YOUR last letter gave me great pleasure: I sincerely rejoice in the

happiness of your soul, as in that of my own, and I hope God will

strengthen you more and more by his grace, so that you may forsake

every thing for him. Above all, sacrifice your own will: let this

constantly be the language of your heart, “Lord, not my will, but

thine be done.” Strive not only to be content, but to rejoice in every

thing that mortifies your corrupt nature. Hourly reflect, that you are

a fallen creature, sent into this world for no other end than to be

restored to that nature which our first father lost, and so be made fit

for the kingdom of heaven. Remember, that Christ died for you, that you

might live wholly to him; and the more you do this, the more you will

certainly have of that peace which passeth all understanding.

_I am your ever affectionate friend_,

****

_September 16, 1755._

* * * * *

_My dear friend_,

I HAVE read Mr. _B._’s letter, and think it exceedingly pretty;

the stile is easy and flowing, the language soft and affecting,

the sentiments he expresses, in regard to his friend and yourself,

very beautiful. But what is all this to the purpose? Or how can this

convince you, that you ought to give up those means of grace which you

have found so extremely beneficial to your soul, in order to make a

proper wife for Mr. _C._? ’Tis true, there are several assertions in

Mr. _B._’s letter, designed to shew the reasonableness of your making

the promise; but asserting and proving are two things. Whatever has

the appearance of argument in this letter may, I imagine, be reduced

to these heads: _1st._ That it is absolutely wrong for any member of

the church of _England_ to attend the meetings of separatists. _2dly._

That in the church of _England_, a soul may find every thing necessary

for its attaining the highest degrees of faith and holiness. _3dly._

That Mr. _W._ is a separatist: and _4thly._ That your having any

acquaintance with him, will hurt Mr. _C._ both in his temporal interest,

and in his character as a minister.――The opinion I had conceived of

Mr. _B._ was very high, I imagined him actuated by that spirit of

_universal love_, which is the first and ruling principle of every

soul that is born of God; and I make no doubt but this is his _real_

character: however (in this affair) he may _seem_ to incline to a

_partial selfish_ orthodoxy. *Could the church of _England_ be proved

to be the _only church_ of _Christ_, there might be some reason for

the cry of schism, which we hear so much of: but what is she, more

than one of the most unexceptionable of those many divisions into which

the universal church is broken? And therefore a separation from her,

though causeless, or from mistaken motives, cannot properly be called

making a schism in the _church_ of _Christ_. For my part (but I speak

it with submission to Mr. _B._’s judgment) I apprehend, that the only

_real_ and dangerous schism is the want of that spirit of love, which

makes us rejoice in whatever is good and excellent in people of all

denominations, and ready to believe good even of those who most differ

from _us_ in ceremonies and opinion. And why a person of this spirit

(suppose one in communion with the church of _England_) may not be

allowed sometimes to hear a minister among the _Presbyterians_, or any

other sect, if they find this minister’s preaching blest to their souls,

I cannot imagine. What St. _Paul_ says in regard to giving offence to

weak brethren, is often quoted to prove what it has nothing to do with;

for St. _Paul_ surely does not mean, that he neglected those things

which were profitable to _his soul_, for fear of giving offence to

the weak; but that he refrained from outward things (such as making

difference in meats, &c.) which he, as strong in faith, knew to be

wholly indifferent, lest his example should tempt those who were weak

to do things by which their consciences might be wounded.――As to Mr.

_B._’s second argument, _in one sense_ of it, I heartily agree with

him: the homilies, the articles, and liturgy of the church of _England_,

doubtless contain all the doctrines necessary to faith and holiness.

But, alas, how little are these doctrines regarded either in preaching

or practice, by the generality of her ministers! Let any one who has

the least degree of seriousness, look round the churches of _London_.

