The Works of the Rev. John Wesley, M.A.
┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ │
│ Transcriber’s Notes │
│ │
│ │
│ Punctuation has been standardized. │
│ │
│ Most of the non-common abbreviations used to save space in │
│ printing have been expanded to the non-abbreviated form for │
│ easier reading. │
│ │
│ The author has used an asterisk (*) to indicate passages he │
│ considers most worthy of attention. │
│ │
│ The text is very inconsistent in its usage of quotation marks.│
│ The transcriber has attempted to make their use consistent │
│ throughout this work for improved readability. │
│ │
│ Characters in small caps have been replaced by all caps. │
│ │
│ Non-printable characteristics have been given the following │
│ Italic text: --> _text_ │
│ emphasized text within │
│ italics --> |text| │
│ │
│ This book was written in a period when many words had │
│ not become standardized in their spelling. Words may have │
│ multiple spelling variations or inconsistent hyphenation in │
│ the text. These have been left unchanged unless indicated │
│ with a Transcriber’s Note. │
│ │
│ The symbol ‘‡’ indicates the description in parenthesis has │
│ been added to an illustration. This may be needed if there │
│ is no caption or if the caption does not describe the image │
│ adequately. │
│ │
│ Footnotes are identified in the text with a superscript │
│ number and are shown immediately below the paragraph in which │
│ they appear. │
│ │
│ Transcriber’s Notes are used when making corrections to the │
│ text or to provide additional information for the modern │
│ reader. These notes are identified by ♦♠♥♣ symbols in the │
│ text and are shown immediately below the paragraph in which │
│ they appear. │
└────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
THE
WORKS
OF THE
Rev. JOHN WESLEY, M.A.
Late Fellow of _Lincoln-College_, OXFORD.
VOLUME XIV.
BRISTOL:
Printed by WILLIAM PINE, in _Wine-Street_.
MDCCLXXII.
THE
CONTENTS
Of the FOURTEENTH VOLUME.
⭘ _Extract of Mrs. L****’s Letters (continued.)_
⭘ _Meditations upon some texts of Scripture._
⭘ _Extracts from a Little Diary._
⭘ _Letters written by Jane Cooper._
⭘ _Some account of her life and death._
⭘ _Some account of the experience of E. J._
⭘ _An earnest Appeal to Men of Reason and Religion._
⭘ _A farther Appeal to Men of Reason and Religion._ Part I.
Illustration: (‡ decoration)
An EXTRACT of
LETTERS
By Mrs. L****.
[Continued.]
To the Rev. Mr. ****.
_Sunday Afternoon, October 13, 1754._
_My dear Friend_,
I WAS this morning (though unseen by you) present at your sermon on
the _public_ worship of God, and sat impatiently, expecting and longing
to hear that name mentioned, by which alone cometh salvation. Surely,
thought I, when all his heathen and moral motives are done, I shall
at last hear him urge that _best_ and _most_ prevailing motive to
our joining together in the praise of God, the exceeding riches of
his mercy to us in Jesus Christ. But alas! How were my expectations
frustrated? And how did my heart sink when the sermon was ended!――If
there is any faith to be given, either to the words or behaviour of
man, you are a _Christian_. But what did you say _here_, more than
_Socrates_ might have said? You will pardon my boldness; God knows the
sincerity of my heart, when I protest, that it is only from a motive
of love to your soul, and the souls of those which hear you, that I
write with such freedom. Give me leave then to ask, Have you, for your
own soul in particular, found redemption through the blood of Christ?
I have all the reason imaginable, from your sweet conversation, to
believe that you have. But how is it then that you could preach _one_
such sermon as this? Oh search well into your own heart. Is there
not some root of bitterness remaining, some evil shame, which renders
you thus inconsistent? Had I not heard you myself, I could not have
thought it possible, for you to have preached in this manner, after the
glorious things you have said to me. You have called me friend. Take
this letter as the highest proof of friendship I could possibly give
you. Is it not so, for your sake to run the hazard of being thought
_bold_ and _assuming_? If you are offended, tell me so _plainly_,
but at the same time _freely_ forgive me; and believe me, with the
sincerest wishes for your present usefulness and everlasting happiness,
_Your ever obliged and affectionate Friend_,
****
* * * * *
To the Rev. Mr. W****.
_December 25, 1754._
_Dear Sir_,
*MAY this blessed day in which the sun of righteousness first arose on
our dark world, bring a new accession of light, and peace, and joy to
_your_ precious soul! May the power of God accompany every word you
utter, and give you this day to enlarge your conquests over the prince
of darkness. Oh, give my full heart leave to expand itself in praying
for you, in blessing you, and in thanking you, for your surprizing
goodness to me. No, never shall you find me ungrateful; _that_ God in
whom alone I trust for strength, will preserve me from falling into
this meanest of all crimes.――I shall not, I fear, have the delightful
satisfaction of hearing you to-morrow, and therefore could not forbear
writing to-day; besides, I am by illness prevented attending the public
worship of God, so that I have need of this comfort. Every thing has
succeeded here beyond my hopes, your presence has greatly dispelled
every cloud of prejudice, and fear of man. In short, when I consider
the goodness of God and my own absolute unworthiness, I am lost in
astonishment: dear Sir, pray that I may make a proper improvement
of all these blessings, and particularly of that _exceeding_
great blessing, your friendship. Oh Sir! may I _indeed_ say _your_
friendship? The Lord Jesus bless and reward you! Expression fails me,
when I would thank you as I ought, and tell how much I am,
_Your ever obliged and affectionate_,
****
* * * * *
_Dear Sir_,
YOUR answer to my question, on what is the proper foundation of our
rejoicing in temporal blessings, is perfectly satisfactory, and I thank
you for it. What you say of Mr. _P._’s tract is just what I wanted:
possibly some fit season may be given me to make a good use of it. One
would imagine that if singleness of eye, and sincerity of heart were
really found in all those of our ministers, who in a measure preach
the gospel, there would scarce be room left even for the shadow of a
dispute. But this is only imagination; for I cannot help observing of
some, for whose sincerity I would answer with my life, that they are
far from being consistent long together. I have lately been attacked
with a mighty pretty distinction (and from my ignorance a new one to
me) in respect of the doctrine of assurance of forgiveness of sin.――Mr.
**** says, it is of the _essence_ of _faith_; but most of the old
_Puritans_, together with a heap of great names (of which I remember
not one) say, it is of the _fruits_ of _faith_.――A poor weak woman,
who has not learnt logic, may be easily puzzled with the nicety of
a logical distinction; but still I could plainly see, that let it be
essence or fruits, there was a manifest necessity for enforcing the
doctrine: because a tree which brings not forth its proper fruits, is
a barren tree.――A faith which brings not forth its proper fruits, is
a dead faith, and consequently unprofitable.――The answer is, “A tree
may be alive, and yet not bring forth fruit immediately.”――Well, but
this makes nothing against the necessity there is that it _should_
bring forth fruit, in order to make it a profitable tree.――But then
we have a homily to fly to:――“The homily on salvation says ‘nothing
of assurance.’”――If the homily contradicts St. _Paul_, the homily
is nothing to me.――“O, you won’t refer it to that, ‘because it makes
against you.’”――I do not so much as know what is in it.――“It only ‘says
a _sure trust_ and _confidence_.’”――I think a _sure confidence_ is
nearly the same with assurance.――“No, they are very different.”――Now,
Sir, you must be so good to furnish me with two or three of your strong
arguments, to pull down this _Babel_ tower, which _our friends_ are
building. I should also be glad, if you would tell me by what happy
art you are always _consistent_ in doctrine, as well as practice: for I
can find no one else that is so.――Difference of opinion I regard not; I
could enjoy fellowship of spirit with a truly sincere _Predestinarian_,
_Papist_, or _Quaker_. Inconsistency is the thing alone which hurts me.
When I find this in people whom I know to be in so much higher a state
of grace than myself, and whom I love and honour, it disquiets me, I
own, by far too much: and my soul, like _Noah_’s dove, flies solitary
about, and finds no place of rest on the face of the whole earth: till
at last with one olive-leaf, and _only one_, she returns joyful to the
ark――Give me leave, Sir, to intreat of you (if you should have a little
time to spare) that you will just point out to me, _First_, What are
the probable causes of this inconsistency, in those who have _truly_
sincerity of heart, and singleness of eye. _Secondly_, What is the most
probable means of curing this distemper of the mind. And, _Thirdly_,
How I may avoid falling into it myself, and keep my soul from being
disquieted, when I find it in those whom I highly esteem.――――I hope God
continues to preserve to us your precious health, and that your long
journies may be a means of strengthening and establishing it.――I doubt
not but the work of the Lord prospers in your hands, and that you will
have much reason to rejoice in the fruit of your labours. How happy
are you to be always thus employed, in such eminent service for your
Master? You live almost the life of an unembodied spirit; and I live
nearly the life of a _plant_. But thank God, it is absolutely certain,
that this immortal spirit of mine, which is thus pressed in on every
side, and weighed down with matter, will some time burst its bonds, and
break the bars of its prison; and then, how it will soar! Nothing sure
can equal the life, the joy, the _glorious liberty_, which a spirit
must feel, when first delivered from its heavy clog! Farewel! May
our dear Redeemer continually watch over you, and bless you in every
thought, word, and action!
_I am_, &c.
