"It is always pulling down error--seldom building
up truth. Surely Antichrist comes to oppose Christ,
not Christ to oppose Antichrist. Is there, then, no
positive Christian duty? Are we never to rest in
principles and practices of actual faith and love? or
are we to be always on the offensive and negative
side, stigmatizing all who act contrary to our belief
of the truth as doers of the work of Antichrist?
Antichrist, I fear, cares little for orthodox doctrines,
but fights against the Christian spirit."
_9th Mo. 13th_. Conflicting thoughts again. I
long that there may be no building on any sandy
foundation. But oh, the fitness that appeared to me
this evening in the blessed Saviour to supply all my
need. The one sacrifice He has been, and the one
mediator and way to God He ever is,--His own
spirit the one leader, teacher, and sanctifier; whereby
He consummates in the heart the blessed work of
bringing all into subjection to the obedience of
Christ. Oh for a personal experience, a real participation
in all this, a knowledge that _He is my own
and that I am His_.
_16th_. Somewhat puzzled at myself. This has
not been a spiritually prosperous day--passed just to
my taste, much in reading, but not much, I fear, with
the Lord. Yet I have had very loving thoughts of
Christ this evening, and was ready to call Him _my
own dear Saviour_, though I trust on no other terms
than His terms, namely, that I should be wholly His.
Some misgivings are come up that I am tempted to
think Him mine when I am not in a state to be His;
some fears lest Satan has put on the winning smiles
of an angel of light; and yet where can I go but to
Thee, Saviour of sinners? Thou hast the words of
life and salvation; suffer me not to be deluded, but at
all hazards let me be Thine.
Thou who breakest not the bruised reed, oh, bring
forth in me judgment unto truth, and let me wait for
the _law of life and peace from Thee_.
_9th Mo. 18th_. Rode to Lodge to get ferns. Enjoyed
thoughts of the beauty of nature, imperfect
as it is, because one kind of beauty necessarily
excludes another. What, then, must be the essence
of that glory in which all perfection is beauty
united? Thus these things must be described to
mortal comprehension under contradictory images;
such as "pure gold, like unto transparent glass," &c.
_9th Mo. 19th_. I think harm is done by considering
a society such as "Friends," "a section of the
Christian Church," as societies are so often called.
It can be true only by considering the "Christian
Church" to mean _professing Christians_; but surely
its true meaning is the _children of God anywhere_.
Of this body, there are no _sections_ to be made by
man, or it would follow that to unite oneself to
either section, is to be united to the body, which
cannot be.
_10th Mo. 1st_. I fear I have so long been _childish_
and _thoughtless_, that I shall hardly ever be _childlike_
and _thoughtful_. Oh for a little more _care_ without
_carefulness!_
_10th Mo. 2d_. Much struck with Krummacher's
doctrine of "Once in grace, always in grace."
"After the covenant is made," he says, "I can do
nothing _condemnable_. I may do what is sinful or
weak, but my sins are all laid on my Surety." _True,_
if my will-spirit humbles itself to bear the reforming
judgment of the Lord--but I think his doctrine
utterly dangerous; his error is this, that "the
covenant cannot be broken." Now, suppose a
Christian, therefore, in the covenant; he sins, then
the Lord would put away his sin by cleansing him
from its pollution and power, by the blood of Christ,
who hath already borne the punishment thereof.
But he may refuse this cleansing, in other words,
this judgment, revealed within; not against _himself_,
as it must have been except for Christ's intercession,
but against the evil nature in him, and in love to
his soul. He may refuse this, because it cannot
but be painful, it cannot but include repentance for
his transgression, whereby he has admitted ground
to the enemy. And if he refuse it, persisting in
withdrawing his heart from that surrender, which
must have been made on his adoption into the covenant,
who shall say that the covenant is not at an
end? Who shall say that the way of the Lord is
not equal, in that, because he was once a righteous
man, made righteous by the righteousness of Christ,
"now, the righteousness that he hath had shall not
be mentioned unto him, but in his trespass he shall
die"? Far be it from me to say how long the Lord
shall bear with man; how long he may trespass ere
he dies forever; but I think it most presumptuous
to suppose that God _cannot in honor_ (for it does
come to this) disannul the covenant from which man
has already retracted all his share; though this,
truly, is but a passive one, a surrender of the will-spirit
to the faith of Jesus.
What good it does me to clear up my ideas on
prayer! but there is a limit beyond which intellect
cannot go. No one can fully explain the admission
of evil into the heart. We say "it is because I
listen to temptation;" but why do I listen, to temptation?
Because I did not watch unto prayer. The
Calvinist would say, perhaps, "Because I am without
the covenant;" but he allows that a person may sin
who is in it. Suppose I am one of these? The
origin of evil must ever be hidden, but not of evil
only; the _moral nature of man must ever be a mystery
to his intellectual nature, for it is above it._
There is a _natural testimony_ to the supremacy of the
_moral_ in man above the intellectual.
_10th Mo. 8th_. The charm of book and pen has
been beguiling me of my reward; but now my soul
craves to be offered a living sacrifice.
_10th Mo. 19th_. The world was fearfully my snare
yesterday,--I mean worldly objects, innocent, in
themselves. These things only show the depth of
unrenewed nature within. Though it slumbered, it
could not be dead. My "wilderness wanderings,"
oh, I fear they must be exceedingly protracted ere
the hosts that have come out of Egypt with me fall;
ere I can find _in myself_ that blessed possession of the
promised inheritance, which, I believe, _in this life_ is
the portion of the _thorough_ Christian: "they that
believe _do_ enter into rest." Why, then, do not I?
Oh, it is for want of believing; for want of faith; I
fear to trust the Lord to give me my inheritance and
conquer my foes, and will not "go up and possess
the land." Then, again, in self-confidence, I _will_ go
up, whether the Lord be with me or not; and so I
fall. But surely, surely it _need_ be so no longer. I
_might_ devote myself to Christ, and He would lead me
safely through all. The shining of the fire and the
shading of the cloud are yet in the ordering of the
Captain of Salvation.
_20th_. Exceeding poor; and yet I rejoice in what
I trust is somewhat of the poverty of spirit which is
blessed.
"Nothing in my hand I bring;
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
To the cleansing fount I fly:
Wash me, Saviour, or I die."
_21st_. I feel myself in much danger of falling,--manifold
temptations all round to love the world, and
how little _stay_ within!
_22d._ Yet the Lord was kind, most kind, to me in
the evening, constraining me to say within my heart,
"Surely I am united to Christ my Saviour." Oh,
the joy of feeling that we are in any measure _His!_
May I by no means withdraw myself from His
hands, that He may do for me all that His mercy
designs, and which I am well assured is but _begun._
This morning a crumb of bread was given me, in the
shape of a sense that Christ is yet mine, but that He
will be _waited on_ in simplicity of heart to do His _own
work._ Oh, the comfort of having a fountain to flee
to _set open_ for sin! hourly have I need of it.
