Memoirs of the life of Catherine Phillips: to which are added some of her epistles.

APPENDIX.

EPISTLE I. Copy of a Letter to that truly great minister, my ancient friend, Abigail Watson of Ireland.

Dudley, 18th of Eleventh Month, 1751.

My Dear Friend,

IT was not because I had not a due esteem for thy letter, that I did not answer it from Dublin; for indeed I read it with plea|sure, and am thankful thou countest me in any degree worthy of thy friendship; but being pretty much hurried, could hardly get a quiet hour to write. I now make use of the first convenient opportunity to inform thee, that, through Divine favour, I have safely reached my outward habitation, and was gladly re|ceived by my dear mother, &c. whom I found in as good a state of health as I expected. My

mind, for the most part since I came home, has been quiet and easy, resting under the enjoy|ment of peace in discharging my duty to your nation; which service, as thou hintest, was not undertaken in my own will, nor perform|ed in my own strength; but He who sent me forth, vouchsafed to accompany me: and though he many times saw meet that I should be deeply tried, he was with me in the deeps, as well as in the heights, preserving in danger and distress. Unseen he helped me, because he knew my soul looked to him for assistance, desiring to be guided by his unerring counsel. I write not this boastingly, for my spirit is humbled, under a sense of his goodness and unmerited love. What am I, that the Majes|ty of heaven should thus condescend to visit me? A poor, weak, unprofitable servant, un|to whom belongs fear and confusion of face. Ah! my dear friend, what are the best of us all, without the Divine presence or assistance? It is that is our strength, our crown, and re|joicing; by that are we made beautiful; and, divested of that, become as nothing: O! may I ever live in a just sense of the necessity of seeking after it. O! my God, sooner cut the thread of my life, than suffer me to fall from tasting thy goodness: let me not bring dishonour on thy great Name, which I now reverence and adore. These, my dear friend, are the secret desires of my soul, in joy and affliction; which in freedom and tenderness of spirit, I at this time communicate. Whene|ver

thou or thy husband findest freedom to write me a few lines, I hope, if health per|mit, you will not forbear. My lot is cast in a barren land, and I want all the help that can be afforded me: I am persuaded I need not request you to remember me, since I have good reason to believe our spirits are united in gospel-fellowship; in which I at this time both salute and bid you farewel, and am thy

affectionate friend, CATHERINE PAYTON.

EPISTLE II. To the few who have been convinced of the rec|titude of waiting upon the Lord in Silence, and accustomed to meet for that good end, in Cardiff.

Friends,

IN the love of my heavenly Father, joined with a sense of duty, am I engaged thus to salute you; desiring your stedfastness in the unchangeable Truth: that being grounded in right faith, you may not be carried away with every wind of doctrine, but in stability of mind, may be able to distinguish betwixt what proceeds pure from the Fountain of wisdom, and what is mixed with human policy, and the traditions of men; which tend to alienate the mind from the simplicity of gospel worship, and fix it in outward performances, amusing it with bodily exercises which profit but little. By this means, many times, that tender spiritual sensation, with which the soul in the infancy of religion is blessed, in measure is lost, and the understanding clouded; the mind being either plunged in a labyrinth of thought, or exalted above that diffident childlike state, in which the humble followers of the Lamb de|light to abide: because therein they are capa|ble

of knowing his voice from that of a stran|ger; and receive strength to follow him through the several dispensations of probation he is pleased to allot them.

Many times since I saw your faces have I looked towards you, and I wish I could say I have beheld all keeping their habitations in the Lord. But, alas! instead of that, has there not been a swerving aside, and building again that which you had taken some good steps to|wards abolishing; which, whosoever does, makes himself a transgressor? May I not que|ry, Why halt ye between two opinions? I be|lieve this to be one cause of your weakness, and, I fear, if persisted in, will prove your destruction. I believe it was the merciful de|sign of the Almighty to redeem you from a dependency on mortals, and to bring you to wait for the immediate teachings of his Spirit, and to confide in his power, from a lively sense of its sufficiency: and had you simply followed him, his Almighty arm had been exalted to the bringing down of your enemies, and the enlarging of your understandings; so that you would not only have seen that there was light, but the miraculous cure of blindness had been perfected, and in the light you would have discerned objects clearly. Here you would have grown in Christian experience, and having received the holy unction, you would have found as you abode under it, that you needed not that any man should teach you, for that this anointing was sufficient to in|struct

in all things. And here you would have been able to distinguish betwixt words accom|panied with, and those without, the power of God, by the different effects each had in the soul: the one tending to quicken unto God, and the other to bring death over the spiritual life. According to the nature of things, a ministry out of the life of the gospel can only beget its likeness: it may fill the head with notions, but can never replenish the soul with grace. But, as it is the business of the enemy to de|lude the judgment with false appearances, he will endeavour, by puffing up the mind with vain conceits, to make a likeness of the effects of the Truth.

The head being stored with knowledge, and Christianity in part understood in theory, by working upon the imagination, the poor deluded creature may boast of visions and en|joyments, and, soaring on the wings of decep|tion, may abound in rapturous expressions; but though he may talk of God and Christ from morning till evening, it is but warming himself at a fire of his own kindling, being destitute of the efficacy of grace.

Truth has a natural tendency to humble all the faculties of the soul, to make it

rejoice with trembling,

and to clothe it with meek|ness, resignation, and contrition; in which state it seeks to repose itself in the breast of the Beloved; or in silent adoration to bond before his throne, and in tenderness pour forth itself in mental prayer, or praises; but to ad|dress

him verbally with awful reverence and self-diffidence, knowing it is presumption so to do but from the movings of his spirit. If it be long deprived of his presence, it seeks him sorrowing; but as it advances in experience, is cautious of disclosing its condition (as in the night) to the various reputed watchmen; lest they, either through uncharitableness or un|skilfulness, wound instead of heal; by unveiling to the unregenerated the secret conflicts it en|dures; or direct it to other objects, instead of informing it where to find him whom it seeks.

These observations occurring to my mind, I hope you will receive them in gospel love, in which I think they are communicated. I now conclude, with desiring that if any instability has appeared in your conduct, you may for the future keep more close to the Divine Guide; that you may be clothed with wisdom and strength, and witness salvation and peace to attend you.

I am your real friend, CATH. PAYTON.

Dudley, 16th Third Month, (called March), 1752.

I note upon this epistle, that, although for a time there appeared a degree of convincement of the Truth amongst these people, they were so scat|tered, that scarcely one of them steadily and uni|formly abode upon its foundation to the end.

EPISTLE III. To my brother Henry Payton, written on board the Alexander, 6th of the Tenth Month, 1753, at Sea, Lat. 25° North.

Dear Brother,

HERETOFORE when absent, I have been easy in remembering thee with sincere de|sires for thy welfare; but now a desire of writ|ing thee taking place, I am unwilling to stifle it, were it only for this reason, that I would do all that is justly in my power, to strengthen that affection which ought to subsist betwixt persons so nearly allied in nature. But alas! when I consider the difference of our affec|tions, pursuits, and sentiments, in right and wrong, I am fearful to set pen to paper, lest I should not be read with candour and under|standing; yet am again encouraged to this conclusion, that thou wilt at least receive it as the effect of my regard for thee. Regard, did I say? I will alter the term to affection;

which I have felt gently to spring in my soul towards thee; not only as to a creature form|ed by the same Almighty hand as myself, and for the same noble end, viz. to glorify him who gave us being, and who has loaded us with a multitude of his favours (which loud|ly call for a grateful return); but, as to a brother who has strayed from the path of peace and safety, and is seeking satisfaction in the grasp of empty bubbles; which have as|sumed the form, in his sight, of something substantial. But thy own experience, if im|partially traced, will tell thee, they have bro|ken when touched and dispersed in air; leav|ing nothing real behind them, but keen re|morse, and the painful remembrance that they are lost, with all the time, pains and anxiety, bestowed in the pursuit of them. Yet in this idle solicitude, (O! affecting but too just charge!) has a great part of thy life been spent; ardently traversing the destructive ma|zes of delusive pleasure, and industriously a|voiding the One only Good, in the possession of which thy soul might have found substan|tial happiness: a happiness which would have afforded true contentment, in which is convey|ed that fulness of joy, which only can satisfy the immortal part, being itself immortal in its nature.

