should not die in the pit, nor that her bread should fail._ This
trial was the severest of all. “The devil (she said) besets me sorely,
I shall never hold out; I shall perish at last; but if I am lost I
am content: tho’ I go down to hell, let but Christ be with me, and I
will go without fear.” Here she seemed to be strengthened to endure a
greater agony. She drank of the cup which her Lord drank of, and had
fellowship in those sufferings, which made him cry out, _My_ God _my_
God, _why hast thou forsaken me_! To compleat her distress, the angel
of death came! She was struck and changed on a sudden (so that one came
and told me she was just a dying.) Then as man would judge, she let go
her hold of God: And _the spirit failed before him, and the soul which
he had made_.
*In this dreadful moment, this last extremity, this deepest distress
the human soul is capable of――the Comforter came. The Lord, her Saviour,
came suddenly to his temple, _as lightening shineth from one end of the
heaven unto the other, so was the coming of the Son of man_. He took
away the veil from her heart, and revealed himself in her, in a manner
the world knoweth not of. She broke out, “Now I know that Christ died
for me. He has washed me from all my sins in his precious blood. I have
eternal life abiding in me.”
Soon after she had found redemption, I called, and saw her in full
triumph of faith. O how unlike what she was at my last visit! _If
any man is in Christ he is a new creature._ This is the work which
despisers _will not believe, tho’ a man declare it unto them_. Her
soul was passed from death unto life, an hidden, everlasting life in
God. After we had prayed she witnessed a good confession. “I believe
in Jesus Christ; I feel the truth of these words of his, _I am the
resurrection and the life_. I have no fear, no doubt, no trouble. Your
words were true: he has fulfilled his promise.”
*Never did I behold a soul so filled. Some of her words were, “Now
indeed he has made me amends for my waiting. Blessed be God, all my
pain is nothing; I have suffered nothing. I smell the sweet odour of
the name of Jesus. His smell is as the smell of _Lebanon_. Who is so
sweet as my Beloved? My Beloved is mine, and I am his. I love Jesus
Christ with all my heart. I desire to be dissolved and to be with
Christ. But his will be done. I have no will of my own.” While I was
saying, “Doubt not, but be persuaded that neither life nor death, nor
things present nor things――” She interrupted me with “No, no, I cannot
doubt, altho’ I did doubt. I cannot fear now; perfect love hath cast
out fear. I have full redemption in the blood of Jesus.”
*To her sisters she had said before I came, “Heaven is open! I see
Jesus Christ with all his angels and saints in white. And I am joined
to them. I shall never be parted more. I see what I cannot utter or
express! Cannot you see Jesus Christ? There, there he stands, ready to
receive you all. O do not doubt of the love of Jesus: look on me! If he
has taken me into his bosom, who needs despair? Fear not, fear not. He
is loving unto every man: _I believe Christ died for all_.”
Her first words, after I left her, were, “Liberty liberty! This is
the glorious liberty of the sons of God! I know it, I see it, I feel
it. Believe, believe there is such a liberty! And he will give it you.
_I am sanctified wholly, spirit, soul and body._”
She had spent the time, while I was absent, in fervent prayer; and at
my third visit told me, “I have whatsoever I ask. I have asked life for
my mother and sisters, and have obtained it.” I took the opportunity,
and put her upon praying for the peace of _Jerusalem_, for union, and
for the preachers of reprobation, that God might open their eyes; for
my brother, and for the lambs of this fold, that they might not be
turned out of the way.
The fourth time I came to see her, they told me she had been in a
great conflict; oftentimes repeating, “I will wrestle with thee for
a blessing, I will not let thee go unless thou bless him. Bless that
soul! Give him the thing I ask.” At last, she said, “Now I am more than
conqueror. I have the petitions I ask. Not one is unanswered.”
To me, she said, “I have power with God, and with man, and have
prevailed.”
From expounding at the _Malt-room_, I returned the last time, and found
her ready for the Bridegroom. Her every word was full of power, and
life, and love. It was the Spirit of her Father which spoke in her. She
had been wrestling again, and making intercession for the saints, and
all mankind; particularly our own church and nation. Some of her words
were, “Thy judgments are abroad in the earth; O that the inhabitants of
this land may learn righteousness! Grant me, sweet Jesus, that they may
repent and live.” She prayed fervently for the society, that they might
abide in the word, keep close together, and be all of one heart and
mind. There is a curse upon them, (said she) a curse of unthankfulness;
but I have prayed my dear Lord to remove it, and he will remove it.”
