Jesus, and the work of his Spirit on the heart. I have often admired
that grand promise in the book of Job, “Thine age shall be clear as the
noon day.” It is very blessed to look back on the way the Lord has led
us, and the work he has wrought in us—may he give you special light to
see it. The Queen of Sheba admired many things about Solomon’s
buildings, and the Holy Ghost has thought fit to record this one among
the rest—the ascent to the house of the Lord. Blessed be God you have
got up some of those steps; and though you may be sensible of many a
stumble, and many a fall by the way, yet you have not fell from God, nor
out of the way, and as sure as your hope, faith, and mind is supremely
placed on him, you will gradually ascend that road, which you will find
lead you to glory at last. Perhaps you have ascended seven of those
steps: first, God has shewed you in some measure, and at times very
deeply, that you have no good in yourself. Second, he has been pleased
to let in a ray of light into the mind, by which you have seen something
so precious in Christ, that you could truly say, you would willingly part
with all for him. Third, the blessed Spirit has bowed your will, or
rather given you another will, a new will, by which, you have made a most
blessed choice of the Lord Jesus, who is the object of the Father’s
delight, so that you could see your will and the will of God, perfectly
correspond. Fourth, the Lord has given you to believe in Jesus, to
present salvation: your heart has most divinely rested upon his finished
work, and you have found it very safe. Fifth, you have enjoyed the
privileges of the children, in fellowship with those who love God, at his
table, in his house, and in his word. Sixth, the habitual sanctification
of the mind, in various actings; sometimes of faith, hope, love,
humility, patience, and self-denial. Seventh, a resting satisfied with
Christ, as all in all; anxious for more knowledge of him, that you may
feel your confidence in him grow—that you may be more than ever devoted
to his glory. Thus you can say, to the honor of the blessed Spirit, that
he has led you up some of those steps of experimental knowledge—and let
me assure you, from the most undoubted authority, that as many as are led
by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. I feel great pleasure in
writing this short note—blessed be God nothing alters the religion of the
heart, only it must be tried, something will surely try it; all the
spoils that were taken from the enemy among the Israelites, was to go
through fire, or through water, and as we are the spoils Christ has taken
from the enemy, so we must go through the water of common trials, and the
fire of uncommon afflictions—but hark! how graciously he speaks,
For I will be with thee,
Thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee
Thy greatest distress.
The Lord bless you for ever.—Your’s, truly,
_Ruhamah_.
LETTER XII.
_Valley of Achor_, _Oct._ 20, 1818.
Mrs. E—R.
MY DEAR FRIEND,
Agreeable to my promise, I will attempt an answer to your anxious letter,
although I feel great reluctance in so doing, knowing well, that not he
which commendeth himself should be approved, but him whom the Lord
commendeth. It is the mercy of all God’s children, that they stand
approved in Christ, and as an evidence of it, they, through the teaching
of the holy Spirit, approve of Christ, and all in Christ. Our work, as
fellow Christians, should consist daily in commending Christ, and
recommending him to each other—this ought to be our constant employment
and delight, especially ministers of the gospel, in their public
exercises; but alas, we live in a day in which I am sorry to say, the
man, who can best commend himself, set up his own experience, and dwell
much upon the marvellous, is the man who is the most acceptable. This is
an awful proof of the degenerate state of the church, yet I do consider
it as my duty, to vindicate myself and friends, from that censure which
we do not merit, and which is most unjustly heaped upon us. In doing
this in my address to you, I aim merely to correct some mistakes under
which you lay, and feel much bondage as the consequence. In doing this,
I could certainly fill a volume, but I shall only _assure you in a few
words_, _what_ IS, _and what is_ NOT _the case_.
First: You have beep informed that I am happy. In reply to this I beg to
observe, I cannot be very comfortable, when I reflect that the precious
cause of Christ, probably, has received a wound through my
carelessness—and _if_ any part of my conduct has given occasion for the
enemies of Christ to blaspheme, or to increase their hatred to the
Gospel; this is an heart-breaking circumstance to me.—Secondly: To be
deprived of the blessed ordinances which I once so richly enjoyed, is a
source of much sorrow—never did I know their value as I now do; nor can I
wonder at David, when in exile exclaiming, “My flesh and heart crieth out
for the courts of my God.”—Third: The afflictions of the Church since the
commencement of my troubles, in September, 1816, must deeply affect me.
