To His Dear Friend, Mr. W. Greenhill
Sir,
Many strugglings I have had about publishing these notes: I have looked up to God, and at last been persuaded upon these grounds:
1. The many desires both of friends and strangers, both by private speeches and letters, which I thought might be the voice of Christ.
2. Some good (as I hear) those which are already out have done, and which the rest might do, which I have looked on as a testimony of the Lord's acceptance of them.
3. I knew not what the Lord's meaning should be to bring to light by his providence without my privity, knowledge, or will, the former part, unless it was to awaken and enforce me (being desired) to publish the rest; our works I thought should resemble God's works, not be left imperfect.
4. I considered my weak body, and my short time of sojourning here, and that I shall not speak long to children, friends, or God's precious people, I am sure not to many in England, to whom I owe almost my whole self, whom I shall see in this world no more; I have been therefore willing to get the wind, and take the season, that I might leave some part of God's precious truth on record, that it might speak (oh that it might be to the heart) among whom I cannot (and when I shall not) be. I account it a part of God's infinite grace to make me an instrument of the least good to any. If the Lord shall so far accept of me in publishing these things, it is all that I would desire; if not, yet I have desired forgiveness in the blood of his Son, for whatever errors or weaknesses may be in it, or are in myself, which may hinder success, and frustrate its end; only what I have in much weakness believed, I have written, and sent it to you, leaving it wholly with yourself, whom I much love and honor, that you would add or detract anything you see meet, (so as it be not cross to what I have writ) and if you then think it meet for public view, you see upon what grounds I am content with it; but if you shall bury it, and put it to perpetual silence, it shall be most pleasing to him who thinks more meanly of it than others can,
Thomas Shepard.
