Anne Dutton's 
    Letters on Spiritual Subjects
    Very Dear Sir,
    I am glad that you still rejoice in your sweet Jesus, though you have no 
    other that you can call a friend. It is enough, beloved of the Lord, that 
    Christ is your Friend, though all others should fail you, and no man care 
    for your soul. There is such an infinite fullness, such an unsearchable 
    depth of love and grace, of wisdom and knowledge, of tender care and loving 
    faithfulness in your own Lord Jesus, that you need not go to the creature 
    for compassion in misery, for ease in trouble, or for solace in sorrow. The 
    Lord, your Friend, knows all your griefs, and by love-sympathy makes them 
    His own. Lay your weary head in Christ's bosom, and pour out your troubled 
    heart before Him. His kind hand will wipe away all your tears, and His 
    precious lips will drop sweet-smelling myrrh for your soul's refreshment. 
    And as Jesus your Friend will be with 
    you in trouble, so, well will He bring you out of it. The wisdom and 
    kindness, the power and faithfulness of the Lord your Friend, will overrule 
    the lack of friendship in creatures, and all unkindnesses and 
    disappointments you meet with from them.
    For myself, I must say, the Lord is still infinitely 
    kind, merciful, and gracious to vile, sinful, unworthy me. It has been His 
    dear pleasure to try me greatly by permitting the ship in which my dear 
    husband sailed for England to founder at sea, to the loss of his life. 
    But most surely the Son of God has been with me in this burning fiery 
    furnace, and His sweet presence, at times, loosed my bands, and caused me to 
    walk at liberty. Heavy was the stroke to my weak nature, but glorious has 
    been the display of divine power in supporting me under it. I long to love, 
    honor, and adore my chiding, smiting, loving God. I believe He does all 
    things well, and what I know not now, I shall know hereafter. I wait for the 
    light of glory to open the mysteries of this dark providence, and rejoice in 
    hope of it. Oh, how fast does our dear Lord gather His lilies! We had need 
    work while it is day—the night comes, in which we can do no more for Christ 
    in this world.
    Into the arms of Jesus—our love, our life, our all, I 
    commit you. His grace be with your spirit.