deplore a great manufactory on many solid grounds. Yet have I plainly discovered some dirty greasy angels-men whose black faces beam with heavenly light. Had I seen these assume wings, and become white as snow, and mount toward heaven, I should not have felt that half so great an act of power had been put forth. The Lord clothe you with his Divine Power! I will pray earnestly for you: but remember it is our joint work; and it shall prevail, till we shall need to pray no more, and I no more remain your affectionate Husband, but your fellow-Heir, and Brother, in everlasting life. R. C. LETTER IX. MY DEAR LOVE PLEASING is a nice art: it requires nice pencilling: daubing wont do. Shade after shade-neither one thing nor another, but EVERY THING makes a picture. A man must neither be contented, when his wife is absent, nor discontented. His family must be in peace, that his wife may be happy: but she is very unhappy, if it is! Woe betide her, if her servants are well and peaceable, and her children well and asleep---Husband contented with his lot, &c. &c.! Unfortunately for you, this is the case, and you are much to be pitied---but let this be your consolation, that there are unhappier women on earth. To be serious---what I wrote respecting our quietism was to make you quiet, happy, and satisfied: it was to make you enjoy better your present moment. We are not so well without you as you seem to think. I can assure you that whatever be the case of servants---or children, who are too young to distinguish between their right hand and left, and to whom friends and enemies are the same--I can assure you, with the greatest truth, that, with you, I have OFTEN wished to share some of my most pleasant moments---and that ought to suffice a wife. MY DEAR LOVE-- LETTER X. I DON'T know if there is not something absurd, in my writing you a letter, which perhaps you will not receive many hours before I should see you myself: but, as I did not write, as I intended, on Friday, I thought you might be uneasy if the post did not deliver one on Monday. I have rode 66 miles to-day; and am too much tired for any company except yours; for that would contribute, at this moment, to my rest, as well as pleasure. Indeed you have become too necessary to me, and sometimes occupy my mind in too vivid a degree; and perhaps it is expedient that this should be abated, and ought to be Well---I have said this, to let you see I am capable of meeting your ideas, more than (from the interference of clogs and impediments) some are ready to suppose. However, affliction has made me, under divine influence, a much SOFTER creature than heretofore; and I think others will perceive it, as well as you. I am sensibly alive to your regard and affection toward me, which has been only too great; and demands a return, which the quantity of bone put into my frame is too apt to prevent me from properly making: this must be my excuse to my sweet wife when I grieve her. The subject of self-denial has much occupied my mind of late. It is a matter that cannot be too often considered, that real happiness, health, order, peace, and beauty depend on SELFDENIAL. If nature, in its wild state and wishes and indulgent sensualities, is to be humoured, a dose of poison is brewing---a scourge for the fool's back is preparing---like drunkards, who sit down in good humour to tipple, but soon proceed to black eyes. "No man e'er found a happy life by chance, Even the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent only take it by force. So that perfect peace must be won by perpetual war---and the health of the spirit by the DEATH OF THE FLESH. There are, indeed, some who pretend to have discovered a cheaper way of obtaining these things; but I never yet met with one who could show his bargain: so that I have fresh evidence of my old maxim---That religion will cost us something, but the want of it infinitely more. I say, however, these things, as much to call my own mind to recollection as yours. And we cannot assist one another too much in this way— LETTER XI. MY DEAREST LOVE-- Little James Street. WE are all led more by our feelings than our judgments, and sometimes even than our duty: and therefore I gratify mine in writing to you, when I should be otherwise employed; and, even though I think it probable I shall deliver the letter myself tomorrow morning--but I have suffered much last night on your account, or rather on my own. Dr. U. said some things last night on the danger of such complaints as yours; and, though it was but general conversation, I began to make something out of it. You know what the cruel ingenuity of the imagination is, so that I lay awake last night; or, I may say, stood on a precipice from which I did not dare to look down, and from which, like a man fixed by enchantment, I could not remove. You must know how fondly we imagine, that, if we were PRESENT with a sick friend, they would, somehow or other, be in less danger. This is constantly my feeling, for my anxiety abates when I see you; especially since you seemed to go forward. I have always felt, that, if I could see my CHILDREN taken to Abraham's bosom---then I should wish you not so much to call it their death as their ESCAPE---and comfort myself; but I do not feel this respecting YOU. I am too much interested: and always recur to the consideration "What must I do? Whither must I go?"---and this thought so much affects me, that, considering I ought to prepare for public service, I ought not to write nor think any more at present on the subject. LETTER XII. MY DEAREST LOVE-- IN all things that respect your present journey, your health is to be first considered, and then your pleasure. I shall again say, let not my desire to see you prevent your enjoying either to the utmost of your wish or judgment: but, when I say this, do not suppose I therefore am unconcerned whether you come home or no. I have never had such a feeling for a moment since you left me; and I pray God nothing may ever arise to cause it to exist, for any unhappy interval, however SHORT. Come home whenever you see it proper: and, if I can give you another journey with myself this year, I will. You may depend upon it I shall be doubly watchful over the children, and be very faithful to my promise to tell you truly the state of affairs. Your little daughter goes to Church three times a day, much in the spirit of too many of my hearers. She, however, behaves very well. I suppose you must be weary, by this time, of looking on the sea. Endeavour, therefore, to turn your eyes to a greater ocean, and "Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore, Of that vast Ocean you must sail so soon!" I am highly gratified in hearing from you; but should rather you would come than send. The workmen will have finished very soon, and all things be ready for your reception. While my house is setting in order, I cannot look on any part without thinking of what MUST follow, and may very soon--Thou shalt die, and not live. The great Mr. Howe has written a long and fine discourse on "the Vanity of Man:" should we think this necessary? Nor would it be so, were men SOBER; but means must be used to convince drunken men, that they are not only drunken but dying men. Pray make use of your present leisure for winding up your minds in spirituals. Every thing else (that is not necessary for the pilgrimage) is worse than folly. It is one grand advantage in death, that we shall get clear of these rocks and sands for ever. In the mean time, there is ONE rock here, upon which a man may stand and smile. The Lord bless you, my Dear Creature, and him, with you, who remains, &c. &c. LETTER XIII. -You cannot think how much I felt in leaving you in that solitary place, so like exile; and though I wish you to stay as long as you feel it necessary for the child, yet I shall be glad to hear that you feel it no longer so. The children are quite well, and our little son has quite forgotten you and me and the whole world, by reason of a new hoop which he trundles without ceasing. It would be well if new trifles and old ones were confined to children of his age. |