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I am sure God's judgments are abroad in the earth; O! that he would be pleased to grant me an application of the atonement which causes a godly fora row, and a repentance that needs never to be repented of, that I may be hid in the day of his fierce anger. :

You, Sir, know more about me, I believe, than any man living, and I often think mine is a very singular case; but I know nothing is too hard for the Lord. I am very sure not one of Christ's sheep shall be lost; no, nor one hoof left behind: not all the art of Satan, nor all his legions combined together, shall finally deceive one of his feep. I feel myself a leper, a miserable sinner, in great need of being cleansed, very much hungering and thirsting after Jesus, knowing none but he can do me gocd. O! that he would see me again (for I think I have had a distant view of him), that my heart may rejoice! I go to no place of worship here, for I am in great doubt of all the ministers that I know; I am more and more convinced that they can beget only their own likeness: it was the false apostles chat bewitched the Galacians, and I verily believe the false ministers bewitch all their hearers; little do they suppose that they receive Satan by the man. This I believe, which causes me to stay at home, though I am kept wrestling and pleading night and day, and searching the scriptures, for which I desire to thank God. I am in good hopes my wife will be a comfort to me, I think I can see something in

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her for good: my conversation leads to the awful end every one must make that dies out of Christ, and the need of knowing for ourselves pardon and peace; indeed she herself is sure of it. I am thankful to God you bear me on your mind; if it should be so that I can get from this Mount Sinai, I never desire to come here again. I ain at times in very great distress and heavy affliction; when it is well with me you will soon hear of it. The Lord is good to me in providence, and has been pleased to take my mind in a great measure off from this world.

May the good Lord bless you in your family, and crown your labours with success, is the sincere prayer of your affectionate friend

D. M.

New York.

LETTER

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As a correspondent, my dear friend, I am fomewhat like a horse that fetches his work, I can only move by fits and starts. Sometimes I have a heart to will, but no time; and again, plenty of time, but no heart. When the matter contained in a letter is pressed, squeezed, and forced, it is but poor dry fare; but when it runs and flows freely, the pen moves with pleasure, and a little moisture attends it. Various are the changes and different operations of the Spirit upon an awakened sinner. Darkness, deadness, and confusion, will more or less attend him, till the book of God becomes a puzzle, and the sinner himself a riddle; but this serves to stain the pride of his glory, it proves his wisdom to be folly, and his knowledge to be consummate ignorance: hence the paradox, “ If any man will be « wise, let him become a fool that he may be « wise."

God, saith the prophet, goes forth with whirlwinds of the fouth; which he did when a mighty wind

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Thook the house where the apostles were assembled, and they were filled with the Holy Ghost; they then went forth and wrought, and the Lord worked with them, confirming their word with signs. This wind does all the execution on the hearts of poor finners to this day.'

The voice said, Cry: What shall I cry ?-That all flesh is grass, and all the glory thereof as the flower of grass; the grass withereth, the flower fadeth, because the Spirit of God bloweth upon it. Under this operation all our glorying in our own strength, valour, wisdom, knowledge, pleasure, carnal delights, withers: we cannot flourish, thrive, grow, or appear alive to any of these things-convictions, guilt, shame, fear, torment, and a dread of damnation, makes us sick of such entertainments. When fin was dead, and we alive without the law, these things were our glory; but now sin is revived, and we are dead, and cannot feed upon foolishness, nor fill our belly with the east wind any longer.

Prophecy, son of man, to the wind, that the wind may blow upon these dry bories, that they may live. This gale makes us feel ourselves fick, fore, tender, poor, and needy; we hunger, thirst, long, desire, crave, cry, confess, pray, feek, search, watch, hope, expect, and catch at every thing heard, seen, felt, or found, that will give us the least encouragement. But unbelief, hardness of heart, rebellion, enmity, Satan's allaults, fear and cornicht, shame

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and confusion, all militate against the poor soul in this labour and travail.

The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the found thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh and whither it goeth; so is every one born of the Spirit. When this mystical birth is to be produced, the clouds of divine displeasure begin to disperse, the dismal gloom, terrors, and horrors, begin to subside, the old veil of darkness, blindness, confufion, and ignorance, disappear; the storms of Sinai cease to roll, and divine vengeance ceases to lower, the dark regions of the shadow of death vanish and appear more remote, the gates of hell closed, the darts of Satan are more broken, blunt, and less piercing; our thoughts all assemble and hover over Jesus, the heart enlarges, hope rises, faith moves towards him and embraces him, when love by the Spirit flows in, when fear and torment fee out.

So is every one that is born of the Spirit.-Now faith, hope, love, joy, peace, patience, meekness, gentleness, goodness, temperance, all thew themfelves as so many jewels to deck the foul, which, with the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, together with the best robe, makes the poor finner a perfection of beauty ; but after a few months of this feasting and banquetting comes the furnace to try every grace, and especially that of faith. Here Christ withdraws, heaven frowns, Providence runs counter to the promise; corruptions move, Satan comes, fear rises, prayer fags, the breasts of conso

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