Thou wilt perhaps say that these are my sen|timents. But suffer me to ask thee, why they are not thine? Why do we differ in opinion and practice, but because the desire and pursuit

of sensual gratifications have blinded thy judg|ment, and biassed thy actions? I will venture to assert that it was the kingdom or possessions of this world, its friendships, vanities, and sensual pleasures, spread in the view of thy mind, that drew it from its early love and al|legiance to Him who is truly worthy of love and obedience. Nature joined with the well adapted temptation (being fond of present en|joyment, though it be forbidden fruit), and renounced submission to the pure law of grace written in the heart; which, had it been ob|served, would have rectified her impure and irregular appetites, and have placed thee in the true state of manhood; as lord of, not slave to, the creation; and governor of thy|self, in happy subjection to the Divine will: a will which invariably points out the everlast|ing felicity of mankind. But, rebel to her own interest, nature, blinded by false affec|tion, and fraught with pride, like our first parents, does not like a superior that shall con|troul her perverseness, and prescribe laws for her direction; but rather chuses to take the reins of government into her own hand, and plan out a way for herself.

Here reason, blind fallen reason, enthron|ed by the power of Satan, usurps the sovereign seat, as sitting in the temple of God, being honoured as God; power, wisdom, and dis|cretion to direct, being ascribed unto it. This false king (who, had he occupied his proper place, had made a good subject), joins in strict

league with the passions, and prescribes rules directed by these his allies.

Shall man (says he) be confined within the narrow rules of virtue and religion? No, I proclaim him li|berty. Let him indulge himself in what is desirable to him; let him gratify the sight of his eye, and the pride of his heart, in en|deavouring to make himself agreeable to and admired by mankind; with whom let him join in full society, and free communion, en|tertaining and being entertained. Why may he not partake of the pleasures of sense, see|ing he has appetites for them; and satisfy his curiosity in knowing evil as well as good?

These are the genuine suggestions of the reasoning faculty guided by the passions (though I confess that I believe the subtle deceiver of mankind, sometimes teaches this reason to speak in a language more concealed than I have here set down); but I think it will be no hard mat|ter to prove, that this boasted liberty is real bondage, and that this acquisition of know|ledge is no more than a sense of guilt, result|ing from the loss of that innocence which gave man boldness to appear before the face of Al|mighty justice and purity, void of distracting fear.

Let us examine the extent of virtue and re|ligion, and mark every passion implanted by Providence in the nature of man; and we shall find that in them alone it is possible these should be rightly gratified, and that whenever

man breaks from their bounds, he flies from the mark of his happiness.

I have looked upon love to be the govern|ing passion in the soul, which, as it moves, draws the rest in its train, and, being strongly fixed on a worthy or unworthy object, is the cause of our joy or misery. This being grant|ed, it is next to be considered what object is worthy of our entire affection: in which search let it be remembered, that this principle of love, or desire of enjoyment, is so seated in the soul, as never to be struck from it; and it will presently be allowed, that the object that is worthy of its spending its force upon, or be|ing united to without limitation, must not be dependent on time, for that death deprives it of; but durable as its own existence, and so perfect as fully to satisfy an everlasting desire of possession. This can be nothing else but the Eternal Excellency, from whom this spark of affection was struck; and if Divine order were not inverted, it would as naturally bend towards it original as a stone to the centre, where only it can find a happy settlement. In this love of God, stands virtue; it is this in|spires it. If we truly love God, who is infi|nite in purity and wisdom, we shall naturally hate their contraries, impurity, and folly; and shall hate ourselves because of them: because whatever defiles the soul, destroys its likeness to the Divine Being, and renders it unaccept|able in his sight. Hence, as it is the nature of a true affection to endeavour after the love of

the beloved object, proceeds an ardent desire of purification, and a filial fear of offending God; a fear the most rationally founded, viz. in a deep sense of gratitude, considering him as the Author of all the good we possess, or can rightly hope for, i. e. everlasting felicity; joined to the knowledge of his power and jus|tice, in punishing transgressions, which self-preservation would teach us to shun: there|fore, whatever would amuse the senses, so as to draw the affection from this Fountain of goodness, is dreaded and renounced as forbid|den fruit.

In religion, the soul is enlarged, and set at li|berty to exercise its most noble faculty, in ac|tions, or on an object, worthy the dignity of its nature; when on the contrary, without it, it is in bondage, and debased in the pursuit of what scarcely deserves the name of pleasure, being of no real worth or lasting duration. Religion teaches us that we do not live for ourselves only; but that in order to obtain the great end of our being, we must seek the good of mankind and endeavour to be service|able in society; yet mix in familiar converse with caution, lest instead of rectifying the er|rors of others, we transplant them into our own conduct. It instructs us to beware of vain glory, or of seeking the applause of men; clothing the mind with humility, under a sense that we have no good thing but what we have received from the bounteous hand of our Cre|ator; and raising a desire that all his gifts may

be devoted to his service. In short, religion places man in the sphere the wise Author of nature designed him; directing his affections to ascend towards the Creator, and to de|scend towards the creation. If the ascent be but sufficient, the descent will be just. The creatures will be loved as the work and gifts of the Creator; yet possessed with due caution from this consideration, that they are allotted us but for an uncertain season; and that it is therefore our interest to be able to surrender them when called for, with as little pain or anxiety as is consistent with our state. On the reverse, the immoderate descent of the affec|tions ties us down to the earth and earthly possessions, shackles us in sensual gratifications, effectually prevents the soul's ascending to|wards God, and destroys its deputed sove|reignty over the creation, to which it is in bondage: so true is that assertion of the apos|tle, that while some boasted of their liberty, or promised it to others, themselves were the servants of corruption. I have sometimes con|sidered how the excuse of these boasted liber|tines bespeaks their slavery. We cannot help such and such conduct, say they, or had not power to resist such temptations. If this were true, it were acknowledging that they had lost that valuable blessing, the free|dom of the will; and are utterly destitute of power to withstand evil; and of consequence are the devil's captives. Such indeed they are, though not necessarily, but voluntarily:

for wisdom and power, through the grace of God, is given unto man, to discover and resist the temptations of his enemy; and if he will renounce both, his blindness and subjection to the power of delusion is procured by himself, as is its miserable consequence, viz. an ever|lasting separation from the Fountain of all good.

Thou wilt easily perceive, that the intent of the foregoing hints is to influence thy mind in favour of a more strict course of virtue than thou hast formerly pursued. I will add my earnest wish that it may be answered. What shall I say to persuade thee to turn, and cool|ly and impartially look into thyself? Shall I plead thy advance in years? Thou art now I conclude rather in the decline of life, * 1.1 hast|ening towards the gate of the garden. O!

listen to the dictates of virtue, ere she with|draw her kind invitations and profitable instruc|tions. Shall I beseech thee by the mercies of God (a prevailing argument with a truly ge|nerous and grateful mind, and which may with great justice be particularly advanced to thy|self), to return unto Him from whom thou hast deeply revolted, and seek reconciliation by un|feigned repentance, if thou can find room so to do; which I have a lively hope thou may|est, though thou hast so long, and distantly, strayed from the fold of Christ.

I shall plead no excuse for the freedom with which I have here treated thee, further than to say, that I think a true freedom in commu|nicating our sentiments, with a design for each other's eternal well-being, is a part of that charity which should clothe the spirits of the followers of Jesus Christ.

The copiousness of my subject may apolo|gize for my prolixity. Upon a review of what I have written it will readily be observ|ed, that the hints given are but like heads of chapters, which, if fully expatiated upon, might fill a volume instead of a letter: and, that the everlasting minister of the sanctuary may enlarge them in the view of thy under|standing, to lasting benefit, is the sincere and ardent desire of thy affectionate sister,

CATHERINE PAYTON.

EPISTLE IV. To a young man in Ireland, who had been long under religious impressions.

Amsterdam, 1st of Eighth Month, 1757.

THINE of the 5th ult. I received yester|day, and with a degree of satisfaction have observed its contents; although it seems to breathe the language of complaint, or at least fear of falling short of the mark thou hast had in view, and I hope art pressing after. Al|though this is a state painful to nature, it is sometimes a state of greater safety, and more directly pointing to perfection, than is that of ease, or even of the aboundings of sensible consolations: whereby some have been induced to conclude themselves in a better and safer state than they really were, and so have grown less watchful and diffident of their own judg|ment; and spiritual pride and vain-glory have entered, wherein they have boasted above their measure of experience; and at last "turned the grace of God into wantonness," and their latter end has been far worse than their beginning. But in the seasons of the withdrawings of Divine goodness, the soul

that is earnestly bent to obtain the kingdom of God, which stands "in righteousness" as well as "in peace and joy in the Holy Ghost," is set upon searching what is the cause of its being thus deserted; and so "digs deep" through the corruption of fallen nature, and

lays its foundation sure

in the experience of the purifying operation of the Spirit of Truth; and against such it is that

The gates of hell shall not prevail:

and that thou and I may be of this happy number, is the travail of my spirit.

