Pray how do you do, and how is Mrs. B.? Are your bodies in health and do your souls prosper? I inquire alike after body and soul, because they are alike the purchase of Messiah's blood, and equally precious in his esteem. He bought the whole man: our bodies and our spirits are his; his entirely, his for ever; his royal treasure and his precious jewels. For as he has bought them both with one and the same price, so he has loved them with one and the same love. 

     He loved and redeemed; redeemed because he loved, and loved because he would love. As the Father hath loved him, so hath he loved us, our bodies and souls, with love unchangeable and infinite, running through all the vicissitudes of time and all the revolving ages of eternity, without variation or the shadow of a change. O, what a humbling consideration is this, and what a powerful incentive to love and obedience! 
     
          When I consider that Jesus is the everlasting God, the high and lofty one, that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is holy; who dwelleth in the high and holy place, exalted in his own eternal excellence, infinitely above all the blessing and praise that seraphic powers can raise to his name; who humbleth himself to behold the purest and the brightest things that are in heaven, and before whom the whole creation is nothing, less than nothing and vanity; and, when I believe that this high and mighty Lord, infinite in majesty and grandeur, loves me, a worm, an atom, and compared with him, nothing, less than nothing; and not only less than nothing, but worse than nothing, a sinner, a rebel, a traitor, a wretch laden with guilt, in my flesh replete with evil; utterly unworthy of the smallest mercy from his hand, and deserving the utmost possible destruction, I wonder with amazement; I blush and am ashamed; I fall down into the dust before the feet of my infinitely glorious and condescending lover, covered with shame, and filled with self-abasement and self-abhorrence. I grieve and mourn, that sin, which he cannot love, should dwell in me, whom he does love, I am ashamed that I love him so little, who loves me so much; and that I can do scarcely any thing to honour him, who has done, yea, and suffered too, every thing requisite for my complete salvation from eternal disgrace and misery, and is doing every thing needful to raise me to everlasting honour and felicity. I long to be entirely free, not only from the commission of sin, but also from the being of that hateful and accursed thing; to love my gracious redeeming Lord, without intermission, without weakness, without the least imperfection; and to be devoted to his honour and praise, in body, soul, and spirit, every day, every hour, every moment of my future life.