****
* * * * *
_September 17._
_Dear Sir_,
HOW shall I find words to thank you for your sweet expressions of care
and friendship for my soul? Ten thousand thousand blessings on your
own for this kindness.――――I hope I may in _one_ sense say, that my soul
prospers, because I desire nothing but that the will of God may be done
in me and by me. But I have not at present those overflowings of joy
I have at some times experienced: the cries of a sickly infant, which
touch all the finest springs of human nature, cast a kind of heaviness
over my soul: and the perpetual and strict watch I am obliged to keep
over my heart, for fear the least murmuring or complaining thought
should arise in it, (which I would rather die than suffer) seem rather
to restrain my soul from the glorious freedom she once had, of losing
herself in the heights and depths of divine love.――Oh blessed hours of
abstraction from all creatures, and joyful communion with the fountain
and centre of all happiness, when will ye return? When it is the will
of my heavenly Father that you should return; and in that divine will
I rest contented, willing, nay pleased, to suffer any thing, every
thing, so I may be kept from sin. I have lately had inward temptations,
buzzing about my mind, like insects in a summer’s day; but, by looking
to Jesus, I as easily disperse them, as the waving hand disperses those
little troublesome animals: and, thanks to my Redeemer’s boundless
mercy, I still enjoy in my inmost soul, a peace, which I would not lose
for millions of worlds. But I greatly want constant recollection, and
a mortified humble spirit. You know the weight your words have with
me; give me, I beg of you, some directions for obtaining this. I cannot
take my leave, without thanking you again and again, for enquiring
after my soul: Oh how dearly do I love you for this goodness; may the
tender mercies of God be with you! May the eternal Comforter meet and
bless you in every word of your tongue, and in every thought of your
heart!
_Your ever-grateful and affectionate_,
****
* * * * *
_February 28._
I SHALL not forget the great reason I had to be thankful both to God
and you, for our _last_ conversation. It seemed to me, that I had more
liberty of speaking to you than usual, though a thousand things were
yet left unsaid; and you led me to make many observations, which I hope
will be of _lasting_ benefit to my soul. You have taught me to see the
amazing wisdom and loving kindness of God in several instances, which
I should not else have thought of; and I am fully satisfied with all
his disposals: knowing he orders all things well, I chearfully submit;
and I trust that strength will be given me to walk on in the way set
before me, “though sorrowful, yet (in one sense) always rejoicing.”――Is
it not a great blessing that the thorns are mixed with roses? This
is infinitely more than I deserve.――How true is it, that the higher
satisfaction we have in any thing, besides God, the greater pain
must necessarily attend it? I have often been taught this lesson,
in various degrees, each rising above the other; and yet I have not
learnt wisdom. And who shall teach me _this_ wisdom? Why you yourself
can lay down most excellent rules, but it is God alone who can give
me power to practise them. I plainly see the necessity of having every
thought brought into subjection to Christ: it must be thus, if I would
attain settled peace and constant recollection.――In your extract from
_Molinos_, the state of mind I am seeking, is well described in these
words: “The soul that is entered into the heaven of peace, acknowledges
itself full of God, and his supernatural gifts; because it lives
grounded in _pure love_, receiving equal pleasure in light and darkness,
in night and day, in _affliction_ and _consolation_: through this holy
and heavenly _indifferency_, it never loses its peace in _adversity_,
nor its _tranquility_ in _tribulation_, but sees itself full of
unspeakable enjoyments.”――――And again, “Though the valley of the
lower faculties of the soul, is suffering _tribulations_, _combats_,
_martyrdoms_, and suggestions, yet at the _same time_, on the lofty
mountain of the higher part of the soul, the true sun casts its beams;
it enflames and inlightens it, and so it becomes clear, peaceable,
resplendent, quiet, serene, being a mere ocean of joy.”――But alas! you
will say, “How far are _you_ from this state!” True, I am far from it
indeed. And yet I have sometimes experienced some little glimmerings
of it, but they have been soon disturbed: and then I have fondly said
to myself, Well, when this trial, when this temptation, or difficulty
is over, I shall return to my sweet peace, and my soul will be wholly
swallowed up in the love of God. Vain imagination! I think I have _now
experimentally_ learnt a truth, which before only floated in my brain,
“That the peace of a Christian does not consist in being free from
temptations and difficulties, but in stedfastly and calmly conquering
them.”――Once more, the Lord preserve you! Could my prayers avail any
thing, what blessings would you receive, in body, soul, and spirit!
Oh farewel, farewel! And when your soul is most carried up to God,
remember to pray for,
_Your grateful and affectionate_,
****
* * * * *
_April 2._
_Dear Sir_,
I RETURN you many thanks for writing so soon, and particularly for
filling two sides of your paper. My soul was as much enlivened by your
letter, as the earth, the birds, and flowers, are by the rays of the
sun, after a long and heavy rain. May your blessed Master reward you
for all your goodness to me!
I thank God, I have in some measure learnt that grand lesson, “Not as
I will, but as _thou_ wilt;” and I continually pray that he may teach
it me more and more. The present idle and half-dying life I am obliged
to lead, greatly needs this temper of mind; and it is all owing to
the free mercy of my Redeemer, that I can _now_ say, his grace is
sufficient for me.
In regard to temporal blessings, I have now and then a little dispute
with some of my religious friends, and I want your authority to
strengthen my arguments.――They say, Whatever temporal blessing God
gives, you are to rejoice and take a pleasure in it, as his gift. And
I say, Whatever temporal blessing God bestows, the motive for your
rejoicing should be _merely_ the _will_ of God: for if you rejoice in
the blessing, considered as a happiness in itself (though referring it
to God with a thankful heart) you are building on the sand, and your
happiness will be shaken, if not overturned, by the first storm that
beats upon it. But if the will of God be the motive of your rejoicing,
you build your happiness on a foundation which never can be moved. The
present blessing, indeed, may vanish away, but your cause of rejoicing
still remaineth sure and stedfast, in time and in eternity.――Some
people think the _way_ I am in at present a prodigious happiness,
and the greatest of worldly blessings, and will ask me, “Are you not
pleased?”――I answer, I am pleased with every thing which is the will of
God; and the answer is thought an odd one: but I cannot help it, I dare
not make any other.
*You want me to say something upon Christian love ripened in eternity.
But this is a theme for angels; my soul is too low, too dull to attempt
to write upon it; I can only wish and pray to be a partaker of it.
Farewel; may the sweetest streams of redeeming love ever fill your soul.
_I am unalterably your’s_,
****
* * * * *
_July 18._
*_Dear Sir_,
I CAN truly say, that I _would_ with joy devote all I have, and all
I am to God, and gladly spend every hour in his service, But the
difficulties I find in the way are _indeed insuperable_ to _me_, though
not so I think to every one, at least if I may judge from some few
instances I have seen since my acquaintance with _you_.――You yourself,
_even outwardly_, appear to me to spend every hour to the glory of God;
and for this reason I look upon you to be the happiest of mankind. When
I see you spent with fatigue, your eyes half closed, and your outward
man seeming to _hasten_ to its dissolution, though I would freely give
my own life and strength to increase yours, I almost _envy_ you this
_glorious fatigue_, and say to myself, How happy, how blessed is this
man, thus to _spend_ and be _spent_ in the service of his Redeemer!
Think me not presumptuous when I say, that I place you constantly
before my mind, as my _living_ example. Outwardly it certainly is
impossible for me to follow you, but inwardly!――Oh, Sir, that I could
in every faculty of my _soul_ be a follower of you, even as _you
are_ of _Christ_!――You bid me _love enough_; and doubtless if I could
_love enough_, I should (as you say) do enough, for _perfect_ love
is _perfect liberty_, liberty to conquer all sin, and attain to all
holiness. This is the glorious privilege of the children of God; and
this my soul pants after. But though I can sincerely say, that I love
God above all things, yet it is very evident that I do not love enough,
because the fruits of this perfect love are not produced in my soul.
Sometimes my enemies seem intirely conquered, and my mind is smooth
and calm, as were the waters after Christ had said to them, _Peace,
be still_. But when I seem thus strong, I am (to my inexpressible
shame and confusion) found to be _weakness_ itself: some trifle, which
perhaps had appeared too contemptible even to be thought of, will be
the means of my _inwardly_ falling. But thanks be to God I have this
given me,
“Quick as the apple of an eye,
The slightest touch of sin to feel.”
To feel, and immediately to fly to that blood of sprinkling which alone
can cleanse me from this pollution. But indeed, Sir, I find every day
more and more the truth of your words, “that I have need to _watch
always_.” I am set as it were in the midst of snares, both friends and
enemies conspiring together to keep me from that humility, which is so
necessary to one who wishes to be really a _Christian_. My enemies lead
to pride, by railing at me for what is, and ought to be, in one sense,
my glory; and my friends, by having too high an opinion of me. I think
there is none, except yourself, who does not in _some measure_ hurt
me: and therefore, though I dare not call you _my_ friend, as implying
any particular attachment on your part, you are in fact, my truest and
best friend. Praise I now dread as poison; and yet my temper is such
as makes some encouragement necessary. Your behaviour to me is exactly
fitted to preserve the balance of my mind even; a smile of approbation
from you, is _that praise_ which _encourages_ without endangering. You
will pardon my speaking so much of myself: a patient, you know, must
fully lay open his case to his physician; and I have been emboldened
even by you yourself, to increase the length of my letters. Oh may your
blessed Master reward you for all your labours in his service, and for
all your goodness to,
_Your unworthy, though
ever-grateful and affectionate_,
****
MEDITATIONS
Upon some TEXTS of SCRIPTURE.
_The heart is deceitful above all things,
and desperately wicked._
O MY God, how fatally do I experience the truth of this assertion! My
heart is indeed deceitful above all things. And how great is my sorrow
on the melancholy reflection? Lord, I have by the deceitfulness and
wickedness of my own heart, justly forfeited my title to the joys of
eternity, incurred thy indignation, and made myself obnoxious to that
dreadful sentence, _Depart ye cursed_! And how just is this sentence,
after the crimes my deceitful heart has betrayed me into; after the
many good resolutions I have broke; after the sins of ingratitude,
presumption, and repining, with which I have defiled my soul! How often
have I resolved, firmly resolved, to keep a strict watch over my eyes
and heart in the house of God; and let no thought have entrance, which
could prevent my addressing my Creator with the reverence I ought?