Its loss of that poor, feeble ministry of unworthy me. Its divisions,
and the many apparent attempts to deprive them even of the place to meet
in; with the scoffs, jeers, and contempt of the proud they have to bear.
Believe me I am grieved for the afflictions of Joseph, for surely no
vessel in a storm has been much worse torn to pieces than our poor
Church, which I have long named the “Packet Distress.” Another part of
her affliction has been from the lies of certain Ministers, who have
attempted to build their Churches with what materials they could collect
from us, to keep up the fire amongst us, and increase our
afflictions—they are perpetually running about, to degrade both myself
and people. I could mention their names, if it were prudent, but they
are well known. The main point they aim at, is to hurt me in the
estimation of _the few godly characters we have left_, and _this_ is
their common cant—“No doubt Mr. C. is certainly a fallen character, but
even _that_ we might pardon, did we but see him sorry for it; but instead
of that, he is as cheerful, light, and trifling as ever.” This is always
expressed with much seeming pity, sorrow, and concern, but could you see
the heart of hypocrisy lurking at the bottom, and the infernal design of
such initiations, you would despise such persons, who are described in
the Bible as hawking pedlars—“Thou shalt not go up and down as a tale
bearer among my people.” Such are like sharks, following a sick
ship.—And now comes another daring, cruel, and unjust charge: “O, Mr. C.
I hear, is supported in his situation by just such fellows as himself.”
But my dear friend, the persons who support me, and my dear children, are
chiefly a few pious women, of good character, and who are well known in
the Church: and as to bad characters, men or women, whom I know to be
such, I am determined at all times to deal faithfully with, and then they
will soon leave me. Another charge you hear of is “That there are many
bad people in the congregation, and who attend the sacrament now.” This
is another falsehood, for the deacons will not allow any person of bad
conduct to communicate with the church at the Lord’s supper; and if you
know any that do, in that church, you are highly culpable if you do not
inform the deacons of it—“Thou shalt not suffer sin upon thy neighbour.”
Many persons, both public and private characters, have used the tongue to
degrade both myself and the people who worshipped with me, but who would
find enough to do, to look at home; while they can find out one fault,
which they suppose I possess, their neighbours, perhaps, can find out an
hundred of theirs.
It is truly laughable to see the toil, trouble, and expence that many
have been at to circulate my supposed infamy, that would not take that
trouble, either to save their own souls from hell, or relieve an
afflicted person; yet such make a profession of religion, and assign the
same hypocritical reason for their opposition to me, which the heathens
did of old for their oppression of the Israelites, (Jeremiah l. ver. 7.)
All that found them have devoured them, and their adversaries said, we
offend not, because they have sinned against the Lord. Much these
heathen cared about the Lord—and as to my professing foes, I beg you will
always recommend them to the prophecy of Obadiah, it is but one
chapter—but do point to them from the 10th to the 16th verse. When such
professors come to you with a budget of scandal, just put your finger on
this text, as already quoted, and ask them the meaning of it: “Thou shalt
not go up and down as a tale-bearer among my people.” And when you see
them quite enjoy the subject of censure and backbiting, shew them this
text: “And dust shall be the Serpent’s meat, for Ephraim feedeth upon
ashes.” And when there are plenty around your table, pouring out scandal
in abundance, always turn to this text—Isaiah 28, “For all tables are
full of vomit and filthiness; there is no place clean,” “and this is the
mess which dogs are fond of.”—See 2 Peter ii, ver. 22. This will be the
best cure for scandal, and will keep your heart stedfast in God’s
covenant; and although dark may be the cloud on me at present, stay till
the Lord appears for me—Judge not my state or case _yet_; this is not the
time for passing an opinion.—Job’s friends erred in this work; they all
three agreed to torment him, because they thought he was an hypocrite,
but you know how mistaken they were.
