able lines from Newport, time of Yearly Meeting, and the letter before that, came pretty duly; but as I had, just before the first arrived, written thee, (may be from Liverpool,) and very shortly before that from London; and as I have been very closely engaged, I may have omitted writing thee, now too long. Dear sister R's, were also very welcome-two whole ones, and a piece joined to Sarah Hoxsie's, in 8th month. This is the last account I have had; and then my dear daughter Lydia, was ill of a fever. I desire to hear if she lived through it; and if so, how her health, and that of the rest is. I have just got through a very trying visit to Ireland; been at all the meetings, and thought to go soon for England; but since the National Half-year's Meeting, now just over, I am shut up here; and don't know whether I must go back, or not. I left and passed through some places, very hastily, to get to said meeting, and scarce feel easy to leave Ireland; but as I don't find strength, and clearness yet to return, perhaps after a few days, I may get away for England: if so, it is likely I may spend the winter in the north of England. My health is but indifferent, and has been so, nearly all the time I have been in Europe; some pretty low times I have had, in body and mind, sore breast and lungs, &c. ***** Friends in Ireland are of the kindest sort, many of them would be most agreeable company to one who was at liberty to enjoy agreeable company; but this is seldom my case. I am mostly under as much probation as I can well live through, even so that it often requires a good deal of submission to be rightly thankful for existence; which during many painful, anxious moments, scarce seems a blessing. But my heart is often hushed and awed into humble acquiescence with all the divine dispensations; and then I see and feel it is not in vain that I am. May I ever so abide the turning of the holy hand, as not to live in vain. Dear Samuel Emlen, pretty well for him, in London, visiting Friends' families, in his usual way of freedom. G. Dillwyn and wife well. S. Harrison, very industriously employed; has been through N. and S. Wales, and Scotland, since she left Ireland; gets on bravely, and to satisfaction. E. Drinker in England, well received, and produces sealed commission. Poor I, have had some precious seasons, now and then, which demand my re verent acknowledgements, notwithstanding all my abasements. Thy account of removals from stations in the select meeting, is truly mournful. I much desire dear may yet be favoured to have his last days his best. Thy expressions of union and fellowship, beyond what any earthly thing could produce, were very grateful to my poor soul; I think I can add an hearty amen to them. May we ever so walk as to experience a blessed increase in that best of all fellowships. I am trying to take all patiently, and go through all willingly. Indeed I do go on wil lingly; but it is as I am driven, and because I can find no other way of peace. However, if continued tribulations attend me to the end, it is little to be minded, if the end be in peace. Do write me often, and give me such information as thou thinks well to do. Are all mine and thine well? Do they do well? Is there any growth in the truth? or other alterations? Is dear father Scott alive? is he quiet? has truth laid any deeper hold of him? I have latterly been anxious for his eternal welfare; and desire nothing may be omitted for his present comfort. Let him know my love is not at all diminished towards him; nor my desires for his good. To dear sister Lapham, her husband and children, present my salutation of endeared love; as also to all my other relations; and all my dear friends. If my dear friend Thomas Arnold has no feelings nor sentiments to convey, I forgive his silence. I thought some of my friends would have written me, but thyself, sister, M. Brown, and S. Hoxsie, are all. Let my dear worthy mother be assured I remember her with feelings of love; the Lord reward her, for all her kindness to me and mine. In that which changes not, farewell. I am thine-] am yours, JOB SCOTT. Dear sister Remember, A piece of a letter may pay for a piece, and thine though a piece, was very acceptable; and don't omit any opportunity to do the like again. I oft remember my dear babes, left in part under thy care; and hope any attention bestowed on them by thee, and the rest of you, may be recompensed into your bosoms, with sweetness of true peace. But don't I owe thee for a whole letter, or two? Well, I am too poor to pay now, and I pray thee have me excused: be so kind as to write me again, and I hope I shall one day be able to write as of old. If not, the divine will be done. But poor as I am, I sincerely wish thy encouragement, and preservation in the highway of holiness. Let nothing be able to turn thee aside, nor to relax thy pursuit. This world scarce affords one true joy out of the life of truth, and all the bitter cups to be met with in the way of truth, are better than silver or gold. My health thou wilt hear of by the foregoing, and also my progress, and state; so I cannot add much. Words made or forced, do no good. I wish to be limited in writing, as well as in speaking. In conversation I am so, almost to an extreme. I believe many wonder what it means, in this land; but how can I talk when I have nothing to say, and when my heart is full of anguish? No grief for outward