_11th Mo. 2d_. I have felt deeply the necessity of
the thorough subjugation of the _will_ to the Divine
will: if it were effected, all must work for good to
me. Little cross-occurrences, instead of exciting
ill tempers, would serve as occasions for strengthening
my faith in God. When He giveth quietness,
what should make trouble? 'Tis wonderful to think
what long-suffering kindness the Lord has shown
me! I can compare myself only to the prodigal
son saying, "Give me my portion of goods"--goods
spiritual; as if I thought once furnished, never
again to have recourse to a father's compassion. Oh,
often have I wasted this substance in a very short
time; but the Lord has reckoned better than I
in my self-confidence. He saw how I should have to
come back utterly destitute, and again and again has
had mercy. Oh that I might no more ask for a portion
to carry away, but seek to dwell among the servants
and the children of His house, to be fed
hourly by Him, learning in what sense He does say
to those who are willing to have nothing of their
own, "All that I have is thine."
_12th Mo. 6th_. Nice journey to Falmouth. Here
we have been since Second-day learning our own
manifold deficiencies; but this, under a genial atmosphere,
is, to me, never disheartening,--always an
exciting, encouraging lesson. ----'s kind words
on intellectual presence of mind, and his animating
example of it, have determined me to make a vigorous
effort over my own sloth and inanity. I believe
the first thing is to be always conscious of what I am
thinking of, and never to let my mind run at loose
ends in senseless reveries.
_12th Mo. 25th_. Seventh-day. I trust, now we
are all together for the winter, there will be an effort
on my part to help to keep up a higher tone of feeling,
aim, and conversation: not mere gossip, but
really to speak to each other for some good purpose,
is what I do wish. What an engine, for good or
evil, we neglect and almost despise! and if it is not
employed properly, when at home, how can it be
naturally and intelligently exercised when abroad?
_Fourth-day, 31st_. Called on a poor sick man,--he
quietly waiting, I hope, for a participation in perfect
peace, and penetrated with the sense that man can do
nothing of himself. Surely this must be a step towards
knowing what God can do. I hope he will be
able to see and say something more yet; but I would
not ask him for any sort of confession. It is a fearful
thing to interfere with one who seems evidently
in hands Divine.
Thus ended 1845. Oh that it had been better
used, more valued, more improved in naturals, intellectuals,
and spirituals! Oh that I had cultivated
kindness and dutiful affection in the meekness of
wisdom; and as an impetus seems to have been lately
received to industry in study, etc., oh, may God
give me grace to spend another year, so far as I
live through it, in industrious Christianity too!
_1st Mo. 7th_, 1846. I should gratefully acknowledge
the loving-kindness and tender mercy which,
after all my wanderings, has again been shown: "I
will prepare their heart, I will cause their ear to hear,"
was sweet to me this morning. Though sometimes
lamenting that I hear so little of the voice of pardon
and peace, I have felt this morning that I have ever
heard as much as was safe for me in the degree of
preparation yet known.
_1st Mo. 19th_. Some earnest desires last evening,
this morning, and in the night, to be set right in
spirit. Struck with the text, "His countenance doth
behold the upright,"--not that the upright always
behold His countenance: that is not the thing their
safety consists in. "Thou most upright dost weigh
the path of the just," that is, of the truly sincere
and devoted. Ah! how blessed that such an unerring
balance should apportion the way of a finite and
blind being!
_3d Mo. 2d_. Little E.P. died last week, aged three
years,--a child whom God had taught. I ventured a
little poem for his mamma, I think without harm.
The poetry-contest, some time since, was doubtless
useful as a check, but I seem to have lost the prohibition,
and enjoy, I hope, innocently.
_Sixth-day_. School, more encouraged than sometimes:
got on well with geography-class; visited
various poor people,--feeling very useless, but some
satisfaction. Oh, it were a sweet thing to do good
from the right motive, as a _natural_ effect of love.
I fear I do my poor share more to satisfy conscientiousness;
and that is a dull thing.
_3d Mo. 17th_. Faith small, world strong; but this
evening something like grasping after "the childly
life beyond." A childly life I want. Oh for simplicity,
faith, quietness, self-renunciation!
Yesterday rode alone to Wheal, Sister's mine. Gave
W.B. tracts for the girls. Thence to Captain N.,
to get his daughters to collect for Bibles. His nice
wife seemed interested; said it was very needful.
Many families had not a Bible there; the place a
century behind the West. Rode home dripping, but
glad that I had not been turned back. Learned part
of the 42d Psalm in German.
_3d Mo. 27th_. What testimony of gratitude can I
record to that tender mercy which has drawn near to
me this evening? Oh that the "Anon with joy"
reception may not be united with the "no root in
myself"! I have thought of the Israelitish wanderings,
caused by faithless folly in refusing to "go up
and possess the land." Oh, that lack of living appropriating
faith may not thus protract the period
ere my own passage through the spiritual Jordan, the
river of self-renunciation, and death of the "old
man," into the Beulah of a thorough introduction to
the sheepfold! It is easy to say that it would be too
presumptuous to venture on the final, full, childlike
appropriation of Christ; but, oh, presumption, I do
deeply feel, is more concerned in the delay. It is
presumptuous to put off, till brighter evidences and
clearer offers of mercy, the acceptance of grace to-day.
_4th Mo. 14th._ The Lord has been kind to me
beyond expression. Not rapturous feeling, but calm
and peaceful confidence,--though sometimes almost
giving way to "the world, the flesh, and the devil,"
sometimes letting go faith; but, oh, He has been near
through all; then when His face has shone upon me,
how have I wondered that ever I loved the earth,
more than Himself!
_5th Mo. 3d. Bristol._ On the way to the Yearly
Meeting. _First-day._ Most interesting meeting. I
think the connection of evangelical doctrine with
Christian worship is often not enough considered.
The mere natural unsanctified dread or awe of the
Lord's presence is very different from that worship
of God which is through Christ our Lord, who has
made a way of access for us to the Father, who Himself
loveth us. If this be overlooked, there is little
essential distinction between Christian worship, and
Oriental gnosticism--the delusion of raising the soul
above the natural, by abstraction and contemplation
of the Divine. This is the distinguishing glory of
the gospel, that whereas the children of Israel said
to Moses, "Speak thou to us, but let not God speak
to us, lest we die," Christ, his antitype, hath broken
down for his people "the middle wall of partition,"
hath abolished the enmity, and speaketh to us Himself
as God, and yet as once in our flesh.
_5th Mo. 10th_. Letter from father, from _Niagara_.
Awful spectacle, and most edifying emblem of His
unchanging word of power whose voice is as the
sound of many waters.
This evening had a nice meeting; my soul longed
for light and life in the assembly.
Of our dear father's safe arrival in Liverpool we
heard on our way to the train in the morning, and
now we settled in to expect him we had so long lost!
And, after meeting him in London and alluding to conversation with
friends who called to see him, she says,--
"But with father the fact of presence, real
meeting, actual talk, seemed more engrossing than
the thing talked. Oh that I had a really grateful
heart to the Lord for these His mercies!"
_7th_. [Alluding to a meeting at Devonshire House.]
It is, indeed, "looking not at the things which are
seen," when we really accept with equal, nay, with
greater, joy, His will to speak by the little as by the
great, or by His Spirit only, when communion of
truth is preferred to communication of the true.
