affectionate concern, and fervent desires for my best interests, that you
can weep with those that weep, especially for the afflictions of Joseph.
_Amos_ 6th. This is a most blessed and decided evidence that the love of
God reigns in the heart; and though this principle is often hid from its
happy possessor, perhaps it is better seen by others; but if our love is
genuine, it bears a resemblance to the love of God, to his Son, and to
his children. Now as dear Mrs. Brown is often in bondage about her part
and lot in Christ, and as love is the most decided proof of that
interest, let us examine this subject. Hence the Saviour compares a
believer who is not clear about his interest in the favour of God, or has
seen it and lost it, to a Woman having ten pieces of silver, and having
lost one. Mind, it is a Woman, not a careless Man, who, if he had lost
any thing would give a general look and pass it by rather carelessly,
only perhaps saying, Well, I am very sorry I have lost it too—and here
the matter rests—but to a Woman assiduous, careful, attentive, and vext
with her loss. The nine pieces of silver refer no doubt to the graces of
the Holy Spirit, but the tenth to the knowledge of the reality and
enjoyment of them. Time was, perhaps you could say, you knew and
believed the love that God had for you, and no doubt but you had love in
return. But the scene has since changed, and you have had to combat with
enemies without, and worse within; and on account of their prevalency,
you have often been permitted to question the reality of all you
experienced before, while busy Satan has suggested, Where is your
religion now? Where is your love to Christ? Are you a Christian? Up
starts Unbelief, and says, I will never believe a person can be a
partaker of Christ, be in Christ, love Christ, or ever be one of
Christ’s, that can think as you think, say as you say, or do as you do.
No, no, says carnal Reason, why it stands to common sense, that a
converted person is a changed one altogether. Now Mrs. B. looks within,
thinks deep of it, while the dust these things have raised, blinds her
eyes, that she sees not her spiritual signs, but listens to those
suggestions, and rashly concludes against herself, that, perhaps, all her
past experience was but fancy. Under these fears we live too long.
_Ephraim_, says God, is an unwise Son, for he should not stay long in the
place of the breaking forth of children. But perhaps some sweet idea
occurs about Christ and his love, his work and his word; or some very
precious sermon, chapter, or hymn. This comes and revives the old work;
Satan withdraws, hope springs up, and a thirst for God is felt again.
Now we begin to stir, to light a candle, to sweep the house, and to
search diligently for the sense of God’s love, favor, and pardoning
mercy. Sweeping is self-examination, comparing spiritual things with
spiritual—that is, our judgement, experience, and views, with God’s word.
Lighting a candle is going to Christ, as the true light, enabling you to
see his glory, his beauty, his goodness. And this glory, goodness, and
beauty is called his loving kindness, “We have thought of thy loving
kindness in thy temple.” And this is what David prayed for, I have
desired of the Lord, that I may see the beauty of the Lord. “Thine eyes
shall see the king in his beauty.” And surely the Lord never appears so
beautiful to us, as when he appears, a God, pardoning our sins. Well may
we exclaim, And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us; I know you
can say Amen to this. Moses desired to see the glory of God, and the
Lord promised to cause his goodness to pass before him, and proclaimed,
forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin. Thus all his excellencies
are seen in this great act; and sure I am, that a sweet clear sight of
this blessing, is more worth than a thousand worlds. This will cause us
to shout victory in death and judgement. O may you not only hope, but
see this blessing; and not only see it, but enjoy it, for it is the joint
work of the adorable Trinity. The Father foresaw all our guilt, and
secretly purposed to pardon it. The dear Redeemer foresaw all that our
sins would merit, and engaged to bear it. And the divine, the blessed
Spirit, foresaw all our backslidings, yet engaged to enable us to
believe—we are pardoned and justified in the name and by the Spirit of
our God.
I wish you much of this blessing, in believing views of Christ. The Lord
has enlightened you to see Jesus as altogether lovely; your will has
chosen him, your heart is at rest when he is truly precious, and you can
say, he is supreme in your affections. Bless his dear name for it; his
love is set upon you, and Satan knows it, if you don’t, and he will
follow up the Lord’s work diligently, either to destroy it, or to set you
doubting its reality. But the principal part is love, and all our love
to Jesus is but a reflection of his love to us. He says, Yea, I have
loved thee; and we can reply, And Lord I desire to love thee most
supremely. God loves his dear Son, and so do we; he loves his truth, so
do we; he loves his saints, and so do we. He hates their sins, so do we;
he pities their infirmities, so do we; he forgives their follies, so do
we; he feels for them in trouble, so do we; he visits them in prison of
soul, or circumstances, so do we; he loves their company, prayers,
praises, converse, and prosperity of soul, so do we; he hates their
enemies, with all their cruelty and malice, so do we; he will one day
punish their enemies, unless grace prevent it, and we shall say Amen to
it.