This leads me to notice another insinuation, that “Surely J. C. is an
hypocrite!”—This is a most frightful charge, and in general a common
epithet cast upon _all_ those who profess religion; and as it is the
worldling’s sneer, it is not worth notice. What I really am in God’s
sight is best known to himself; and as it respects my conversion, call,
and ministry, I shall certainly write it while I am here; and if the Lord
ever raises up my head again, I shall certainly publish it, for the
magnifying that grace which the Lord has so bountifully bestowed on me,
and which will give some satisfaction to my friends, and no doubt afford
my enemies a treat also. But, as it respects the subject of hypocrisy,
let my enemies tremble in reading this text: “Beware ye the leaven of the
pharisees, which is hypocrisy:” they assumed the garb of sanctity, and
professed much love to the law; made a stir about external holiness and
charity, yet, inwardly, they were full of enmity, spite, malice, and
hatred to the truth. Deemed others as Antinomians, or enemies to the
law, while they were the worst enemies to the law. An old author has
pointed out thirty-three kinds of hypocrites, which I send you for your
reflection; and at the same time, knowing the deceitfulness of the human
heart, may we ever pray with David, “Cleanse thou me from my secret
faults.”
The Arch Hypocrite is the Devil himself, and he is the father of all the
following children.—There is
The natural hypocrite.
The civil,
The moral,
The political,
The theatrical,
The heretical,
The schismatical,
The superstitious,
The ignorant,
The profane,
The counterfeit convert,
The worldly,
The religious,
The stinted,
The waxing,
The temporary,
The preaching,
The hearing hypocrite,
The praying,
The inspired,
The believing,
The hoping,
The fawning,
The repenting,
The fearing,
The patient,
The obedient,
The talking,
The idle,
The zealous,
The judging,
The libertine,
The scandalous.
It is an awful thing when a man deceives himself, and such, alas, is the
case with every unconverted character: but no believer in Christ, who is
made acquainted with the plague of his own heart, but must lament the
hypocrisy he daily feels within himself; and must with joy and grief
acknowledge with the truly excellent ERSKINE—
I’m _without_ guile an Israelite,
Yet like a guileful hypocrite,
Maintaining truth in the inward part,
With falsehood rooted in the heart.
And this is the holy Spirit’s account of a pardoned and justified man in
Christ, in whose spirit there is no grille, yet his nature makes him
often sigh, O wretched man that I am! I trust the ever blessed Spirit of
all grace will most effectually purge away my pride, self-will,
stubbornness, rebellion, and carelessness, according to his gracious
promise: “And I will purge out the rebels from among you.” But this
cannot be accomplished without deep afflictions. You know the generally
received maxim—Violent maladies require violent remedies.
Another method the above persons adopt is to degrade my ministry, by
asserting that “All I ever advanced was from strength of memory.” If
this was the case, it is certainly very much to my credit, that I was so
much given to study as to fill my mind with sufficient matter to preach
so often as I did, near thirty Sermons a month, for fourteen years, and
for these ten years past to the same people.—But you shall hear what an
envious preacher said in company, who has just left us: “Oh, as to C’s
religion and preaching, he was generally running about with a parcel of
gay young people, till the last moment he had to come into the pulpit—and
as to Sermons, why he generally went into his study and learned a Sermon
by heart, and then came and preached it.” This is so palpable that it is
not worth contradicting. How I can be running about with gay young
people till preaching time, and at the same time be in my study, learning
a Sermon by heart, I don’t know—and yet, would you believe it, this
contradiction was received by the company. Some people will believe any
thing but the truth; and it is no wonder God permits them to be always in
bondage about the minister they professed to be blessed under. It was
most justly remarked by a good man, when gossips came to him with a story
against his minister, “And pray has not the preacher one good
qualification—not _one_, that you can tell me of, either as a man, a
christian, a preacher, a husband, a father, or a neighbour? Strange to
tell, if he has not—and if he has, would you call to tell me of that? I
believe not.”—Dear Mrs. E. go thou, and do likewise.