_5th Mo. 29th_. And now that my London experience
is over, as to meetings, preachings, prayers,
what, oh, what is the result on this immortal spirit
of mine, which has on this occasion been brought,
as it were, in _contact_ with some of the honorable
and anointed messengers, with that which is good?
And yet it is possible that contact may not produce
_penetration_, and that _penetration_ may not produce
_assimilation_. I can unhesitatingly say, the first and
second have been produced; but then these are but
transactions of the time, not abiding transformations;
and if these are all? But, surely, it cannot be;
surely, when my heart melted within me, especially
on Second-day morning, and I heard the word "and
anon with joy received it," some depth of central
stone was fused into softness; some actual change,
effected, that I might not have altogether "no root"
in myself. Sometimes predominated a fear that intellectual
interest interfered with spiritual simple
reception of good, that _this_ would vanish when _that_
was over; sometimes the responsibility of being thus
ministered to was truly a weighty thought; for never
more than on that morning did I so understand, "Go
preach, baptizing." Sometimes I thought that God
had indeed brought me to this Yearly Meeting to
make me then and there his own; and when I heard
of passing by transgressions as a cloud, I was ready
to think my own were indeed dissolving as one. I
felt strongly the superiority of religion to every
other thing, not merely for its external aim, God,
but for its internal power on self, how these masterpieces
of the human creation were not only made the
most of by religion, but that _it_ alone can make any
thing of the _whole man_. How strongly do we feel,
when with a clever, talented, irreligious man, that he
has a latent class of moral powers which have not
been called into action, that on this point he may be
inferior to the veriest child; but God, who has made
man for himself, has made in every man a royal
chamber, for himself spiritually to dwell in; and if
this be not reappropriated to him, (which is religion,)
his capacity for the Divine is not exercised, and he
is not only not made the most of, but his best nature
is not even made use of. What a privilege to have
intercourse with those in whom the very reverse is
the case! What a stimulus to the little mind, to
become not equal to the great, but proportionally
Christianized--_i.e._ equally devoted! and this is
Christian perfection; not to have arrived at the
highest attainment of intercourse with God ever
granted to man, but to have the will thoroughly willing
God's will. This is, indeed, better far than a
mere knowledge of what that will is. But in some
whom I have seen, there is a beautiful union of a
high degree of this knowing and willing; and these
are they to whom it is given to edify the Church.
* * * How shall I enough praise and thank the
Lord, who has so condescended to my weak and
sinful condition, that though my head perhaps knew
all before, and my heart was disobedient, He has so
brought me under the mighty ministry of His Word
of life, that for a while _all_ seemed melted and subjected,
and my heart longed to accept Him and his
reconciliation to me on the blessed terms, _not_ the
harsh terms, but the privileged terms, of my being
reconciled to Him. Oh, what an error to think any
thing harsh or hard in the requirements of the gospel!
It is a mercy beyond man's conception, that we
are commanded, "Be ye holy, for I am holy."
_6th Mo. 12th_. Yesterday my twenty-third birthday.
In the evening a song of praise seemed to fill
my heart for the vast mercy shown me of late. God,
who is rich in mercy for His great love wherewith He
loved me when I was dead in sins, has truly begun
to quicken my heart.
_6th Mo. 12th_. Had a note from ---- of kind
spiritual interest; but I think she mistakes my want,
which is more of practical than of theoretical faith.
Have ventured to tell her, in a note, what I feel and
have felt. I think many who have left Friends, and
become more decidedly serious since, remembering
that when Friends, the gospel was not precious to
them, fancy it is undervalued by the Society. My
note is as follows:--
My dear --- will, I hope, believe that I was not disposed
to receive her affectionate lines in any other than
that spirit of love in which they were written, and in
which, I am persuaded, it is the will of our blessed
Saviour for His disciples "that they all may be one."
Yes, my dear ----, I believe there is not a sentence in
thine in which I do not heartily join; and while we are
both seeking to believe, as thou says, "with the heart"
in Christ our Saviour, "in whom we have redemption,
through His blood, even the forgiveness of sins," let us
say not only, "Here is a point on which we can unite,"
but here is the one bond of fellowship, which unites the
whole ransomed Church, throughout the world, and
especially those who love each other, as I trust we do.
If we were more willing to let Christ be our all in all,
surely we should more realize this blessed truth. Disputations
on theoretical differences seem to me like disputes
on the principles of a fire-escape among those
whose sole rescue depends on at once committing themselves
to it, since the most perfect understanding of its
principles is utterly in vain if they continue mere
_lookers-on;_ while others, with perhaps far less _head-_knowledge,
are safely landed. This, it seems to me, is
the distinction between head-knowledge and heart-knowledge,
between dead creed and living faith; and every
day, I think, more convinces me that it is "with the
_heart_ that man believeth unto righteousness." As thou
hast so kindly spoken of myself, and thy kind interest
for me, may I add that what I have known, small though
it be, of this faith, has been all of grace; nor do I hope
or wish but that it may be, from first to last, of grace
alone. If I love Christ, it is because He first loved me:
because God, who is rich in mercy, has shown me the
great love wherewith He loved me, when I was dead in
sins; nor should I have had one glimpse "of the knowledge
of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ,"
had not God, who "commanded the light to shine out of
darkness," shined into my heart. And dark and sad
has ever been the view of myself bestowed by that grace
which brings salvation, long shining as it were to make
my darkness visible; but this do I esteem one of His rich
mercies, who will have no rival in His children's hearts,
and teaches us our own utter depravity and sinfulness;
that we may, without any reserve, fly to Him, "who has
borne our sins in His own body on the tree, that we might
be saved from wrath through Him." And if it is of
grace, that while we were yet sinners, "we were reconciled
to God by the death of His Son," it is by grace also,
that "being reconciled, we shall be saved by His life."
It is "not by works of righteousness which we have
done, but according to His mercy He saveth us, by the
washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy
Ghost." And here I find abundant need to take heed
that I "receive not the grace of God in vain;" for truly
Christ cannot be ours, if we will not be his. But though
I have to lament many a revolt, and many a backsliding,
and many a denial in heart of Christ my Saviour, yet
the Lord, who turned and looked on Peter, has not forsaken
me; the fountain set open for sin has been, I
believe, set open for me; and still does He continue to
"heal my backslidings, and to love me _freely_." For
the future I have sometimes many a fear, because of
this deceitful heart of mine; and at others I can trust
it in His hands, whose grace will be sufficient for me to
the end,--that end, when I may realize, what I now
assuredly believe, that the "_gift_ of God is eternal life
through Jesus Christ our Lord." And now, my dear
----, are we not one, essentially one, both one in Christ?
I know that, uniting in the acknowledgment, and, above
all, I trust, in the experience, of the great truths of the
gospel, we differ in their applications and influences on
subordinate points, and I believe this must be expected
to be often the case while "we see through a glass
darkly;" but we shall, I trust, "see eye to eye, when
the Lord shall bring again Zion;" and He will keep that
which we have committed unto Him against that day.