Thus, in a very simple manner, have I shewed the reality of Bible love.
But I want to live such a life of faith on Jesus, as Paul did, when he
said, The life I live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of
God, as Jesus did, as man, on his divine Father. So we should live on
Jesus, as God-Man Mediator, on his eternal unchanging love; his covenant
engagements; his meritorious work of obedience; his putting away sin, by
his sufferings and death; his intercession at the Father’s right hand,
and his glorious office, as an advocate for us, ever pleading his blood,
with which God is well pleased. On him may we live, to him may we go,
_and him in every thing employ_. We are sinners, and need his grace,
guilty, and need his blood, condemned, and need his righteousness, weak,
and need his arm, miserable, and need his mercy, rebellious, and need his
long suffering. Thus we are poor and needy, and every promise in the
Bible made to such, is your’s. O that we could so resist Satan, when he
comes to dispute us out of these things, that we might take courage and
read them all as our own. Then we shall be rich indeed, for God is
faithful to his Son, in whom they are made; and to his people, to whom
they are revealed.
Your’s, truly,
_Ruhamah_.
LETTER XXIV.
_Valley of Achor_, _March_ 1st, 1819.
Miss MILLER,
MY DEAR FRIEND,
This day of the month never comes, but it ever brings a variety of very
affecting ideas to my mind, as it is supposed to be the day on which I
was found, when an helpless infant, deserted by parents, and left to
perish; but the Lord had some gracious intention in preserving me, till
called and brought forth to public view. Blessed by many, and by many
cursed. Yet the curse, causeless, has not, nor shall ever come. We have
had the pleasure of dining together for some years, as on this day, and I
trust we shall spend a blessed eternity together, when time, with us,
shall be no more. It is my mercy that, though I was left fatherless, and
motherless, I am not left Christless. But when father and mother forsook
me, the Lord took me up, and dealt better for me than my poor parents
could have done, perhaps, even in providence. On this subject I need not
enlarge, as I hope, while I am in Babylon, to write my own memoirs, and
publish it when I have an opportunity. But this depends on the display
of the gracious office of God, the Holy Spirit, to act as my
remembrancer. I am sorry I have been so negligent of the gracious
dealings of God with me, in providence and grace; and have not set up
those way marks, which I ought to have noticed, and which, no doubt,
would be a satisfaction to my own friends, the comfort of my own mind,
and for the glory of God. But, my dear friend, while my tongue is
partially silent many dear spiritual people want a small token of my
spiritual regard for them, by recommending the dear and adorable Saviour
to them. As the pen of cruel slander, and daring calumny, has been so
much employed against me, I want to employ my pen in writing of him, whom
angels admire and saints adore; and whose dear name, I trust, you love,
whose gospel you prize, and whose saints you esteem; and as a proof you
love him, only reflect, in some silent secret moment, suppose he was to
frown upon you in death, and disown you in the last great day. What an
horror, grief, and misery do you feel in the thought! What, to be for
ever banished from God!—from Jesus! O sad and dreadful idea; if the
thought indulged is Hell enough to you, ’tis a proof you love him. And
do you not feel, at times, a secret satisfaction, a sacred pleasure, when
you hear or receive any new sweet thought of Jesus?—’tis because you love
him. And should you not like to be favored with much communion with him,
to open your whole heart to him, and find his whole heart open to
you?—’tis because you love him. And if you hear a thing called a
preacher, and he appear empty of Jesus, do you not feel disgusted at
him?—’tis because you love him. When you hear his sacred name
blasphemed, or in any sense slighted, do you not feel hurt at it, and
pray that you may never be sent to Hell, among Devils, who will be for
ever cursing it; but long to get to glory, where you will join with
angels in always praising it?—’tis because you love him. If a person
stands very high in your estimation, whom you believe to be well taught
of Jesus, do you not feel an on common respect for him?—’tis because you
love him. If you are very cold, dead, dark, and barren in soul, in
secret and public, and feel as if you could not honor Jesus by bringing
forth fruit to his praise, is not this matter of much grief to you?—’tis
because you love him. When you feel for his people, his despised
ministers and cause, that is unjustly hated, and cruelly treated, ’tis
because you love him. Do you not feel glad when you hear of the sound
conversion of any one to Jesus, when they are able to give a scriptural
account of the Lord’s dealings with them?—’tis because you love him. Do
you not feel grateful to the Saviour, when you are favored with an
affecting sight of him, as dying for you, rising for you, and living for
you?—’tis because you love him. Do you not feel thankful at times, that
the good work was ever begun in your heart, and that you have any love to
him—surely ’tis because you love him. When you reflect upon his kindness
to you in providence, with a keen sense of your utter unkindness, do you
feel, or desire to feel grateful?—’tis because you love him. Do you
desire, above all things else beside, to live to him, feel peace with
him, and at last, to be with him for ever; to adore and thank him; to
crown him Lord of all, with all the blood-bought throng?—’tis because you
love him. And we love him, because he first loved us—
His people’s everlasting friend,
He loving, loves us to the end.