It is most certain that our journey through life is as through a vale of tears, wherein va|rious will be our conflicts, and numerous our trials, both inwardly and outwardly; but we have this encouraging promise left us, that

All shall work together for the good of such as truly love and fear God.

And as our hopes and desires are fixed on an infinitely better country, the joys whereof are pure and eternally permanent, let us not repine at the means used to secure them to us; but with all possible cheerfulness take the cup which Divine Providence hands forth to us, as

The cup of his salvation;

and steadily endea|vour for that mind, wherewith the blessed Je|sus was clothed, which says continually,

Thy will be done;

even in the bitter baptism of crucifixion, which every true-born child of God must be partaker of; and under the bit|ter pangs of death to the fallen nature, will have to cry out,

My God, my God, why

hast thou forsaken me.

O! if this was the language of the Master, the immaculate Lamb of God, who knew no sin; no wonder that it is the language of the servant, who has been defiled therewith; and from which he must be washed ere he can have part with the Son in his inheritance. I have looked up|on it as an infinite mercy to be led deep enough in humiliation, to be stripped of all that has any appearance of what is good and excellent, and to have this the secret language of the soul to him who sees in secret,

I am a worm, and no man:

and although the consolatory portion of such as these may be sometimes hid, or withheld for a season; yet they are sure, being in the hands of infinite Wisdom, Truth, and Mercy; who, in the wise appointment of his providence, will give to his own what they stand in need of; and when the days of fast|ing and humiliation are accomplished, will as|suredly

bless the provision of Zion, and sa|tisfy her poor with bread.

I thought when I last left Dublin, if I were in debt to any one in it, it was to thyself. Per|haps thy letter may open a way for me to pay it; although I do not remember that any thing of the above was upon my mind for thee; but a hint of advice seemed to bend toward thee, to beware with whom thou enterest into the covenant of friendship, lest in the end thou shouldest be wounded by their backslidings: and let me also add, beware of looking out at the misconduct of others, with a discouraging

eye; for although

thousands may fall as by thy side, and tens of thousands as at thy right hand,

yet if thou

make the Most High thy refuge,

by a steady and faithful obedience to his will, he will preserve thee.

Through mercy I am favoured with a good degree of health and peace in my going for|ward, although the present concern wherein I am engaged is attended with some discourag|ing circumstances, yet I have faith that I am here in the appointment of heaven.

If Lucy Bradly and companion have not left Dublin before this comes to hand, please to present my dear love to them; and tell Lucy that I wrote her since I came to this city, wherein I hinted my expectation of seeing York in my return home.

My love in that which is unchangeable strongly attends thee, and the tried remnant of spiritual Israel in your city and nation, who, although they are few, are too numerous for me to particularise: shall therefore give thee a general commission to present my love to such as thou hast freedom; and conclude myself

Thy truly well-wishing friend, CATHERINE PAYTON.

EPISTLE V. Extract of a letter to another young man, under religious exercises.

Esteemed Friend,

THINE of yesterday I just now received; and am concerned to find by its contents, that indisposition prevents thy meeting us as pro|posed; but as through faith and patience every affliction may be sanctified, I cannot but hope the present may tend further to refine thy spirit and enlarge thy understanding in Divine truths; which are not always manifested in the hours of consolation, but must be painfully felt in the depths of experience.

That beautifully strong expression in sacred writ, that "The Lord makes the clouds his chariots," has of late often been revived in my remembrance; with this illustration, that when a cloud is over us, who have known and rejoiced in the light, it is good to stand still, and hearken for that "small still voice" pro|ceeding from it, which alone can compose and settle the soul.

To be sure it is a necessary duty to search our hearts, and not in so doing to evade the judgment of Truth; but it is also well to guard

against too hasty conclusions of the causes and ends of exercises; especially in an hour of weak|ness, wherein the old accuser is not wanting on his part, to suggest the most painful apprehen|sions, thereby to dispirit the mind that seeks to be freed from his insupportable yoke.

The new discovery thou makest of the delu|siveness of thy thoughts, affords me much satis|faction, as it gives good ground to hope, that the Lord designs to lead thee to a state of per|fection, which few, very few, have seen into; viz. an entire abdication of self, even in its most pleasing and seeming lawful appearances. That of an ideal satisfaction in something seem|ingly good, yet short of the Divine perfection, is an exercise which attends many, and has pre|vailed against some, at least to the diminution of that lustre which would have shone around them. It is a favour so quickly to see into it, and, having seen, I hope thou wilt endeavour to avoid it, and the Lord will help thee.

There is no happiness here equal to perfect redemption from the world, its spirit, and our|selves. To have no hopes, no desires, but in the will of God, is fully giving ourselves into his holy hand, and to be swallowed up of him (though of this, for want of Divine sensation, we may sometimes be ignorant). Here me|thinks I almost hear thee say,

This is the state I long for, but it is distant, very dis|tant, from me.

But is it not as of yester|day thou sawest into it, and wouldst thou be perfect at once, and enjoy a victory without a

fight? This my friend is the summit of the mount of perfection, which thou hast lately be|gun to ascend, and in thy journey I sincerely wish thee good speed; and from the quietude which I at present feel about thee, I cannot but hope thou art in the best of hands: may a sense thereof be communicated in the most need|ful time.

CATHERINE PAYTON.

EPISTLE VI. To Friends in Ireland.

Dear Friends,

AS I am prevented by contrary winds from paying a visit this fall, to some of your Pro|vince meetings; &c. (for which end I proceed|ed as far as Liverpool) in the strength of that un|feigned love of the brethren which drew me from my home, am I endeavouring to salute you by a few lines: in hope the Divine wisdom and mercy may direct my pen, to the present relief of my own spirit, and your help.

And first, dear friends, permit me to inform you, that the lamentable state of our church, is almost continually before me. This in your's as well as other countries, has suffered greatly by the baneful prevalence of the spirit of this world; insomuch, that too few have their hands clean and strong for the Lord's service; or can see to extract the motes from the eyes of their brethren, because of the beams which are in their own. May not some of the in|structors, and seemingly zealous in our Society, be justly taxed with hypocrisy; seeing while they cry against the reigning sins of others, they are inattentive to their own? unto whom

I would direct the advice of Christ, viz. Pluck first the beams out of your own eyes, and then shall ye see clearly to take the motes out of those of your brethren.

It is a sorrowful truth, that even the gar|ments of some of the priesthood are spotted with the world and the flesh; and they are there|fore rendered unfit to minister before the Lord in that sacred office. For whatever may have been their former experience of the sanctifying operation of his spirit; or however clear may have been their call into his service; yet if, like Judas, they have betrayed their Master for the pieces of silver, or, like Demas, may in spirit have forsaken his family for the love of the world in some of its alluring shapes, theirs justly is the judgment passed upon Ju|das; who being fallen from his station in the holy body of Christ, was to lose his bishoprick or part in the apostleship: such being render|ed unfit to give testimony to the life, sufferings, death and resurrection of the holy Jesus, who do not retain it in their own experience.

Observe, brethren, the word retain. It is not enough that we have once known the Lord, but we must retain him in our knowledge, by the renewed baptisms of his holy Spirit: and of some who did not choose to do so, it is re|corded that

God gave them up to a reprobate mind, to work those things which are not con|venient.

And I believe there are in our day, who, having deviated from the simplicity of Truth for sinister ends, have have gone wider

and wider therefrom; until their hearts are be|come so darkened that they call evil good, and good evil; put darkness for light, and light for darkness; and, in their pursuits after worldly interests, are obviously worshipping and serving the creature more than the Crea|tor: and yet these very persons would keep those seats, and discharge those offices in the church, which were assigned them, when in the days of childhood they were willing to fol|low the Lamb whithersoever he led them.

O! for these blind guides, is my soul pain|ed; and that not only on their own accounts but that of others, who, apprehending the law to proceed from their mouths (though they have in reality no right to take the word of the Lord thereinto) and observing their conduct, may be influenced by their example, and fol|low them as they follow the world. Is it need|ful, my beloved, to warn you, as our Lord did the people respecting the Scribes and Pha|risees, who, notwithstanding they sat in Moses' seat, and administered the law, were not to be regarded as examples; lest, being led by the blind, ye perish with them in the ditch of er|ror and perdition?