Will he not see the people for the most part repeating an excellent set

of prayers, just as a parrot repeats a song; and the minister giving

forth doctrines from the pulpit, as directly contrary to these prayers

as darkness is to light? This is so plain a matter of fact, that

it cannot be contradicted; and it is _as_ notorious, that whenever

any minister in the church of _England_ begins to preach her _real_

doctrines, and live up to her precepts, he is immediately called a

_Methodist_. This name is given to him as a reproach. But as it comes

upon him for speaking the truth, it is in fact a glory. Ever since

Christ was upon the earth, _real_ Christians have had a nick-name: but

surely no one who is sincerely bent to follow him can regard this: I

doubt not but Mr. _B._ himself is called a _Methodist_. But I now come

to Mr. _B._’s third argument, that most dreadful charge laid against Mr.

_W._ that _he is a separatist_. This charge has been repeated over and

over again, but has never yet been clearly proved. If four walls, with

a steeple and bells, was the church of _England_, Mr. _W._ might with

some shadow of reason be said to have separated from it, because he

seldom preaches in these places: but _this_ is no fault of his, for he

will gladly preach in any of them, when their respective ministers will

let him. And he was never denied preaching in what is called a church,

till he strongly insisted on _that doctrine_ for which the martyrs

of the reformation laid down their lives, and which is the very

fundamental doctrine of the church of _England_, _justification by

faith_. Any one who would read Mr. _W._’s _Appeals_ with a sincere and

impartial spirit, would I believe be fully convinced, that this charge

against him could not stand.――As to the hurt your being acquainted with

Mr. _W._ might do to Mr. _C._ in his temporal interest, it depends

entirely upon himself. If he preaches to his people _smooth_ things,

and prophesies _deceits_; if he joins with them in their _innocent

amusements_, which _lull_ souls asleep, and keeps them in an utter

ignorance of their _fall_ and their _redemption_, till they awake in

a miserable eternity: go _you_ where you will, not a dog will move

its tongue against him, nor will the generosity of his parishioners be

in the least abated towards him; and all they say of him will _only_

be, _poor man_! what pity that such a good-natured good sort of a man

should have such a sad wife. But do I think Mr. _C._ will act in this

manner? _No_, certainly I _do not_. I verily believe, from what you

yourself have said of him, that he intends to prove himself a true

minister of Christ, that he will _boldly_ and _earnestly_ call sinners

to repentance, and that his life and conversation will be wholly

agreeable to his preaching. And if this is the case, though you were

never to see Mr. _W._ again, Mr. _C._ would be called a _Methodist_,

the greatest part of his parishioners would cry out against him, and in

all probability their generosity towards him would greatly decrease. So

that consider the affair in what light you will, your being acquainted

with Mr. _W._ cannot materially hurt Mr. _C._ And as to the objection

of this acquaintance casting a reproach on your husband’s ministry,

’tis quite _needless_; for it is not to be supposed, if Mr. _C._ be the

man you can approve of for a husband, that you will leave his church

when he himself preaches, to go after any other minister whatever.

And whatever you may do at this time at proper opportunities, will I

doubt not be so guided by _Christian_ prudence, that he, as a good and

pious man, cannot reasonably object to it. But at present you and Mr.

_C._ know very little of each other, and he certainly had no right

to propose such terms as these to you, till he had given you frequent

opportunities of judging, whether his heart and sentiments were such

as you could entirely approve of. For my part, by the little I can

judge in this affair, I believe him to be a good and a sincere man, and

I heartily wish him happy, and _that with you_, if it can be brought

about without your doing any thing to wound your conscience. In the

mean time, whether this affair is ever concluded upon or not, frequent

conversing together in the spirit of Christianity, may be a blessing to

both. And how is it possible for you to give a direct answer to a man,

till you are in some measure acquainted with him, and can judge of his

temper and dispositions? I was quite delighted with the softness and

affection for you with which your pappa mentioned this affair to me

last night. If you say any thing of my writing to you, give my respects

to him and your mamma, with love to Miss _B._ and believe me

_Your faithful_,

****

* * * * *

To Mr. ****.

_My dear ****_,

JOIN with me in praising the free grace and mercy of God, which has so

wonderfully displayed it self in your soul! I don’t know whether your

letter most astonished or delighted me; but this I am sure of, that I

don’t know how enough to express my thankfulness to God in your behalf.