The Lord's "commandment is _exceeding broad_," and it
is no wonder that our narrow minds cannot adequately
appreciate the whole, or that, while we believe the same
things, we sometimes view them in different order and
proportion, often being nearer each other than we are
aware. I fear much good is not done by discussing differences;
at least, _I_ find it calls up feelings which are
not good, and I lose more practically than I get or give
theoretically. May the Lord bless us both in our pilgrimage,
and guide us in a plain path to a city of final
habitation, where we shall not want sun, or moon, or any
other thing than the glory of God and the Lamb, to be
our everlasting light.
I could not be satisfied without replying to thy kind
remarks and inquiries about myself and my hopes; but
now, having said so much, I hope thou wilt not think it
strange that I cannot _argue_ on things about which we
differ. I have not adopted opinions without reflection,
and it has fully satisfied myself; but I have nothing to
spend in controversy, which I always find does me a
great deal of harm. I hope we now know enough of
each other to rejoice in each other's joy.
_6th Mo. 16th_. Last evening alone in the plantation.
Sought the Lord. It was beautiful. Was not
nature meant by Him to work in concert with His
spirit on our hearts? Or is the calming and soothing
power a thing confined to sense and sensibility? I
suppose the latter, but that religion appropriates these
as well as all other faculties and parts of man's nature,
and, where he would have praised nature, bids him
praise God, his own God in Christ.
_6th Mo. 18th_. I have thought this summer a time
of critical importance for my soul, for eternity. I
have felt, and sometimes spoken, strongly, but always,
I believe, honestly, unless I have imposed upon myself.
Thought I had accepted Christ. I thought He
was my salvation and my all. "Yet once more" will
the Lord shake not my earthly heart, but also my
heaven, my hopes, my expectations, in Him. Will
He convict me still of holding the truth in unrighteousness?
How else can I explain to myself the
pride which revolts from censure, the touchy disposition,
the self-justifying spirit, the jealousy of my reputation,
the anxiety to keep up my character? How
else can I explain the inaptitude for the divine, the
unwillingness to have the veil quite lifted from my
heart, to display it even to my own eyes? Ah! is it
not that there is still a double mind and instability in
all my ways, still a want of that simplicity of faith,
that humility, and poverty, and meekness of spirit,
that can accept the gospel, still the self-righteousness
(worse than "I am of Paul") which assumes to itself
"_I_ of Christ"? Ah! if I may yet lift my eyes
through Him who hath borne even the iniquity of
our holy things, keep me, O Lord, from a wider
wandering, till Thou bring me fully into the fold,
the "little flock," to whom it is Thy good pleasure to
give thy kingdom.
_7th Mo. 5th_. * * * It is useless to conceal from
myself that I have felt grieved at some, whom we
might suppose grounded in the faith long since, appearing
to keep the expression of sole reliance on the
mercy of God in Jesus Christ, as a sort of death-bed
confession. I know full well that religion must be an
actual transformation of soul; but then the ground
of our hope that this will be _perfectly_ effected ere
we depart, is the mercy of God in Christ, quite as
much as our hope of forgiveness of actual sin, and
final salvation. Oh, some do separate things too much,
as if it were possible to err by too full a reliance
on Christ; as if there was a danger that He or
we should, by _that_ means, forget the work of grace.
Grace is grace throughout, not of works, but of Him
that calleth. Still, I believe there must and will be
variations in our modes of viewing the great gospel,
the "exceeding broad" commandment. May we, as
S. Tuke so beautifully said, "know one another in
the one bond of brotherhood, 'One Lord, one faith,
one baptism;'" without entering into nice distinctions
and metaphysical subtleties. And may I, to
whom temptations of this kind are naturally so accessible,
be preserved in my own spirit from the snares
of death, cleansed "from secret faults," kept from
"presumptuous sins," and hidden in the Lord's
pavilion from the strife of tongues.
_7th Mo. 9th_. I have been thinking much of the
young women at the Union, and yesterday went to
see them. A sad spectacle; but they seemed willing
and glad to be visited, and I hope to go once a week
to read to them, and to teach a few of them to read.
Oh that my life were more useful than it is!
_7th Mo. 18th_. Oh, why was I induced to allow
thoughts and reasonings to supplant worship! How
they plead their own utility, and how like good is the
thought about good! but then the dry, barren, unsatisfied
unrest of soul that followed! Strange, that
thought employed to so little purpose at other times
should pretend to be so edifying in meetings. Reveries
on probability, as being a mere relation between a
cause and a spectator, or bystander; not between cause
and effect. Thought it important touching free will
and foreknowledge. God is certain of futurity--we
are uncertain. Futurity is certain in relation to God,
uncertain in relation to us--probable or improbable in
relation to us, neither in relation to God; but neither
the certainty nor the probability exists in future non-existent
fact, therefore I take it they do not influence
the fact. This, perhaps, is profitless; but I am glad
to find that thought on this point always tends to confirm
what I believe is the true scriptural doctrine in
opposition to Calvinism. This was a natural reaction
on the minds of reformers from the Romish doctrine
of justification by works. They no sooner found that
man cannot make his own salvation, than they fancied
he could not reject it. They learned that it was freely
given to some, and fancied that it could not have been
freely offered to all.
_7th Mo. 20th_. Mere carnal conscientiousness is a
poor substitute for love of God. The constant inquiry,
"What must I do to keep an easy conscience?"
is no proof of high Christian attainment; rather
says the Christian, "What can I render for all His
benefits?"
_7th Mo. 30th_. A visit to J. Harvey's corpse. [A
poor man whom she had frequently visited.] I have
been much concerned about him in days past, and
now can a little rejoice in his exceeding joy. An
emaciated, sallow countenance, but speaking perfect
rest. He spoke scarcely at all for some days. I saw
him three days before his death, and could but commend
him to one of the "many mansions;" but he
could scarcely answer.
A few passages about this period, record Eliza's desire for a
friendship with some sympathizing mind out of her own family,--some
one whose views, whilst tending to the same point as her own, would
yet have the freshness of an altogether different experience. Not
that she undervalued home affections, for that would have been quite
contrary to her nature, but, after alluding to them warmly, she says,
"At the same time, we want a friendship for the rest of our faculties
and minds; and it cannot be, I believe, that _one_ family should
supply to any one of its members all that it is capable of
appreciating and experiencing in the way of friendship." Another entry
states, "I have a new friendship with M.B., which promises substantial
comfort. Just the thing I have wished for all my life. We have
exchanged two letters on each side." This acquaintance ripened into
a connection which was afterwards steadily maintained,--although
the intercourse of the two friends was principally by letter. That
circumstance, however, has caused the preservation of thoughts and
sentiments which otherwise would have been unrecorded; and, as the
letters offer much of an interesting character, copious extracts from
them are hereafter given:
_8th Mo. 2d_. Letter to M.B.