When I sat down to write you, I had no view of beginning with these disagreeable re|marks, but simply gave myself up to the direc|tion of that Wisdom which best dictates what to say, and when to say it: and although some may object to their being inserted in an Epistle which points to a general exhortation, I am

convinced by undoubted experience, and the example of some of the most eminently service|able in the Lord's hand, that Divine wisdom sometimes commands to reprove those that of|fend, let them be of what class they may, be|fore all, that others may learn to fear. In the authority of Truth I dare assert that the time is come in our church, when it is necessary that judgment should begin as at the house of God, in the very highest classes of the society; and till that is laid to the line, and some there|in are either reformed thereby or removed from those dignified stations, there is little proba|bility of the Lord's work, being carried on to his own honour (in the general) and the com|fort of the faithful. O! saith my soul, that all who are concerned, or concern themselves, therein, would study to be quiet and mind their own business, which is to take heed to them|selves; for although the Holy Ghost may have once made some of them overseers of the flock, they cannot properly take heed thereto, un|less this is the case; for being themselves load|ed with a secret consciousness of guilt, for worshipping of idols, some obviously, and some having them concealed under a precise, for|mal, outside appearance and deportment, as in the skirts of their garments, they dare not, nay they cannot, search out the hidden things of Esau among the people, nor administer judg|ment in righteousness, where it is obviously due.

Let me therefore, in the spirit of gospel meekness and charity, which breathes for your salvation and enlargement in all the gifts and fruits of the Holy Ghost, exhort you who are of the foremost ranks, whether ministers, el|ders, overseers, or heads of families, that you would solemnly look into yourselves; and with an impartiality, which ever accompanies those who are really concerned for the establishment of the kingdom of Christ in themselves, ask yourselves, individually, In what am I lack|ing? O! my friends, was this the case with us all, and did we patiently wait for the an|swer of Truth, we should individually be hum|bled into a sense of our shortness of that per|fection, whereunto we have been called, and wherein many of us have believed; and some would be so struck with the view of their ido|latrous revolting from the simple worship of the true and living God, that they would go mourning many days in the bitterness of their souls; and all would be animated to press af|ter the mark for the prize of their high calling in Christ, which is redemption from the world, the flesh, and the devil. And the nearer we approach to this blessed and happy experience, the more our hands will be strengthened in the Lord's work, and the more we shall be ena|bled both by precept and example to build one another up in the most holy faith, and in those things which edify; and our confidence in God who is the Perfecter of his saints will increase, that, as he hath mercifully begun a good work

in us, he will finish it to the praise of his own name.

It is impossible that self-examination by the light of Truth should hurt any of us, and it may help all. I therefore once more earnestly recommend it, as a means of our fulfilling this precept, "Purge out the old leaven," and enabling us to keep the feast

not with the leaven of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.

I shall conclude my exhortation to you of these classes, with saying, Be faithful, and then will you be comforted▪ and of one mind, and the God of Peace will preside amongst you. Amen.

Now to you who, not being in any of the before-mentioned stations, may therefore think yourselves more at liberty to gratify the desire of the carnal mind, is my concern directed; with secret breathings to the Father of mercies, that he may enable me so to point the word to your hearts, that being made sensible of your own danger, you may flee for your lives, from those bewitching vanities, and false pleasures which have held your souls in bondage to the God of this world; who, by many secret snares, and more obvious allurements, seeks to entangle the minds of poor mortals, and lead astray their affections from that inestimable Fountain of light, life, and happiness, where|in is centered all true joy, both in time and in eternity.

Dearly beloved! for so in the bowels of gospel compassion I call you; have you ever

seriously considered that you have no continu|ing city here; and that as your souls are im|mortal, it is the proper, and ought to be the principal, business of your lives, to seek for them a habitation, suitable to their being and nature, wherein they may have a happy resi|dence for ever: which is alone to be found in God, who is the source and resource of his people? Now in order that your souls may at last centre with God, it is necessary that they should be made habitations for Him through the sanctifying operation of the Spirit of his Son, which alone can render us who have been defiled with sin (and therefore unfitted for a residence with Him), fit objects of his favour. Allow me therefore to ask you (and O! that you would ask yourselves), what you have known of this work, in your experience? Has the spirit of judgment and of burning done its office in your hearts? Have you passed through the first part of the work of sanctifica|tion? I mean the administration of condemna|tion for sin. Have you been bowed under the testimony of the righteous Witness of God in your conscience? Or have you not rather de|pressed and contemned this heavenly messen|ger; not suffering it to tell you the truth, or at least, disbelieving the doctrine it preached, because it did not countenance some of your actions? Nay, have not some gone so far as to slay the "two witnesses for God," the in|ternal evidence of his Spirit, and the external testimony of his servants; and are perhaps at

this hour exulting in their victory, and pro|claiming to themselves peace; when alas! a day of fearfulness, amazement, and unuttera|ble anguish, awaits them, and is near; when, if not sooner, the curtains of mortality shall be drawn, and they shall see the Judge, tre|mendous in majesty, and that righteous witness, which in time they slew, raised in power, to testify against them for their rebellion, and as|sert the justice of their exclusion from the realms of light and blessedness.

What effect this faint description of the day of judgment to the wicked, and those who forget God, may have upon the minds of such, I know not; but my heart being impressed with an awful sense of its certainty, is animat|ed to endeavour to wrest them from its eter|nal consequences; by persuading them to bow in the day of God's merciful visitation to their souls, and to kiss the Son lest he be angry, and they perish from the way of life and sal|vation, ere his wrath be kindled but a little.

Do not vainly and proudly imagine, that you are able to stem the force or Omnipotence. He is, and will be King, whether you are willing to allow him the right of sovereignty or not: and his sacred laws of unchangeable truth, are as manifest in the punishment of transgressors, as in the reward of those that do well: and O! if it were possible to con|vey to you a sense of that sweet peace, glory, and joy, which are, and shall be revealed to those who love and serve God, you would be

convinced that no punishment could be too great for such as, by a contrary conduct, slight and cast away so great salvation and hap|piness. But as no eye can see, nor heart conceive, the exceeding grace of God in Christ Jesus, but such as have happily witness|ed its sanctifying operation; I cannot but in|vite you to

Come, taste, and see, that the Lord is good, and that his mercy endureth for ever.

It is true, that in the way to this attain|ment you must pass through judgment; for Zion must be redeemed through judgment, and all the converts with righteousness, and a portion of indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, must (consistently with the law of Divine justice), be administered to every soul that sinneth. But this judgment when received in the day of God's merciful visitati|on, is succeeded by such inexpressible peace and assurance of Divine favour, as abundantly compensates for the pains it may have occasi|oned: for of a truth the carnal

eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceiv|ed,

what good is in store for those who manifest their love to God by their obedience. Believe me, my beloved friends, when I tell you that my heart is strongly engaged for your welfare, as you stand in your various classes. I feel much more for you than I can write, and would beseech you by the mercies of God, as well as by his judgments, that you would present the whole bodies of your

affections unto him, which is no more than your reasonable service.

Has he not dealt exceeding bountifully to some of you of the things of this life? For what cause think you has he entrusted you with such abundance? Is it to gratify the lust of the eye, and the pride of life? Is it to make you haughty, and assume a superiority over such as, in this respect may be below yourselves, but who perhaps may some of them be higher in the Divine favour? Nay, surely: but in or|der that you may improve this gift to his ho|nour, the good of others, and your own eter|nal advantage; and may be humbled in a sense of the disproportion of your deserts to his mercies. Has he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 favoured some of you with superior natural abilities? And for what end, but that you might be in a superior de|gree serviceable in his hand? Has he not af|forded to all a day of merciful visitation, wherein he has by various means endeavoured to bring you into that fold of immortal rest, wherein he causes his

Flocks to feed and lie down beside the clear streams of salvation?

O saith my soul! that you may consider his mercies, and make a suitable return for them; that the Most High may delight in the present generation, and dwell among the people as in days past. O! you of the rising generation, Open the doors of your hearts to that Divine Visitant, who has long stood thereat, and knocked for entrance. Let him prepare them, and he will assuredly spread his table, and ad|mit

you to be the happy communicants thereat. Think not that it is too early in life for you to look steadily towards a future state of exist|ence; but consider, that the solemn message to summon you from works to rewards, may be sent to you at an early and unexpected hour: and that it therefore behoves you, to be pre|pared to meet the great Judge. My heart is particularly engaged for your welfare, and pained in the consideration how widely some of you have deviated from that path of primitive simplicity, wherein your worthy predecessors trod. Let me therefore beseech you to seek for the "Good old way" of holiness, and walk therein; that you may experimentally know the

God of your fathers, and serve him with a perfect heart and willing mind:

so will his blessing forever rest upon you, which maketh truly rich, and adds no sorrow therewith.

Let the cloud of witnesses to the power and unutterable riches of pure religion, prevail with you to submit to its holy influence; that you may rightly understand, and diligently pursue, the things that belong to your peace here and hereafter. Let the examples of the righteous in all generations, let their peaceful lives, let their happy conclusion, triumphing over death, hell, and the grave, in a lively and full assurance of faith; let the solemn im|portance of time and eternity, excite you while it is yet day, and light is upon your taberna|cles, to improve it: that you may be number|ed

amongst the wise, who shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and may be in|strumental to turn many to righteousness, and be as stars for ever and ever.

