The life & death of Mr. Joseph Alleine, late teacher of the church at Taunton, in Somersetshire, assistant to Mr. Newton whereunto are annexed diverse Christian letters of his, full of spiritual instructions tending to the promoting of the power of Godliness, both in persons and families, and his funeral sermon, preached by Mr. Newton.

LETTER XXX. [An Admiration of the Love of God.]

To the loving and most Dearly Beloved, the Servants of God in Taunton, Salvation.

My most dear Friends,

I Love you, and long for you in the Lord, and I am weary with forbearing that good and blessed Work that the Lord hath committed to me, for the furtherance of your Salva∣tion. How long Lord, how long shall I dwell in silence! How long shall my Tongue cleave to the Roof of my Mouth! When will God open my Lips, that I may stand up and praise him? But it is my Fathers good pleasure yet to keep me in a total disability of publishing his Name among you; unto him my soul shall patiently subscribe. I may not, I cannot complain that he is hard to me, or useth me with Rigour: I am full of the Mercies of the Lord, yea, Brim∣ful and running over, And shall I complain? Far be it from me.

But though I may not murmur, methinks I may mourn a little, and sit down and wish, O if I may not have a Tongue to speak, would I had but Hands to Write, that I might from my Pen drop some heavenly Councels to my Beloved People. Methinks my feeble Fingers do even Itch to Write unto you, but it cannot be, alas my Right-hand seems to have forgot her cunning, and hath much ado with trembling to lift the Bread unto my Mouth. Do you think you should have had so little to shew under my Hand, to bear witness of my Care for you, and Love to you if God had not shook my Pen as it were out of my Hand? But all that he doth is done well, and wisely, and therefore I submit. I have pur∣posed

to borrow Hands wherewith to Write unto my Beloved rather then to be silent any longer.

But where shall I begin, or when should I end? If I think to speak of the Mercies of God towards me, or mine enlarg∣ed affections towards you, methinks I feel already how strait this Paper is like to be, and how insignificant my Expres∣sions will be found, and how insufficient all that I can say will prove at last to utter what I have to tell you; but shall I say nothing because I cannot utter all, this must not be neither.

Come then all ye that fear the Lord, come and I will tell you what he hath done for my Soul. O help me to love that precious Name of his, which is above all my Praises. O love the Lord all ye his Saints, and fear before him! mag∣nifie the Lord with me, and let us exalt his Name together! he hath remembred my low estate, because his Mercy endu∣reth for ever. O blessed be you of the Lord, my dearly Be∣loved, O thrice blessed may you be for all your Remembrances of me before the Lord, you have wrestled with the Lord for me, you have wrestled me out of the very Jaws of Death it self: O the strength of Prayer! Surely it is stronger than Death. See that You even honour the power and prevalency of Prayer: Oh be in Love with Prayer, and have high and ve∣nerable thoughts of it. What Distresses, Diseases. Deaths can stand before it? Surely I live by Prayer, Prayer hath given a Resurrection to this Body of mine, when Physicians, and Friends had given up their hopes.

Ah my dearly Beloved, methinks it delights me to tell the Story of your Love, how much more of the Love of God towards me. I have not forgotten, O my dearly Be∣loved, I have not forgotten your tender Love in all my Di∣stresses. I remember your kindness to me in my Bonds, when once and again I was delivered up to a Prison for your sakes. I remember with much delight, how You refreshed and comforted me in my Tribulations, how open your hearts were, and your hands were not straightned neither, for I was in want of nothing. I may not, I must not forget what painful Journies you took to visit me, when in places Remote the hand of the Lord had touched me, and though my long Sickness was almost incredible Expensive to me, yet your

supplies did not a little lighten my Burthen.

And though I put it last, yet I do not mind it least, that You have been so ready in returning Praises to God in my behalf, your Thanksgiving to God, my dear Brethren, do administer abundant cause to me of my giving thanks unto You.

And now my Heart methinks is big to tell You a little of my Loue to You, surely You are dear unto me; but though it be sweet to tell the Story of Love, yet in this I will restrain my self. For I fear least as the Wise man saith of the begin∣ning of strife, so I should find of the beginning of Love, that it is like the letting forth of the Water; and the rather I do forbear, because I hope you have better Testimonies than Words, to bear Witness herein unto You.

But if I sing the Song of Love, O let Divine Love overcar∣ry the Praise; I found my self in straights when I began to speak of the natural Love between my dear People, and an un∣worthy Minister of Christ to them; and it seemed that all that I have said was much too little, but now I have to speak of the Love God, it seems to be by far too much.

O infinite Love never to be Comprehended, but ever to be Admired, Magnified, and Adored by every Creature! O let my Heart be filled, let my Mouth be filled, let my Pa∣pers be filled, ever ever filled with the thankful Commemo∣ration of this matchless Love. O turn your Eyes from other Objects! O Bury me in Forgetfulness, and let my Love be no more mentioned nor had in remembrance among You, so that You may be throughly possessed and inflamed with the Love of God. This, my Beloved, this is that Love which is ever to be Commended, and Extolled by You. See that You studie this Love, fill your Souls with wonder, and feast your Souls with joy, and be ravished with rich con∣tentment in this Divine Love: Take your daily walk, and lose your selves in the Field of Love: Drink, O Friends, yea drink abundantly, O Beloyed, fear no excess. O that your Souls may be drencht and drowned in the Love of Christ, till You can every one say with the ravisht Spouse, I am sick of Love. Marvel not that I wander here, and seem to for∣get the bounds of a Letter, this Love obligeth me, Yea, ra∣ther constraineth me. Who in all the Earth should admire

and commend this Love if I should not? I feel it, I taste it, the sweet Savour thereof Reviveth my Soul, it is Light to mine Eyes, and Life co mine Heart; the warm Beams of this blessed Sun, O how have they Comforted me, Ravished, and Refreshed me both in Body and Soul! My benumbed Limbs, my withered Hands, my feeble Knees, my Bones quite naked of Flesh do yet again Revive through the Quickning, Heal∣ing, and Raising influence of Divine Grace and Love. Now my own Hands can feed me, and my own feet can bear me, my Appetlte is quick, my Sleep comfortable, and God is pleased to give some increase continually though by insensible Degrees; And shall not I praise that Love and Grace that hath done all this for me? Yea, what is this to all I have to tell You? My Heart is enlarged, but I told You Paper could not hold what I have to speak of the Goodness of the All-Gracious God, in which I live. I am forced to end, least you should not bear my length. My dearly Beloved, I send my Heart unto You, divide my Love amongst you all, and particularly tender it to your Reverend and Faithfull Pastour, whose Presence with you, and Painfulness, and Watchfulness over you, and Zeal and Courage for you in so dangerous a time, is matter of my great Joy and Thanksgivings unto God. The Grace of our Lord Jesus be with you all. Fare you well in the Lord, I remain

Your unworthy Minister and ser∣vent Well wisher in the Lord, JOS. ALLEINE.