account you give me. You have been very happy indeed; and it seems to
me that God gave you this happiness as preparatory to the trials, which
were to ensue. And if you should after this goodness of God towards you,
grieve his holy Spirit, by suffering your heart to indulge any temper,
which you know to be contrary to his will, what words would be strong
enough to paint your black ingratitude? I will deal plainly with you. I
think you are now in a most dangerous situation. Every thing around you
will conspire to tempt you to the sin which most easily besets you, and
therefore you must not be _one moment_ off your guard. You must pray
without ceasing, even in the fullest sense of the words and constantly
strive to have strongly painted in your imagination _Jesus Christ_, and
him _crucified_. There is nothing I think more tends to humble us, than
the consideration of the sufferings of Christ. When you find yourself
going to say or do any thing with a view to praise, think, this temper,
this vanity of mine added to the weight of my Saviour’s sufferings,
and made more _bitter_ his cup of _bitterness_. Oh, if you had a soul
capable of feeling, if you have one spark of gratitude, can you think
this, and sin? Was you now standing on _Mount Calvary_ near the cross
of the blessed Jesus (suppose the dreadful deed was but now performing)
and you saw the Redeemer of the world just nailed to his cross, say,
would you help to drive the nails still deeper? Would you press the
thorns closer to his sacred temples? Would you help to increase that
load, which made him cry out, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me?” Does not your soul shudder at the thought? O my friend would you
not rather die, gladly die, for this your suffering Lord? Would you
not gladly be cut in ten thousand pieces to save him one pang? I know
you would. And will you not strive against that sin, which increased
his sufferings? Will you not strive, my love?――Yes, sure you will.
Is not every thing we can give up by far too small a return for what
the Redeemer has done for us? And shall we not give this little?
Above all shall we not give up what most of all separates us from him,
our _self-love_, and _self-seeking_? Think my friend when any one is
hinting to you, how extraordinary you are――“this person is ignorantly
driving me from my Saviour.” And if you should, which God forbid, find
yourself tempted to indulge a vain complacency in their applause, think
immediately how their praise would be turned into contempt, did they
know your heart as it really is, and blush for thus deceiving them.
Recollect some of the mean motives which perhaps have been the springs
of some of your most admired words and actions, and let your soul
within you be humbled to the dust. And my dear, I beg you will be
careful how you draw praise upon yourself by praising others. This is
what I am very apt to fall into; and therefore I am the more sensible
of its hurtfulness. And beware how you suffer yourself to attempt
explaining nice points of doctrine, unless it is evident there will
be good done by it, and then you may hope God will preserve you from
the pride, which generally accompanies this display of the capacity.
May you constantly walk in the light of God’s countenance, and go on
conquering, and to conquer!
* * * * *
I AM glad, my dear friend, that your visit to **** has been of such
benefit to you; and I pray God to continue it to your soul, and not to
suffer these impressions to wear off. Temptations doubtless will attend
every situation we are in; but the soul that rests secure in the love
of God will easily conquer them. I wish you may find more and more
benefit from the church prayers: they are for human compositions very
excellent, and I belief the best form of prayers that ever was put
together. I cannot reproach you for that which God has pardoned, but
you certainly ought now to be more watchful, that you fall not again;
for then great indeed would be your condemnation. The danger which
may accrue to you by going to Miss **** will I find be known to you
by experience only. She is certainly a good creature herself, and I
love her, but there is a spirit ♦haunts her absolutely contrary to the
spirit I am seeking after. She is not capable, my dear, of watching
your words with any ill design. Her only view is to find out your
errors. And if possible cure you of them. I doubt not but if you could
converse with her alone, and keep clear of disputes, she might be of
great use to you, and I hope God will bless this and every other means
to the good of your soul. The most excellent people in the world will
be of little avail, unless his Spirit assists, and with this there is
nothing so weak or mean, but what may tend to increase his love in our
hearts. *For my own part, silence and solitude seem at present best for
me, and I am more hurt by some religious people, whom I converse with,
than by the people of the world. Indeed there is scarce any, who does
not in some measure hurt me, except Mr. ****. Numberless are the snares
that lie in our way to the heavenly kingdom. ’Tis truly a warfare, and
a very difficult one, but the crown that awaits us at the end, is well
worth the striving for, even unto blood. Besides the encouragements and
comforts we find in the way are glorious: sure I am that _Alexander_
never found such joy in all his conquests, as the soul that presses
after the footsteps of Christ does in one conquest over self-will.
