sive visitation to many of several folds, almost throughout these extensive lands. I have indubitable confirmation that I am here in the Lord's time. He seems at times to be shaking not the earth only, but also heaven; and that which many have thought very heavenly, is made to vanish as a scroll. May He send forth more labourers. There is much room for it. I almost marvel how some can stay at home. Yet let none run unsent.

Farewell, dear friends, in love that is unfeigned, wherein I am your constant friend,

JOB SCOTT.

My dear wife,

To his Wife.

Fairfax, Virginia, 170 miles from Philadelphia, first-day, 13th of 12th month, 1789.

I received thy letter of 9th month, and have written thee, once or twice since. This is my 16th. I have a few days since, received letters from dear Moses Brown and wife, very acceptable, giving accounts of thy state. I rejoice, that thy health is improving, and hope, ere this, that thou art well as usual. If so, do, dear heart, let me have another token of thy love. Do write me a little of thy condition; how thou gets along; how patience holds out. I have lately scarce any greater exercise, than what arises from thoughts of thee and the family. I hope thou wilt hold fast both faith and patience: I find myself obliged to labour for it, or I should flinch from duty, to get to thee. My desires to get home are as earnest as I dare let them be, on my own account: but what calls my attention home, is much more on thine, than my own account. My love to thee, and the dear babes, is, I believe, fully equal to what it ought to be. But I have so often been made to give up all, since I saw thee, and submit my own will and desires to be crucified and slain, that under the pressure which I still powerfully feel upon me, to labour further in this land, I could in some degree cheerfully,

as to myself, give up to be delayed in my return home, many months longer, rather than bring the bands home with me, wherewith I am girt about; and feel the weight of the service now required, with the additional weight of unfaithfulness.

Do, my dear, a little while longer, give me up freely, and trust in the Lord: he will not fail thee, if thou dost; but bless and sustain thee. I feel too great necessity pressingly upon me, to leave this country yet awhile: though I have no new prospects since I left home; or nothing but what was clearly included in my lively views and openings at that time. travel, some think, almost imprudently, by day and night, to get along; and I assure thee, it is greatly for thy sake. I am scarce ever twice at a place; but after meeting at one place, put on almost immediately for the next. Friends almost marvel, how I could get through last week's travel and labour. It is Quarterly Meeting here. If I go over the Alleghany mountains, to Redstone, I see no possibility of getting ready to come home, till a few weeks after spring meeting. When I left home, and for seven or eight months after, I as fully expected to go to Redstone, as any where at all. That place has been lately much visited. Peter Yarnall has just come from there. I am asking a release; but don't feel quite so clear of that part of the vineyard as would be pleasant, if I go not. If I go, I expect it will be in a few days.

I am well assured, the death of my own will, so far as attained, has saved me from many a bitter pill, since I left thee; and made many a bitter one much easier endured. But I have lately been a little thoughtful, whether I should not look toward home, with an eagerness that would end in a loss to my own soul, and the defrauding of my fellow creatures. If so, in my loss, thou also, dear love, wilt likely feel part of the smart, and taste with me the bitterness. But let us be patient. Let us be faithful. It will not be long, I trust, at longest, till I may be at full liberty to return, so as not to lose my reward. Meanwhile, be careful of thyself and infants. I understand the dear babe is grown, though it looked at first unlikely to live long. Nurse it carefully, and nurture the older ones in the right line. I wish them to read, write, and work a little, and by all means,

be good children, live in love, obey thee, and those they should obey.

I have, since I wrote thee last, passed through a dark vale, in which my trials, in some respects, exceeded all I had known before. But I may tell thee more fully of it, when we are face to face; and may now tell thee, the stream of enlargement, has been more full and constant since, than for so long before, during this journey; if not a good deal more than ever. And I rest unshakenly assured, all will be well, if faithfulness continues to the end but otherwise, have nought to expect but wretched

ness.

Give my dear love to dear father Scott. His glass is swiftly running; may his soul be fitted and made ready for a better world than this. Also my love is to dear father and mother Anthony, and all theirs; especially our dear afflicted sister. May she not cast away her confidence in him who cannot fail her, if she rightly loves him. Also to dear sister Lapham, husband and children, and all my relations, neighbours, and friends.