But, merciful God! How contrary have I acted to all this! Have not
my eyes been amused by vanity, and my heart so distracted by idle and
ridiculous ideas, that I have not known the words my lips pronounced?
Nay, have not even unclean and blasphemous thoughts attacked me at
this sacred time, and, wretch that I am! been indulged, or but coldly
rejected? Horrible proof, that my heart is deceitful above all things,
and desperately wicked! Lord, I abhor myself, for having thus often,
and thus heinously offended thee! I am utterly ashamed and confounded,
at my daring, my monstrous impiety! How shall I dare to hope for pardon
of a sin so frequently repeated, and with such aggravations? When I
consider the greatness of my guilt, my astonished soul is ready to sink
in black despair. Blessed God! I sin against the clearest conviction,
against the checks of my conscience, and the kind admonitions of thy
holy Spirit; and, strange perverseness! against all the hopes I have
of happiness; sin against that God, whom I love and adore from my soul,
and whose favour I would this moment lay down my life to procure. The
thoughts of immortality, and the surprising goodness of the Almighty,
in the works of creation and redemption, fill my mind with gratitude
and wonder; I am lost in admiration, and could dwell for ever on the
delightful theme. And yet, inconsistent wretch that I am! I go on to
offend this divine author of my being, by my careless, supine, and
irreverent addresses; and my wicked and fantastic thoughts. My prayers
are turned into sin: and now is it not presumption, the highest
presumption, to hope for pardon? Or rather, would it not be a greater
sin than I have yet committed, to despair of it? Is not mercy the
darling attribute of God? It is; and I embrace and adore that mercy:
that mercy which is so freely offered to the worst of sinners: that
mercy which is made sure to us by the blood of a crucified Saviour.
Oh my only refuge! my dearest hope and everlasting confidence! Teach
me words to express the sentiments I have of thee, and the abhorrence
I have of my guilt. I detest myself, hate my vile ingratitude, and
am fully convinced of my own weakness, and the vanity of my best
resolutions, without thy assisting grace. Oh grant me that, for the
sake of my Redeemer; on that alone will I rely; never more will I trust
to the strength of my own reason. I have found, by dear experience,
that I am folly and inconstancy itself: without thy aid I am worse
than nothing, but with the blessing I implore, I shall be more than
conqueror. But is the sin I have now been lamenting, the only instance
of the wickedness and deceitfulness of my heart? Alas! it is not:
I have innumerable proofs of its treachery; every day, every hour
brings some, and gives me new cause for grief and repentance. I resolve
frequently, no more to repine at the misfortunes I lie under; no more
to look back with discontent, or forwards with distrust. And these
resolutions I strengthen, by reflections on the wisdom of God: how
much better he knows to chuse for me, than I could for myself; and how
unavailing impatience is under ills, I cannot prevent. Then I consider
how small my punishment is, in comparison of what I deserve, and should
suffer, was not the Almighty infinitely merciful; and what blessings
afflictions are productive of, when received with humility and
resignation. *And yet after all this, how often do I catch my deceitful
heart breathing an impious sigh, and by this secret complaint accusing
Providence! How often are my eyes lift up, with a “Lord! why am I thus
miserable? Why, while I see all around me gay and prosperous, must I
alone be unfortunate, and mourn, without finding one to pity me? What
have I done to deserve the being disappointed in every thing I have set
my affections on, and deceived by every friend I have trusted?”――With
this surprising boldness have I dared to expostulate with my Maker;
and yet his mercy still allows me life, and time for repentance. Oh
thou adorable Being! may I never more offend thee by a discontented
word or thought: but grant that every faculty of my soul, may be in
perfect resignation to thy will; and by this resignation, acquire that
tranquillity and peace, which all the delights of the earth are not
able to give.
Again. I resolve every day to be perfectly easy under every little
mortification I may meet in the common occurrences of life. How weak (I
cry) is it to be affected by the folly or ill-nature of the world! Why
should I regard the sneers of people, whose low sentiments are only
deserving pity? Can the unreasonable, and unjust notions of another,
rob me of any real merit? Can an envious, a malicious, or a detracting
speech, do me any material injury, unless I give it force myself, by my
impatience and want of temper? No certainly: nothing from without can
hurt me, but by my own fault. A mind fortified with religion, is proof
against the darts of senseless tattle, or ill-natured wit. Firm and
collected within itself, it smiles superior, and looks down on the
ignorant and the malicious with pity.――These reflections are just;
and Oh that I could reduce them into practice! But here I miserably
fail. *After my soul has plumed herself with these fine notions, and is
ready to pronounce herself equal to every trial, she sinks in the most
shameful manner. A word, a look, nay the very appearance of a slight,
throws me into the greatest uneasiness and confusion; and though I can
govern my temper enough to hide it from the world, my heart is ready
to burst with indignation. Strange weakness!――But why do I call it
strange? Am I not too well acquainted with the fatal cause of this,
and almost every sin I am guilty of? ’Tis vanity, that intolerable
vanity, which mixes itself with all I act, or speak, or think. When
I look strictly into my deceitful and wicked heart, I find it so
full of this abominable vice, that I regard myself with horror and
amazement; and yet perhaps the next moment, indulge in airy schemes and
self-complacency. Sure there is not in the whole universe, so vain and
sinful a wretch as I am! What can I hope for? What can I expect? Will
not eternal rejection from the presence of God be justly my portion?
Oh, thought of unutterable horror! My God! My only hope! Can I think
of being for ever cast out from the light of thy countenance, and live?
Why does not the dreadful idea at once put an end to my being? All the
torments of damnation are summed up in these shocking words――Eternal
rejection from thy presence!――Oh gracious and adorable being! let
me not be thus beyond imagination cursed. In the name of my blessed
Saviour, I implore thy pity! Oh look with compassion on a soul which
pants for grace and forgiveness! A soul sensible of her weak and
♦polluted state, and entirely relying on thy mercy. O speak peace to
this troubled sea, and all shall be calm! Give me strength to resist
those temptations I so often sink under! But above all, change this
wicked and deceitful heart, and give me a new heart and a new spirit.
Mortify in me all proud thoughts and vain opinions of myself, and let
not the blessings thou hast bestowed upon me increase my condemnation,
by being made motives for pride and vainglory. Hear and grant my
requests, Oh ever-merciful God, for the sake of Jesus Christ, our only
Mediator and Redeemer. _Amen._
1748.
♦ “pollued” replaced with “polluted”
* * * * *
_Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden,
and I will refresh you._
THESE, Oh compassionate Saviour, were thy words; this thy gracious call,
and I obey it. I come unto thee, Oh thou light of the world! for rest,
peace and everlasting refreshment. Wearied with treading the paths of
folly and vanity; wearied with deceitful hopes and idle fears, and all
the gay delusions of this world, I come to thee for peace, and with
full assurance of obtaining it. Assurance founded on thy promises;
those promises which are truth itself: merciful as thy own ♦beneficent
nature, and unalterable as thy being. Heaven and earth shall pass away,
but thy word shall never fail. Encouraged by this word, I come: not
even the reflection of my absolute unworthiness shall keep me from
thee. ’Tis to sinners that this heavenly call is addressed; sinners
that labour under the heavy burden of their offence; and such am I. The
miserable wretch who is chained to the oar, is not more weary of his
slavery, than I am of my sins: the sins which so easily beset me, and
so often conquer my best resolutions. Every hour I have new reason to
lament my weakness, and to confess that thy grace is my only refuge. O
let that grace, which has kept me from all infamous crimes, be also my
preservative against those sins of the mind, which, though hid from the
short-sighted world, are all open to thee, and render my soul equally
odious to the eye of heaven. Oh save me from myself! From my own proud
thoughts and vain affections! I come to thee, blessed Jesus, that I
may have rest: Oh give me that rest! Then shall all be perfect peace
and harmony, and my soul shall feel no emotions but those of joy and
gratitude, eternal gratitude to my gracious and Almighty Benefactor.
♦ “beneficient” replaced with “beneficent”
* * * * *
_This corruptible must put on incorruption,
and this mortal must put on immortality._
OH glorious and ever transporting thought! Sure and never failing
remedy for all the troubles and disappointments of life!――Incorruption
and immortality!――Let me dwell on the charming words: they carry
peace and everlasting joy in the sound. And yet how little can my soul
understand of their full import, clogged by the weight of flesh and
blood? Darkened by this cloud of sin and error, what true idea can
she form of incorruption? But if the faint shadow and distant prospect
affords such delight, what will the full enjoyment give? Imagination
is lost in the dazzling reflection! All the scenes of this lower world
vanish as a mist before the sun: and my elevated soul wholly absorbed
in contemplation of those mighty blessings seems to soar above the
stars, and launch into the sea of eternity. My God! My everlasting
hope! Great and adorable Creator of all things! Where shall I find
words expressive of my wonder, my joy, and gratitude? Thy mercy, thy
free, and boundless mercy, from nothing called me into being, and made
that being capable of an endless duration: formed me for eternity!
