LETTER CLII.

· REV. HENRY MARTYN to his SISTER, just after his college examination, 1800.

What a blessing it is for me that I have such a sister as you, my dear * * *, who have been so instrumental in keeping me in the right way. When I consider how little human assistance you have had, and the great knowledge to which you have attained on the subject of religion, especially observing the extreme ignorance of the most wise and learned of this world,-I think this is itself a mark of the wonderful influence of the Holy Ghost in the mind of well-disposed persons. It is certainly by the Spirit alone that we can have the will or power, or knowledge, or confidence to pray; and by him alone we come unto the Father through Jesus Christ. Through him we both have access by one spirit unto the Father." How I rejoice to find that we disagreed only about words! I did not doubt, as you suppose, at all about that joy which true believers feel. Can there be any one subject, any one source of cheerfulness and joy, at all to be compared with the heavenly serenity and comfort which such a person must find, in holding communion with his God and Saviour in prayer— in addressing God as his Father-and more than all, in the transporting hope, of being preserved unto everlasting life, and of singing praises to his

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Redeemer when time shall be no more. O, I do indeed feel this state of mind at times; but, at other times, I feel quite humbled at finding myself so cold and hard-hearted. That reluctance to prayer, that unwillingness to come unto God, who is the fountain of all good, when reason and experience tell us, that with him only true pleasure is to be found, seem to be owing to Satanic influence. Though I think my employment in life gives me peculiar advantages in some respects, with regard to religious knowledge, yet with regard to having a practical sense of things on the mind, it is by far the worst of any. For the labourer, as he drives on his plough, and the weaver who works at his loom, may have their thoughts entirely disengaged from their work; and may think with advantage upon any religious subject. But the nature of our studies requires such a deep abstraction of the mind from all things, as completely to render it incapable of any thing else during many hours of the day. With respect to the dealings of the Almighty with me, you have heard in general the chief of my account: as I am brought to a sense of things gradually, there is nothing peculiarly striking in it to particularize. After the death of our father you know I was extremely low spirited; and, like most other people, began to consider seriously, without any particular determination, that invisible world to which he was gone, and to which I must one day go. Yet, still I read the Bible unenlightened, and said a prayer or two, rather through terror of a superior power, than from any

other cause.

Soon, however, I began to attend more diligently to the words of our Saviour in the New Testament, and to devour them with delight: when the offers of mercy and forgiveness were made so freely, I supplicated to be made partaker of the covenant of grace, with eagerness and hope; and thanks be to the ever-blessed Trinity, for not leaving me without comfort. Throughout the whole, however, even when the light of divine truth was beginning to dawn on my mind, I was not under that great terror of future punishment, which I now see plainly I had every reason to feel. I look back now upon that course of wickedness, which, like a gulf of destruction, yawned to swallow me up, with a trembling delight mixed with shame, at having lived so long in ignorance, and error, and blindness. I could say much more, my dear ***, but I have no more room. I have only to express my acquiescence in most of your opinions, and to join with you in gratitude to God, for his mercies to us. May he preserve you and me, and all of us, to the day of the Lord.

HENRY MARTYN.

LETTER CLIII.

REV. ROBERT HALL (on his recovery from the second attack of his mental affliction) to WILLIAM HOLLICK, Esq.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Feb. 1, 1806.

Accept my sincere thanks for your kind letter. Every assurance of respect from old friends, and

especially from one whose friendship has been so long tried, and evinced on so many occasions, must afford much satisfaction to a person in any situation. Though Providence has produced a separation, which will probably be of long continuance, and, in one sense, final; nothing, I am certain, can efface from my mind those impressions of gratitude and esteem with which I shall ever look back on my connexions at Cambridge and its vicinity. With the deepest submission I wish to bow to the mandate of that awful, yet, I trust, paternal power, which, when it pleases, confounds all human hopes, and lays us prostrate in the dust. It is for him to dispose of his creatures as he pleases; and, if they be willing and obedient, to work out their happiness, though by methods the most painful and afflictive. His plans are infinitely extended, and his measures determined by views of that ultimate issue, that final result, which transcends our comprehension. It is with the sincerest gratitude I would acknowledge the goodness of God in restoring me. I am, as far as I can judge, as remote from any thing wild and irregular in the state of my mind as I ever was in my life; though I think, owing probably to the former increased excitation, I feel some abatement of vigour. My mind seems inert. During my affliction, I have not been entirely forsaken of God, nor left destitute of that calm trust in his providence, which was requisite to support me; yet I have not been favoured with that intimate communion, and that delightful sense of his love which I have enjoyed on former occa

sions. I have seldom been without a degree of composure, though I have had little consolation or joy. Such, with little variation, has been my mental state, very nearly from the time of my coming to the Fish-ponds; for I had not been here more than a fortnight, before I found myself perfectly recovered, though my pulse continued too high. It has long subsided, and exhibits, the doctor assures me, every indication of confirmed health.

Please to remember me affectionately and respectfully to your cousin, and all inquiring friends, as if named.

I am, my dear Sir,

Your affectionate and obliged friend,

ROBERT HALL.

LETTER CLIV.

REV. ROBERT HALL to MRS. ANGAS, of Newcastle-upon

Tyne.

DEAR MADAM,

Though I have nothing particular to communicate, I knew not how to let Mrs. O proceed to Newcastle without dropping a line to acknowledge your kind letter, and present my gratitude for the interest you are pleased to take in my welfare. The esteem of the pious and excellent of the earth, I always consider as a very distinguished privi