There is more delight in suffering for God, than in reigning with
the world. To clasp the cross of Christ close to the heart is more
happiness than angels can give; and what inexpressible satisfaction
is it to a soul, whose every faculty loves its Redeemer, to cry out,
Give me to feel thine agonies,
One drop of thy sad cup afford;
I fain with thee would sympathize,
And share the sufferings of my Lord.
♦ “haunts” replaced with “haunts her” per Errata
*Oh God of unspeakable mercy, unbounded love, how little is all we can
do or suffer for thee! Oh that we might not have a thought, nor even
a pulse beat, but for our God! What is all that earth or heaven itself
can give in comparison of thee? Oh uncreated beauty, how does every
other excellence fade away at thy presence! How does a taste of thy
love make every other love insipid! And a ray of thy light darken the
brightest of created Beings! Oh when, when shall our souls be wholly
swallowed up in thee! When shall we know thee even also as we are
known! Thou knowest the desire of our hearts. Thou seest how our souls
stretch, and pant after thee, even to fainting! Oh give us to drink of
the waters of life, even in this our pilgrimage, until we come to drink
freely of them from that river, which proceedeth out of the throne of
God, and of the Lamb for ever and ever. _Amen_, Lord Jesus.
* * * * *
_My beloved friend_,
I HAVE been admiring the goodness of God to you, in ordering your
being at _L****_ at a time, when it must, instead of being hurtful, be
profitable to your soul. The attending the sick bed of a dear relation
in danger of death, is a most glorious time for exercising a number
of Christian graces. Such a scene as this keeps the mind in a most
proper temper, humble, recollected, serious; and in your particular
circumstances, this illness of **** has freed you from most of the
snares you apprehended. How does every thing work together for good
to those who love God! And how ungrateful is that heart, which does
not strive more and more to love him in deed and in truth! What, my
love, are the inward temptations you complain of, and what are those
unaccountable scruples? The best thing you can do is not to argue about
them in your own mind, but immediately fly to prayer; and if you cannot
pray, only wish earnestly to pray. *’Tis right, that you should think
yourself the vilest creature breathing, and I am every day more and
more convinced, that every soul which really loves God must necessarily
in its own particular think the same: and in whatever proportion the
love of God increases in the soul, in the same proportion will the
sense of its own vileness and helplessness increase, till at last it
is in a manner annihilated before God. This is a point which the wisdom
of the world cannot understand, and which no scheme of doctrine can
teach the heart; but when we truly know Jesus Christ crucified, then
we can truly cry out, What! _to me_ such love? to the vilest and most
ungrateful of all creatures? O whence such love to me?
I grieve for the sin you fell into. Had the temper of your mind been
really charitable, you certainly could not lightly have spoken evil
of any one. Nothing is more contrary to the true spirit of the gospel,
than this want of universal love. And yet there is nothing so common
even among those who in most other respects are unblameable. How ought
we every moment to watch! Oh when shall we indeed be renewed after the
image of Christ! _Adieu._
* * * * *
WHAT, my dear companion, can I write so animating as your present
circumstances? God seems, I think, in a most peculiar manner to watch
over your soul for good. What interesting, what heart-affecting scenes
have you gone through? The account I had of your **** death, has made
me see the goodness of God to you in the strongest light, and I am
ready to shudder, when I think that it is possible, even after all this,
that you should again be ungrateful. Oh watch every moment! Think what
horrors and agonies you must feel, if you should now suffer your heart
to turn aside from this tender and merciful God! The circumstances you
are now in are like five talents given to your care. Remember ♦you are
to gain with them five talents more, or expect to hear these dreadful
words――_Thou slothful and wicked servant_. Your heavenly Father seems
to be making a plain way before your face. I see you in a light almost
_prophetical_. I rejoice, and yet I tremble. You seem pointed out, I
think, as an instrument in the hands of God for the conversion of Miss
****; but here you will be in danger from your old enemies, pride, and
love of teaching, and above all that self-setting-up which you have
found so difficult to overcome. O my dear love, fail not every hour
of the day to pray particularly for humility. I trust you are not in
danger from any increase of fortune. No surely. The heart of my beloved
friend cannot be so mean and low, as to pride itself in dross and
dirt. Perhaps you will find some difficulties in regard to the tempers
of your ****; how necessary will it be for you in this case to place
constantly before your eyes the meekness and lowliness of the Lamb of
God? And fear not, you will in all these things be more than conqueror
through him, who has loved you.