And what raises the benefit infinitely higher, for an eternity of
happiness! Not the united power of men and devils can deprive me of
this without my own consent: and if I am miserable I have no one to
blame, except myself. O merciful God! I adore thee past all expression,
and the notions I have of thy divine attributes inspire me with an
unbounded confidence. Unworthy as I am of the least of all thy mercies,
I cannot but hope for the greatest; and in the midst of my continual
offences, I look up to thee, as my friend, my only refuge, and constant
benefactor. When I grieve for my sins, ’tis not from fear of punishment,
but from the cutting reflection of my black ingratitude, in offending
my Creator and Preserver, the God in whom I live, and move, and have
my being; the God to whom I owe infinitely more than I can conceive;
to whom I owe the glorious, and the assured hopes of incorruption and
immortality. And here again, O my soul, take wing, again lose thyself
in the blissful prospect! Think on the joy thou wilt feel, when this
corruptible shall have put on incorruption; when this companion (which
in spite of the miseries it betrays thee into, is still dear and still
too tenderly beloved) shall become (instead of a clog, or a prison) a
vehicle pure and ethereal, perfectly fitted for all the purposes of thy
enlarged faculties, and the completion of thy glory and happiness. O
blessed and desirable re-union! State of permanent delight, and never
fading joy! With what rapture does thy idea inspire my soul! Fired
by thoughts like these, I rise far above the most glorious prospects,
earth, with all her boasted varieties, can give. Pleasures, riches,
honours, what are ye all? Emptiness and nothing.――At the least glimpse
of eternal day, how ye vanish into soft air! Lost are all your shining
toys; your painted glories intirely lost! And Oh may their deluding
shadows never return to darken my soul! May the God whom I trust,
preserve me from all their temptations; may his mercy ever protect and
guide me, and bring me in the end to that state of incorruption and
immortality, which I hope for through the merits and mediation of our
blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. _Amen._
* * * * *
_Then |Peter| said, Now know I that God is no respecter
of persons; but in every nation, he that feareth him and
worketh righteousness, is accepted of him._
THIS text is so strong a proof of the unreasonableness and folly of
national or religious prejudices, that one would imagine it should
intirely banish those odious and pernicious principles, from the
whole Christian world. But daily experience too plainly discovers the
contrary; and the very people who would be thought to have the greatest
zeal for the good of souls, are of all others the readiest to condemn
those who dissent from them. ’Tis a common (though false assertion)
of libertines, that priests of all religions are the same. But they
might truly affirm, that bigots of all religions are the same, equally
destructive of the peace of their fellow-creatures, and the laws
of civil society. What wild havock, what horrid scenes of blood and
slaughter, have been produced by mistaken zeal and blind prejudice?
The histories of former times abound with shocking instances of this
kind; and, strange inconsistency! the persecuted party have no sooner
got the upper hand, but they have, with the power, assumed the spirit
of their persecutors, and been guilty of the very acts of injustice
they had so loudly exclaimed against. ’Tis true, the degrees and kinds
of persecution differ, according to the particular notions of the
sects, or the particular law of the states where it is practised. But
persecution, in whatever shape or degree, is still persecution, and
proceeds from that spirit of prejudice and bigotry, which make us look
on God as a respecter of persons, and on all those who differ from
us as his enemies, and consequently, deserving nothing at our hands
but contempt and cruelty. Thus the furious _Roman Catholic_ brands
with the name of heretic, all who are without the pale of his church,
pursues them with fire and sword in this world, and sentences them
to eternal punishment in the next. And the staunch, sour _Protestant_
devoutly expatiates on the crying sin of idolatry, never thinks of
the Pope without joining with him antichrist and the devil, absolutely
pronounces the church of _Rome_ to be the whore of _Babylon_, and
expects (with great Christian charity) that in a few ages more, she and
all her members will be swallowed up in the bottomless pit, the lake of
fire and brimstone. Nay, the bigots of (even) the little trifling sects
into which the reformed religion is subdivided, all agree to damn each
other, and wholly to appropriate to those of their own denomination,
the title of God’s church, and God’s chosen.――Surprizing narrowness
of soul! Worse than _Jewish_ stupidity! They had some excuse for their
arrogancy: the particular manner in which Providence had distinguished
them from the rest of the world, seemed to be some foundation for their
pride to build on. And ’tis not to be wondered, that the dark shadow
of the law should obscure the principle of universal benevolence. But
that people under the glorious dispensation of the gospel, men who
pretend to be followers of that Jesus, whose whole life was a scene
of moderation and charity, who laid down his life for his enemies, and
prayed for his murderers: in a word, that Christians should despise,
hate, and persecute their fellow Christians, is a consideration equally
melancholly and amazing! *Mistaken men! Is then the great Creator of
the universe, the Preserver of all his creatures, the God of mercy,
who would not that any one should perish, is this adorable Being a
respecter of persons? Is his justice to be biassed by your foolish
distinctions? Or his mercy lessened by your uncharitable judgments? In
vain you would make the Almighty a party in your quarrel, and pretend
to be fighting his cause! He disclaims such furious champions; nor will
true religion allow of defenders, who are destroying the most glorious
part of her system, that principle of universal charity, which in the
apostolical times was the distinguishing mark of Christianity. It was
then said, See how these Christians love one another! But now (sad
contrast!) see how these Christians hate one another! Oh blessed and
ever-merciful God! look down with compassion on the deplorable state of
the Christian world! See how thy church is laid waste and rent asunder,
by the fraud, malice, or blind zeal of particular men: in one place,
over-run by superstition; in another, undermined by scepticism: and
every where robbed of her primitive peace and purity. Oh restore that
purity! Restore that peace! Heal her breaches, reform her superstitions,
and grant that we may, with one heart and one mind, with universal love
and unbounded charity to our fellow-creatures, and a firm and lively
faith in our blessed Redeemer, adore thee the only true God; and,
after a life of piety and virtue, attain one of unalterable glory and
happiness. _Amen._
* * * * *
_O God, thou art my God! Early will I seek thee._
WHEN we are deprived of all the joys of life, betrayed by those we
trusted, forsaken by our friends, triumphed over by our enemies, and
robbed of our dearest hopes, where and to whom must we go for relief?
What comfort can be hoped in a condition so desperate.――Will reflection
on the past give us ease?――Alas! it makes our wounds still deeper; and
every remembrance of the treachery of our friends, or the malice of
our enemies, draws a new sigh from the opprest and aching heart, and
a fresh tear from the sinking eye.――Shall we look forwards?――All dark
and gloomy is the prospect, and the mind, wearied with affliction, and
wholly deprest by grief and disappointments, shudders at the thought of
launching again into the sea of delusions, of again trusting, and being
again deceived. In circumstances so deplorable, nothing can calm our
grief, nothing afford us one moment’s peace, but seeking early after
God. And happy! Thrice happy! That soul, which can say with the royal
_Psalmist_, _O God! thou art my God, my refuge in all my distresses, my
only hope, and everlasting peace!_――A man who can look up to the great
Author of nature, with a confidence like this, who can seek after God
with full assurance of finding him, and in him a sure relief for all
the troubles and miseries of life, is superior to all events, and
may be happy in the most terrible afflictions. Is he deprived of his
estate, reduced to a despised and unrelieved poverty? He is still
rich in the pleasing hopes, that his God will one day bestow on him
a glorious and never-failing inheritance. Is he by death robbed of
his dearest friends? His grief is immediately calmed, by the thoughts
of that eternal state to which he is every moment approaching, and
where he will meet those dear objects of his tenderness, never, never
to be parted from them more. Is his reputation made a sacrifice to
spite and calumny, and himself condemned, reviled, and hated, by his
acquaintance? Still true to his principles, and firm in his trust on
the Almighty, he braves the storm, and with joy he looks forward to
that day, when his accusers shall be covered with shame and confusion,
and his innocence declared in the sight of men and angels. *Is he
betrayed by those he trusted with an unbounded confidence, by those who
were dear to him as himself, and for whose life he would freely have
paid his own? Even in this affliction (which is of all others grating
to human nature) he is still the most master of himself, and possessing
his soul in patience and resignation, looks up to that friend who will
never deceive him, to that God who is truth itself. Convinced of the
folly of placing his love and trust on creatures, he fixes it wholly
on the eternal Creator, and acknowledges with sincerity the mercy of
God, in thus graciously releasing his heart from those deluding ties,
which had so often drawn him from the centre of true happiness, the end
of his being. Thus blessed is he, who can say with faith, gratitude,
and humility, _O God, thou art my God_!――Grant, Oh most adorable and
omnipotent Being! Grant me this glorious privilege! I have nothing more
to ask. That thou art my God, is a blessing infinitely greater than the
whole creation can bestow; infinitely beyond all I can ask or conceive.
Possessed of this, I can defy the combined malice of men and devils.
Welcome distress, poverty, disappointment, and affliction of all
kinds, even what I have most dreaded! Welcome all, if it is the will
of heaven! What hurt are ye capable of doing me, while I can say to
the rock of ages, “Thou art my God?” And certainly, Oh thou fountain
of life, and author of all good, ’tis thy gracious will that I should
thus address thee; else why this firm reliance on thee in all my
afflictions? Why this entire confidence on thy mercy and goodness, in
the midst of my sufferings? How often, when my heart has been sinking
under a load of sorrow, have I found relief and comfort, by applying
to thee? In troubles, which I have thought impossible to be endured,
thou hast been my support; and when at any time I have been tempted
to discontent, and dared to murmur and complain, how quickly has thy
grace inspired me with remorse for my impiety; and enabled me to make
a new act of resignation to thy Providence! Sure and infallible proofs,
that thou art my God! And Oh may I never repay those instances of thy
compassion and tender mercy with ingratitude! Never more distrust the
power which has so often delivered me! But grant, Almighty Father, that
in all the trials thou hast allotted me in this mortal state, I may
seek thee early, and in seeking thee, find all the blessings thou hast
promised, peace and perfect tranquillity in this life, and everlasting
joy and happiness in the next! These favours, these blessings I implore
in the name, and for the sake of my merciful Redeemer, Jesus Christ.