The negligent and careless, the stout-heart|ed, and they that are far from righteousness, may receive instruction from the event of the like-minded in all generations. Such have not escaped the righteous judgments of the Al|mighty; who has sealed it as a certain truth:

Verily there is a reward for the righteous; verily he is a God who judgeth the earth.

And now, dear Friends, as in plainness I have endeavoured to communicate what has freely opened to the several classes among you, I would warn all to beware of putting their proper portion far from them; but let each examine, "Is it I; Is it I?" And let not the iniquities of others, which some may observe to be struck at, tend to fix any in a state of self-security; for assuredly every one must suf|fer for his own transgression. Nor let those close hints which are pointed to some of the foremost rank, be made use of to invalidate the testimony of such, whom the Lord has preserved as "watchmen upon your walls." I know and am thankful that he has a rem|nant amongst you, of all ranks, whom he has preserved near unto himself; unto whom my soul is united in the tribulations and rejoicings of the gospel; and unto whom a salutation reaches forth, and seems expressed in my heart thus, Brethren and sisters, be of good cheer,

"be patient, and hope to the end:" for the hand of that God whom you serve, is stretch|ed out for your help; and if you abide faith|ful to him, in his own time he will crown your sufferings with rejoicing.

Finally, dearly beloved, farewel; and may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost, be with you all, Amen.

I am your friend and sister in the Truth, CATHERINE PAYTON.

Dudley, 10th of Tenth Month, 1758.

EPISTLE VII. Copy of an Epistle to the Quarterly Men's Meet|ing of Friends of—

Dear Friends,

IT having lately been my lot to pass through your quarter, and with sorrow to observe the declining state of the church therein, I find my mind engaged to write a few lines to you who may be accounted its ruling members; to advise, that you be careful to fill up the sta|tion of governors in all humility and hones|ty, acquitting yourselves like men concerned for the cause of God. And in order that each may find his hands made strong for the work, let first a strict scrutiny be made into your own conduct, to see how far you are purged from the abominations which are committed: for, except those who are rulers in Israel, support their testimony by a circumspect conversation; it seems to me impossible they should rule well. For, not preserving a sense of the necessity of an entire purity subsisting in the church, they will be apt to admit of things inconsistent with the nature of that holy principle we profess; and wink at, instead of reproving, the conduct of backsliders. And, indeed, I see no right that a man who breaks the law himself, has

to sit in the seat of judgment. He may plead the example of the Scribes and Pharisees, but no Christian precept countenances such a prac|tice: for

except our righteousness exceeds theirs, we shall in no wise enter the king|dom.

And I think it may not be amiss, in order to evince whether there be any resem|blance betwixt us and them, to examine what their righteousness was. It was only a bare external righteousness, put or kept on with a base hypocritical design, to impose upon the people. Spiritual pride was cloked under it. They loved the places of chief presiden|cy in the synagogues, &c. and to be called of men, "Rabbi;" oppressed the distressed, and neglected the weightiest matters of the law, viz. justice, mercy, and truth (without which no right government can ever be administered). They were not possessed of holiness, though they made

broad their philacteries, and en|larged the borders of their garments.

How different to this is the character of a bishop* 1.2 given by the apostle, viz.

He must be blame|less as the steward of God, not self-willed, not soon angry, not given to wine, no strik|er, not given to filthy lucre; but a lover of hospitality, a lover of good men, sober, just, holy, temperate, holding forth the faithful word as he has been taught; that he may be able by sound doctrine both to exhort and convince the gainsayers.

An excellent ca|talogue

of necessary qualifications! May both you and I covet to obtain them.

It seems to me that a great regulation is wanting amongst us, and judgment must begin as at the sanctuary, before it can go on right. The camp is shamefully defiled, and few fit to minister judgment in wisdom, to the transgres|sors; which is very much wanting, for

weak|ness has reached to the head and the heart,

and insensibility seized many of the members. Arise and shake yourselves, lest you perish with the multitude; and being partakers of the sins of Babylon, ye be also partakers in her plagues: for I verily believe, the Lord is on his way to try the foundations of the profess|ors of his Truth, that their deeds may be made manifest, whether they are wrought in God or not; and the cause of his suffering seed will be espoused and pleaded, and their wrongs re|dressed.

Alas! my friends, it will not do for us to have been once called and animated of God. Except we dwell under the teachings of that anointing, and wait for renewed baptism to sit us for further service, we shall become dwarf|ish, dry, and formal; and though to an inju|dicious eye, we may appear as flourishing trees; upon examination by a wise observer, good fruit will not be found upon us, such as that its flavour will demonstrate, that the tree has its nourishment from the Eternal Fountain of life and wisdom.

Have a care, lest the world cast a mist be|fore your eyes, and hinder your keeping a sight of that transcendent excellency which is in the Truth; which once engaged some of you to follow it, with sincere desires to know your spi|rits leavened into its pure nature. Remember the day of your espousals, and also, that, as saith the apostle,

If any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.

Let none judge that these lines proceed from a self-sufficiency in me; for I think that I re|tain a just sense of my weakness, and unfitness as a woman for such a service; but I trust some of you know that the wind bloweth when and where it listeth.

I am, with the salutation of unfeigned love to the true seed of God amongst you, sincere|ly desiring their preservation, and that the un|faithful may be warned in time, and turn to the Lord in the day of his mercy, your friend and sister in the Truth,

CATHERINE PAYTON.

27th of 8th Month, 1761.

N. B. This Epistle may appear close and sharp, considering unto whom it was directed; but there was sorrowful cause for it, in some individuals.

EPISTLE VIII. To a Friend of Ireland, written a short Time before I left it, in the Year 1776.

Esteemed Friend,

AS I have had some cause to doubt the rec|titude of our determination of not spending a night at thy house, I am inclined to essay a few lines, as a friendly salutation, as well as to in|timate what appeared to me proper to recom|mend to thy consideration and practice. As a member of society, disengaged from the neces|sity of being much employed in worldly busi|ness, it behoves thee to attend steadily to the filling up that station in the church, for which Divine Wisdom designed thee; that, glorify|ing him with thy body, spirit, and substance, thou mayest, in the conclusion of time, receive the answer of "Well done good and faithful servant;" which those are not likely to be fa|voured with, who

dwell in their cieled hous|es,

and settled down in the enjoyment of their temporal possessions, while the Lord's house lies waste.

There are so few who are of clean hands, and are therefore fit to take part in the active

services in the church; that I cannot but regret the loss of some who are seeking concealment, contenting themselves with preserving a fair character amongst men, and attending on the external duties of religion; but who, had they devoted their faculties to the Lord's service, might have been girded for it, and stood as in the front of the battle. Thus, clothed with concern for the welfare of their fellow mem|bers in society, their zeal for the promotion of Truth would, in an especial manner, be mani|fested by an engagement to cleanse the camp from those who bring a reproach on our holy profession; and for the preservation of our youth from the snares of the enemy. Well, my friend, it is with me to query whether thou hast taken thy proper share in this work, or hast been excusing thyself, and leaving it to others.

I know nothing by outward information, but as something like a jealousy rested on my mind respecting thee, I am willing to intimate it; at the same time assuring thee of my esteem for thee, as one of the Lord's visited children; who, I hope, hast been in a good degree pre|served

from the corruptions that are in the world through lust;

and hast received a portion of that precious faith, which in all ages has been delivered to the saints, through which some in the present day have obtained a good report, and been rendered very serviceable: whether thou mightest not have stood amongst those chosen, and (shall I say) dignified ser|vants, it behoves thee to inquire. Must the

poor and the illiterate, who are "rich in faith" and good works, be brought to condemn those amongst us who have received much spiritually, naturally, and temporally? Yea, verily: some of these have done so little that the sins of omission must be chargeable upon them; whilst others who have had to struggle under difficul|ties in regard to temporal things, and appear|ed comparatively to be of but low understand|ings, have come up nobly in the Lord's cause, and shone as stars in the firmament of his pow|er. Well, my friend, look to thy part of the work, and solemnly attend to the filling up thy measure in righteousness.

Let no man take thy crown.