The means so weak too! Nothing but a book put into your hands, which

thousands might have read without regarding it. No examples of vital

religion, no one to urge or encourage you to seek redemption! But

the Almighty can indeed work by the weakest means, and the poorest

instruments; nothing is too hard for the Lord: and Oh may he perfect

the work he has begun!――Oh gracious and ever-blessed Redeemer, continue

thy mercy to this brother of my soul; convince him more and more of

the dreadful state he is in by nature, and the absolute necessity

of justification by faith alone! Oh justify him freely; grant him

redemption through thy blood, the forgiveness of sins: Fill him with

all peace and joy in believing, and give him to go on in thy strength,

till he arrives at that fulness of faith here, and in the end to thy

eternal glory hereafter, which thou hast purchased for those who love

thee! _Amen, Amen._

I rejoice in your desiring to receive the sacrament. The only

preparation required of us is repentance, faith, and love――love to

God and all mankind. I have wrote out a little catalogue of books

which I make my constant study, and which I hope will be yours; always

remembring, that the Bible is to be esteemed by us infinitely beyond

any human compositions. Other books I shall occasionally recommend

to you, as they benefit my own mind, or are proper for the state of

yours.――As to forms of prayer in private, you have no occasion for them.

Pray from your own heart. There is no need of elegance of expression,

to make a prayer acceptable to God. The desire of the heart is its

prayer; and that once sincerely turned to God, will certainly receive

an answer of peace. When you first awake, strive to fix your mind

immediately on God: let the first book you open be the _New Testament_.

There read, not several chapters, but just so much as you find will

be food sufficient for present meditation. If the first verse you read

particularly affects you, don’t read further, but close the book, and

let that verse have its full effect on your mind. When you fall on your

knees before the Almighty, recollect the dangers and temptations you

are most likely to fall into that day, and particularly pray to be kept

by the grace of God in each of them. Earnestly pray for power over the

sin which most easily besets you. But above all things, strive in your

morning and evening prayers to gain the most lively sense of your own

nothingness, nay to feel that you are even worse than nothing, that

you are by your fallen nature sold under sin, and deserving nothing at

the hand of God but eternal punishment. And when your mind is deeply

impressed with this consideration, then look to the Lamb of God, who

taketh away the sins of the world. There see the power by which your

fallen nature may be restored: there see the blood by which you are

cleansed from all sin: there see the full redemption purchased for

you, and strain every faculty of your soul eagerly to lay hold on this

redemption: and be assured that the eternal Spirit of God will assist

you in these your prayers. The Spirit itself, says St. _Paul_, maketh

intercession for us.――In the course of the ensuing day, and in all

occurrences, strive to keep your heart in a state of prayer, always

ready to be lifted up to God; and this, even in the hurry of business,

may be done, and no one be sensible of it except yourself. And be sure,

my dear, never to omit making use of any opportunity of doing good

which falls in your way, either to the bodies or souls of your fellow

creatures.――At night follow the same rule as in the morning; only

examining, before you beg the protection of God for the night, every

action of the past day: what good you have done, what left undone, what

faults you have been guilty of, what mercies you have received, and

accordingly address yourself to the father of mercy.

I have time to say no more at present. Continue to write to me, and

fail not to pray for

_Your ever-affectionate_

****

_December 22, 1753._

* * * * *

_January 7, 1754._

I RETURN my dearest **** thanks for his last letter; the satisfaction

which it and the conversation we had together on Saturday gave me, is

inexpressible. Oh may you, by the assisting grace of God, continue in

the happy way you are now in, and still press forward to higher degrees

of faith and love. But, my dear, you must not think too highly of

me; I am one of the most unworthy objects of the free mercy of God. I

stand more, perhaps, in need of your prayers than you of mine; you must

_too_ pray for me, and we must both strive to strengthen each other.

I should be glad to know whether you, last night, notwithstanding

the disagreeable manner of the preacher, received any comfort and

satisfaction from what he said: I own I did; his words (under all these

disadvantages) raised and strengthened _me_ in a remarkable manner.