EXTRACT from a
LITTLE DIARY.
*JANUARY 5, 1754‒5. Glory to the God of boundless mercy, who has this
day, when sinking under great heaviness, both of soul and body, lifted
up the light of his countenance upon me, and made me drink deep of his
redeeming love.――Oh sweetest and most compassionate Jesus! How do thy
tender mercies follow and support my soul! And still I am ungrateful,
and still I am not as thou wouldst have me to be! Oh when wilt thou
make a full end of sin, and bring in thy perfect righteousness? All
things are possible to thee. And do I not know, do I not _taste_, that
thou art gracious! O my sun, my shield, life of my life, look into my
heart; I dare appeal to thine all-searching eye, that there is nothing
so dear to it, but I would this moment part with it for thee! And why
then, dearest Lord, wilt thou not form thy whole blessed image in my
soul? My unworthiness I know is greater than that of any other creature
in the universe; but this unworthiness will the more magnify thy mercy.
I have only my unworthiness to plead; and I have no hope but in thy
atoning blood: Oh let this blood, which has bought my peace, cleanse
me also from every sin; and let that blessed Spirit, who has sealed
and witnessed this _peace_ to my soul, be now a spirit of burning, to
consume all my dross, and to purify me even as――Oh glorious prospect,
heart-enlivening hope, let me sink into the dust before thee! God of
glory, God of purity, I am lost in self-abasement! But hast thou not
promised? And wilt thou not fulfil thine own gracious word? O give me
then perfect sanctification of body, soul, and spirit; and let this
heavy cross, which seems now coming upon me, be, by thy all-powerful
grace, turned into a means of forwarding thy blessed work in my soul.
Let every bitter cup which thou permittest to be given me, be joyfully
received, as serving in some degree to conform me to thy sufferings;
and let me in all things, though ever so contrary to my corrupt nature,
give thanks, and say continually, Lord, not my will, but thine be done.
_Amen._
LETTERS
Wrote by
JANE COOPER:
To which is prefixt
Some _Account_ of her LIFE and DEATH.
The PREFACE.
1. THE good _Armelle_ has been heard of far and wide. Her life has been
written at large, containing several hundred pages, translated into
various languages, and published almost in all parts of _Europe_, by
persons of various persuasions. Her deep, solid, unaffected piety, has
recommended her to those of all denominations, who regarded not mere
opinions, but the genuine work of God; _righteousness, and peace, and
joy in the Holy Ghost_.
2. But it is impossible to give so full an account of this good young
woman, whose station in life, was the same for some years. She had no
such director of her conscience, who was informed (like those in the
_Roman_ church) of the minutest particulars, relating either to her
internal or external walking with God. And she wrote no circumstantial
account of herself. We have only some hints occasionally written,
either for her own private use, or the satisfaction of her friends.
And the greatest part even of her letters are lost: particularly those
of which she took the most pains in writing. So that what follows are
little more than fragments.
“_But though they’re little, they are golden sands._”
In several respects not inferior to any thing in the life of _Armelle
Nicholas_: in others greatly superior thereto. For first, All here
is _genuine_; which I fear is not the case in the account given us of
_Armelle_. For words are there put into her mouth, which I think she
could not possibly utter. For instance. She is made to say, “I had
always such a sense of my sins, that I never felt pride in my life.”
Could any one born of a woman say this? Is it not an embellishment
added by her historian?
3. Secondly, All here is _strong, sterling sense_, strictly agreeable
to sound reason. Here are no extravagant flights, no mystic reveries,
no unscriptural enthusiasm. The sentiments are all just and noble; the
result of a fine natural understanding, cultivated by conversation,
thinking, reading, and true Christian experience. At the same time they
shew an heart as well improved as the understanding; truly devoted to
God, and filled in a very uncommon degree, with the entire _fruit_ of
his Spirit.
4. Thirdly, This strong genuine sense is expressed in such a _stile_,
as none would expect from a _young servant maid_: a stile simple and
artless in the highest degree, but likewise clear, lively, proper:
every phrase, every word being so well chosen, yea, and so well placed,
that it is not easy to mend it. And such an inexpressible sweetness
runs through the whole, as art would in vain strive to imitate.
So JANE COOPER wrote, and spoke, and lived! Thou that readest, _go and
do likewise_!
SOME ACCOUNT
OF THE
LIFE AND DEATH
OF
JANE COOPER.
1. JANE COOPER was born at _Hingham_, in the county of _Norfolk_,
in the year 1738. Her father died when she was very young, and some
time after, her mother married again. She was a daughter of affliction
from her childhood; her father-in-law meeting with many misfortunes:
But rather than be burdensome to any, when she was about twenty years
of age, she chose to go out to service. For this purpose she came
to _London_, and undertook to do all work in a small family. What
sweetened all her labour was, that she had frequent opportunities
of hearing what she believed to be the pure gospel. But after some
months, she judged it best to leave this place, though much against the
desire of her master. She then lived with a gentlewoman in _Pall-mall_,
who for a considerable time, used her more like a companion than a
servant. Her mistress afterwards removing to _Brentford_, she remained
with her till spring 1762, though exceedingly to the prejudice of
her health, which continually decayed. When she quitted _Brentford_,
finding her strength so entirely lost that she was no longer capable of
service, she hired a lodging in _London_, by the advice of her friends,
designing to work plain-work: but before she settled, she took a
journey into _Norfolk_, to visit her friends and relations. Part of the
time she was in the country was spent at _Norwich_, where she indeed
“lived as an angel here below,” comforting the sick and afflicted,
supporting the weak, lifting up the hands that hung down, confirming
the wavering, and in every possible way _ministering to the heirs of
salvation_.
2. Of her spiritual experience during this time, we have no account,
but in some of her letters, and in her diary: part of which runs thus:
(it is dated _January 16, 1762_.)
“I received peace in believing four years ago. For some time after,
I felt no sin, and thought I never should any more. How far it was
owing to my unfaithfulness, I cannot tell; but it was not long, before
I found my inward parts were very wickedness. I was amazed to feel,
that notwithstanding this, I loved him who died for _me_, that I still
retained my confidence in God, and had the witness in myself, that
I was a child of God. But with all I thought, I should always have
a carnal mind, which would sometimes be at _enmity with God_.
“In this belief I continued, till about two years ago God brought me to
hear the _whole_ gospel. Not long after, those words were continually
on my mind, _Once have I heard, yea twice hath God spoken, that power
belongeth unto God_; and I was deeply convinced, that I had in effect
denied his power. Even after I had tasted his love, I limitted the
Holy One of _Israel_: and from this time I began to plead the promises
of sanctification; but I still set them at a distance, supposing the
accomplishment of them to be afar off.
“In _March_ following I heard a letter read from one, who had entered
into the rest of the people of God. It described a happiness in
religion, which I was a stranger to: I was much stirred up to seek
after it, and was determined to wrestle with God till I prevailed.
One day in prayer, that promise was applied, _The Lord whom ye seek,
shall suddenly come to his temple_. From that time, I expected him in
every means I used, to come and destroy the works of the devil. I was
agonizing with God in family prayer, when he gave me power to venture
upon Jesus, as of God _made unto me wisdom, and righteousness, and
sanctification, and redemption_. He spoke into my heart, ‘The Lord,
even the king of _Israel_, is in the midst of thee; _and the enemies
thou hast seen this day, thou shalt see them no more for ever_.’ From
this time I have rejoiced indeed, and yet loathed myself in my own
sight. I feel no desire but to please him, and know of nothing in me
that is not subjected to Jesus: I depend upon him every moment, as my
advocate with the Father: I daily feel my coming short of what I would
be, yet without any condemnation. The blood of sprinkling speaks me
clean. Indeed if I could perform the obedience I desire, I should still
be ashamed before him.”
3. In the midst of various outward trials, her soul was now kept as a
watered garden. She was _satisfied with the favour, and full blessing
of the Lord_: she enjoyed deep communion with God, and that without
any interruption: she sought for and found direction from him in every
circumstance of life. She truly proved him to be her counsellor, who
instructed her by his small still voice. She walked continually in
his presence, and felt her soul always approved of him. She used to
say, “Would Jesus on this or the other occasion, have acted or spoken
thus?” And this rule she steadily copied after, in all her life and
conversation. She knew a little of what our Lord meant, when he said,
_The Father which dwelleth in me, he doth the works_. To his will she
was entirely given up, in sickness and health, ease and pain.
4. In the beginning of _November_, she seemed to have a foresight of
what was coming upon her, and used frequently to sing these words:
“When pain o’er this weak flesh prevails,
With lamb-like patience arm my breast.”
And when she sent to let me know she was ill, she wrote in her note,
“I suffer the will of Jesus. All he sends is sweetened by his love. I
am as happy as if I heard a voice say,
For me my elder brethren stay,
And angels beckon me away,
And Jesus bids me come.”
5. Upon my telling her, “I can’t chuse life or death for you,” she said,
“I asked the Lord, that if it was his will, I might die first; and he
told me, you should survive me, and that you should close my eyes.”
When we perceived it was the small-pox, I said to her, “My dear, you
won’t be frighted, if we tell you what is your distemper.” She said,
“I _can’t_ be frighted at _his_ will.”
6. The distemper soon was very heavy upon her: but so much the more
was her faith strengthened. Tuesday, _November 16_. She said to me, “I
have been worshipping with you before the throne in a glorious manner,
my soul was so let into God.” I said, “Did the Lord give you any
particular promise?” “No, replied she; it was all
That sacred awe that dares not move,
And all the silent heaven of love.”