When one of her sisters came to see her, who was deeply mourning
for Christ, she laboured much to comfort her, bad her look at her,
so miserable and hopeless an unbeliever lately; and assured her the
Comforter should quickly come. At the sight of her sister’s tears, O
how sweetly did she lament over her! I never saw such sympathy! The
spirit in her mourned like a turtle-dove, and made intercession with
groanings that cannot be uttered.
*All the time of her sickness, she never once complained, or shewed
the least sensibility of pain, or that she had any body at all. When
one asked her if she did not feel her pains, being then in strong
convulsions, she answered, “My pain is great, but I do not feel it. It
does not trouble me. I chuse it rather than ease; for my Lord chuses it.
Pain or ease, life or death, ’tis all one. The Spirit beareth witness
with my spirit, that I am a child of God: I have the earnest of mine
inheritance in my heart. I have no will. I am made perfect in love.”
I asked, whether that peace which she tasted above a year ago, was the
same she now enjoyed? She answered, “It was of the same kind, in the
lowest or first degree. It surely was justification.”
After I went, she said, “This day shall I be with him in paradise.
Within four and twenty hours I shall be with my Beloved.”
*She continued all night in the labour of love, making powerful
supplication for all men. About three on Sunday morning she said, “It
is finished.” All suffering even for others ceased from that moment,
and she began the new song, which shall never end. Her whole employment
now was the same with theirs, to whom she was come, the innumerable
company of angels, the church of the first-born. She sang to the
harpers harps, without any intermission, till two in the afternoon;
even while they were giving her cordials, she sang. Her hope was full
of immortality, her looks of heaven, till with smiles of triumph she
resigned her spirit into the hands of her dear Redeemer. Death wanted
all its pomp and circumstances of horror. She went away without an
agony, or sigh, or groan. She only rested; and sweetly fell asleep in
the arms of Jesus.
A LETTER to the
Rev. Mr. JOHN WESLEY.
By a GENTLEWOMAN.
_Laton-Stone_, November 8, 1764.
Reverend and dear Sir,
I HAVE never yet had an opportunity of fully laying before you, the
reasons of my coming to reside at this place, and the nature of my
employment here, which I will now take the liberty to do.
During my former abode among this people, they were often laid on my
mind in prayer, and I was often greatly comforted, by an hope, that
they would one day hear and receive the gospel.
Removing from these parts in February, 1761, those thoughts were
taken from me, for a season: but after a year and an half, being
providentially called to return hither, the same thoughts returned into
my mind. Yet I could not easily consent to leave _London_, till I had,
with my friend, laid it before the Lord; being fully persuaded, that if
it was of God, he would make plain paths for our feet.
Soon after, many outward providences confirmed us, in our belief, that
it was God’s appointment. His Spirit also shone clearer upon our souls,
and convinced us, it was a cross which he called us to take up. One day
in particular, when my friend and I were laying it before him in prayer,
he condescended to assure her, that he would _not send us a warfare at
our own charges_. I thought, _let not my Lord be angry, and I will ask_
yet one sign more. This was the settling of an affair, which seemed to
man impossible. And it was settled within a few days. O God, who can
stay thy hand?
But no sooner was my design mentioned to others, than it was vehemently
opposed, one in particular charged me not to go, saying, “It was all
a scheme of the devil.” Either that night, or the next, I dreamed
I was at _Laton-Stone_, and a great number of all sorts of people
about me. I was prest in spirit to speak to them; but being pained
at the appearance of many gay ones among them, I said, in the anguish
of my soul, “Lord, what do I here among this people?” Immediately I
thought Jesus came down, and stood just before me. The brightness of
his presence so overcame me, that there was no strength left in me. He
said, “I will send you to a people, that are not a people; and I will
go with you: bring them unto me. I will lay my hand upon them, and heal
them: fear not; only believe.” He then disappeared, leaving me quite
penetrated with his presence and his words. After having wept some time,
I thought I told the people what the Lord had said. About half seemed
serious and attentive, and desirous of being separated from the rest. I
thought I was to find them a place to meet in: in order to which, I was
obliged to walk over a floor no thicker than a wafer: however, I went
over, and not a splinter gave way under my feet. Soon after I awoke
with these words, “The mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.”