♦ “your” replaced with “you”
* * * * *
I PITY you, my dear friend; I saw yesterday that your head was full,
and your heart not so warm towards God as it sometimes is. Oh when
shall we be free from these distractions? Or rather when shall our love
to our Redeemer be so intense, that our hearts may be constantly fixed
on him, and we (as it were) walk through the fire without being burnt?
*I remember having sometimes said to you the beginning of last summer,
“There is more a vast deal in faith than we all imagine;” and though,
thanks to the free grace of God, we both know more of faith now,
than we did at that time, yet I may still repeat the saying, and may
continue to repeat it, till our eyes are fully opened in eternity. “All
things are possible to him that believeth,” said the God of truth; and
why then do not you and I conquer all sin? Because _we do not believe_.
The unbounded riches of the grace of God in Christ Jesus are hardly
more astonishing, than the perverseness of that soul, which will not
fully trust in them. Christ stands ever ready to save to the uttermost,
if we will but believe, that he can, and will do it; and we draw back
and shrink from his redeeming hand. We suffer the dark clouds of our
fallen nature to obscure the glorious light of the promises of God.
And though our heads may be fully convinced of their truth, and we may
have some desires of attaining them, yet there is in the centre of our
souls an hidden root of unbelief, which just as we are going to lay
hold on the prize, whispers――“How can these things be?” and then we
sink. I have heard it observed of the eagle, that she holds her young
ones full against the bright beams of the mid day sun: if they behold
it stedfastly, she nourishes them, but if they turn away their heads
or shut their eyes, she dashes them to the ground. There is something
very striking in this. A nominal believer, who makes a profession
of holiness, has all the outward marks of a true believer, as these
dastard eagles have of the others; but he cannot look stedfastly at
the glorious beams of the Sun of Righteousness: and how dreadful is the
consequence? Oh my love, how ought we to watch and pray! How careful
ought we to be not to lose sight for one moment of our immaterial sun,
lest the eye of our minds should by that means contract a dimness and
weakness, which might render us incapable of stedfastly beholding him,
when he shall appear in all the fulness of his glory. May the God of
mercy preserve you in all temptations, and be your portion in time and
in eternity.
* * * * *
_My dear Friend_,
I PRAISE God with my whole heart for your happiness and strength, and
I pray him to increase it every moment. O may that blessed peace never
leave your soul: it is eternal life begun, and ten thousands laid in
the balance with this peace would be all lighter than vanity. It is a
glorious sign, that in outward troubles, or inward temptations, you can
leave the means of your deliverance intirely to God, without suffering
your imagination to run out after the manner in which you probably may
be delivered. O that we could always venture ourselves upon the mercies
of our God! Then would he indeed work wonders for us――wonders which we
now can scarce believe, though the God of truth himself declares them
unto us. And this God will surely keep you in the dangers to which
you are going to be exposed, if you will be watchful to keep the eye
of your mind constantly turned towards him, and wait and hang upon
him, as a little child on its fond parent, drawing all your help, all
your comfort from him, and him alone. If you have but little outward
retirement, shut more closely the door of your heart, and there in
its inmost recesses commune with your God, and Redeemer, there be
continually crying unto him――Lord thou knowest all things, thou
knowest that I love thee; thou knowest, O life and joy of my soul,
that I desire nothing but to do thy perfect will, and to be conformed
to the likeness of thy sufferings, as well as to the likeness of thy
resurrection. Oh crucify in me the whole body of sin! Give me an humble,
a mortified, and child-like spirit, and in thine own good time perfect
the work thou hast begun in my soul.
As to examples which are not good, I hope I may say, that all the
effect they can have upon my beloved friend (in her present happy state
of mind) will be to drive her nearer to her God, and in that nearness
what comfort does the believing soul find?
What tho’ earth and hell engage
To shake that soul with fear;
Calmly it defies the rage
Of persecution near.