7. Wednesday 17. Mrs. _C._ said to her, “Is there any thing you think
me particularly deficient in?” She answered, “No, love. He will guide
you by his eye, and be your only counsellor. All around you is God and
heaven. You little know how dearly Jesus loves you.” To Mr. _M._ she
said, “I thank God for your preaching. You must still preach simple
faith. Man will despise you, but God will love you; and yourself must
_believe_.” On Thursday, upon my asking, “What have you to say to
me?” She said, “Nay, nothing but what you know already; God is love.”
I asked, “Have you any particular promise?” She replied, “I don’t
seem to want any. I can live without. I shall die a lump of deformity,
but shall meet you all glorious; and mean time, I shall still have
fellowship with your spirit.”
8. When Mr. _M――――_ came again, he asked, “What she thought the most
excellent _way_ to walk in, and what were its chief _hindrances_?”
She answered, “The greatest _hindrance_ is generally from the natural
constitution. It was mine, to be reserved, to be very quiet, to suffer
much, and to say little. Some may think one _way_ more excellent, and
some another. But the thing is, to live in the will of God. For some
months past, when I have been peculiarly devoted to this, I have felt
such a guidance of his Spirit, and _the unction which I have received
from the Holy One, has so taught me of all things_, that I _needed not
any man should teach me, save as this anointing teacheth_.”
“When you speak upon acquaintance with Jesus, it is food to the soul.
And when you preach of devotedness to God, and living to him, it is
the joy of one’s heart.” He asked, “Have you any conviction you shall
die?” She answered, “No: only from the disorder. But I feel his will
so precious to me, that it is impossible for me to chuse.” He said, “We
leave you in our Lord’s hands.” She said, “We shall meet above. I have
no doubt of it.”
9. On Friday morning, she said, “I believe I shall die.” She then sat
up in her bed, and said, “Lord, I bless thee, that thou art ever with
me, and all thou hast is mine. Thy love is greater than my weakness,
greater than my helplessness, greater than my unworthiness. Lord, thou
_sayest to corruption, thou art my sister_! And glory be to thee, O
Jesus, thou art my brother! Let me _comprehend with all saints, the
length, and breadth, and depth, and heighth of thy love_! Bless these:
(some that were present) Let them be every moment exercised in all
things, as thou wouldst have them to be.”
10. Some hours after, it seemed as if the agonies of death were just
coming upon her. But her face was full of smiles of triumph, and she
clapped her hands for joy. Mrs. _C._ said, “My dear, you are more than
conqueror, through the ‘blood of the lamb’.” She answered, “Yes, O yes,
sweet Jesus. O death, where is thy sting?” She then lay as in a doze
for some time. Afterwards she strove to speak, but could not. However
she testified her love, by shaking hands with all in the room. Then she
took Miss _M――――_’s hand, with Mrs. _C._ and Mrs. _D――――_’s, and put
them to her heart.
11. The apothecary soon came in. She strove to speak to him, but had
not utterance. One asked of the Lord, to give her power to speak; and
in a few moments she spoke distinctly. Immediately she exhorted him to
believe. He said, “I hope I do.” “Do you then, replied she earnestly,
find in Christ all you want? You may. And I want you to be happy _now_.
Why won’t you believe, when Christ has given all his divinity to save
you?” He started, and said, “I hope I shall.” “Hope! said she, that is
not the thing. _The hope of the hypocrite shall perish._ Indeed you are
not an hypocrite. Yet unless you are on the rock, when the winds and
floods come, your building will not stand.”
*12. Mr. _W._ then came. She said, “Sir, I did not know that I should
live to see you. But I am glad the Lord has given me this opportunity,
and likewise power to speak to you. I love you. You have always
preached the _strictest_ doctrine. And I loved to follow it. Do so
still, whoever is pleased or displeased.” He asked, “Do you now believe
you are saved from sin?” She said, “Yes. I have had no doubt of it for
many months. That I ever had, was because I did not abide in the faith.
I now feel, I have kept the faith: and _perfect love casteth out all
fear_.” Mr. _W._ said, “Loving faith is all.” She answered, “Ah Sir, I
never had a grain of faith but what brought love, and I never had any
love but by faith. As to you, the Lord promised me, your latter works
should exceed your former, though I do not live to see it.” He said,
“Perhaps the Lord may restore you.” She said, “His will be done. I
have been a great _Enthusiast_ (as they term it) these six months; but
never lived so near the heart of Christ in my life. You, Sir, desire
to comfort the hearts of thousands. Comfort the hearts of hundreds, by
following that simplicity your soul loves.”
13. To one who received the love of God under her prayer, she said, “I
feel I have not followed a cunningly devised fable; for I am as happy
as I can live. Do you press on, and stop not short of the mark.” To
Miss _M――――s_, she said, “Love Christ, he loves you. I believe I shall
see you at the right hand of God. But _as one star differs from another
star in glory, so shall it be in the resurrection_. I charge you, in
the presence of God, meet me at that day all glorious within. Avoid all
conformity to the world. You are robbed of many of your privileges. I
know, I shall be found blameless. Do _you_ labour to be found of him in
peace, without spot.”
14. Saturday morning, she prayed nearly as follows. “I know, Lord,
my life is prolonged, only to do thy will; and though I should never
eat or drink more, (she had not swallowed any thing for near eight
and twenty hours) thy will be done. I am willing to be kept so a
twelve-month: _Man liveth not by bread alone_. I praise thee, that
there is not a shadow of _complaining in our streets_. In that sense we
know not what sickness means. Indeed, Lord, _neither life, nor death,
nor things present, nor things to come, no nor any creature shall
separate us from thy love one moment_. Bless these, that there may be
no lack in their souls. I believe there shall not. I pray in faith.”
*On Sunday and Monday she was light-headed, but sensible at times.
It then plainly appeared her heart was still in heaven. One said to
her, “Jesus is your mark.” She replied, “I have but one mark. I am all
spiritual.” Miss _M._ said to her, “You dwell in God.” She answered,
“Altogether.” A person asked her, “Do you love _me_?” She said, “O, I
love Christ: I love my Christ. Jesus is precious, very precious indeed.”
She said to Miss _M._ “The Lord is very good. He keeps my soul above
all.” For fifteen hours before she died, she was in strong convulsions.
Her sufferings were extreme. One said, “You are made perfect through
sufferings.” She said, “More and more so.” After lying quiet some time,
she said, “Lord, thou art strong!” Then pausing a ♦considerable space,
she uttered her last words, “My Jesus is all in all to _me_: glory be
to him through time and eternity.” After this she lay still for about
half an hour, and then expired without a sigh or groan.
♦ “conderable” replaced with “considerable”
LETTERS wrote by
JANE COOPER.
LETTERS _to_ Mrs. M. M.
_August 29, 1757._
I SINCERELY rejoice, to find you are convinced of a most important,
but self-abasing truth, that you are _yourself_ utterly unable to work
out your own salvation, or to form so much as one good thought, or one
desire towards it. Rest not in this conviction, but seek, ask, knock:
and you shall assuredly obtain that faith which is the gift of God.
Give me leave to repeat, that religion consists, first, in a true
knowledge of our want of Christ: Secondly, in knowing him to be not
only the Saviour of the world, but _our_ Saviour in particular; in
knowing him to have died for _us_, that we might live through _him_.
There is a great difference between this scheme of religion, and that
we form to ourselves when we begin to desire eternal happiness. I then
thought I must refrain from evil works, and be constant at church. And
I should doubtless go to heaven, though I walked not in a narrow, but
much frequented way. I saw not that Christ alone was the way to heaven;
but though I could not but see my works were insufficient, yet I hoped
God would accept this patch-work obedience, and supply what was wanting.
Beware of building _your_ hopes on this sandy foundation. Seek, but
seek forgiveness and acceptance with God, through him who is the rock
of ages. Let him not go until he bless you. For there is no safety but
in his friendship, and no peace but in his favour.
May every blessing attend my dear friend. Wherever her abode is, she
has a place in my heart.
* * * * *
_November 9._
*DON’T you think me cruel, that I can rejoice to see you under the
cross? I believe both our souls would wither, did not the rough wind
rise to blow away the dust from our branches. When this is done, how
salutary is the rain of grace, how refreshing the beams of love! I am
persuaded there is not one tree of the Lord’s planting, but must be
purged, that it may bring forth much fruit. If you have been on the
mount with _Peter_, _James_, and _John_, remember that was not the only
proof our Lord gave them of his peculiar love: they, and they only were
admitted to _Gethsemane_. Think on this, my dear friend, when you are
under the cross, and wonder at the grace that calls, and that enables
you to drink of that cup, and to have some fellowship with Christ in
his sufferings. I believe your heart and mine have said,
“No cross, no suffering I decline:
Only let all my heart be thine.”
This was recorded in the courts above, and is answered as we are able
to bear. Look not so much at the trial, as at the grace which keeps you
from sinking under it. You may be greatly oppressed: but omnipotence
shall undertake for you. The enemy may thrust sore at you that you may
fall: but claim _his_ help who can and will deliver you. The floods of
temptation may seem ready to overflow your soul. _But the Lord sitteth
above the water-floods, and remaineth a King for ever. He shall give
strength to his people; the Lord shall give his people the blessing
of peace._ Fear not then, thou worm in thine own eyes. Since thou hast
been precious, being bought with blood, thou art fair in his sight, who
yet is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. Therefore he sits as a
refiner’s fire, and as fuller’s soap, on the souls of his people.
I feel Jesus near: he is better to me than I could ask or think. May
your spirit find him nigh at this hour, and to the end of your warfare!