Our fears were now removed, and on March 24, 1763, we came to this
house, in obedience to what we believed the will of our heavenly Father.
We came, trusting in him; and, blessed be God, we have not trusted him
in vain.
From the first hour we found his presence with us, but did not see,
for what end we were come. We therefore _stood still to see_ his
_salvation_. Mean time we determined, to live by rule in every thing:
and in order to supply the want of the public means, from which we were
in great measure cut off, we agreed to spend an hour every evening,
part in reading to the family, and part in private prayers. The first
book we read was, “The Rebuke to Backsliders, and Spur to Loiterers.”
And glory be to God, our meeting has hitherto never been in vain.
In about a week, a poor woman whom I had formerly talked with, coming
to ask charity, desired to know, if she might not come when we went
to prayers? I told her, she might at seven in the evening. She did so,
as did two or three more soon after. We then appointed them to come on
Thursday nights. In a little time they were increased to above twenty.
We now thought it best, to talk with them, and that as closely as
we could. Some were quickly offended and came no more. Some appeared
convinced of sin. These we desired to come to us on Tuesday nights;
and the second time we met, two of them found peace with God.
A little before this, we judged the time was come to have public
preaching here. This was a close trial to _me_, such as few can
conceive, unless they have been in the same situation. But I knew,
whosoever would not _forsake all_, could not be Christ’s disciple:
seeing he had said, _If any man love father or mother more than me,
he is not worthy of me_.
We then applied to you, and the next Sunday, May the 25th, Mr. _Murlin_
preached the first sermon. This continued every other Sunday, though
not without considerable opposition. In November, Mr. _Morgan_ received
twenty-five into the society, and divided them into two classes. Ah
Lord! How many of these shall I meet at the resurrection of the just!
But a new scene now opened. The reasons on which I proceeded, I will
lay before you as plainly as I can.
From a child I have ever believed, God had appointed me for some work,
in which I should be much blest, if I was faithful; but that if I took
up with any thing less than I was called to, I should only be saved
as by _fire_. Often have I panted after an outward, as well as inward
conformity to the will of God; greatly desiring to live as the first
Christians did, when _all that believed were of one soul_, and counted
not _any of the things they possessed_ their own. But I saw the time
was not yet come; yet I could not but believe, in your day something
of this kind would be.
When I was about seventeen, the Lord was pleased to shew me, that I was
not to build tabernacles here. For none of those ways I had cut out for
myself, were such as he had appointed for me. I cannot better describe
what I then felt, than by transcribing part of a letter to a friend.
“The Lord has been merciful above all I can ask or think. I found a
greater blessing the last time I was in town than ever.”――And within
this day or two, I see much more clearly the way in which I ought to
walk. The Lord seems to call me to much more activeness, so that I am
sometimes ready to cry out, “Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do?”
Then I considered, Can I do more for the souls or bodies of those about
me? But this does not seem to be the thing. *What I am now led to wish
for is, to serve those that are in Christ, both with soul and body. And
as soon as the Lord has prepared me for his work, and set me at liberty,
my firm resolution is, by the grace of God, to be wholly given up to
the church. I plainly see, I have no more to do with the world, than to
allow myself the bare necessaries of life. And tho’ it has pleased God,
I should not have my living to work for, that is no reason my hands
should be idle. I would be as those described by St. _Paul_, _to bring
up children, to lodge strangers_, to be ready for the meanest offices,
to _relieve the afflicted_, to _visit the fatherless and widows, and
diligently follow after every good work_.”
_Epping-Forest, May 23, 1757._
I have ever since found the same impressions on my soul; and when we
came to this house, I felt a kind of rest I did not before, as if I was
where God would have me to be. But one day reflecting, that we had more
room than we wanted, and thinking, whom I should take in to fill it,
it was strongly imprest upon my mind, _He that believeth shall not make
haste_. Not long after the thought of _bringing up children_ returned.