things, is equal to the pangs of Sion's travellers. No outward thing is too dear to be parted with for truth; but a total erasure of all sense of good in the soul, requires great patience to endure. But let us trust and hope through all. The day always follows the night. I never knew it fail; and trust it never will. 8th. I am now clear of Dublin, after two meetings to-day; one very large this evening; but I now see nothing else likely to do, but going back towards the south of Ireland; whether as far as Cork, I don't know; nor whether I may see Dublin again. I have got some relief from my late burthens and imprisonment; but seem still in a tried state about future procedure. I think to go to-morrow for Ballitore, about 28 Irish miles southward; and must be dependant on divine aid from day to day. I beg you will remember me, and not omit to write. Love to all relations and friends. I am affectionately thine, and yours, all. JOB SCOTT. Last Letter from Ireland. Dearly beloved parents, (all three,) 14th of 11th month, 1793. brothers and sisters, relations and friends, I am now at Ballitore, twenty-eight Irish miles from Dublin, and I suppose undoubtedly entered five days into the small-pox; the eruption began yesterday, and is very greatly increased to-day. I am very agreeably attended by physicians and the kindest of friends. I believe this is, on several accounts, one of the most favourable situations for having this disorder, in the nation, but my physicians are apprehensive that it will not prove the most favourable kind, nor perhaps of the most unfavourable. My distress of body, through extreme difficulty of breathing, &c. has, for a short space of time, been almost equal to any thing I can suppose human nature capable of, but, (it is now half-past nine at night,) this has been a very comfortable day; and just now, and for several hours past, I have been almost as easy as at any time in my life; I think certainly never more so in mind. I feel no kind of alarm; but the issue is certainly very doubtful. I feel easiest to address you in this manner, principally that you may know that my mind enjoys a fulness of that which removes beyond the reach of all sorrow, but I have some other matters also to mention. I made my will very directly after the decease of my much beloved wife; it is now easy to my mind, and I desire it may be faithfully executed. 1 have steadily desired my dear father Anthony would lend what advisory aid he well can, in regard to the government of my dear children, both in temporals and spirituals. They are placed so that I have been pretty easy, but I could wish them to get a little more learning than some of them are at present in the way of; and although I do not wish much of the world's polish, yet it is at this awful moment my desire, that they may not be brought up with much rusticity; for this, I believe, has not very often contributed either to civil or religious usefulness. There is scarce any thing that makes longer life desirable, but to finish the field of religious labour, which I had hitherto mostly thought was not yet done, especially with regard to digesting my Journal and some other writings. Indeed, it has often felt as if I should probably die in debt to the world, if I did not even make some considerable additions upon some subjects that may have been thought a little peculiar to myself, but which, I still believe, are as strictly in the very life and essence of the gospel, as I believe any truth whatever; there is not the least scruple in my mind about them. I trust I as firmly be lieve in the divinity of Christ, as any man living; but I have no more belief that there are two divinities, than two Gods. It is altogether clear to my mind, that that one divinity actually became the seed of the woman, and bruised the serpent's head, as early as any man ever witnessed redemption from sin, and is one in the head and all the members, he being like us in all things, except sin. My only hope of eternal salvation is on this ground; nor do I believe there has ever been any other possible way of salvation, but that of a real conception and birth of the divinity in man. It is not now a time to enlarge; there are several sketches of this doctrine in my Journal, and several other very unfinished little essays. On the ocean I wrote over about a quire of paper, which I believe is now in my trunk, at John Elliott's, which I was ever a good deal doubtful whether some parts of it, not par ticularly upon these points, were not more in a way of abstruse reasoning, than might be best for a Friend to publish. Be that as it may, I am very apprehensive, that most of my writings are far from properly digested, and some of them, I believe, might be a good deal better guarded. Our views of things do not usually open all at once; it is so in the individual, it is so in the world. Things have hitherto been gradually evolving, and it may be consistent with Infinite Wisdom, that such a progression should always continue. At the present day, things are considerably ripening, and I have not the least doubt, that, before a great while, a highway will be opened through kingdoms and nations, where darkness has long reigned, for the publication of the everlasting gospel, in its true life and authority; and as what is revealed in the ear, is in due time to be declared on the house-top, I have little or no doubt, that the true doctrine |