* * * * *
_London._
*YOUR letter came in an acceptable time: I feared you would not write
so soon, and the thought pained me. I found such union of heart with
you last week, as it is pleasing pain to experience. I looked upon
your’s as an answer to prayer. The Lord generally causes me to ask for
a letter before it comes: how shall I speak his praise? He is indeed
Immanuel: and what can we ask more? That we may each moment feel his
power in our hearts, and testify to all, that God is with us. But what
are we, that God should dwell on earth! I am lost in the enquiry. And
will God make a sinner happy? Or what is the same thing, will he make
us holy? He will, our hearts cry out, he will! We shall be filled with
the fulness of his love. He knows I pant, I thirst to prove this, to
know more fully the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ: the Lord lets me
drink of the brook in the way, before I reach the fountain-head. And I
feel love to you, such love as only friendship knows, animated by the
love of God.
I am better in body, but I believe the days of my appointed time are
short. O blessed prospect beyond the grave! There I shall see him face
to face! Help me by your prayers to keep the bright prize in view, that
I may be ever running toward the mark. Jesus direct us to aim aright,
and keep us from swerving aside into crooked paths!
Let me recommend much prayer to you: not only that praying frame of
mind, which a Christian should continually possess, but frequent acts
of secret prayer. And not only pray, but wait and expect the answer. I
long, I love to hear, that you are sinking deeper in the knowledge of
yourself, and rising higher in the love of God.
If I had time I should give you a week’s journal. Sunday se’nnight I
received the sacrament from Mr. _Madan_. It was indeed the communion
of the body and blood of Christ. His banner over me was love. I was
constrained to say, How plentiful is thy goodness, which thou hast laid
up for the sons of men!
I hear frequent mention of persons who have great grace; some of whom
are called _perfect_. I do not much like the term: but I am persuaded,
the only way to overcome sin, and to inherit all things, is by enjoying
uninterrupted communion with our God. I found something of this on
Monday, and was much refreshed with the presence of the Lord. But on
Tuesday I found my heart ready to depart from the living God. Yet I
had reason to wonder and adore the grace that would not let me go.
On Thursday I heard Mr. _Whitefield_, and had cause to rejoice with
reverence. On Friday night a watch was kept at the Foundery, and I
found the promise literally fulfilled, _They that trust in the Lord
shall renew their strength_. Indeed his mercies are so oft repeated,
that if I had not the most ungrateful heart, I should be always
praising him. But I often find such an inward contest with pride,
self-will, impatience, and all the legion which is contrary to the
mind of Christ, that I groan being burthened: Yet I am persuaded, he
can save to the uttermost, and believe he will save even me. Even now
my soul rejoices in hope. He will perfect what is lacking in either
of our spirits. O trust him with all your heart! Lean not to your own
understanding. Believe the Lord; so shall you prosper. Be vigilant in
all things; so shall you disappoint our enemy, and bring glory to our
everlasting friend. Unto his protection I commit you, until the day we
meet to part no more.
* * * * *
_May 6, 1760._
I AM glad you are so conscious of danger. It is necessary to be
exceedingly afraid of our hearts departing from the living God; this
never goes without correction: and though these chastisements are
proofs of his love, yet beware you do not bring them upon yourself.
I look upon your being at that place, as a very particular providence;
yet I feel for you. I know many of nature’s latent mazes will be
discovered to you. Perhaps the cause and the effects will pain you.
And what shall I say to comfort my friend? I cannot give the waters of
consolation: such power belongs unto God only. O may he undertake for
you in every hour of oppression! You may this moment find relief, by
looking to an exalted Redeemer. I have been asking, that we might drink
deep into the spirit of a crucified Saviour. Indeed I knew not the
depth of what I asked: Lord, make us strong, to bear the answer of our
request! Make us esteem it our greatest privilege, to taste that cup of
which thou drankest so largely! Only saying with thee, _If it may not
pass from me, Father, thy will be done_.
It is his absolute promise, _From all your idols will I cleanse you_;
and your heart hath said, Amen! Do you now retract your petition? Do
you not rather say still, in spite of nature’s struggle, “Let all my
heart be thine?” Is your _Isaac_ called for? Ascend the mount, bid all
things contrary to resignation stay behind. Have you endeavoured to
do this, and are you still interrupted by the birds of prey? Are you
still molested, when you would offer the sacrifice which God requires?
O watch and keep off those enemies to your peace! And he that is your
peace shall give you power.
Yes, “when your all of strength doth fail,
You shall with the God-man prevail.”
He loves, he pities you, he requires your heart. And he is worthy to
have it. O may he now reign therein, the Lord of every motion there!
Jesus has not left me comfortless. He still sustains me with his grace.
May he bring us through this wilderness, to meet and part no more!
* * * * *
_December 4._
I KNOW not whether the providence of God will ever permit me to see you
again. But I can leave it to him, in sure hopes that I shall meet your
happy spirit, in the realms of endless day. There we shall surely exult
in a Redeemer’s presence. We shall see him as he is. And indeed when
I have a view, though a transient one, of the glory which shall be
revealed, I am almost impatient of delay. I am ready to cry out, Why
are thy chariot wheels so long in coming? I want leave to go hence, and
be no more seen as an inhabitant of the earth. This has been for some
time past my habitual desire. I cannot help being glad at night, that
one day more of my allotted portion is past, and eternity is nearer
to me than when I first believed. Yet at the same time, I have reason
to be ashamed before the Lord, that I do not live to his glory. I do
not love him with all my heart and strength; so far from it, that I
sometimes feel I never did one action with a single eye to his glory.
My own will has mixed,
And “Pride, that busy sin,
Spoil’d all that I perform’d.”
’Tis well for _me_, that our high-priest bears the iniquity of my holy
things. Indeed, if the altar did not sanctify the gift, I could not
approach with one offering. O may he purify the sacrifice which I have
often made, of all I have, or can, or am!
Watch! Stand stedfast, my dear friend, and be strong in the Lord!
Remember, the God of peace shall shortly bruise Satan under your feet.
May he give you every thing that will forward your growth in grace!
* * * * *
_Norwich, May 11, 1762._
I AM but weak, but my soul is kept in peace. Who can express the
blessing of feeling Christ our friend every moment? Indeed, I see no
other way to profit my soul, but to come the present moment, as I am,
to Jesus: He never sends me empty away. If I wish any thing, it is for
more opportunity for private prayer. Between the sick, the afflicted,
and those seeking the Lord, I have very little time to myself. However,
I feel no desire, but to do and suffer his will. While I speak to you,
I taste his goodness, above what words can describe. He knoweth, I
desire to glorify him, to be altogether his, and to feel him all my own.
I know of nothing in my soul, which is not given up to God. Pray him to
examine and prove me, and to supply what is lacking.
* * * * *
To Mrs. _J. C. M._
_November 29, 1761._
I KNOW nothing of myself. But I know and feel, that God is love. I feel,
I love him in a measure, and long for full conformity to Jesus. My soul
is happy in him; and though I have not what I used to think was implied
in the blessing which has been poured out upon many, yet I have (what
I am not sufficiently thankful for) a deeper union with the source of
blessedness, a constant sense of his unmerited love, and a knowledge
that I am less than the least of all saints. I am persuaded, nothing
shall separate me from the Lord Jesus. From him is my fruit found. In
him are the springs of consolation, which revive and endue my soul with
much strength. I trust in him, and know in whom I trust: therefore life
or death is equal.
Labour still for all the Spirit’s peaceful fruit. Jesus will bless your
attempts to glorify him. He will make you unblameable in love before
men, and unreproveable before God. Know, that the eye of earth and
heaven is upon you. Many wait for your halting: More, I trust, wish you
success in the name of the Lord: I am sure I do, and therefore write
without reserve. Take heed of your own understanding. Do not suffer
yourself to think of it, but with abasement, that you have made no
better use of it. Excuse this freedom: the motive is love unfeigned. I
find the fruit of the cross even while I write. I sit under the shadow
of my beloved, and feel him sustaining my soul. O Jesus, great is thy
goodness! great is thy mercy! even toward the meanest, me! Bless, I
pray thee, the sister of my spirit. Let her
“Antedate the joys above:
Ever feel her Saviour’s love.”
I feel my insufficiency to speak of the goodness of God. It is more
than I can express. He deals tenderly with me; and if I follow the
best pattern, I shall be patient towards all. I have felt much bodily
weakness, but no power to chuse its removal or continuance. I seem to
enjoy all I want, while I pursue what I have not attained. I am daily
more sensible how little I am. I think never one soul so utterly wanted
a complete Saviour.
*I have taken the first opportunity to write, in hopes of profiting by
your answer. I want to know the most effectual way to grow in grace;
how to improve by all things; how to make good use of the dulness which
often creeps upon my mind, and makes my soul stupidly inactive. I want
to be all attention to God; to have every faculty of my mind fixedly
waiting upon him: but I find myself beat off of this by weariness or
listlessness. I often seem to stand fast in the Lord, and am steddily
looking unto him; but (I suppose, through unwatchfulness) often lose
the deep consciousness, that, “God is here:” yet he does not condemn
me; but I abhor myself, while I see the Saviour graciously near. My
heart crieth without a voice, “Come and mould thy passive clay. Keep my
attention rightly exercised every moment.” And while I call, my Jesus
answers. O, did I pray without fainting, I should then be what I wish.
I praise the lover of your soul, that he delights to bless you. May you
ever see his full sufficiency to save, and live in the fountain-head of
bliss!
* * * * *
_January 26, 1762._
BLESSED be God, I only seek his approbation, and am content with that
alone. The night you wrote, the Lord spake to my heart, “All is your’s.”
I feel it true, for Christ is mine. Indeed he is precious to me. My
soul is satisfied with its portion. Yet “eager I ask and pant for more.”
But my wants do not discourage me. I delight to feel them, for I am
persuaded out of his fulness I shall receive a supply. Even while I
am receiving from him, he makes me capable of more. I am amazed at his
grace.