* * * Surely, whoever is not a true friend to himself
and to his own best interests cannot be such to
another. Here, indeed, if I may hope to have part or
lot in the matter, the thing aimed at is high; but this
does not insure its attainment, and there is great cause
for care that the humiliating discovery of the discrepancy
between the two, does not lead us to lower the one rather
than seek to elevate the other. I have a strong belief
of the importance of self-scrutiny and honesty with one's
own heart, of real willingness to know and feel the
worst of one's self, and sincerity of application to the
true means of remedy. Perhaps the very sense of deficiency
in this particular, makes me believe the more its
value; but I dislike what I think to be the false humility
of some persons, who, while seeming to claim the
_blessings_ of religion, would think it presumption to profess,
or even expect, conformity to its standard. The
presumption always seems to me on the other side; and
yet who is free from it altogether? Very long it takes
some persons--of whom I am one--to get through the
seventh chapter of Romans. Many a time they get to
the twenty-fourth verse, and stick in the twenty-fifth,
looking wishfully over the barrier which divides them
from the eighth chapter; and yet, if thoroughly willing
to know the worst of themselves, they would perhaps
find that it is because a _part_ of a man's nature may go
so far, while it requires the _whole_ spirit to make this
last transition. I think I long for true humiliation in
the evidence of my own deficiency here.
* * * * *
I did, indeed, enjoy the Yearly Meeting's Epistle: it
is a wholesome one in these days. How refreshing is
it in thought, to abstract ourselves from the words and
doings of men, and think of that _one_ eternal unchanging
truth, which can never be inconsistent with itself and
which, though hid from the wise and prudent, is revealed
to babes! Here I think the belief of the identity
of our own character hereafter, comes in well, and
should lead us to consider whether we love truth absolutely,
and not only relatively to the circumstances
which will not exist then; and whether we can be happy
in a land where righteousness and peace forever kiss
each other. And may I, without vanity and just in
illustration, quote from a rhyme of my own?--
While thus we long, in bonds of clay,
For freedom's advent bright,
Upbraid the tardy wheels of day,
And call the slumbering light,
Do we no willing fetters wear
Which our own hands have made,
No self-imposed distresses bear,
And court no needless shade?
While our departed friends to meet
We often vainly sigh,
To hold in heaven communion sweet,
Communion large and high,
Do we, while here on earth we dwell,
Those pure affections show
For which we long to bid farewell
To all we love below?
For no unhallow'd footstep falls
Upon that floor of gold;
Those pearly gates, those crystal walls,
No earthly hearts enfold.
And if our voice on earth be strange
To notes of praise and prayer,
That voice it is not death's to change,
Would make but discord there.
_8th Mo. 10th_. Strange vacillations of feeling; at
one time on the point of trusting the Lord for
eternity, at another, cannot trust him even for time.
At one time would cast my whole soul on him; at
another, will bear the weight of every straw myself,
till I become quite overloaded with them. Oh,
what a spectacle of folly, and weakness, and sin!
A soul immortal spending all her powers, wasting
her strength in strenuous idleness!
_8th Mo. 16th_. Very busy making things tidy,
and resolved, almost religiously, to keep them so.
I think I would not, for any consideration, die with
all my things in disorder. Disorder must be the
result of a disordered mind, and not only so, it
reacts on the mind and makes it worse in turn.
_8th Mo. 18th_. People do not say enough of the
need of _consistency_, when they speak of trusting in
Providence instead of arms. It was consistent in
William Penn, but it would not have been consistent
in his contemporaries, who took the Indians'
land for nought. Providence is not to be made a
protector of injustice, of which arms are the fitting
shield. Oh that consistency, earnestness of character,
were more valued!
_8th Mo. 23d_. Some true wish, may I say prayer,
that Christ may now, _now_, blot out as a cloud my
sins, even on his own terms, which, I am more convinced,
do not consist of things required of us to
give in exchange for his mercy, but are a part of
that mercy, a part of that redemption. Yes, when
sin becomes thoroughly a burden, as sin, then we see
that grace would be indeed imperfect, if it was not
to be a deliverance from the _power_, as well as the
punishment, of sin; and if we ask for grace, and yet
cherish sin, truly we know not what spirit we are
of, we wish not for complete salvation while we are
asking for it. Mercy is a broader thing than our
most earnest prayers suppose; yea, it is "above all
that we can ask or think."
_8th Mo_. Letter to M.B.
* * * How little it avails to know the theory of
wisdom and folly, right and wrong, etc., just so as to
occupy only the perceptive and reasoning faculties!
What we want, what the world wants, I think, is the
_Christian_ version of the present so fashionable idea of
_earnestness_, or, as I have thought it may imply, _consistency_
of character. We get ideas and opinions in a _dead_
way, and then they do not _pervade_ our characters; we
have but half learned them; they have influenced not
our feeling, but only our knowing faculties, and then
perhaps it had been better not to have known the way
of truth. A full response is in my heart to the difficulty
of keeping things in their right places, neither can I at
all agree to the idea "that where the love of the world
perverts one, the fear of it perverts ten;" at least, understanding
the world to mean "whatever passes as I
cloud between the mental eye of faith and things unseen."
Many a time has the book-shelf and the writing-desk
been made a substitute for the oratory. As to
friendship taking this place, surely the whole idea of a
_Church_ is based on that of Christian fellowship in its
strict sense. Be it ours to know what _that_ means, and
then, if our love to Christ is the main bond of union,
while that continues, we shall love him the more rather
than the less on that account. But I know that friendship
includes various other elements, and may we be
sensible that if these are made the main things in our
esteem, not only our faith, but our friendship too, becomes
debased.
Respecting the seventh and eighth chapter of Romans,
a believe I agree with thee; but lately I have had
stronger feelings than I used to have about the distinction
between _defective_ religion and _infant_ religion.
The full feeling of our corruption must certainly precede
the full reception of the Christian's joy; and I believe
we ought not to be too anxious to reduce to regular
theory what is so much above our finite understandings
as the work of the Holy Spirit in the heart. Still, I
think there is, when it goes on as it ought to do, unobstructed,
a completeness in all its stages. There may
and ought to be a perfect infant, then a perfect youth,
then a perfect man, and I don't know how to apply to
the advanced stage only; that blessed declaration which I
sometimes think expresses the sum of Christian liberty,
"There is, therefore, now no condemnation to them which
are in Christ Jesus." Still, it will be quite time enough
to reason about this when we have attained such an entirely
childlike state; nor, I suppose, shall we be long
in discovering the privilege of which we shall then be in
possession--"Of such is the kingdom of heaven." Then,
doubtless, we shall be furthest from reasoning at all.
We have been much interested with the last volume
of D'Aubigné. The imperfection of all the instruments
is strikingly shown. Luther's obstinate transubstantiation
or consubstantiation doctrines, Melancthon's timid
concessions to the Papists, and Zwingle's carnal warfare,
ending in the tragedy of Cappel, and, as it seems, in the
long delay of the establishment of the Reformation in
Switzerland. D'Aubigné appears very sensible of this
inconsistency: even the loss of Ecolampadius by a peaceful
death he represents as a happy encouragement to
the Church after the blow it had received; but I don't
think D'Aubigné a thorough peace advocate. He makes
so much distinction between the Churchman and Statesman,
that I fear he would allow of _mere_ rulers and
magistrates taking up arms on _merely_ secular affairs,
though he does not wish the Church to be defended by
such. I should like to know thy impression of the early
Christians' opinion on war. Neander allows that a _party_
objected to it, as in the case of Maximilian, A.D. 229;
but says that very sincere Christians were soldiers in
the Roman army, till Galerius required all soldiers to
take part in the heathen ceremonies.