Do urge dear father Anthony to write to me. I did expect more letters from you. Perhaps you think it is best to disappoint my wishes, for my good. I hope I am, in degree, resigned to it; though I think sometimes, if your souls were in my soul's case, it would bring your pens to paper oftener. Redstone, is yet more of a heavy stone, than I could wish to bring to New England, yet am not certain I shall go there. In fulness of heart-felt affection, and with prayers for thy preservation and patience, I remain thy ever-loving husband, JOB SCOTT.

Dear wife,

To his Wife.

East Nottingham, 5th of 1st month, 1790.

I wrote thee about the middle of last month, at Fairfax. I hope I am since fully excused as to Redstone; and have gone through the meetings in Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania,

except the Eastern Shore of Maryland, and a small number of meetings now before me. I am now at dear George Churchman's. He has very lately buried his wife, and is going with me to a few meetings. I have no steady companion, but get along through ups and downs, so as to find relief from place to place, and feel clear. This is about 52 miles from Philadelphia, but I am now bound further off, pretty far down the Eastern Shore of Maryland, and take the meetings there and in the state of Delaware. So that I now expect to be clear after spring meeting, to come home, taking a few meetings in Jersey, that I have never been at. Dear William Matthews and Elisha Kirk, both of York, (Pennsylvania,) where I was a few days past, were much unwell. William confined to bed, exceeding weak, and Elisha's symptoms very threatening. Peter Yarnall out in truth's service. His dear little wife Hannah is very cheerful, and gives him up nobly. She is a choice little woman. I felt nearly with her, especially as her case brought thine so fresh in view. I also saw my beloved friend Isaac Everett's wife. She is pretty cheerful too, and says she believes she could have no comfort in her dear husband's company at home, when he ought to be abroad.

Oh! my dearly beloved, I often admire more at poor women, with families of children around them, being given up, and kept so, through their husbands' long absence, than I do at those who go forth being given up. For we feel the deep and pressing necessity, the "wo unto us," if we refuse; and this constraineth us, that we dare not turn our backs; but that our dear lonesome wives, should bear up under every trial, in our absence, without a murmur, (they not so sensibly feeling our weight of necessity,) this is truly, at times, to me admirable; but I consider," he that hath called us is holy," and able to do all things. May he still give thee, my dearest, true patience, and preserve thy mind in cheerfulness and resignation. And in thy submitting wholly unto that which alone can thus preserve thee, I am well assured, thy peace, in the end, will " flow as a river." My spirit is often with thee, sleeping and waking, and my silent intercessions still ascend on thy behalf, that guardian angels may attend, and keep thee safe from harm.

The foregoing I wrote before meeting. We have since been blest with showers of celestial rain, in a large heavenly meeting here. I am often made to marvel at the sheddings forth of the holy anointing oil, in our meetings. Many times, when constrained to stand up, I feel as if I could scarce possibly get along; and yet keeping low, and guarding against every thing creaturely, I often find that before I am aware of it, as Solomon says, my soul is like the chariots of Amminadib. Great is the openness and tenderness, among multitudes. And I have a fulness of divine evidence that "my labour is not in vain, in the Lord." Do try to give me up freely till spring; the more freely, the fuller, I believe, will be thy joy. I should long, if I dared, to get home sooner, but find my peace is not full but in full submission. However, the time will not, I trust, be long, till we meet again in joy. Do all thou can, I pray thee, for the dear children's preservation. May they be good, obedient children, and love one another. Give my dear love to my relations and friends. Worldly matters are submitted to thy, and thy dear parents' disposal, till I return. My health is middling. I still cough. I sweat, and then take a little cold. This prevents full health, but am favoured to keep along, and move faster than some think advisable; but I have solid peace, and believe delays are dangerous. This is at least my seventeenth letter to thee. Do write me once more, between this and spring. I crave it of thee, as thou lovest me, and wishest my consolation.

And now, in the overflowings of love and endearment, to thee and the dear children, and to our beloved Remember, I bid thee a hearty and affectionate farewell, resting thy true and loving husband in life, and I hope till death,

JOB SCOTT.

VOL. II.-19