Suffering faith shall brighter grow,
As gold when in the furnace tried:
Only Jesus will we know,
And Jesus crucified.
Yes, my love, let those who stile themselves our best friends
join with the world in calling us _mopes_ and _enthusiasts_. Still
stedfastly fixed on the rock which cannot be moved, we will endure,
nay joyfully take up the reproach for his sake, who hid not his blessed
face from shame and spitting for our sakes, to make us (accursed and
lost creatures) heirs of eternal glory. Oh that his strength may but
accompany us, and the light of his countenance continually abide with
us; and then we shall not fail to go on conquering and to conquer.
_Amen._
For God’s sake avoid disputes of all kinds. I was delighted the last
time you was with me, to observe that you was greatly altered for the
better in this respect. Think not that I will omit to pray for you, and
fail not to pray for me. Oh my friend, soon will time be swallowed up
in eternity.
* * * * *
I READILY believe you, my dear friend, that you have not brought back
the same heart you carried with you: for I thought I discovered the
two last times I saw you, a falling off from the grace you had, and
the happy state of mind you had been in; but for God’s sake strive
to recover yourself before you are sunk lower. Think how dreadful
your case will be, if you should so grieve the Spirit of God, as to
cause him to depart from you. I know your heart to be ungrateful and
deceitful, and you yourself know full well how much it is so; but fear
not to search into its most hidden corruptions. Was it ten times more
vile and polluted than it is, the blood of Jesus is all-sufficient to
cleanse it. And my dear soul, let me intreat of you earnestly to seek
after a clear and constant sense of the pardoning love of God. This
only can enable you to trample all temptations under your feet: believe
me, unless you really walk in the light of his countenance, you never
can conquer all the powers and works of darkness. Oh seek the peace
which passes all understanding. You have need enough of it, I am sure,
considering the many snares you walk in. I really fear you do not
diligently seek after God: ’tis very certain they that seek shall find;
and therefore that the Redeemer is not fully manifested in your soul is
entirely owing to your sloth and negligence. How is it possible for you
to keep your ground against temptations which are continually striking
upon your senses, unless you have _in_ you the substance of things
hoped for, the evidence of things not seen? When our understandings
are clear in gospel doctrines, we are too apt to imagine our hearts
are so. My dear friend, for God’s sake deceive not yourself. Oh suffer
not your soul to rest, till you can say with full assurance of faith,
“My sins are forgiven.” Depend upon it this is the first step in true
Christianity. Oh cry to God every moment from the bottom of your heart,
and he will do more for you, than you can either ask or think. I am a
witness of his free and boundless mercy. For some days past I have been
in the wilderness, my soul weary, faint, and desolate; no rejoicing in
God; not one ray from the Sun of Righteousness: but this morning, this
blessed morning, my Beloved returned to my soul, and I rejoiced with
joy unspeakable, and could say with the fullest assurance, “My sins are
done away――Christ is mine――God the Father is my reconciled Father――God
the Holy Ghost is my comforter and guide.” *Oh my friend, my heart is
now so overwhelmed I can scarce write. I could repeat a thousand and
a thousand times over――_Christ is mine_. My soul is ready to spring
out of its prison, and I could at this moment face death in all its
horrible prospects to go to my Redeemer. Oh death, where is thy sting?
O grave, where is thy victory? My dear love, you know not what you
lose by your negligence. O seek, strive, agonize; could you suffer the
utmost tortures in body or mind, they would be all as nothing to gain
one moment of this sweetness: and Oh pray for me, that I may not by
sinning grieve the blessed Comforter, and lose my present peace. God
be with you my dear friend. God bless you both now and for ever.
* * * * *
_My dear friend_,
I MOURN for you, and may you mourn too from your very inmost soul, till
God himself gives you the true comfort. Oh thou dear backslider, what
shall I say? How shall I find words strong enough to make a lasting
impression on a heart so inconstant, so slothful, and careless? Oh
that the Spirit of God would assist my weak endeavours, and point my
otherwise unavailing words! You own you do not strive earnestly: alas I
too plainly see you do not. But the blessed Comforter strives with you,
and still you resist and grieve him. How irksome is it to me always to
write the same thing? My dear soul, for God’s sake be more in earnest.