As to the present prosecution, whether guilty or not, is not the point;
only it is necessary to remind you, the prosecution is _not_ for falling
into the crime, but most explicitly for (as they chuse to word it) an
_intent_ only. But whether I was actually guilty or not, even of _that_,
let the prosecutor’s own words settle it. He has positively declared,
that I was _not_ guilty of any indecorous act to him whatever.—Here I
leave this subject to your reflection, and conclude by observing to your
last remark, that you disapproved of an assertion of mine once in the
pulpit, namely, “That if a child of God had not felt the terrors of the
Law yet, perhaps they would before their death, and therefore it was
right to expect, or look out for them.” God forbid that I should limit
the Holy One of Israel in his operations of grace in the hearts of his
children, but this I know, that very few of God’s children has escaped
them, though at first they might have been allured into a knowledge of
Christ, yet they felt the storm on the road. Abraham, David, Job, Heman,
Asaph, Hezekiah, and many others found it, and so may you; it is best to
be prepared by a spiritual acquaintance with the Lord Jesus Christ, in
his person, work, love, offices, and promises. I thank you for your
faithfulness to me—he that rebuketh a wise man shall find favour—and may
a full free-grace reward be given thee of the Lord God Almighty, under
whose wing thou hast long trusted. Pray for me, that I may be more wise
for the future, and more useful to God’s family. And, O help me to
praise him, that I am still a bush burning, yet unconsumed, because I am
one.
_Ruhamah_.
LETTER XIII.
_Valley of Achor_, _Nov._ 13, 1818.
Mrs. N—H.
MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,
I AM anxious to hear how thy God supports your mind under the afflictive
dispensation.—Little did I think that we should so speedily lose one that
was dear to us both—to me as a friend, and a conscientious christian, but
as every thing to you, next to God and your own soul. But we shall meet
again, where tears shall be wiped from every eye, and parting shall be
known no more. My friend _I_ shall recognize above, and _you_ will clasp
your much-loved North again—
He’s gone! lost for awhile,
And number’d with the dead!
But there’s a day when I shall
Meet my friend. Meet him!
Oh, transporting thought! and
Together spend eternity itself.
Ah, cruel death! thus so early to separate twin souls. Why do I thus
talk! Our beloved friend has escaped the head ach, the heart ach, inbred
corruption, an ensnaring world, a tempting devil, wicked men, false
professors, abounding error, and weak-minded christians. What a
glorious, painful deliverance! blessed to him and distressing to us, more
particularly to you. I need say nothing about him—you best knew his
worth. I only lament my captivity, that I could not attend him in his
illness—that I could not see the finishing work of grace on his
heart—that I could not with him, and by him, bend the knee, and commend
him to his dear Saviour, who was waiting to receive his dear elect,
redeemed soul. Those who live on the sea coast have seen armies drawn
up, in order to receive some great personage; so, truly (could you and I
look beyond this lower world) we should have seen numbers of angels
waiting to conduct your dear partner to the land of eternal bliss. Yea,
more, the dear Saviour himself came for him—so he promises, I will come
again, and receive you to myself, that where I am there you may be also.
How very uncertain is life! Perhaps as I write this short epistle, this
hand may be checked, and mouth be dumb. O may we be found in some sweet
frame, or good work when death appears. May we never be attacked in an
ill-spent hour, but be wrapt in holy thoughts, and clothed with the
righteousness of God our dear Saviour—pardoned by his precious blood, and
on the wings of love, ready to take our flight.—Death is certainly very
terrific to us, but it is our Father’s porter, sent to unlock mortality,
to let out his prisoner to the full enjoyment of his inheritance.—I pray
God to grant we may both find Christ so precious to us, that we may truly
say with the apostle, For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain—that
is, Christ is gain to me, whether I live or die. Our main business is to
cultivate an intimacy with Christ. I remember when my heart was
overcharged with grief, that I was nearly distracted, there came to me a
soft, still voice, as it were, saying, “Acquaint thyself with God, and be
at peace with him.” This is the command, and God has promised that he
will give us an heart to know him; and has declared, “All thy children
shall be taught of God.” To know God in Christ is eternal life, and this
knowledge of him is knowing him in an experimental way, as a God
pardoning iniquity, transgression, and sin. This, only this, can subdue
the fears of death, and take away its sting.
I often think of the dying saying of a good man, when asked, as he was
near death, whether he feared death, “I cannot say” said he, “that I have
so lived as not to fear death, but I can say that I know Christ so, that
I am not afraid to die.” I trust the Lord will support you in your very
trying circumstances—that his hand will preserve you in your approaching
calamity, and give you a safe delivery—that almighty grace will save the
child, that parents and children may meet in glory. The Lord is well
known in Zion as an husband to the widow, and the father of the
fatherless, and he will be known by you in these lovely characters. I
had not an opportunity of dropping a tribute of respect for your dear
husband in the pulpit, I beg, however, the Lord will be with you, and
give you to enjoy all the grace contained in this sweet text—“For thy
maker is thy husband, the Lord of Hosts is his name.” To him be glory by
the Church. Amen.