I wish it had been the same with you all; but your expectations were

so highly raised by the name of ****, that an angel would hardly have

satisfied them: and thus shall we be always disappointed, if we look

more at man than God. The most famous preacher, let his eloquence, his

manner, his doctrine, be ever so near perfection, can never make the

soul taste the words of salvation, unless the Spirit of God accompanies

and inforces his preaching. And the same blessed Spirit can make the

words of the meanest, the most despicable preacher of the gospel,

effectual to awaken, to convince, and to comfort. But in order to our

reaping these benefits, we must hear with _singleness_ of intention;

not seeking to have our outward ears and eyes delighted, but desiring

the _sincere_ milk of the word, to nourish and strengthen our souls.

Would it not be the highest madness to throw away the _water_ of life,

because it was brought to us in an earthen vessel? _Solomon_ says,

“To the _hungry soul_ every bitter thing is _sweet_.” So to the soul

which really _hungers_ and _thirsts_ after _Christ_, the sound of

the _gospel_ of _peace_, (let the voice which proclaims it be _harsh_

or _soft_) will be _sweet indeed_. Oh may you and I, my dear ****,

always find it so to _us_! May that blessed Redeemer in whom we have

_peace_, be dearer to us than _light_, than _life_, than any thing we

can form to our imagination either _here_ or _hereafter_! In dangers,

in difficulties, in temptations, may we still look to him as our

defence, our deliverer, our strength. He is _all_ in _all_ throughout

the oracles of God, both in the _Old_ and _New Testament_: may he be

_all_ in _all_ to our _souls_; may we walk by his light, conquer by

his _strength_, and in the end be joyful partakers of that everlasting

felicity which he has prepared for those that love _him_. This is the

constant wish and prayer of,

_Your affectionate_

****

* * * * *

_Saturday the 17th._

I RECEIVED my dearest ****’s long letter, and have more and more reason

to be thankful to God on your account. Oh how my soul exults in your

happiness, in your increase in faith, and love to _Christ_!――Your

conversation with the captain delights me; no doubt but he rejoiced

over you――there _you_ see the true christian spirit. The advice he gave

you is excellent: Oh may we be both enabled to follow it! Those who

forsake all _for_ Christ, will certainly find all _in_ Christ.――As to

****, I would advise you to try first, to raise in him a _desire_ to

receive the sacrament, before you persuade him _to receive_ it; and be

earnest at the throne of grace on his behalf. All probable means are

to be made use of, but it is the _Spirit_ of God alone can convince of

sin.――I have been lately a good deal affected with the death of a lady

in this neighbourhood, who led what is called an innocent life. Mr.

**** attended her, and all his endeavours to convince her were in vain:

her answers were, “Though she had not made such a shew of religion as

_some others_, yet she had _done_ her duty.” This is the most fatal

delusion of all; this blindness is the most dreadful state in which a

soul can launch into eternity! Can you and I be ever enough thankful to

that God who has opened our eyes, to see the things which make for our

peace? Was our whole life to be one continued act of praise, it would

be nothing in comparison to the blessings we have received; nay, even

the eternity, which we shall spend in continual _praise_, is not enough

_fully_ to express all we owe to our _redeeming God――Redemption_,

how much is comprehended in this word! And how sweet does it sound

to a soul sensible of its wants! May that pathetic prayer my dear

**** has made for me be heard; then shall I experience that _fulness_

of redemption for which I long! Then shall I indeed be intirely dead

to the world and sin, and live only to Christ. All this unspeakable

happiness, I as sincerely wish to the brother of my soul as to myself;

