Poor ship. A letter of John Newton to his 14 year old adopted daughter who was away at school.

He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters. The storm subsided and all was calm. Luke 8 24.

My dear Betsy, sometimes when I consider what a world you are growing up into, and what snares and dangers young people are exposed to, with little experience to help them, I have some painful feelings for you. The other day I was at the harbour and saw a ship launched. She slipped easily into the water. The people on board cheered. The ship looked clean and mirthful. She was freshly painted and her colours flying. But I looked at her with a sort of pity.

Poor ship, I thought. You are now in port and in safety, but before long you must go into the wild sea, who can tell what storms you may meet with hereafter, and to what hazards you may be exposed, how weather-beaten you may be before you return to port again, or perhaps you may return at all.

" Then my thoughts turned from the ship to my dear Betsy. The ship seemed to be an emblem of your present state, You are now, as it were, in a safe harbor, that by and by you must launch out into the world, which may well be compared to a tempestuous sea. I could even now almost weep at the resemblance, but I take courage, as my hopes are greater than my fears. I know there is an infallible pilot, who has the winds and the waves at his command. There is hardly a day passes in which I do not entreat him to take charge of you. Under His care, I know you will be safe. He can guide you, unhurt, amidst the storms and rocks and dangers by which you might otherwise suffer, and bring you at last safely to the haven of His eternal rest.

Who is this, he commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him, Luke 8.25. I hope you will seek him while you are young, then you will be happy and I shall rejoice. Nothing will satisfy me but this, though I should live to see you settle to the greatest advantage in temporal matters, unless you love him and live in his fear and favor, you would be quite miserable. I think it would nearly break my heart, for, next to your dear Mama, there is nothing so dear to me in this world as you. But the Lord gave you to me, and many a time upon my knee I have given you back to Him. Therefore I hope you must, and will, and shall be His.

I am with great tenderness, my dear child, your very affectionate father, John Newton."