_8th Mo. 26th_. Oh, how shall I set forth His
tender compassion, who has blessed me this evening
with, I was going to say, the abundance of peace
and truth? Oh, how near He has been, helping me
to cast my all on Him, helping me to leave the
things that are behind, yes, and the things that are
before too, as far as self is concerned, and commit
my future way and safety to Him! When His love
has been made known, how have I been grieved by
fears of future folly, fears, too, that have been grievously
fulfilled. What a pretest this for harassing
myself with fears that it will be so again! But, oh,
these fears are very far from that fear which the
Lord will put into His children's hearts, that they
shall not depart from Him. They have no preserving
power over me; they are "of the earth, earthy," and
solely come from distrust of that grace which is ever-sufficient;
from a desire to have a share myself in
that victory which is Christ's alone. Oh, if my incessant
regards were to Him alone, He would take
all care on Himself. "He is the same yesterday, to-day,
and forever," and His faith _is_ "the victory
which overcomes the world." Humility, true watchfulness,
and self-distrust are diametrically opposed
to this careful spirit: their language ever is, "I am
nothing, Christ is all."
_8th Mo. 27th_. Changed indeed; not any light to
be seen in my dark heart. Yet I look up, I trust
singly, to Him from whom it came yesterday; and
thither may I look till again the day break. Can I
say, in full sincerity, "_more_ than they that watch
for the morning"? Alas that I am so versatile!
Christian and worldling within a day. Oh for a
deeper sense that I am not my own,--that I have no
right to disturb the sanctuary of my own spirit
when God has made it such,--that there is no other
way than whole-hearted and honest-hearted Christianity
to attain the heavenly kingdom!
_9th Mo. 9th_. Letter to M.B.
* * * Our wily foe finds every thing which produces
strong emotion and commotion of mind a good
opportunity for trying new temptations, and, at any
rate, tries hard to keep us from committing all to a
better hand than ours. I feel quite ashamed of the
measure of his success with me; but surely we want a
new sanctification every day,--a new recurrence to the
grace that will _set_ "all dislocated bones," as J. Fletcher
calls unsanctified feelings and affections. I was much
pleased with this comparison, which I found in his life
the other day. I think it is an admirable exemplification
of the uneasiness and pain of mind they cause.
But how very uncertain our frames of feeling are;
sometimes thinking there is but _one_ thing which we have
not _quite_ given up to God, and sometimes, with perhaps
correcter judgment, lamenting, "_all my bones_ are out
of joint." May we, my dear M., encourage each other
in seeking help of Him who received and healed all
that had need of healing.
_9th Mo. 20th_. Finished most interesting review
of John Foster's life. * * * Foster was a very
deep thinker. He thought the boundary of the
knowable wider than the generality do. This may
be; but I fancy he does not always admit sufficient
weight in his arguments to the manifest relations
and actings of the unknown upon the known. He
was Calvinistic; this, joined to a strong view of the
moral perfection and benevolence of God, led him
to the natural result of denying _eternal_ punishments.
Could he have seen more of the essence of a human
spirit, as he doubtless now sees it, I venture to think
that that mysterious personality, by virtue of which
man may be said to choose his destiny, _i.e._ to embrace
destruction, or to submit to be saved by the Saviour
in his own way, that the perception of this personal
image of God in man might vindicate the Divine
perfection and benevolence, and make it evident that
our "salvation is of God, and our destruction is of
ourselves."
_10th Mo. 2d_. Oh to be permitted any taste of
that grace which is free--ever free; which brings a
serene reliance on eternal love; which imprints its
own reflection on the soul! Oh, be that reflection
unbroken by restless disquiets of mind; be that
image watchfully prized, and waited for, and waited in.
_10th Mo. 5th_. Some sweetness in thinking how
much akin is "having nothing" to "possessing all
things."
_10th Mo. 14th_. Talk with James Teare on the
immorality of drinking. Query:--Is it _per se_ a _sin_
to drink a little? He does not affirm it in pure
abstract, but says that no _action_ can be purely
abstract; and that as to uphold an immoral system
is immoral, as the drinking system is immoral, as
moderate draughts uphold the drinking system, and,
in fact, cannot be drunk by the community without
giving birth to drunkenness--_ergo_, moderate drinking
is an immoral practice. He does not at all judge
those who do not see it; only says they ought to
accept light and knowledge, and he cannot doubt
what would then be the result.
_10th Mo. 17th_. The above talk with J. Teare was
a great satisfaction to me; we went that evening to
his meeting, and after two hours of deep interest in
a crowded meeting I signed the pledge, with a hand
trembling with emotion. I could not trust myself to
tell S. that the pleasure he expressed was but a faint
reflection of mine. I have been expending two days
in a letter to the _Friend_ on "Distillation," which I
ardently hope to get inserted.
_11th Mo. 3d_. Last evening sweetly realized in
some degree being in the Lord's own hands; and
this morning again enabled to cease from my own
vain attempts and trust the Lord. Oh, the folly of
the long trials I have made to _do_ something, when I
come before Him! It is all in vain. If I am ever
saved it will be His doing, His _free grace_; and this
moment can I call Jesus _my_ Saviour. On Fifth-day
I read Barclay's fifth Proposition--pleased and
satisfied almost entirely with it.
_12th Mo. 5th_. I have got my letter inserted in
the _Friend_; the editor says my zeal has carried me
too far as to _means_; he agrees as to the evil of the
system. Oh that it were seen as it deserves! But
how talk of abolition by _law_, and keep spirit-merchants
in the Church? [See _Friend_, vol. iv. page
232.]
_12th Mo. 11th_.--Letter to M.B.
* * * _Nothing_, I think, loses by its foundation
being tried. We see that in yet higher things it is needful
and right often to try whether principle is firm; and,
though sometimes we may tremble lest faith should fall
in the trial, perhaps it would be more just to fear lest
the trial should merely show it already to have fallen.
What thou sayest about laying aside reasoning is very
true; but how hard to do so! Saul's armor doubtless it
is, as says the little tract. How easy, comparatively, to
let any want go unsatisfied, rather than that imperious
reason which urges its claim with so many good pretences,
which tells us truth will always bear investigation,
and that if we cannot explain by our small faculties
experiences in which the highest mysteries are involved,
the experiences must have been fallacious! How different
is _this sort_ of voluntary and almost presumptuous self-investigation
from submitting all to the unerring touchstone!
It is, indeed, very instructive to observe that our
Saviour's rejoicing in spirit was not over the subjects of
some wondrous apocalypse, or over those endowed with
miraculous power, but over "babes;" and that in the
same way His lamentation was not that the Jews had
refused His offers of any thing of this kind, but that
they "would not" be "gathered" by Him as "chickens
under their mother's wing."
It was the fault of my obscure expression, that when
I spoke of my "painful reason" I did not make it apparent
that I meant it of the _faculty_ of reason, which
has been a very unquiet occupant of my mind for some
years past, and which has led me to the conclusion that
our mental atmosphere, the whole system of feelings,
affections, hopes, doubts, fears, perplexities, etc., is one
which it is dangerous _needlessly_ and wilfully to disturb.
