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me. And first, Jesus is altogether lovely to me: he is my Godand my all. This is the mountain on which I sland, and behold his foes beneath his feet. Nevertheless, I find Satan will strike, though he cannot destroy. The Lord, for the establishing of my faith, has permitted his work to be tried as by fire. Both by out. ward trials and by inward crucifixion, for which I can praise him, and say with humble boldness, in the midst of all, his yoke is easy and his burthen is light. My temptations are various: sometimes I am tempted to believe, all the work in my foul is a delusion: at other times, that I shall fall from grace, and bring a reproach on the Gospel: and again, to reason, "Why am I thus, if God had done this for me?" But they are as a flash of lightning: they have not the least rest on my foul, being quenched by faith in Jesus. But O! how shall I paint my own weakness and helplessness? My entire dependance is on the blood of Jefus? I do indeed feel a momentary salvation: "Every moment, Lord, I want the merit of thy death." I deeply feel, it is Jefus, not me, that keeps my garments unspotted from the world. It is now I feel, I am nothing, I have nothing, and must fall, if I do not continually receive strength from an inexhaustible fountain. My foul is fometimes led to meditate on the depths of redeeming love, God manifest in the flesh, to destroy the works of the devil. But I am foon loft in wonder, love and praise, and cry out, O the length, the breadth, the height! There are seasons, at which my foul is taken from all but Jefus; as it were shut up, abstracted from all earthly objects. These are seasons of solemn, filent love, in which I feel there is a rooting and grounding. My foul longs for them; and in the enjoyment of them, is ready to cry out with Peter, "It is good to be here;" but is filenced with those words, " Not my will, but thine be done!" I am continually offered up as a facrifice: feeling I am not my own. I long for more of that life, which is hid with Christ in God. I never, in my life, faw my fall from God so deep as I see it now. It is the

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cafe in all things, and particularly in the body being a clog to the foul. Sometimes I long to lay the burden down: but I fear, that is my own will. Lord, let thy Spirit teach me in all things! Satan leaves no stone unturned, nor art untried to shake my confidence: and to make others shut their eyes against the truth. But the Lord will fight his own battles. I have often a fight of the pit from whence I was taken, which finks me into nothing: and I conclude, there never was one saved from such a depth before. I beg leave to subscribe myself

Your most unworthy Follower,

MARY JONES.

LETTER CCCLIV.

[From Mrs. M. S. to the Rev. J. Wesley.]

Dear Sir,

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Bristol, Jan. 5, 1772.

LESSED be God, for the great help your last letter afforded me! Your very kind caution, with regard to Satan's devices I acknowledge with thankfulness. I find him a fubtle foe; watching every opportunity of affaulting my confidence. But, The Lion of the Tribe of Judah has hitherto been victorious. I do not know, but I have, in some meafure, listened to the enemy in the point you mentioned; and, through a fear of arrogating any thing to myself, have not acknowledged the work of God as I ought.

I have been reading your Thoughts on Perfection, and have found great assistance in so doing. Many things that

I could not account for, you have clearly explained.

I defire to praise God that I experience an increase of spiritual life, and feel greater union with the holy Jefus. I can now give him my whole heart. I find my every defire centre in him, and rejoice in feeling, I am not my own, Prayer is the element of my foul. By it, my heart offers itself to the Redeemer, and makes all its requests known unto him. He makes the throne of grace easy of access; and it is by continual coming to it, I feel my heaven begun.

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With regard to zeal, I praise God, I feel a desire to spend, and be spent for him. I never found so much of this, as I have lately. My heart is enflamed with strong defire to speak for him I love, who has done so much for me. The mourners in Sion are peculiarly near to me. O, how ready do I fee Jesus to bless them! How willing to receive them!

I am, Rev. Sir,

Your's affectionately,

M. S.

LETTER

CCCLV.

[From Mrs. Margaret Wood, to the Rev. J. Wesley.]

Rev. Sir,

Bristol, Jan. 7, 1772

IT T has long been on my mind to give fome Account of God's dealings with my foul.

About the year 1745, I first heard you preach. Under the third Sermon I was cut to the heart. When I went home, I faid to my mother, Mr. Wesley has told me all things that ever I did: and asked her, have not you been writing to him concerning me? She answered, No, my dear child: it was the Spirit of God that told him. From this time I continued under the word, and was enabled to lay aside my besetting fin. After some weeks the Lord manifested himself unto me. I retained my confidence for some, months; and it was my meat and drink to do his will. I had

had a defire to join the Society, but my husband would not let me. He also insisted on my not going to hear you preach. On my obeying him, my besetting fin got dominion overme: in which state I continued seven years, drinking in iniquity like water. O the long-fuffering of God to such a rebel! Why did he not cut me down?

About the year 1752, God took away my husband; and having four children, I was obliged to sell one piece of furniture after another to buy bread for them. Having only the furniture of one room left, I fet up a school, which was a little help to me; but not fufficient for such a family: therefore I often went to bed hungry, and continued so all the next day. My oldest fon, who was a dutiful child, being abroad, news came that he was dead. Being fwallowed up of grief, I heard a voice saying, If thou wilt return, return: then these words were brought to my mind, Weep not for me, but for thyself. On this my fins were brought to my remembrance, and I mourned on my own account. In a short time my second son was taken from me by the hands of cruel men. Three months after, the Lord took my youngest son. I now began to cry aloud, Lord, my sins have found me out! My distress so increased, that I almost forgot to eat what little food I had. My former acquaintances stood afar off: I had no one that cared for me. I now remembered my mother's dying words, "My child, if thou wilt seek the Lord with thy whole heart, he will raise thee up friends where thou little thinkest." I now came under the word again, and intreated God to look in mercy upon me. On hearing a sermon on these words, " And Jesus looking on the young man, loved him." I received a spark of hope: yet I went on for some months, sometimes hoping, at others despairing. One evening as I was going to the preaching, all the way I went my cry was, Lord, what must I do to be saved? As soon as I entered the room

Mr. Hs named that text, which was made a great bleffing

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blessing to me. I went home, begging for faith, and continued doing fo for fome weeks.

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About this time, the Lord brought you to Bristol; and as you were preaching from, "Behold, now is the accepted time," the word went to my heart, and I did receive him as my Lord and my God. Now how sweet was his word to me! I read the scriptures with delight. I could believe all the promises were for me. But all this time I was not joined to the Society. I had so high an opinion of it, that I thought it was not for such a vile creature as me. However I was prevailed on to give in my name, and found the Class and Band-meeting of great use to me.

I now went on praising the Lord for his restoring love; but he shewed me, that he had a greater work to do; and on his uncovering my inbred corruptions, my foul was weighed down. O, what strugglings did I feel! It was hard travail indeed!

On Sept. 21, 1761, you preached on the second verse of the 107th Pfalm. I went home and prayed all night. At last these words were brought to my mind, I will cleanse thee from all thy filthiness.

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Tuesday the 22d, your text was in the seventeeth chapter of the first Book of Samuel. Glory be to God, that night my Goliah was flain! But I thought, I would not tell it to any body: but when I went to meet my Band, my dear Leader faid, "Sister W. the Lord has done great things for you: your very countenance tells me so." She went to prayer, and O, what a fire of love did the Lord kindle in each breast! I was conftrained to cry aloud, Jesus is my King! my God and my All! O, what a testimony did the Lord give us of his love! We could not part: but he continued four hours praising our dear Emmanuel.

For these three years past, I have not found so much of that joy as I used to have; yet an awful sense of the divine presence rests continually on me. O, how does it abase my

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