Something of this sort seemed to point to|wards thee; and in that love which seeketh thy increasing in the increases of God, do I communicate it; and now add a few words in regard to thy wife, for whom thou art doubt|less tenderly concerned, and, considering her delicate constitution, mayest justly fear the con|sequences of her nursing unavailing sorrow. I wish she would imitate David, who, when the child was dead, arose and washed himself and ate: for it is no doubt acceptable to kind Pro|vidence, that when we are deprived of one temporal blessing, we should humbly rejoice in those which remain, and say with Job, The Lord gave and hath taken away, and blessed be his name. Hath he not a right to recal what he hath lent us? But unprofitably to sink under such strokes of his hand, appears to

me to savour of the sorrow of the world, which worketh death, sometimes both to body and spirit, if persisted in. I therefore beg she will look from the beloved object, now no more her's; and consider how graciously the Father of mercies hath dealt with him, in removing him thus early from this state of conflicts. When our attention is rightly turned to consi|der what is lacking in ourselves, we are not so subject unprofitably to ruminate on circumstan|ces like these; but, being principally concerned to be prepared to participate in the happiness of those "who die in the Lord," shall desire that all may finally

work together for our good.

I now conclude in true love,

Your Friend, CATHERINE PHILLIPS.

N. B. These Friends had lately lost a young son.

EPISTLE IX. To a young man (an American).

Respected Friend,

I CONCLUDE this will meet thee prepar|ing to return to thy native country; and I wish thy mind may be impressed with a due sense of the mercies of God vouchsafed to thee in this land, and with an awful inquiry whe|ther thou hast so profited therein, as to return to thy own, wiser and better than thou left it. I am assured that thou hast been favoured with a Divine visitation, intended to subdue thy na|tural will, regulate thy affections, and bound thy pursuits after the acquisition of either inte|rest, pleasures, or knowledge, merely terre|strial; and so to reduce the whole man, that thy mind, being bent upon higher attainments than what would only gratify the natural will and desires, might become capable of enjoying the one only unmixed supreme good; and, being devoted to the service of its bounteous Creator and Benefactor through time, might

participate with him in unchangeable happiness when it terminates. I intreat thee to inquire how far this glorious end has been accomplish|ed and do not slight that great salvation, which in infinite mercy has been offered thee. I fear thy views have been after that honour which is of men, and that the wisdom which will one day be manifested to be foolishness, has been preferred to that which is pure, and which therefore so recommends to the Lord's favour, as to make men his friends. He has favoured thee with natural gifts, which, if sanctified by his refining Spirit, might render thee useful in time. Consider how they have been employed, for be assured, thou wilt one day see that, where much is given, much will be required, and that, "mighty men," if they counteract the design of their creation, will be "mightily tormented" with pungent and un|availing remorse. Therefore prize the day of the Lord's visitation to thy soul, and solemnly attend to the "reproofs of instruction," as the alone way to true happiness, both in time and eternity.

As I intended consigning the enclosed to thy care, an unexpected inclination arose thus to address thee, and express my desire for thy preservation and welfare every way. If thou should be favoured to attain thy native shore, thou mayest perhaps have to remember my la|bour of love for thee: and O! saith my soul, may it, with that of others my fellow-labour|ers, not be bestowed in vain.

My love to the several branches of thy fa|mily with whom I am acquainted. Thy fa|ther's kindness, in accompanying me and my dear companion Mary Peisley when travelling in America, is fresh in my remembrance. Remember me also to such other friends of my acquaintance, as may inquire for me, who am

Thy real Friend, CATHERINE PHILLIPS▪

EPISTLE X. To B. H.—Yorkshire.

Dear Friend,

THY affectionate salutation of the 7th ult. I received and read with a degree of satisfac|tion, as it evinced I lived in the remembrance of an absent friend. When spiritual sympathy is felt with each other, it strengthens the hope of our being continued in the holy membership of the living body of Christ.

Sometime before the receipt of thine, I had been closely tried, and, although I am fa|voured to know on whom to depend for suc|cour and support, encouragement from my fellow-travellers Sion-ward, is truly accepta|ble. There are seasons, wherein I doubt not but it is a cordial to the most advanced; but as for me, I many times fear I am behind some who have not been called to stand forth so con|spicuously in the front of the battle; but whose hidden life may be with Christ, in a greater degree than mine, or some others who have moved in an active sphere. Certainly to

be called up into active service, is a token of Divine approbation; but if any servants who have thus been frequently distinguished, should measure themselves by the services they have been assisted to perform, they may and will cen|tre in deception, respecting their real spiritual state; and may clothe themselves with the Lord's jewels, when they are not adorned with the truly beautiful covering of humility, and a fear of endeavouring to appear to be any thing but what they are through his grace. Thus self-consequence may get up, and if such are not watchful, it will get up, and occasion pain to the truly feeling, though less active members of the church. My sincere and ear|nest desire is, and indeed for a series of years has been, for preservation from it, and that I may constantly centre in my own littleness, yea no|thingness: for indeed in my flesh dwelleth no good thing. All good, and the power of shewing it forth, is of and from its own Divine source. Who are great, but those whom the Lord sees meet to dignify? All is the effect of his wisdom, power, and mercy: therefore to him be the praise, saith my soul; and may I ever humbly confess before him, that I am no|thing, nor can do any thing, but as he puts me forth.

Dear Friend, the work of purification is a great and deep work. May we attend to it, and not seek great things to ourselves, either spiritually, naturally, or temporally, that we may be distinguished among men; but be con|cerned,

that the inside-work of the temple may be completed; and the outside will not want the ornaments Divine wisdom designed it; but we shall move and act in the church in pure gospel simplicity, which will ever tend to its edification.

I was glad to receive a late account that T. Colley and his companion were returned from their perilous voyage. I also hope that there may be some occasion to rejoice, that the Lord is visiting his people in your country (once distinguished for its worthies in Israel), because I hear there are divers late appearances in the ministry among you. May the spirit of the departed Elijahs, so rest upon some of the pre|sent generation, that they may go forth in the same spirit and power wherein they acted; and become instrumental to turn the

hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just.

A truly living baptizing ministry, is much wanted among us; but except the Lord in mercy favour us with such a ministry, silence in our solemn meetings is far preferable. Alas! few, very few indeed, of the present warriors appear to be thoroughly accoutered for the battle of the day. Some are essaying to go forth as in Saul's armour, the wisdom of men decorated with literature; but it will not do the Lord's work. Weapons despised by the worldly wise, are far more efficacious; and although the users of them may be despised also, they are chosen to confound the human wisdom of such, and, if they keep within the

bounds of his appointment, will glorify his name.

I doubt not but that many of my friends in Yorkshire, will be pleased to know that I am better in health than when last in London. I had a long season of weakness after that journey, and am yet weak, compared to what I have been. Remember me affectionately to such of them, as thou knowest will be pleased to receive that salutation; particularly to thy brother and sister, and my cousin S. B. Thy wife and self will receive the same

From thy affectionate Friend, CATHERINE PHILLIPS.

EPISTLE XI. To —, who had been long in a dis|tressed state of mind, from some tenets esteem|ed religious.

Esteemed Friend,

THE sympathy I have repeatedly felt with thy exercised mind hath raised earnest desires in mine, that Divine goodness may vouchsafe more fully to open thy understanding into the "work of righteousness," and so enlarge thy experience therein, that thou mayest witness it to be "peace," and the effects of it

quiet|ness and assurance for ever.

Many are the stratagems of the subtil ad|versary of our happiness to prevent our at|taining to this desirable state, which are only manifested by the light of Truth; whereunto I have wished thy mind might be effectually turned, and thy dependance fixed solely upon the one sure everlasting Helper. For while thou art seeking after men for instruction, and a settlement in the true faith, thou wilt be liable to be tossed to and fro by the various

and opposite doctrines preached; and though ever hearing, mayest never come to the know|ledge of the Truth in its native simplicity. Permit me, therefore, in true love, to intreat thee to cease from them, and humbly to wait upon the unerring Teacher, who can and will "guide thee into all Truth," if thou art dis|posed implicitly to follow him.

It appears to me more necessary now for thee to seek after resignation to the Divine will, than to search into comments upon points of doctrine: for until we attain to that state, we are not likely to

receive the kingdom of God as little children;

who, knowing no|thing, are to be instructed from one point of knowledge and duty to another, and are pas|sive to the direction of their tutors. Those who are resigned to the Father's will, are to know of the doctrines of the son: unto these they are marvellously opened and sealed, so that they can say they believe, not because of the testimony of others, but have

the wit|ness in themselves

that they are the doc|trines of Truth; and thus believing they enter into rest, being certain that they have acquired the knowledge of the Truth; and pressing for|ward under its influence, they experience a gradual advancing to the

stature of manhood in Christ.

It is this holy certainty I desire thou mayest be partaker of, with those who are building upon the ancient

foundation of the apostles and prophets;

for such there are in the

present time as surely as there were in the pri|mitive ages of the church; who know Jesus Christ to be the "Chief Corner stone," and build upon him, and rejoice in him, as their leader, feeder, and instructor; through whom they worship the Father in spirit and in truth; and look up to Him in all afflictions and exer|cises, in humble confidence, that as a tender Father, he careth for them and will supply all their wants.

