others, but can make no application to myself. There is something within that tells me he will return again, and that I shall thrive as the corn, and grow as the vine. So that I am not left without a witness, nor has my master left himself without a proxy. But, when this prophecy is fulfilled, I shall be brought into another strait: if I flourish in the study, I fear I shall wither in the pulpit. When the fleece is wet, the floor is often dry, and how can I eat my morsel alone, and see the family dried up like a potsherd? This has often been the case: therefore I wot not which to choose; my present languid frame of body and mind, under which the household is banqueted; or my future feast, while they keep Lent.

What little I can do at present, must be near home. I can by no means come to Peckham till I get rid of my present pack and package. I shall add no more, but a caution to you, and to all the friends of religion, never to speak or write against any sort of furniture that has passed under sacred consecration; for it appears to me, that every good man is bound, by the eternal laws of charity, to keep a chafingdish for the use of himself, and his neighbours. I am, sir,

HEAT, rage, and fury, passion, fume, and pet,
Encompass'd Jesus when he paid my debt!
This tragic scene completes redemption's plan,
And holy passion ransom'd ruin'd man!
Meekness and pity cope with burning ire;
Vindictive Justice will contend by fire!
Vengeance and mercy, each their part perform :
We find the shelter, he endur'd the storm!

WHEN Christ and sinners first in union meet,
They rest together, and they both have heat.
I'll never say to heat, Depart! begone!
While Wisdom asks, Can one be warm alone?
O sacred flame! be thou my ardent wish,
The golden censer, or the chafingdish!

'Tis these shall make my languid incense rise,
And send her rich perfumes above the skies.
"Tis hallow'd fire prepares the gospel feast,
And every saint that's made a royal priest.
The starving soul must meet with sordid fare,
Unless some burning, shining light, be there.
'Twas holy fire that cook'd the Levite's lot;
That lit his lamps, and kept his offerings hot.
The gospel net still takes the mystic fishes:
Who serve them up, must have their chafingdishes.
A lukewarm state is neither good nor safe;
The holy spouse in jealous flames could chafe.
Let none this hallow'd furniture traduce,

The chafingdish is not enough in use.

Let the King hear us when we call.

LETTER XV.

To the Rev. Mr. HUNTINGTON.

MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,

I HAVE had the satisfaction of knowing you now

upwards of twenty years. At our first acquaintance, you was an exact portrait of Job's wild ass's colt; and never was I more surprised than when I first saw you in a pulpit! But I perceived that God had sent out the wild ass free, and loosed the bands of the wild ass. The Lord having at that time quickened my soul, I knew the voice, felt the power, and divine union took place, which I hope will ever continue.

I have perused most of your writings, but find few exceed the enclosed, which you sent me when I lived on Hounslow Heath, and which I wish you to publish in your present Epistles of Faith, and that without any correction or human decoration, unpolished, unembellished, and I say unadulterated; that your readers may have the satisfaction of seeing an original.

As the letter is without date, according to custom, I cannot certainly say how long it was ago; but I think it must be upwards of fourteen years. My reason for desiring to have it published

is, because of the simplicity of it. A few days ago, I was looking over the many epistles I have received from you, and I found a savour in them; therefore wished others to partake of the savoury meat, not willing to eat my morsel alone.

Your room is still vacant; but Jannet, of late, has talked of letting the lodgings, as they are so seldom occupied. You know it has been otherwise formerly; but times are now altered, therefore we must expect to meet with many disappointments.

You see I write without any of those compliments which the clergy in general expect, without adding even the title S. S. But conclude in joint affection, attended with our best wishes.

Petersham, near Richmond, Oct. 6. 1790.

JOHN & JANNET CHAPMAN.

LETTER. XVI.

To Mr. CHAPMAN.

DEARLY BELOVED IN THE LORD,

I RECEIVED

RECEIVED yours, and will comply with your

request. The letter shall be printed without any

embellishments or alterations, any farther than is necessary to make it imitate common sense.

It is but seldom that places of pleasure, like Richmond, produce much of an harvest for God. The seed sown there has fallen chiefly by the way-side, on stony, or on thorny ground. That field has not, as yet, appeared white, ready to harvest; nor is there any likelihood of it, especially while the Lord's day is the only day in the week for business. I have long laboured there, and to little purpose. You know I must preach the gospel to other cities also, for therefore am I sent.

As another door is opened unto me in Southwark, it will not be in my power to visit you often at Richmond. Besides, for the time, you ought to be teachers yourselves, instead of needing one to teach you again, who have long since known the first principles of the oracles of God. You are not become such as have need of milk, you are able to digest strong meat; which is a proof of your being of full age, able to admonish one another, and to hold forth the word of life, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God. My lodgings cannot be let. Any thing de voted or consecrated to the priest's use, according to the ancient laws, might be redeemed, by paying the estimation of the priest; but it could neither be let for hire, nor sold. Corban, it is a gift: therefore your spouse cannot be profited by letting of it.

At present, my tabernacle is weak; various