Your’s, in him,
_Ruhamah_.
LETTER XXV.
_Valley of Achor_, _Jan._ 26_th_, 1819.
Mr. J. CLARK.
MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,
I thank you for your letter. I am always glad to hear how my dear
friends go on in the divine life; and if they are not increasing sensibly
in faith, hope, and love, yet, if growing downward in humility it is
still well. What we are in our fallen state, as sinners, must be learned
by us—this is all the hell we shall ever experience in this world, and
some have found _that_ to be quite hell enough. Under this painful
chastening, Jonah cried out of the belly of hell.—The Psalmist declared
God had laid him in the lowest deeps. Jeremiah wished he had never been
born—and Job cursed his day!—and all their painful agonies of soul was
nothing to be compared to the painful soul-distress which the Lord Jesus
felt, when he entered the garden of Gethsemane, and his vast mind was
filled with horrors, terrors, and frights—the guilt of sin sunk his
spirits, the wrath of God melted his heart—and his agonies were
inconceivable.—Oh! what did our Christ endure for some hours, yea, from
nine o’clock at night till three the next afternoon: it will never be
forgotten by him—his whole mind was taken up with it; every thing else
was forgotten.—Sin and wrath, guilt and distress followed on him—wave
upon wave, till he expired. And the very posture in which he hung as he
died was very important. See his dear arms stretched out to receive you
and me. See his dear feet waiting, fastened to the cross, to confer his
blessing. See his side wide opened, to shew his heart to us—and see him
bow his dear dying head, to kiss the poor returning soul, who is waiting
at the foot of the cross till Jesus assures the soul of its interest in
him. Here, I hope, my much esteemed friend is waiting. Here he is safe.
But you complain of sin—the Old man. And what is this old man?—it is _a
continual inclination to sin_. Can the brightest saint alter this?—alas,
No: And are you not astonished that such poor sinful beings as we are,
that we should ever be proud of our rags? Proud, in the sight of
God!—such is our depravity. And it is from this same source you feel so
much deadness in divine things, so much darkness in soul, and such
carelessness and wanderings in your best moments; these all spring from
the heart, which we find to be bad indeed. I once knew a little of it,
and often preached about it, but my views of it are much deeper now—I
both see and feel, groan under and hate, what I cannot get rid of. O
could I but get rid of what I feel, how happy should I be. There is but
one remedy left, and that is a more blessed acquaintance with the dear
Saviour, and the enjoyment of high and heavenly communion with him. To
this blessing I humbly aspire. This fevor I am praying daily for—_this_,
and _this_ only, is the cure of all our spiritual diseases. This will
make me happy in captivity, and contented with the will of God. But,
alas, I am very rebellious! What a mercy when we can see that every
trial, cross, loss, disappointment, pain, and difficulty is in covenant
love, flowing to us, because God has loved us; and to conform us to his
lovely image, we want the mind kept by an almighty power—still, resigned,
quiet, and composed, as a hand ought to be steady, that holds a glass of
some very costly liquid. We want keeping quiet, while God takes the
opportunity of pouring into the soul the precious consolations; and helps
us to believe that whatever happens, is certainly right, and will be for
the best. I have heard of a man, that whatever he met with, he said it
was for the best. One day, a dog stole his dinner, and his ungodly
companions asked him, if that was for the best? They all being at work
in the quarry, the man said, he would just run and see if the dog had eat
all his dinner; and while he was gone out, the pit fell in, and killed
all his companions. Thus it was for the best that the dog should steal
his dinner.
