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CAMBRIDGE, May 15, '51
MY DEAR FATHER,—My choice of return home is easily made. I hope very much you will be so kind as to let me go to the Exhibition. Mr. C., who was at Mr. Lewis's, has just called to see me .... I am going to his house to tea, he lodges with Mr. R. I guess I feel no mercy for him; I mean Mr. R.; a cap and gown are poor things to sell one's principles for. You have not written to Mr. Leering.
Where is Mr. Walker? I cannot write, for I know nothing of his whereabouts. We have no minister yet. We have had some excellent supplies. I am very comfortable, and I may say, happy. Were it not for my vile heart, I might rejoice. I am the least of God's people, and I am sure I am the worst. But yet I am one; I believe in Jesus and trust in Him, and this, I take it, is the evidence of life. I can fall into His arms, though I cannot rest on my own merits, for I have none. Jesus and Jesus alone is my defense. I know you pray for me. I think I have felt the answer to your earnest entreaties. Sometimes, I pour my heart out sweetly, freely; at another time, I can hardly bring up a petition, What a contrast, mixture, paradox I am! I hope you and dear Mother are well. Love to all.
Your affectionate son, CHARLES.
HT: Spurgeon Archive
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