Thus it was, in the morning of our day as a people, that many sincere souls who had long wandered upon the mountains of profession, and been exercised in various forms of godli|ness, seeking rest, but not finding it therein, obtained a settlement in the Truth as it is now professed amongst us, which they possessed, and rejoiced therein. For although the pub|lick profession of it exposed them to many and grievous sufferings both in person and estate; as well as to the general contempt of the world, whose customs and manners they were constrained to contradict, by a conduct and be|haviour directly opposite thereto; they being devoted to suffering for the testimony of a good conscience, were favoured with that true peace which the world cannot give; and in noisome prisons livingly praised Him who had called them, not only to believe in Christ and his doctrines, but to suffer for him. Many of these have left faithful records of their suffer|ings, exercises, and experiences of the merci|ful dealings of the Lord with their souls;

which may be as marks in the way to those who are sincerely seeking the same city which was prepared for them, and tend to strengthen their resolution to walk as they did; in holy self-denial, in contempt of the world, and in reverence and fear of offending Him, who had graciously manifested himself to them as a God of infinite loving-kindness. His compassion, my friend, faileth not, but all who will come may come, and upon the terms of submission to his will, experience Him to blot out their transgressions, and be a Father unto them. In Him is no variableness, neither shadow of turning: and if we of the present generation cleave steadily to Him, and are willing to die that we may live, we may be witnesses in our day to his power and mercy, and have to tell unto others, what he has done for our souls.

I herewith send thee a collection of me|moirs, &c. of one who had been under vari|ous forms and professions of religion; and was in no mean station in the several religious so|cieties, which in quest of real peace he left; whereof I request thy candid perusal. I was induced to this freedom by frequently remem|bering thee, as I lately read some of them, which seemed adapted to an exercised mind; and hope thou wilt construe it as intended for a help to settle thine in a right engagement be|fore the Lord; unto whose wisdom I com|mend thee, only desiring thou mayest be bap|tized into that state, wherein, with the Cap|tain of our salvation, thou mayest be able to

say, "Father, glorify thy Name," by my en|tire submission to thy will.

I hope thou wilt not suppose from any of the foregoing observations, that I confine the peculiar favour of God, to the members of our society, to the exclusion of others. No, I believe that amongst all sorts of people,

those who fear God and work righteousness are accepted of Him:

but as faithfulness agreeable to knowledge is the terms of our ac|ceptance, it behoves us to seek earnestly for strength to do, as well as to be desirous to know, the heavenly Father's will; and who|ever is thus sincerely exercised is likely to at|tain to his salvation. I am sorrowfully sensible of the great declension there is amongst us as a religious society, from primitive purity and love to God; nevertheless, the principle of light and life we profess, is unchangeably the same; and there are yet with us, who, moving under its influence, rejoice in the manifestation thereof to their souls. That others under the same profession should run counter thereto, is no more than may be expected, though much to be lamented; for as now many hold the profession from education, and are born with passions like other men, until those passions come under Divine restriction, they will pro|duce their natural fruits.

I conclude with desiring, that

the God of all consolation, who raised from the dead our Lord Jesus Christ, the great and true Shepherd of his own sheep,

may so manifest

him as such to thy soul, that

hearing his voice thou mayest follow Him,

and arrive to such an establishment in righteousness as to be favoured with true peace, and sincerely sub|scribe myself thy friend,

CATHERINE PHILLIPS.

EPISTLE XII. Extract of a letter to a Member of our Society, who had spent much of his time very inconsist|ently with his profession of religion, and was favoured with a Divine visitation when far advanced in life.

Swansea, 6th of the Seventh Month, 1778.

Esteemed Friend,

I HAVE several times thought of writ|ing thee since our return from Bristol, but till now have neglected it; and as I know not but we may pretty soon turn homewards, it may appear the less needful for me to do it; but as my mind still bends towards thee, in an affec|tionate concern for thy more firm establishment in the Truth, I am willing to tell thee so, and earnestly request thy constant attention to its dictates; that thereby thou mayest be led out of corrupt self in all its appearances, and con|sequently, into that holy simplicity of mind and manners, which characterises a disciple of Christ.

I have been much afraid lest thou should settle down in a partially converted state, and after having deeply tasted of the terrors of the Lord for past sins, which indeed were slagrant, shouldst content thyself with forsaking them, and neglect to press after inward righteous|ness.

I hope thou wilt excuse me for being thus plain with thee, and that I shall explain my meaning in some degree to thy satisfaction, when I tell thee, that the observations I have made at thy aiming after grandeur or shew, in thy appearance and furniture, has given me pain, as I know it to be the fruit of a mind not truly or fully humbled.

In the general, in the infancy of religion, when conviction for past offences has gone deep enough, the mind is very scrupulous and fear|ful of receiving a fresh wound by the indul|gence of the natural inclination; and fre|quently is led into so strait a path, that when it has been well disciplined by the cross, a little more liberty is allowed in the use of some things, which in that state it was restrained from. This has appeared to me as passing un|der the dispensation of John the Baptist, which was preparatory to that of Christ, and must be experienced in our religious progress. For, although the necessity of the outward shadowy baptism cease, we must be plunged in Jordan, the river of judgment: and as John appeared in great austerity and mortification, having

a garment of camel's hair, and a leathern gir|dle

about his loins, and his meat was locusts and wild honey;

so renewed minds must know that life to be slain, which delights it|self in grand appearances and delicacies, and be content with mean things; so as to walk in contrariety to the world, and be sequester|ed from it, as John was in the wilderness. And under this dispensation of mortification, the mountains and hills are brought down, and the vallies are exalted, and the way of the Lord is prepared; unto which, as the soul is reconciled, rough ways are rendered smooth, and crooked paths straight; and the salvation of God is revealed; and there is an entering into the innocent liberty of the Lord's chil|dren, in the use of his creatures. For al|though

John came neither eating nor drink|ing,

the Lord Jesus came

eating and drinking,

yet in reverence and fear; and though he was

Lord of all, he became of no reputation,

and took upon him the appearance of a servant.

Well, my friend, these things are written for our instruction, and are worthy our atten|tive consideration, that we may see whether we are endeavouring to enter

through the gate into the city

of the saints solemnities. We read,

Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way which leads to life;

and alas!

few find it.

The indulgence of the fleshly mind and natural inclination, prevents many from see|ing it; and though some have seen it, they have not steadily persevered in striving to enter in; and

therefore have rested short of that perfected righteousness they had once a prospect of. Let not this be thy case, but earnestly desire that thy understanding may be fully opened in|to this holy highway which leads to the king|dom, and thine eye be preserved single to God's honour, that thou mayest be enabled so to run as to obtain the glorious crown of im|mortality.

Consider thou hast set out late in this impor|tant race, and therefore it behoves thee to use great diligence in endeavouring to overcome thy spiritual enemies; all of which will be manifest|ed, as thine eye is single, for then thy

whole body will be full of light:

so that thou will be preserved from entering into a league with such of the old inhabitants of thine heart, as are appointed to utter destruction.

The Israelites were deceived by the appear|ance of the wily Gibeonites, thinking them to have come from a far country, when they were near neighbours; as many, for want of cau|tious watching in the light, which maketh ma|nifest what is hurtful in its tendency, have been deceived, and united with those dispositions, in one shape or another, which were for judg|ment.

And it just presents further to say, Beware of that which is without the sacred limits of di|vine prescription. So wilt thou be preserved from all the snares of a subtil enemy, who, so long as he is permitted to tempt us, can suit his baits to every station and situation of life, and

to every stage of our religious experience: which manifests the propriety of our Saviour's precept, not only to one but to all of his dis|ciples,

Watch and pray that ye enter not in|to temptation.

EPISTLE XIII. To a Relation.

Redruth, 29th of Seventh Month, 1793.

