Robert Robinson, Hauxton, to John Robinson, Eriswell, 11 October 1762.

Hauxton   Oct 11. 1762

Dr Sr

  I have heard Mr Whitefield say, that parting with friends was worse to him than death itself.  No doubt but it is sometimes painful, and perhaps over-balances all the pleasure of their company.  Something of this kind I have often felt, and no wonder, for my inordinate affections are apt to run wild on every object, ready to abuse, rather than use every blessing.  In pursuing temporal things for satisfaction, I am like a school-boy, who runs with expectation--stretches every nerve—lays out all his strength--and not disheartened by a fall, bustles to renew his pursuit, the sole object of which, is a gaudy butterfly, which perhaps eludes his cunning, and if gained, is an acquisition of very little advantage.  Such are all earthly enjoyments.—The creatures of a summer’s day,—short-liv’d pleasures,—the noblest, and best of which have something in them which leave a sting, and speak, loudly speak—It is not in me.— Next to fellowship with the head, Xt, communion with the members is to be desir’d, and I can truly say, to me no blessing equals it,—except the forementioned, but promising myself too much, how often do I find my hopes frustrated.  Perhaps where I expect most, I find least—and where I find much the pain of parting, makes me forget the pleasure I have had in conversing.  Surely he that does all things well, has some wise end in thus disappointing our expectations, which I suppose is to wean us from earthly things, and teach us to set our affections on things above, that it might have this end upon me.

  Two things I observe—First that tho’ fellowship with the saints is one of the greatest blessings it has not sufficient perfection here.  Something painful attends even this,—If friends are obliged to be separate, it fills the mind with grief, as you see in two intimates, Jonathan and David.  See 1 Sam. 20.41.  Their affections burst like a flood, and their silence is a loud voice—Their heart (too big to speak) may be read in their actions.—This is parting—and if friends can abide together, yet something shall appear perhaps to keep our affections in due bounds.—there’s a mixture of the desirable and detestable in every one.  Something to be admir’d, something to be abhorr’d.  See this in two accomplish’d men, Paul & Barnabas.  Acts. 15. 36 to ye end.—Tho’ we should take care not to lessen our love to a brother for discovering that in him which we have too much of in ourselves.

  I observe secondly how excellent, how deserving a friend Jesus Xt is.  I love him too little.  There’s no fear of discovering any imperfection in him.  He’s Aaron’s antitype, with whom is the urim, and thummim, sighs and perfections.—And blessed be his name the day is hast’ning in which we shall enjoy him without intermission to a long & blissful eternity.  And then he’ll tell us why he mix’d the bitter, with the sweet,—to make us better relish him, in whom there’s no bitterness, no want, no imperfection at all and when we anticipate below, what we shall enjoy above, we have

  What nothing earthly gives, nor can destroy.

  The souls calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy.—

  Please to make my real love acceptable to all friends & family, especially, and I remain Dr Sr yrs perpetually

  R Robinson

P.S.  If you can’t read my scratching, do as I was once forcd to do with a friends letter, not legible.  Lay it up and believe it to be love, tho’ in a mist.  I hope you’ll write soon.—Farewell.

Text: Crabb Robinson Correspondence, Vol. 1 (725-99), no. 14, Dr. Williams's Library.