Command me home, Oh God my King,
And bear me to the Skies,
Where Angels loud Hosannahs sing,
And drink celestial joys.
Your’s, truly,
_Ruhamah_.
LETTER XIV.
_Valley of Achor_, _February_ 20_th_, 1818.
Mr. & Mrs. P—N.
MY EVER DEAR FRIENDS IN THE BEST OF BONDS,
Grace and peace be your’s.—I trust I need not apologize for writing to
you from such a place, and under such circumstances. You will no doubt
join me in saying, I am just where the Lord had long devised I should be,
and where, I bless his dear name, he graciously condescends to pay me
many a visit, sometimes with a rod, and sometimes with a smile: and he
has promised both to us—he laid up the rod as well as the manna in the
ark, and it is only the sanctified rod, afflictions in Christ, that can
do us any lasting good. But I trust that in my personal experience, the
rod has budded in my convictions of what I have done amiss in many
things, for says an inspired apostle, “In many things we all offend.” I
hope the rod has also blossomed in my humility, and that the fruit will
be peace and righteousness; and as much preciseness in my whole conduct,
as if my salvation depended on it. I trust the long contention the Lord
has had with me, for these ten years past, is consummated. I cannot
bless God for distress of mind, but I can bless him for that grace that
melts the heart, and produces that secret sacred mourning, wonder,
gratitude, and peace. None but an all-seeing Jehovah can tell what I
have seen here; my grief has been great, my sighs have been many, my
heart has been broken, sin has appeared detestable, error damnable, man
truly depraved, God patient, long suffering and good. I have been deeply
distrest on account of my own sins, and the sins of others. O that this
work had been as deep on my soul some years ago, as it has been only some
few months past, but, alas, I lived too far off from
God—company—visits—bustle—noise—stir—clamour—and levity of manners, light
and trifling professors, and no power given me sufficient to keep me on
my guard. These stole my time, attention, and talents; the spirit’s
operations were not watched, the Saviour was slighted, and his dear
company shunned; established believers and deep taught favorites of the
most high were left, and I was in doubts what to do between conscience
and feelings, guided too much by the latter, and the former got hardened.
These and a thousand things more I deeply regret; these try my spirit
now, and though I have no doubt they are pardoned, for I have tasted,
felt, and handled that blessing also in this place, yet I cannot, will
not forgive myself, while I live in the body. What the Lord is doing
with me, has puzzled many, but he has not left me wholly in the dark
about it. As the great Head of the Church, he is washing the feet of his
disciples; digging and purging his garden, pruning his trees, awaking the
north wind, beating his spices, snuffing his candles, trimming his lamps,
trying his gold, refining his silver, purging the dross, removing the
rubbish, descending in a cloud, and stripping me of self-admiration,
which is rank idolatry—and all this is in covenant love. This is using
the fan, and the sieve, and I hope purging that away that can be well
spared; and I can assure my dear friends I am still praying over, and
watching the accomplishment of that sweet text in Zechariah, “I will
bring the third part _through_ the fire; I will try them as gold is
tried, and refine them as silver is refined: they shall call on my name.
I will say it is my people, and they shall say, the Lord is my God,
Selah.”
The Lord tries our faith, by stirring up every thing in opposition to us,
yet enabling us to believe thro’ all. He tries our love, by leading us
to see the awful errors that abound in the world, in opposition to the
most blessed Redeemer; and by sometimes hiding his face. He tries our
hope, by permitting Satan to assault us on every hand. He tries our
patience, by delays to answer our prayers, by the length of our
afflictions, and by their aboundings. Thus he tries us, and then he most
graciously gives us an opportunity of trying him. We try his love, and
find it the same every hour. We try his power, and find it supports and
cheers us. We try his word, and find it precious. We try his obedience,
death, and intercession, and find it brings a lasting peace to the soul.
We try his truth and faithfulness, and find that firm all the way to
heaven! We try his long suffering, by our daily provocations; and we try
his mercy, and find it kind. His grace, and find it sovereign, rich, and
free. Thus the Lord deals with us, and we with him.