But I was afraid of making haste; till it appeared from many reasons to
be the will of God, that we should take in one that offered. Soon after
we were induced to receive another, and presently two more. I now saw
our family would be an increasing one; as we could not bring up even
these children properly, without a person whose constant business it
should be, to teach them during the school-hours. For it was impossible
we should do it long, while we were necessarily employed in so many
other things. I knew this, and the other expences which must attend
the keeping six or seven children, would require an hundred a year
more than I had. But I remembered again, _The Lord liveth, and truly
hitherto he hath helped us_.
*Our method of educating our children is this. As our design is to
fit them for good servants, we endeavour as early as possible, to
inure them to labour, early-rising and cleanliness. We have now eleven.
Three of these, (two of whom are eleven years old, the other, between
nine and ten) rise at four. One lights the nursery fire, one mine,
the other, that below. At five, the rest of the family are called. And
when the children are drest and have prayed, they go (in summer) in the
garden from six till half an hour after, while the bigger ones make the
beds, and clean the rooms. At half hour after six we all join in family
prayer: at seven breakfast in the same room; two or three upon herb tea,
the rest upon milk-porridge. At eight, the bell rings for school, where
they continue till twelve; and then after a few minutes spent in prayer,
come to us. In winter, this is their hour for exercise, instead of the
morning and evening. In hot weather we read to them something they are
pleased with, or converse familiarly, so as (without seeming to aim at
it) to instil into them principles of religion, at the same time giving
them some kind of employ, which is rather amusement than business:
yet it just takes off the appearance of idleness. For, from the very
beginning, they have been carefully taught, never to do any thing, but
what they could give God a reason for. On this account we never use
the term _play_, nor suffer any to give them those toys or play-things,
which children are usually brought up to spend half their time in. And
when some of these were privately given, they threw them aside without
any bidding. Their recreation consists in diversifying their business,
which is varied even during their school-hours. Only the very little
ones now and then run in the garden for a quarter of an hour; but still
with a degree of seriousness; and they know it is for their health. At
one we dine: at two school begins again, except on Saturdays. At five
they return to us. About six they sup. At half after six they begin
to be washed, and at seven go to bed. Indeed in summer their supper is
sooner, so that they have an hour with us in the garden. During this
time they are all employed, some in watering, others in fetching the
water, the rest in pumping. And work of this kind they are all very
fond of.
*But O! what a want of wisdom do I find! I see in them, what I cannot
put in practice. I want the children not to be a moment from under
the _eye_ and the _attention_ of some judicious person: so that if the
eleven children were at work in so many different parts of the garden,
one might observe, that each works _diligently_. For sloth in temporals
always produces sloth in spirituals. Yet at the same time their work
must not be a _task_; for then it would not answer the end. Again,
their thoughts all the day long will naturally tend to evil. And their
words will be trifling. To _bid_ them do otherwise, avails no more,
than to bid the blackamoor be white. And to reprove them continually,
would be a burden greater than they could bear. But if by little
stories and hints, their minds could be insensibly drawn to better
subjects, they would be at length brought to remember, that God is
present, and is looking upon them every moment. When I consider this,
and many more things, which I see afar off, but cannot bring to effect,
I am constrained to say, “O Lord! I am not yet _throughly furnished to
every good work_.”
Some may say, “This is worldly wisdom, not gospel simplicity. And after
all you cannot change their hearts.” Most certain. But hath not God
said, _Train up a child in the way it should go_? Now I think true
simplicity is to obey God, and leave the consequence to him.
And we have already reason to believe, our labour has not been in vain.
There are dawnings of grace in most of the children. Some of them God
was pleased to bless in a particular manner, on the 7th of last June.