I find there is nothing like prayer, reflection, and gratitude; but I am
exactly like yourself; I am distressed with those opposite sinful
propensities, which it is impossible to avoid; these intercept my peace,
perplex my soul, grieve my spirit, becloud my evidences, and often steal
my heart from God, till the Saviour shines again, and then I am renewed,
refreshed, and strengthened again. May your spirit often thus experience
the very gracious operations of the Holy Spirit, causing you to know,
trust, and love the person of Jesus, as your covenant head, alone
Saviour, all-sufficient righteousness and atoning sacrifice, ever-living
intercessor and wonderful counsellor. May he be more precious to your
heart, and dearer to your soul, in life and death; and may the same grace
rest on your dear partner in life, and family, is the earnest prayer, and
hearty wish, of your ever sincere and grateful
_Ruhamah_.
LETTER XXVI.
_Valley of Achor_, _Sept._ 5th, 1818.
Mrs. DUDLEY.
MY DEAR TRIED FRIEND,
The Lord accepts the will for the deed, from his dear people. You: would
do me much good, if it lay in your power; but the Lord has enabled you to
say, To will, is present with me; and the Apostle says, If there was a
willing mind, it is accepted. David wanted to build an house for the
Lord, but he had not liberty; yet the dear Saviour sent him word, it was
well it was in his heart. The will was accepted.—Pious Mary had once
anointed her Saviour, and she intended to do it again at his burial; but
fearing she might not have the honor to embalm him, she came before hand,
and anointed him to his burial. The Saviour accepted the will for the
deed, and declared, wherever the Gospel was preached, this kind act
should be noticed. So we find in our experience. We would love
God—without a rival. We would know him as he is in Christ; perfectly; we
would enjoy him uninterruptedly; we would hold perpetual communion with
him; we would serve him, day and night; we would never dishonour him,
grieve him, offend him, or slight him; we would never sin against him any
more. But O, we cannot attain to this; how to perform _that_ which is
good, we find we cannot. So we would comfort the saints, relieve the
afflicted, cheer the disconsolate, plead for the truth, and support the
cause of God. Bring into the way of truth all our dear friends; and if
it was agreeable to the decrees of God, we would bring in all to the
knowledge of the truth—however dark you may feel, however miserable you
may seem, I hope the Lord will over-rule that, to bring you out of
yourself, daily to die to self, daily to be looking to Jesus, and being
satisfied that he is your eternal all, that he has taken away all your
guilt, that he has bore all your sins, that he has obeyed for you, that
he is your intercessor before the throne, that he lives to plead your
cause, manage all your concerns, turn every apparent evil into good, will
never leave you until he has done all the good he his promised unto you.
I am a little acquainted with your trials; much as I am tried myself, I
would not exchange troubles with you. I thank you for your kind wish,
that I may be favored with the divine presence, this is the general
prayer of the Lord’s people, for me, and I am much honored with it. What
shall I render to the Lord. I hope he is leading me to the knowledge of
Christ, it is eternal life to know him; and God has promised us an heart
to know him, so as to live upon him, make use of him, and give him all
the glory. As this is so capital a blessing, so I must remind you that
this is the work of the Holy Ghost, in the heart; and his sacred
indwelling, is the presence of God. Let thy Presence go with me, prayed
Moses. This was typified by the Cloudy Pillar, which abode upon,
encompassed round, and led, protected, and cheered the Israelites, for
forty years; and although they often rebelled, fretted, complained, and
sinned against God, yet he bore with their manners, changed his conduct,
tried them, and permitted them to be beset by enemies, yet he did not
take away the cloudy pillar. You know how to apply this subject. I
bless God the work is going on in your soul, and if the following things
I see in you, and gather from your kind letter, are evidences of the work
of God, my dear friend is in possession of it. A being quickened to see
the misery of a fallen nature. Humbling views of your own nothingness.
An earnest desire for communion with Christ, in his own ordinances. A
patient, yet longing, waiting for pardoning love to be manifested to the
soul, with power. A daily cross, felt from nature, sin, Satan, and the
world. A grief of heart, that you cannot serve the Lord as you desire.