ALTHOUGH I have not written to thee since the commencement of thy present sorrow|ful state, thou canst not be ignorant of my sym|pathy with thee; and considering my increased debility for writing (of which I advised thy mo|ther), I might have hoped that thou wouldst not have waited for my doing it before thou hadst addressed me: if but with a few lines, they would have been very acceptable; espe|cially so, if they had breathed a spirit of acqui|escence with the will of the All-wise disposer of events. He knows best on what to lay his hand, in order to facilitate his merciful designs respecting us; and if he deprives us of what is most dear, and which also may appear to be the most valuable and beneficial to us of all his temporal gifts; does he not therein speak this instructive language, Set your affections on things which are in heaven, and not on things which are upon the earth, which must all pass away in their appointed season? They are only lent us as temporary assistants or ac|commodations in our passage through time;

and although they may be rejoiced in and va|lued as his gifts, they are not to be depended upon or loved beyond the appointed standard of his wisdom. It is our interest as well as du|ty, to hold them by the tenure wherewith he has intrusted us with them, viz. to be returned at his call; which always ultimately comports with our real happiness, if

we look not at the things which are seen,

which, however high we may prize them, are but temporal; but steadily behold, with ardent desire of pos|sessing, "those which are not seen" (save with the eye of faith), "which are eternal." My principal concern for thee is, that this eye may be opened widely in thy soul; that thou mayest see and rightly estimate all possessions which are attainable by man; and, beholding and contemplating the transcendent excellency of spiritual gifts, mayest covet them earnestly. This is the only allowable covetousness, and the mind being thus engaged, becomes trans|formed from a state of nature to that of grace: agreeably to the apostle's testimony and expe|rience, viz.

And we all beholding as in a glass with open face, the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image, from glo|ry to glory, even by the spirit of the Lord.

In this renewed state the will of the creature is so absorbed in the will of the Creator, that its life is swallowed up in it; and it does not wish to enjoy any thing which is not

freely given to it of God;

whose inscrutable wis|dom bounds its desires, and under a sense that

it knows not what is best, it refers all thereto, and thus it comes to experience

new heaven and a new earth

to be created unto it, "wherein dwelleth righteousness;" and it abundantly rejoiceth in that which God creates, as it is sensible that

he creates Jerusalem (the city of the solemnities of his saints), a rejoicing, and her people a joy.

Dear —, be not dejected at the present dispensation of affliction, nor indulge reasoning upon causes or events, of which thy natural understanding is incompetent to judge. Re|member that

the Lord hath a way in the clouds, and a path in the thick darkness, and his footsteps are not known;

they can not be fully comprehended by mortals. How vain therefore is the query, Why hast thou suffered this or that? Yea, is it not worse than vain, if our temporal interests, pleasure, or convenience, are put in competition with his will and wisdom? He can restore what he de|prives of, or compensate for it; and often does so abundantly to those who sincerely desire that the light and momentary afflictions may work for them a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, and tend to their increasing in the present state in that superlative blessing which maketh truly rich, and is unmixed with sorrow.

I am persuaded thou hast seen this blessing, yea, hast tasted of it; but remember, this is not enough; thou must attentively behold and consider its worth, and thy desire to attain it

must be strong and steady. If thou possess it and hold it fast, then wilt thou be enabled to say, "I will not be afraid of evil tidings," nor of the consequence of the loss of temporal goods of any kind,

My heart is fixed, trust|ing in the Lord,

who upholdeth his chil|dren, and provideth from one stage of life to another, what is meet for their accommodati|ons, and most conducive to their acquiring that inheritance which is incorruptible and undefil|ed: whereon I earnestly desire thy attention and affection may henceforward be so fixed, that thou mayest experience that what has hap|pened, however afflicting to nature, has work|ed together for thy real permanent good.

I was almost afraid to write to thee, as it appeared like touching a sore which might be a little healed; but I hope my pen has been directed to steer clear of adding to thy pain. I saw nothing of what I have communicated when I began to write. Receive it as a kind intimation from the Father of mercies, as well as the cordial advice, and affectionate desire for thy experiencing thy mind to be so stayed upon the Lord, as to become settled in true peace, of thy sympathizing

CATHERINE PHILLIPS.

I could have wished that the following Letters from my Mother had been inserted in the fore|going Memoirs. They are very expressive of her religious care for me.

The first was sent me at Dublin, (see page 33); the two others to Philadelphia.

I.

Dudley, 8th of Fourth Month, 1751.

My dear and tender Child,

THINE, with the agreeable account of thy arrival at Dublin, thy brother hath wrote thee we received. Thy other dated the 28th ult. which brings the news of thy illness, also came safe; which thou mayest suppose was a great trouble to me to hear; but although at present it is a hard trial to have thee ill so far separate from us, yet I esteem it a favour that thy lot is cast among such careful and good friends, which I desire to be thankful for. It is no small satisfaction to me that thou hast been so easy in thyself, and I would have thee labour against every thing which the enemy in the time of weakness may present, and I doubt not but the same peace will be continued to thee.

Do not think, my dear child, of my afflic|tion on thy account; for as thou wast satisfied it was thy duty to go, and I thought it my duty to give thee up; I trust thou wilt be re|stored to me, and to thy health, and answer the service the Almighty hath sent thee upon to the honour of his great Name: then when|ever we meet again it will be so much to our comfort and thy satisfaction, that with hearts filled with gratitude, we shall, I hope (for we shall have cause), return thanks to Him who is alone worthy.

Although thou knowest that I am very short in expressing myself, yet, my dear child, when I find my mind rightly exercised, my prayers are night and day for thy preservation, as I believe thine are for me. I desire, when thou gettest well enough to go on thy journey, thou wilt consider thy weak constitution, and not overdo thyself.

My very dear love is to the friends with whom thou lodgest, not forgetting their care of thee. I shall now conclude with my dear and tender love, thy afflicted (but not with|out hope) affectionate mother,

ANN PAYTON.

II.

Dudley, 27th of Fifth Month, 1754.

My near and dear Child,

AS I believe that a line from my hand will be very acceptable to thee, I send this, by which thou mayest have the agreeable account, that through Divine goodness I am as well, both in body and mind, considering what I have gone through since I saw thee, as I could have expected, and beyond what I fear I have deserved. And, dear child, I am ready to say in my heart at times, 'Lord, what am I, that thou art thus favouring me with thy goodness? O! that me and mine may ever dwell in no|thingness of self, that thou alone mayest have the praise, who art for ever worthy, saith my soul!'

And, my dear child, although I count the time, and want thy company at home, and in our poor little meeting, I dare not desire it be|fore thou findest thyself clear of thy service, which I desire thou mayest truly observe. The reading of thine notwithstanding it brought an account of the hardship thou hast gone through, although it affected me greatly, I was not cast down; but on the contrary rather comforted, that thou hast been so truly given up and sup|ported

in spirit, to answer the requirings of the Almighty; who, if thou continues faithful to the end, will be thy exceeding great re|ward. Then thou wilt receive that peace which the world can neither give nor take away, and a crown of righteousness.

Dear child, I believe in the reading of this thou wilt find me near to thee, as thou art to me, in that love, distance of place cannot se|parate; in which love I dearly salute thee, and when my spirit is bowed before the Almighty, I believe I shall have thee in remembrance, and now remain

Thy near and dear mother, ANN PAYTON.

III.

Dudley, 9th of Second Month, 1755.

Dear Child,

HAVING this opportunity, I am willing to send thee a few lines, by which thou mayest know that through Divine favour I am as well in health as I can expect; and at times witness a renewing of strength in the inward man; but, dear child, it is through a daily watch. I can find no safer way than a watchful state, that many times prepares the heart for prayer, and helps to pray aright. This is what I desire we may be found in, and then I believe the Al|mighty will hear our prayers for each other; as I am sensible he hath done mine, and answer|ed them in his own time, for which my soul desires to dwell in true thankfulness to Him.

Dear child, I have little more to caution thee of, than what I have done heretofore. Be careful to discharge thyself faithfully in the requirings of the Lord, and be sure take

care of thy health, and then I am not without hope but we shall see each other again in his time.

My very dear love and thy sister's to Friend Pemberton and sons. I am much obliged to them for their affectionate care towards thee, though have not wrote to acknowledge it. As thou knowest my deficiency in that respect, would have thee excuse it to them in the best manner thou canst. Our dear love is to Samuel Fothergill, John Churchman, William Brown, Jonah Thompson, and all inquiring friends that know us.

Now, dear child, with the salutation of en|deared love to thee,

I remain thy tender and affectionate Mother, ANN PAYTON.

P.S. Our dear love to M. Peisley when thou writes her. Thy brother's dear love to thee.

THE END.

Notes

• * 1.1

  An allusion to a dream which the party had, where|in (amongst other remarkable circumstances) he was met in a beautiful garden by two women, represent|ing (according to the interpretation which opened in his mind when he awoke) Virtue and Vanity, who each solicited his company for a walk: and though he strongly inclined to the latter, the former insisted on his accompanying her, not only for a walk but for life; which rather than comply with, he endea|voured to escape out of the garden (which he call|ed the world); but coming to the gate, found it locked, and the key in her possession. So being forced to a compliance, he accompanied her, and became gradu|ally charmed with her conversation, by which, he was won to a love of religion, and in the end much delighted with the prospect of such a companion for life.
• * 1.2

  Or, as it may be translated, overseer.