The Life and Death of Joseph Alleine, Letters · Letter 37
LETTER, XXXVII. [God is a satisfying Portion.]
My most dear Pylades,
HAd not my right hand long since forgot her cunning, and the Almighty shook the Pen out of my hand, I should long ere this have been writing to thee: but it is a wonder of Divine Power and goodness that my soul had not before this time dwelt in silence, and that death had not put the long period to all my Writing and Converse.
O my Pylades, what shall I say unto thee now I begin to write, where shall I begin, when shall I end? methinks I am as a full Bottle quite inverted, where the forward pressing of the overhasty Liquor makes the evacuation more flow, and my thoughts are like a thronging croud sticking in the door.
Long is the Song of Love that I have to tell thee, I rejoice in the constancie of thy Love, that the waters of so long a silence, and so great a distance have not yet quenched it, but thy desires are towards me, and thy heart is with me, though Providence hath hindred me from thy much desired Company. I will assure thee it hath been a pleasure to my heart a good part of this summer to hope that I should come one half of the way to give thee a meeting; but such is my weakness hitherto, that I am forced to put off those hopes till the Spring, when, if God give me strength to ride, I intend to see thee before mine own Home. I thank thee for all the dear expressions of thy servent love: Methinks I see it, and feel how it runs through all the Veins of every Letter, nay, every Line; I needed not so chargeable a Testimony as thy golden Token, with which I was something displeased, because I thought thou needest more than my self: but the love there-by expressed is most dearly welcome to me. What thou talkest of Retribution, and of Justice doth not so well relish with me, because the Phrases seem improper to the love profest between us, I never looked for any return from thee but love, which is the paying of all thy Debts: my expences have indeed been vast and almost incredible; but surely goodness and mercy hath followed me, and do follow me in every place, and in every change of my condition; so that as to temporals I have lack of nothing, and as for spirituals I abound and superabound, and the streams of my comforts have been full and ruuning over; the joy of the Lord hath been my strength at weakest, and in the multitude of my thoughts within me, his comforts have refresh'd my Soul, I have found God a satisfying portion to me, and have sat down under his shadow with full delights, and his fruit is most sweet to my taste: he is my strength and my Song, for I will take of him, and write of him with perpetual pleasure. Through grace, I can say, methinks I am now in my Element, fince I have begun to make mention of him, I am rich in him, and happy in him, and my soul saith unto him with David, Thou hast made me most blessed for evermore, and happy is the hour that ever I was born to be made partaker of so blissful a Treasure, so endless a felicity, so Angelical Prerogatives, as I have in him; O sweet are his converses, how delightful it is to triumph in his Love!
Suffer me to be free with thee, where should I pour out my Soul, if not into thy bosom? did the poor woman call upon her friends and neighbours to rejoyce together with her at the finding of a lost Groat? and shall not I tell to thee the keeper of the sacrets of my Soul, and the friend of my inmost bosom, what a friend is the Lord to me, though an unworthy sinner, shall not I run and tell thee what a treasure I have found. And here methinks the story of the Lepers comes not unaptly to my mind, who said one to another when they had eat and drunk, and carried away silver and gold, and rayment, and went and hid it, we do not well, this day is a day of good tidings and we hold our peace. It is fit that I should be cloathed with shame; I acknowledge before God, who trieth the hearts, I am unworthy, everlastingly unworthy, but it is not fit that he should lose his praise, nay rather, let him be the more ador'd, and magnifi'd, and admir'd for ever and ever, and let my Secrets say, Amen. Bless the Lord, O my soul bless the Lord, O my Friend, let us exalt his Name together, he is my solace in my solitude, he is my standing comforter, my tried friend my sure refuge, my safe retreat, he is my Paradise, he is my Heaven; and my heart is at rest in him: and I will sit and sing under his shadow, as a Bird among the Branches; and whither should I go but unto him? Shall I leave the fatness of the Olive, and sweetness of the Fig-tree, and of the Vine, and go and put my trust under the shadow of the Bramble? No, I have made my everlasting choice: this is my rest for ever, he is my Well-beloved in whom I am well pleased. Suffer me to boast a little here, I may Glory without vanity, and I can praise him without end or measure, but I have nothing to say of my self: I find thou dost overvalue me, and magnifie me above my measure; set the Crown upon the head of Christ, let nothing be great with thee but him, give him the glory: but thy love pleaseth me, only I have this exception, that thou art in love with thine own Idol, as Austin somewhere speaks to a friend of his that did too much magnifie him, and magnifiest a Creature of thine own sancie, and not thy poor Orestes: God that knoweth all things, knoweth my poverty, how little, how low, and how mean I am, and how short I come of the attainments of the Saints, who yet do themselves come so exceedingly short of the Rule that God hath set before us: I often think of the Complaint of the devout Monsier [I feel my self very poor this week, and very defective in the love of God; if you would know wherein you may pleasure me, love God more; that what is wanting in me, may be made up in the abundance of your love:] in this, my Pylades, in this thou mayest most highly pleasure me; love God a little the better, praise him a little the more for my sake; let me have this to please my self in, that God is a little the better loved for me, and that I have blowed up, if it be but one flash, nay, but one spark of Divine Love in the bosom of my dearest friend towards him.
But why, my Pylades, why is thy stile towards me changed? why hast thou lost the old and wonted strain of our former pleasing familiarity? this I could not but observe with some disgust, is it because thy heart is changed; but this is a question in which I cannot ask any resolution; I am satisfied and at rest in thy love, but what this alterations means, I know not; art thou willing by degrees to grow strange; it cannot be, thou seest however that I cannot change my voice.
Busides, I find some jealous passages in thy last lines unto us; but cast thou think that … can be put into the ballance against my old Friend, my own, my Covenant Pylades, or can a friend of words come into any competition or comparison with thine experienced love? I cannot entertain the thoughts of this without some disdain.
But thy needful cautions are acceptable to me, I desire to foresee and provide for manifold changes and storms; I know I am not yet in the Harbor; O pray with me that I enter not into Temptation, for I am very weak in Spirit, as well as in body, God knoweth. But there is no end with me, somewhere or other I must break off, and thou wilt say it is time to shut up; for once onelyonly know, that I am thy daily Orator, and will be whilest I am: and yet once more I must have room to add my thankful acknowledgement of thine and thy costly kindness; and so with our most dear affections to you both, I commend you to the God of love, still abiding.
Thy fast and sure Orestes. Bath, Octob. 13. 1668.