How can you talk of sloth and carelessness, when you are standing on
the brink of a precipice? Can you promise yourself another day? And are
you fit to die in the state you are now in? Nay, are you not afraid to
die? Oh if the Lord should say of you, as of the barren fig-tree, “Cut
it down, why cumbereth it the ground,” how would you be overwhelmed
with dread and confusion? For you who know so well what are the
glorious promises of the gospel, to suffer your thoughts to run upon
worldly things is inexcusable. It seems strange, that you should think
you love Christ more than you did, when you was in a better state;
however above all things hold fast, and strive to increase this love,
but then at the same time take care that you hate sin in the same
proportion, and that you strive against it with the utmost earnestness:
for to talk of loving Christ, and at the same time to give way to sloth,
carelessness, and worldly-mindedness, is an abominable mockery. If
you are encompassed with ten thousand temptations never fear, so your
own heart consent not to them. Your blessed Master will surely help
you, if you can but trust him: and never give way, to that _seeming_
impossibility of praying. Though perhaps you cannot pray with comfort,
or with any kind of connection, yet if you be ever so distracted you
may surely cry, Lord, have mercy upon me――Jesus, pity me. Or even
supposing you could not do this from your heart, ask yourself whether
you do not desire to pray; and if you do, thank God for that desire,
and the next thought will be prayer. Could you not make the increase of
your family profitable, by joining at stated times of the day in some
act of devotion? If it were but for one quarter of an hour at a time,
there would doubtless be a blessing attending it. Suppose you were
to sing an hymn together, or by turns pray, either from some form of
prayer, or what would be better, extempore. You ought rather to be
silent, and be thought a mope, than to join in trifling discourse.
Consider, my love, you are to set an example to your young friends; and
fear not but God will deliver you from this bondage into the glorious
liberty of his children. The feeble trust you now have is the work of
his blessed Spirit, and he will increase it into an holy confidence.
Let not therefore your comfort sicken, but trust in that Jesus, who
died that you might live; to whose all-merciful bosom I commit you,
_And am your affectionate Friend_, &c.
* * * * *
_My dear Friend_,
I HOPE your present circumstances do not prevent your constant watching
over your own heart, and pressing forward in the way of holiness. In
the midst of all these prospects death may come! And are you fit to
die? We cannot too often ask ourselves this question. We cannot be
too serious. There is only a moment between us and eternity. May the
Lord Jesus so prepare us, that at whatever hour he calls we may be
ready, our lamps trimmed, and we ourselves as those who wait for the
bridegroom. Adieu, my dear. May the Almighty preserve you from all evil.
* * * * *
OF what service, my dear love, can any thing I say be of to you? I
have tried all means in my power to keep your mind more steady but
in vain. If God has at any time so blessed my letters, that they have
made any impression on you it has gone off in two or three days: and
when you have had those great benefits indeed of conversing with living
Christians, though for a time you have been raised and lively, yet
you have soon sunk into your former sloth and carelessness. There must
certainly be some hidden corruption in your heart, which causes this
inconstancy. I often study you as I would a book, but you are in truth
one of the most puzzling books I ever met with. I often rejoice to see
in you (as I think) an increase of grace, and a decrease of that pride
and selfishness, which under an appearance of humility you once had to
a great degree. The last time you was with me, I thought you greatly
advanced; and now you are fallen again into pride and selfishness. The
Lord Jesus raise you up. Indeed, my dear soul, you grieve and wound me.
You bring sorrow in my heart, and tears in my eyes: nay and sometimes
your letters tempt me to impatience; but then I immediately recollect
my own continual backslidings, and the long-suffering of God towards
me, and can I be impatient with my friend? If your want of retirement
is not owing to yourself, never lay your coldness upon that: for was
your heart sincere, God would strengthen you at all times to look up
to him. But if as you say, you trifled away your time, and indulged an
unwillingness to prayer, no wonder God with-held that portion of his
grace he would otherwise have given you. Depend upon it, whenever you
find an unwillingness to pray, that of all times is the most proper
for you to pray in; therefore never say on such an occasion, “I will go
read some good book, or do some good work, which may perhaps bring my
mind into a better frame for prayer.” No, do not so foolishly; but go,
and prostrate yourself before God with all your unwillingness; and he
will soon give you both the will and the power to praise him. _Amen._
* * * * *
_My dear Friend_,