In the evening, _Betty L――――_, about ten years old, was much concerned
for one of the little ones, who had stole something. When ♦they went to
bed, not knowing they were overheard, thy began to converse freely; and
_Betty L――――_ said, “Let us go to prayer for _H――――_’s soul.” She then
prayed in a very affecting manner, afterwards one about eight, prayed,
pleading much for _H――――_, and added, “Lord, don’t let us so think
of her sin, as to forget our own. Lord don’t let us laugh and trifle,
and talk of foolish things when we come off our knees, but make us
Christians.” One of them then thanked God, for their “good corrections,
and teaching,” and said “Lord, if we are not Christians, we shall be
more punished than others.” When they had done, _Nancy Tripp_ went
in to undress them. She first went to prayer with them as usual, and
the spirit of conviction fell on _Betty L――――_ in a very uncommon
manner. We came up and found her in an exceeding great agony: she
was the very picture of terror. The veins of her neck were as if they
would burst. She wrung her hands, and cried with a bitter cry, “O my
sins!” I believe more than an hundred times. She then broke out into
such a confession of her original sin, and heart sins, as was quite
astonishing: adding, “O! I have never done any thing for _thee_ in
my whole life. I have broke all thy laws, I have kept the devil’s
commandments; I have kept none of thy commandments. May such a wretch
come to the Lord? Wilt thou receive me? Wilt thou pardon me? Wilt thou
make me a Christian? Tell me, Lord, shall I go to heaven or hell? Shall
I go to heaven or hell, Lord? O tell me! Shall I go to heaven or hell?
Wilt thou make me a Christian? Wilt thou forgive me?” She then paused
a little, and added, “But _wilt_ thou, Lord? Yes, he will, he will.
But wilt thou Lord? Yes, thou wilt, thou wilt.” Mr. _Dornford_ then
gave out an hymn. She now seemed quite calm: the horror which before
appeared in her countenance was gone, and had left a sweet smile.
Her attention seemed quite fixt. And after remaining some time with
her eyes upward, she said, “Jesus is smiling upon me.” She had at the
same time a sight of him as upon the cross, saying, “I have pardoned
all your sins; and if you pray, I will give you abundant love.” After
she had sat silent a while, she broke out, “O what a sweet Saviour he
is! He has forgiven me all my sins――All, all. Lord, thou wilt, thou
hast forgiven me.――O let them be perfectly forgiven! But shall I ever
sin again, Lord? O don’t let me sin again.” Some time after, she said,
“O what a sweet Saviour thou art! What sweet love is thine! O for more
such love, more such love as thine! But don’t let me sin again! Fill me
with love, that I may never sin again!”
♦ “thy” replaced with “they” per Errata
This scene was striking: but it was nothing to the change that followed.
She was of a far worse natural temper, then any of the children: but
now it might indeed be said, “Love made her willing heart in swift
obedience move.” So great was the change both in will and understanding,
as plainly declared the hand that wrought it.
We sometimes hope, several of them will chuse to be entirely devoted
to God. If so, they may continue together when they grow up, each
following such an employment as she is fit for, and all throwing the
produce of their labour into a common stock, and may not God be pleased
to call some young women, not brought up with us, who have a desire to
devote themselves wholly to God, to cast in their lot with us? Perhaps
some who do not want, may be glad to get out of the hurry of the world,
at least for a season, that the tender flame may not be put out, nor
any unhallowed fires mix with it. How much is something of this kind
wanted? A place of refuge for the weak and unexperienced? How often do
we see those who are just setting out in the good way, either wholly
turned aside, or at least persuaded to take up with a lower way, than
the Spirit of God at first pointed out?
But if ever this design be brought to perfection, it is God only that
must chuse the persons, and bring us together, as it is he only that
_maketh men to be of one mind in an house_. And whosoever comes to us,
must desire to be conformed to their crucified head. We can promise
them only _poverty_, _labour_ and _sorrow_, the inward and outward
cross. But when they embrace this with their whole hearts, they
assuredly experience, that in poverty is riches, in labour ease, and
in sorrow constant rejoicing.
All this is in the hand of my God, as also another thought I had,
concerning aged widows. But so exceeding great is his faithfulness,
that I know not how to despair of any thing. A few of the many
instances hereof, which we have received, you must give me leave to
mention.
I have been always led, since I had any work of God upon my soul,
to walk by faith in outward things as well as inward. Hence I have
frequently, when an object of distress presented, gone beyond my income,
believing God would make it up in the time of need. In this confidence,
I received four or five more children, though I had nothing in hand,
and more bedding and cloaths were to be bought immediately. For this we
wanted two guineas directly. Some friends sending us word, they would
call on such a day; my friend prayed, that God would put it into their
hearts to help us. They came, and one of them put two guineas into my
hand. We praised the Lord, and received it as a token for good.