Sympathy with the tried people of God. Gratitude for past experiences,
of the power of God on the soul. A coming out of self daily, and leaning
upon Jesus, the best beloved. This is the path—go on dear Friend—
Wrestle until your God be known,
’Till you can call the Lord your own.
Your’s, in him,
_Ruhamah_.
LETTER XXVII.
_Valley of Achor_, _Nov._ 18th, 1818.
Mr. & Mrs. TUNGATE.
MY DEAR FRIENDS,
I trust the God of all grace is carrying on his own work in both your
souls. This may be doubted by you in your darkest seasons, but when you
feel the word with power, when you get access to God, when you feel joy
and peace in believing, when you feel Christ very precious to your soul,
_then_ you are at a point about it. None can persuade you out of your
feelings, nor dispute you out of your esteem for, and love to Christ, his
truths, his people, or his word. Your spiritual birth is clear, your
title to heaven is plain, you have then a sensible witness in yourself,
that you are born of God, and that you know God. You have had such
seasons: this is tasting the new wine of the kingdom, this is finding the
Pearl of great Price, this is the new heart of flesh, this is the right
spirit, this is coming into the banqueting house, this is being fed with
honey out of the rock, this is enjoying the fatted calf; the ring of
eternal love, the wedding garment, and the shoes of the gospel of peace.
This is finding the piece of silver, and proving wisdom’s ways
pleasantness, and her paths peace. This is walking in the light of God’s
countenance, and receiving the end of our faith—the present salvation of
the soul. I have had a few such times as these since I have been here,
but these have not lasted long; I wish they had so overpowered me, that
they had broke up old nature, and ushered me into the full enjoyment of
God. But the sun is gone down, night is come on again, the beasts of the
forest creep forth, the Devil takes every advantage, and the world seems
to frown, yet every thing urges the necessity of walking by faith, of
making use of Christ as the Almighty physician, the healer of breaches,
and the restorer of wanderers. This is the name that is very precious to
us, I am the Lord that healeth thee; and every gracious look from him,
melts us, renews us, revives us, and conquers the heart. This was the
look that melted Peter. A great traveller and writer says he saw some
rocks abroad, which dropped water when the sun shone on them. This was
true, indeed, of Peter, whose name signifies a rock, or a stone; and it
is equally true of us, who are called stones. I ever wish to be under
the soul melting influence of the Holy Spirit. Oh, that he would so
blessedly overcome our hearts with his love, in great power. This is
what I am praying to feel very often, yet, it is the will of our divine
Lord, to exercise our minds sharply with sore trials; and, the very worst
of all trials, is a being daily burdened with sin, working within, and,
like prisoners, either entreating for liberty, or trying to get out.
These often hide the Saviour from us, and make it winter in the soul;
faith is weak, hope is low, love is cold, and patience is gone sick to
bed; yet the Lord is at hand, he is very near, although we see him not,
nor feel him. Jacob said, The Lord is in this place, and I knew it not.
Philosophers say, The sun is nearer to us in winter than in summer; this
does not appear true, but it has been, and is very easily proved. So
Christ, the Son of righteousness, is nearer to us in our winter graces of
faith and patience, than in our summer graces of joy, hope, peace, and
love. He makes his way to us, when we cannot find the way to him, he
seeks us, when we cannot seek him, he can find us, and he holds us, when
we cannot find him, or claim him as our’s. That precious text, 13th
Zechariah, and last verse, is often precious to me in this furnace; the
God of truth promises, first, I will bring you through; second, They
shall call on my name; third, I will try them; fourth, I will say they
are mine; fifth, and they shall say the Lord is mine. What a feast does
this text afford me in those days of my calamity; some parts have been
fulfilled in my experience, the other part will ere long: and as soon as
the deliverance comes, we must look out for some other trials.
The Christian’s seldom long at ease,
One Trial gone, another doth him seize.
This is the way; but as loved, redeemed, called, pardoned by precious
blood, and justified by imputed righteousness, we shall get safe home, to
celebrate eternal mercy, as displayed by a triune God in our salvation.
I long for the time to meet you both again, at the table of the Lord. I
trust Christ will be more dear to us than ever, that we shall be dying
daily, and living in, and by, and with Christ.
Your’s, truly,
_Ruhamah_.
LETTER XXVIII.
_Achor’s Vale_, _January_ 26_th_, 1819.
Mr. FARMER.
MY MUCH ESTEEMED FRIEND,