_And am his truly affectionate_,

****

* * * * *

_Sunday Afternoon, March 10, 1754._

_My dear ****_,

LAST night after you were gone, I read your letter, and thought of what

you had told me with the greatest satisfaction. What reason have you to

be thankful, that God should at so early a time of your life convince

you of _sin_, and give you to _know_, that you have redemption through

Christ! How might you have plunged into all the follies and vices of

youth, and laid up a large stock for future and bitter repentance,

had not the free and unbounded grace of God displayed its power in

your soul! Oh continue earnestly to seek still more and more of the

_fulness_ of Christ. Think not because you have had a sense of the

_pardoning love_ of God, that you are to _rest here_: no, still seek

for fresh evidences of his love to your soul; press forward with

unwearied diligence towards the mark of the _high calling_ of God in

Christ Jesus; seek and _strive_ to gain the _abiding witness_ of the

_Spirit_; strive for that perfect renewal of heart by which you may

say, “’Tis no more I that live, but Christ liveth _in me_.”――You tell

me you was assaulted, some days after you had this dear sense of the

mercies of God in Christ Jesus, with doubts and fears. Whenever you are

attacked in this manner again, argue thus with yourself:――“This peace

and joy which I felt, this sense of forgiveness _seemed_ to me to be

the work of God upon my soul: but was it really so? Might not a warm

imagination deceive me, or might not the great enemy of souls transform

himself into an angel of light, in order to lull me into a fatal

security? But have I not an infallible rule to judge by, whether this

work was of God? What were the fruits it produced? Did I upon this grow

more careless and remiss? Was my mind puffed up with spiritual pride?

Did I allow myself liberties which before I was afraid to take?――Or

did I, on the contrary, watch still more diligently against the most

distant approaches of sin? Did I find increasing power over sins of the

heart, as well as outward sin? Did I find in me a _still_ deeper sense

of my own nothingness and the all-sufficiency of my Redeemer, and a

large increase of the love of God and all mankind? If these were the

happy fruits of this evidence, I have no cause to doubt this work _was

certainly_ of God.”

In this manner, my dear, if you will examine yourself, begging the

assistance of the blessed Spirit, to enable you to search every winding

and turning of your heart, you can never be deceived, and will always

be able by the shield of faith to repel all the fiery darts of the

devil. I thank you for your affectionate prayer for me (may God return

all those blessings double on your own head) and am,

_Your ever-affectionate friend_,

****

* * * * *

I DID not expect to see my dear **** on Saturday, for the weather was

so extremely bad, that I thought you would make the best of your way

to ****. I have read your letter with great pleasure, and hope you will

continue thus diligently to examine the state of your own mind: and

that on every examination you will find an increase of that “treasure

which never faileth.”――I rejoice that you have been happy enough to

suffer reproach for the sake of Christ, and more especially for the

grace given you to _suffer joyfully_. You may depend upon it that there

is the same real distinction between Christians and the world now,

that there was when our blessed Master said, “Because ye are not of

the world, therefore the world hateth you.” And how ought our hearts to

exult with praise and thanksgiving, when we can say _we_ are _not_ of

the _world_! What unspeakable happiness will it be for us to be found

(when our Redeemer comes to judgment) among those who were not ashamed

of him in this “adulterous and perverse generation!” Is any thing too

much to suffer, when animated by the hopes of having these glorious

words addressed to us, “Come ye blessed!”

I am now with my poor aunt ****, who is in great affliction for the

loss of poor Mrs. _C._ See my dear ****, *how little all that is

esteemed in this world avails, when God is pleased to lay his hand upon

us! Here was youth, beauty, riches, friends; but how, as in a moment,

was the possessor of all these cut off! And by a dreadful disease,

brought to be the companion of loathsome worms! Alas, how is that sweet

smile, which once sat upon her countenance, now changed to ghastliness!

How are her fine features and delicate complexion now become even

horrible to behold! Oh that some proud beauty would here stop, and

consider what she herself must one day assuredly be! And Oh that this

thought might strike me still with deeper seriousness, that she who was

my friend and confidant, even from my earliest youth; she whom I loved

with _more_ than a _sister_’s tenderness; is now――alas, where is now

her precious soul? Dearest Redeemer, thy grace is all-sufficient, and

thy mercies infinite! Is it not now rejoicing with thee? Were not all

those helps afforded her by thy boundless love, which, even to the last,

her ill-judging friends denied her? O had I but seen her rejoicing in

the love of God, and filled with the prospects of a blessed eternity,

how would my soul have joyed in her departure! How would my heart have

dilated itself with the glorious thought, that my friend was delivered

from the gilded snares that surrounded her, and gone to sure and

unbounded happiness! And even now I cannot doubt the mercies of my God;

surely we shall meet again, and join in eternal praises to the great

author of our salvation!

_I am, with all affection, your faithful friend_,

****

* * * * *

_My dearest ****_,

The works of the Rev. John Wesley, Vol. 13 (of 32) · 第 17 / 18 段