FOR THE CHRISTIAN'S MAGAZINE. Letters from Mrs. Harriet Backus. Canaan, March, 1802. IF I were not writing to a Christian friend, who, I hope, possesses that "charity which suffereth long, and is kind," I should deem an apology necessary. In truth, I am ashamed that I have not answered your letter before, and fulfilled my promise. Something has always prevented, and we are too apt to excuse ourselves for the omission of duty. But, my dear, it is a sweet commission from on high, to encourage, to exhort daily, and provoke each other to good works. Though I feel my own weakness, and blush at my stupidity, when I think of exhorting others, still, I trust, my heart's desire and prayer to God is, for the salvation of Israel; and I would thankfully and humbly improve the "talent" I have received, to the glory of my Maker. But why do we want exhorting? Why should these stupid hearts want any thing to animate them to love a Saviour who has so highly commended his love to us, as to die for us while we were sinners? Not us only, but, as Dr. Young says, "for our species up in arms-a rebel universe." Is it not an undeniable evidence of our depravity, that after all which has been done for our souls, we should still want something more to "provoke us to love," and to good works? Yes, 一, well may we be ashamed of such stupidity; well may we exclaim with the poet, "Are we of such hell-hardened steel, that mercy cannot move?" I had little opportunity of conversing with you last winter, but I learned from you, that your hope increased, and that you had been quickened, and was happier than formerly. I desire to join with you, in giving God glory for undeserved mercies. His promises are gracious, and their fulfilment sweeter than honey to the taste. "If any man love me, I will come unto him, and will manifest myself unto him." Blessed Jesus, what delicious fare! Love is the evidence of our adoption. In vain do we look back on past joys for comfort, while our hearts are cold towards God. As well may we look for the blossoms of spring, amidst the frosts of winter. A present God is all that can delight us. Past experience may be comforting at times, but will not satisfy the hungry soul: like the manna in the wilderness, it must be daily sought, and daily found. How much, then, my brother in Christ, does it behoove us, to live near to our Saviour! How ought our lives to be hid with Christ in God, that we may hourly taste the riches of his grace! Canaan, June 28, 1802. I AM sick of it." - Not of thee, oh my Redeemer! Not of the religion thou diedst to enforce ! Not of the duties it enjoins! Not of the humility thy example has recommended! Not of the persecution and ridicule which thou sustainedst, and which all who live godly in thee shall receive! Not of any thing that relates to thy holy nature, will, or commandments! but of that sin, that hateful vileness, which is so utterly opposed to thy blessed character. Yes, I am sick of it; sick of these evil propensities, these indwelling corruptions, these vain, delusive pleasures, this ensnaring world that would fain make me leave the only living and true God, for the worship of its perishing idols. I am walking over a sea of vanity, and heaven is my object. Oh Lord, I set out with faith like Peter's, to meet my Master, confident of strength! Now, "save or I perish." The hidden evil of the natural heart, -, is a disclosure that God mingles with mercy; nay, its disclosure, under any circumstances, is the height of mercy, as it induces the sinner to flee from the monster self, to the only refuge of safety. But to have that mental blindness, removed by degrees, which is the only cause of our feeling safe; to have grace and mercy keeping pace with our self-knowledge; to have displays of the meanness of our vileness; and yet witness that support which bids faith fail not; which prevents hope from expiring, is, oh! it is among those wonders of mercy, to which the golden harps of the redeemed shall be for ever attuned. Oh! my -, there may we fall, and the humblest of the humble in that blest choir, sound grace-grace-grace -on all the strings! Before I had a hope that Jesus was my friend, I felt convicted of my wretchedness, yet too proud to go to Calvary for relief. I was like a bird that would have built her nest, but knew not where. In vain did I gather sticks and straws; my duties would not save from the pangs of conscience; yet, I prayedI prayed that God would show me the extent of my depravity; that he would give me a view of my own heart. But now, well may I magnify that mercy which was deaf to my petition. I saw I was stout against the Lord; yet, I secretly said, "what have I spoken so much against thee?" I have since believed, that if my prayer had been answered-if I had seen myself as I was, and as I have since seen, when there was " no deliverer near," nature must have sunk, and I have been lifting up my eyes in anguish. Do you ever feel afraid of this world? or is your faith so strong, your love so ardent, that you fear not principalities or powers? If it is, you can pray for a poor child that feels trembling, weak, and fearful; and "the faithful, fervent prayer of the righteous, availeth much." I have no confidence, but in the strength of Christ. My heart once promised fair, that it would be for ever entirely devoted to his service; and when I see how faithless it has proved, I dare no more trust it. I shrink from the touch of the world, and feel "it is dangerous to let loose our love beneath the eternal fair." "Our nearest joys, our dearest friends, Well might the dear Saviour of sinners exhort us to watch and pray, lest we enter into temptation. Oh! Let us be faithful to his commands! Let us cast our burden on his arm, and rest upon his word. "His arm can well sustain Thanks be to him who hath loved us-who hath said, trust in me, and ye need not fear; who is our strength and our Redeemer; to Him be glory for ever. Canaan, June 6, 1803. THE mind of the believer, I have sometimes thought, witnessed a kind of annual renovation, in sympathy, as it were, with the material world. You, my good - -, who have, I hope, attained to a growth of grace that enables you always to "live above the world," will pity the feebleness of that faith which looks for helpers to love, among the flowers and shrubs. And I confess I am often ashamed to think that there are any provocations necessary, to keep alive the most ardent love for one, who has done such things as our ascended Redeemer has done for us. Yet, at this season of the year, every thing invites to adoration; and the transition from contemplating the beauties of nature, to adoring nature's God, is so natural, that my mind accompanies the appeal of the poet to my fellow-creatures. "Mortals! can you refrain your tongues, And benevolence adds "Oh! for a shout from old and young, I have thought frequently this spring, what a plea sure and advantage I should derive from your presence in some of my solitary rambles. How we could chat and expatiate on some of those inexhaus tible subjects that are co-extensive with eternity! How the budding of a germ might lead us to con template the cause of causes; or, perhaps, to re flect on that wondrous moment, when the Spring of immortality should release us from the winter of death! We might gather from the volume of nature, if rightly investigated, perennial flowers of knowledge, and of faith; and as our dear Saviour set the example, we might moralize, and sermonize, on the different objects which a diversified prospect presented to our view. "Thoughts shut up want air, " And spoil like bales unopened to the sun," |