The isles in the North,
Remember, O God,
And feed thy sheep there,
With pure gospel food.
Lord, revive thy blest work
In every place,
Till thousands and thousands
Do triumph through grace.
Do you not think the blessed Jesus will say, Amen? Yes, assuredly he will. And if he will work, who shall hinder?
Thoughts are vain against the Lord,
All subserve his mighty word;
Wheels encircling wheels shall run,
Each in course to bring it on.
Fear not, my dear Sir; if Christ hath work for you to do, he will put you into a proper station. But would you be a Nehemiah, and have no Sanballat to oppose you? Building the walls of the New-Jerusalem, is what the profane and formalists do not approve of. We must expect the serpent will hiss, whenever the gospel seed of the woman is coming into a place to bruise his head. Courage, my dear Sir, courage. God is on your side.
The world, with sin and Satan,
In vain our march opposes;
Through Christ we shall
Break through them all,
And sing the song of Moses.
You see, my dear Sir, how freely I write. The love of Christ constraineth me. I am much indebted to you, and hope to see you in London soon. My wife longs to have you under our roof: she hath been ill, but blessed be God is now better. We both send cordial and grateful respects to your whole self and all enquiring friends. We have had most solemn sacramental occasions. I sympathize with both our suffering friends: from what unexpected quarters do troubles come! Who would sing a requiem to himself, whilst here below?