When once we have carelessly wrought up a storm it is
not in our own power so quickly to lay it, and the poor
mind is almost compelled to endure passively the disturbance
till these unruly elements spontaneously subside,
or something better interferes for its help. Surely,
if there has been any resting-place given us, if our eyes
have ever seen the "quiet habitation," we ought to fear
the excitement of any thing which, naturally breaks the
equilibrium. I believe some people think _imagination_
the unruly member among the mental parts; but with
me it is the aforesaid offender decidedly. I hope I do
not tease thee about teetotalism: it lies near my heart,
and has done so for a long time; and though I too find
it an effort sometimes to give up an evening to a meeting
of that sort, it is such a comfort to be able to do any thing
to show on which side I am, that I think I ought not to
mind that.
_1st Mo. 4th_, 1847. Yesterday, and the day before,
gently blest in spirit with having things placed more
in their right position in my heart than for some
time before. One evening I had toiled long in vain,
could not overcome a sad sense of spiritual deficiency.
It occurred to me that this might be the very best
thing for me: then I opened my heart and welcomed
it; and, oh, how did a smile of compassion beam
upon me, and the grace that would not be purchased
came in full and free! But it is infinitely important
to watch for more.
Thus experiencing both "how to be abased" and "how to abound," she
learned to be satisfied with poverty, and recognized in barrenness,
as well as in richness of joy and love, a guiding and purifying grace,
leading on to the perfect life in Christ.
_1st Mo. 10th_. Letter to M.B.
* * * Oh for that simple faith which thou speaks
of as mastering mountains of difficulty, and that not by
might or power, but by its intrinsically victorious
nature! I have sometimes been struck by the way in
which this is asserted in the text, "This is the victory
which overcometh the world, even our faith." It is
taken for granted that there will be a contest and a
victory; but if there is true faith the world will certainly
be overcome: I mean provided the faith is held fast. It
may be abandoned, or foes within may betray the
citadel; but it will not otherwise yield to pressure from
without. May we, if possible, encourage one another
not to let go that small, and, it may be, famishing and
almost expiring confidence, which _hath_, not only is promised,
great recompense of reward. I little thought to
come to any thing so encouraging when beginning a sort
of lamentation over myself. But really there is so
much that is deceptive in the deceptive heart; so many
things, even our humility, that we once thought of the
right kind, turn out to have been some refined manifestation
of spiritual pride, that we may daily find, at least
I do, that the question "Who can cure it?" follows its
judgment as "desperately wicked," with emphasis full
as great as that of "Who can know it?" is prompted by
the discovery that it is "deceitful above all things."
* * * Job Thomas's death-bed has long been an
interesting one to me; and I think his parting address,
especially seeing it is a translation from Welsh, conveys
remarkably the impression of a mind beginning to be
shone upon from the other world. On the other hand,
death-beds of opposite characters, such as "Altamont"
in Murray's Power of Religion, carry a no less convincing
evidence of the dark realities to come. When
my father was in America he was much interested with
hearing from a friend, a female connection of whom had
lived in the house with Tom Payne, some account of the
last hours of that wretched man, who appears to have
become so fully sensible of his fatal errors as to have
written a recantation, which some of his infidel friends
destroyed. The account they gave to Cobbett was entirely
false; as the friend related that he expressed to
her the greatest sorrow for the harm that he had done,
and, on hearing that she had burned some of his books,
he expressed a wish that all had done the same.[2]
[Footnote 2: For a farther account see Life of Stephen Grellet,
vol. i. p. 163, Amer. edit.]
* * * Total abstinence, as well as many other good
Causes, and _the_ good cause, have lost a noble advocate in
our honored and lamented friend J.J. Ghirney. It is
hard to reconcile one's mind to so sudden a summons;
so little time for his sorrowing friends to receive those
ever valuable and precious legacies, "dying sayings."
We have heard of nothing of that kind; and perhaps he
was not conscious of the approach of death at all. So
much the brighter, doubtless, the glad surprise of the
transition. Oh, how one longs for permission to look
in at heaven's opened door-way after the entrance of
such souls!
_1st Mo. 23d_. To-day, writing rhyming Irish,
appeal. It got the upper hand and made me sin--so
unhappy about it. When I believe sincerely
desiring to offer it up to the Lord's, will, I grew
easy to continue it. Perhaps it was a selfish and
self-pleasing influence, but I think not so. I felt
very glad afterwards to be able to ask to have all
my heart consecrated by the Lord's spirit; and I do
believe that to rectify, not extinguish, the beat of
oar facilities, is religion's work.
This appeal on behalf of the poor Irish was
never made public. It had occupied her
thoughts very deeply, and, had she seen fit to
publish it, might have been an auxiliary to the
material efforts on behalf of the sufferers in
which she, in common with many others at that
period, was warmly engaged.
Many visits to poor people. In some I felt able
to talk to them of heavenly things. I believe it is
right to speak in love and interest, but never to out-strip
our feelings. "I was sick, and ye visited me,"
refers to a duty; and surely, when we are blessed
with a knowledge of the way of salvation, and feel
anxious for the salvation of others, it is right to do
our endeavors; at the same time well knowing that
God only can touch the heart. I believe that indifference
and indolence do much shelter themselves
under pretence of leaving God's work to Himself.
I have often learned salutary lessons in doing my
little.
_2d Mo. 19th_. I have been musing upon "_my
sorrow was stirred_." Can it be that every heart is a
treasury of sadness which has but to be stirred up
to set us in mourning? Is it proportionate to the
amount of evil? Does a certain amount of evil
necessarily bring a certain amount of sorrow soon or
late? Do we suffer only by our own fault, unless
a grief is actually inflicted upon us? I think not.
There may be mental storms, over-castings of cloud
in the mind's hemisphere, independent of the exhalations
from the soil.
_2d Mo. 23d_. Letter to M.B.
* * * The truth is, that I was once fonder of reading
than of almost any thing else. * * * I don't
know how to tell thee about the strangely sad impression
that has followed, that "this also is vanity." I
know it is our duty to improve our minds, and I wish
much that mine had been better cultivated than it has
been, and yet some utilitarian infirmity of mind has so
often suggested, "What use is it?" while I have been
reading, that my zest for the book has been almost destroyed,
and the very thought of the volume has been
saddened by remembering what I felt while reading it.
So that what E. Barrett says of light reading is true to
me of Schiller and some others:--
"Merry books once read for pastime,
If we dared to read again,
Only memories of the last time,
Would swim darkly up the brain."
I hope these feelings are not infectious, or I certainly
would not inflict on thee the description. But do not
take this as a _general_ picture of me. It is a morbid
occasional state of things; consequent, by reaction, on
the exclusiveness of aim with which those things were
followed. I learned sooner than I suppose many do,
the earnestness, coldness, reality of life; and there has
come an impression of its being _too late_ to prepare for
life, and quite time to live. However imperfectly, I have
learned that to live _ought_ to be to prepare to die; but,
without stopping to describe how that idea has acted, a
secondary purpose of being of some use to others has. I
might almost say, tormented my faculty of conscientiousness.
Don't suppose that this is any evidence of religion
or love. I believe it rather argues the contrary. Every
attempt to do good ought to spring naturally from love
to God and man; not from a wish merely to attain our
_beau-ideal_ of duty. Now, though I so much like reading,
I did not seem able to make any use of it; for
strangely confused were long my ideas of usefulness,
and there has followed many a conflict between these
two unsanctified tendencies. Perhaps they have done
some good in chastening each other and chastening their
owner. Do not think I prospered in either, for I have,
as I said, a poor memory; and then I wanted to see
fruits of my labors, and spent a great deal of time in
making charts; one of the history of empires, one of
the history of inventions and discoveries; the latter,
especially, was not worth the labor. I have had a taste
of many things, and yet, to speak honestly, excel in
hardly any thing: the reason of this is partly a great
want of order. I never attempted any thing like a
"course of reading:" but, when I began a book, _the_
_book_ was the object more than my own real improvement.
I read often D.E.F., before I had read A.B.C.,
and so grew confused, and then, if it is to be confessed,
the childish pride of having read a book was not without
its influence. Poetry in modern times has certainly
become diluted in strength and value; but,
though I have not at all a large acquaintance, I think
there are many good modern poets. I much admire
Wordsworth's "Intimations of Immortality," as well as
many of his shorter and simpler pieces--"The Longest
Day," for instance. There is a great deal of good
instruction, as well as deep thought, in his poetry; but
there is not, I think, very clearly an evangelical spirit;
indeed, the "Excursion," which is beautiful, is unsatisfactory
to me in this respect. Longfellow I think not
_clearly_ influenced by religious principle, but I do not
see any thing contrary to it. Some of his short pieces
are like little _gems_,--so beautifully _cut_, too. Elizabeth
Barrett's [Browning] deep thoughts, rich poetical ideas,
and thoroughly satisfactory principles, when they appear,
[1846] make her a great favorite with me and with us
all. Even her fictions, though so well told, are not
wrought up, or full of romantic incident; but the tale
is plainly used merely as a thread on which to string
rich thoughts and lessons. How much this is the case
with the "Lay of the Brown Rosary!" Even the sad
pieces, such as the "Lost Bower," end generally with a
gleam of light, not from a mere meteor of passion or
sentiment, but from a day-spring of Christian hope.
Perhaps I am too partial, for I know that taste, which in
me is particularly gratified with E. Barrett, will influence
our judgment. Some of Trench's poems, too, I think,
are worth learning; his "Walk in the Churchyard" I
particularly like.
_3d Mo. 25th._ Letter to M.B.
* * * But, oh, I do believe that if people did but
accustom themselves to view small things as parts of
large, moments as parts of life, intellects as parts of men,
lives as parts of eternity, religion would cease to be the
mere adjunct which it now is to many. * * * I am
convinced that till it be made _the one_ object of our
earnest love and endeavors, till we have an _upright_
heart, till the leader of the fir-tree points direct to
heaven, and all lateral shoots not merely refrain from
interfering, but mainly grow in order to support, nourish,
and minister to it, we shall never have that perfect
peace, that rest of spirit, that power to "breathe
freely,"--conscious that we are _as_ if not _all_ that we
ought to be,--which constitute the happiness of a
Christian. But enough of this: don't think I pretend
to any such attainment, though I can sometimes say, "I
follow after."
I much admired that part of Jane Taylor's "Remains"
which describes her cheerful and unmurmuring
acceptance of a humble quiet life, and her dislike of
mere show and machinery in benevolence. I do not
think the best public characters are those who accept
formally, and for its own sake, a prominent station, but
those who, following their individual duty, and occupying
their peculiar gifts, are _thereby_ made honorable in the
earth. To them, I fancy, _publicity_ is often an accident
of small moment; and they who walk in the light of
heaven mind little whether earthly eyes regard or disregard
them. I do not, however, _covet_ for any one whom
I love a conspicuous path. There must be many thorns
and snares.
_4th Mo. 4th_. Much interested with Hester
Rogers's life. The Methodist standard of holiness is
full as high as Friends'--_viz_. the gospel standard.
Struck with the accordance with G. Fox's experience.
He was asked if he had no sin, and answered, "Jesus
Christ had put away his sin, and in Him (Jesus) is
no sin." This was a young man. He grew much
afterwards, doubtless, in faith and knowledge. What
would be thought of a person, especially young, who
should profess so much now? Is the gospel changed?
It is, or we lack faith in its principle. We do not
_perseveringly_ seek, _determinately_ seek, to know for
ourselves what this high attainment is.
Nice visit at the Union on First-day. Congregation
enlarged, notwithstanding substitution of Bible
for Tract, and very quiet. Cornelius, a helpless sick
man, seeming near death, melted my heart with his
talk. I felt quite unfit to be called a "sister" by
such a saint.
_4th Mo. 10th_. "To have had much forgiven" is,
I can joyfully yet reverently record this evening, my
blessed portion; and in the sense, which as a cloud
of warmth and light now dwells in my heart, of the
loving-kindness and tender mercy of God in Christ
Jesus, I have been ready to say, in effect, "Bless the
Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his
holy name," "who forgiveth all thine iniquities,
who healeth all thy diseases, who redeemeth thy life
from destruction, who crowneth thee with loving-kindness
and tender mercies." How is all given me
gratis, without money and without price! Nothing
is mine but confusion of face for my oft-repeated
rebellions.
Oh, it is not that we can get salvation for ourselves;
it is that we hinder not, refuse not, turn not
from, but accept, wait for, pant for the free gift of
our Saviour's grace. "To Him who is able to do
exceeding abundantly," the work belongs. He can
cause that even as sin hath reigned, so shall grace
reign; and that as death hath triumphed, so shall
spiritual and eternal life triumph also. Amen and
amen.
_4th Mo. 17th_. How short-lived were the feelings
I recorded at the close of last week! I believe an
earnest talk with a chatty caller on minor matters,
recalled my heart that same evening from its happy
abiding-place. I have thought of the words, "Jesus
Christ _the end_ of your conversation," and fear he is
but a _by-end_ of mine. It is hard to analyze our
feelings: perhaps when discomfort from excitement
and discontent is greatest, my sin is no greater than
when in listless apathy and earthly-mindedness my
thoughts are bounded by the seen and the temporal.
_5th Mo. 24th_. A solemn warning from Uncle R.
on Fifth-day did me good. I was blessed with some
degree of ability to use the words, "Into Thy hands
I commit my spirit," and though I feared to add,
"Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord of truth," in its
full sense, yet I have felt how precious were the
words, "as unto a _faithful_ Creator." Oh, does He
not say in _these_ days, "Open thy mouth wide, and I
will fill it"? Is His hand shortened at all? Can
we not have faith in our principles?
The following lines were written about this, time, in allusion to the
marriage of her eldest, sister, and the funeral of John Wadge, an old
and valued friend of the family. It was hoped that the cactus which
had belonged to J.W. would have blossomed in time for the wedding; but
the first flower only opened a fortnight afterwards, on the morning of
his own funeral: and when, in a few years, the marriage of the beloved
writer of the lines was so speedily followed by her own decease, the
striking appropriateness of these touching verses could not fail to be
remembered.