“I cannot praise him as I wou’d,
But he is merciful and good,”
and does not despise the day of small things.
I know I have been unfaithful to the grace of God; yet ♦he pardons
without upbraiding. O that every future moment may prove, I feel the
time past sufficeth! When I consider you as a younger scholar, I am
ashamed; yet I rejoice the Master loveth us both. And though he may
justly say to me, “O, slow of heart to understand,” yet he teaches
me, as I am able to receive, the lesson of his love. I often meet your
spirit, when I go in secret before our Lord. He only knows, how much I
desire you may increase, with all the increase of God. May you follow
the Lamb in all things! I praise him, that he unites me to himself, and
to all whose fellowship is with him: I thank him who gives us to drink
into one spirit. My heart feels God continually nigh. My only wish is
his will; my only desire his glory.
♦ “ye” replaced with “he”
* * * * *
_Good Friday._
*IT is given to you to suffer: and happy are you, if our Lord counts
you meet to be his companion in the garden. I love his tempted
followers above all: and his peculiar care is towards such as drink of
his cup. I am thankful to him on behalf of your soul. Faithful is he
that hath called you. He will establish your heart, and keep you from
all evil, unto his heavenly kingdom.
I always find a fight before a conquest. I am generally warned of
approaching trials, and when I am most filled with the consolations of
God, I see how amiable it is to follow my Captain, who was made perfect
through sufferings. He is daily teaching me the lesson of his cross.
When it ceases to be necessary I shall suffer no more. I am often
sensible, my own folly obliges him to put me to pain. I know he never
willingly afflicts, but chastens in order to make us partakers of his
holiness.
O praise our everlasting Friend, who never shews us a defect, but in
order to amend it: my soul longeth to live to him. I feel his mercies
new every morning. My spirit is so united to the Lord Jesus, that I am
persuaded nothing shall separate me from his love. But I have no fruit
of the Spirit, in the fulness I desire or expect. I am sensible my
privileges are far higher than my attainments: and I want to be stirred
up daily, to take the kingdom which is before me by violence.
Of late I have found private prayer the means which brought me nearest
to God: but this he often varies, as his wisdom sees best. My soul is
more simple than it was: I am learning to leave others to the care of
our Shepherd, and desire only to hear and follow him. Let your soul
delight itself in him: learn to know how he hath loved you. Be very
active in his cause, and passive to his will. My spirit is all peace.
May your’s be preserved in Christ Jesus, who hath called you to glory
and immortality.
* * * * *
_April 21._
PEACE be with your spirit! The Lord shall guide thee continually, and
satisfy thy soul in drought: thou shalt be like a watered garden; for
the Lord Jesus is your well of salvation. With joy may you draw from
his fulness, grace for every moment’s want. His design is still to do
us good; his delight is with the sons of men.
*I find my fellowship with heaven is increased since I wrote last: the
King of eternity makes me capable of communing with him, and though I
tread but the outward borders of his sanctuary, he causes me to hear
his voice, inviting me to come forward. He assures me, he will help
me to overcome, and gives me to inherit all things. But at the same
time, he shews me my works are not perfect; and that I must watch
and strengthen the things that remain. I find my safety and happiness
depend, upon my dependance on Jesus. I want every moment to begin
afresh the life of faith; to forget all things else, and be (as you
said) “a person of one business,” I have been much tempted lately,
but I count it all joy, for it profiteth my soul. I have gained more
self-contempt, and I love an empty spirit, because then there is room
for Jesus.
“O what are all our sorrows here,
If, Lord, thou count us meet
With that inraptur’d host t’ appear,
And worship at thy feet?”
It will soon be our employ. O let us now live in eternity! Antedate
the joys above, by bringing all you have and are, to his feet. Cast all
you have before him, and ascribe salvation to him, who of a stone, hath
made a daughter of _Abraham_.
I think the grace you want most is thankfulness. Stir me up to patience.
Pray that I may be nothing,
“Mean and vile in my own eyes,
Only in his wisdom wise.”
* * * * *
_Norwich, May 6._
THE Lord hath of late kept me much from reasoning myself into
perplexity. When any thing occurs which I cannot understand, I carry
it to him, who is a _wonderful Counsellor_: and he wipes away the
tears from my eyes, by assuring me he is all my own. I feel a constant
necessity of walking with the Lord, as I first received him: and I
retain peace, as it was imparted, by simple faith. Who knows the value
of faith? None but they who constantly exercise it, to their own profit,
and the Redeemer’s glory.
*I think your fears of deceiving the people, are only the result of
strong temptations. We cannot see clearly in the time of a storm.
This is not a season to examine whether we be in the faith: neither is
reason alone sufficient to determine in spiritual matters. One thing
is needful in your present situation, even to cast yourself upon the
Lord, just as you are. _Now_ come to him who waiteth to be gracious;
who saith concerning sin or infirmity, “I will cleanse the blood which
I have not cleansed.” I fear, you have reasoned with the enemy, while
you should have been looking unto Jesus; and by living a little beneath
your privileges, have been ready to give up your claim to them. But
Jesus was present, though your eyes were holden: And,
“Round you and beneath are spread
The everlasting arms.”
* * * * *
_Sunday Night._
THE Lord who inclined your heart to write, will reward your labour of
love. I find him faithful who hath promised, _My grace is sufficient
for thee_. I feel a measure of that love, which shall overcome by
enduring: all I have and am is but a small offering; but this I can
give up to Jesus. Ever since I tasted his love, I have been led in
the way of the cross. It is a royal way: the King of kings walked
in it: and while I tread in his steps, I experience the rugged way is
pleasantness, and the thorny path is peace. Since I have more than ever
gone through _evil report_, I have found more increase of faith and
love. I cannot sufficiently praise the _friend who sticketh closer than
a brother_. His banner over me is love, and my soul confesses he doth
all things well.
I praise him on your behalf also. He rejoices over you to do you good.
O lean on your Beloved with all your weight; so shall you find a sure
support. If storms rise and winds blow, they will only settle you on
the rock which cannot be moved. Believe simply; believe constantly; so
shall you love steddily and entirely. I know no other way for the just
to live, but by faith; and as we exercise faith it grows, ’till we can
say in all circumstances, _This is the victory_.
I bless my God, I feel no desire to vindicate my conduct. I know the
light of heaven shone on my path, and I am content to be approved of
God alone. I feel my heart is given up without reserve, and see fresh
cause to be daily more devoted to him. Blessed be God for Jesus Christ!
In him I enjoy all I want. Bear me on your heart before him, and ask
him to lead me to the thing and place he chuseth.
* * * * *
_July 22._
YOUR’s came in a seasonable time, as the return of prayer. I felt
some pain because I did not hear from you sooner. But our God doth
all things well; he shall supply all your wants, and make all grace
to abound towards you. He delights to complete the work he begins, and
happy is the soul that does not resist his will. He will call for the
corn and will increase it, and will lay no famine upon you. Great is
his faithfulness! Hearken diligently to the Shepherd’s voice. He will
teach us to profit by the present cross, and keep us in the spirit of
sacrifice.
I feel my need of patience. I am closely and constantly exercised,
but his grace is sufficient even for me. He generally teaches me by
applying his word to my heart, so that I have cause to esteem it more
than fine gold. I was greatly oppressed some nights ago, and found
immediate deliverance from these words, _As birds flying, so will
the Lord of hosts defend_ Jerusalem. _Defending also he will deliver,
and passing over he will preserve it._ I find much union with you,
and believe you bear my burdens, and abide in prayer for me. I cannot
forget you, and our friend in heaven remembers you for good.
I can no longer refrain from saying, Be strong in the grace that is in
Christ Jesus. Let none beguile you of your simplicity, or the reward
that attends it. I believe your light is shining out of obscurity, and
will shine unto the perfect day. You are coming unto the light that
your deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God. In his
light you behold yourself of _the circumcision, who worship God in the
Spirit, rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh_.
*_They have great peace who love his law, and nothing shall offend them;
he keeps us night and day._ I pleaded this promise last night, and
made it my own by believing. He did keep my imagination, while I slept,
subject to himself. Since I returned into the country, I have been
blest with peace, which temptation of various kinds did not ruffle. My
determination to know nothing but Jesus crucified, is much strengthened.
This moment I can give up all for him, and do all things through him
strengthening me. I have a testimony that I please him, and count his
dear reproach greater treasure than the wealth or praise of men.
Be faithful in all things; this is your privilege; live up to it this
moment. You know the way, walk therein, and pray always for
_Your affectionate sister, And obliged friend_.
* * * * *
REJOICE in the Lord always; again I say rejoice. For he is become your
everlasting light, and the days of your mourning are ended. I believe
your sun shall no more go down, but you shall dwell on high. Your place
of defence is in the munition of rocks; bread of life is given you;
your waters shall not fail. Your eyes see the King in his beauty,
and he will cause you to know him who was from the beginning. I drink
with you into one spirit. Help me to bless God for the consolation;
it increases by being mutual. My soul seems lost in wonder, love and
praise, and is melted into thankful tears. Every sensation of gratitude
in earth or heaven is bought with thy blood, O precious Jesus! the
power to feel my obligations to him, proceedeth from above, and when
we reach the top-stone, we shall still shout “Grace, grace unto it.”
*I have all this day been in a disposition to cast my crown at his feet.
I cannot express how much I choose to give all the glory to Christ my
Lord. All within me acknowledges he is worthy to receive all glory.
My love to Mrs. ――――. Tell her, not one tittle shall fail of all the
good things God hath spoken to her of. Only let her be strong, and not
stagger at any of the promises. I believe, I need not say, pray always
for
_Your most affectionate sister in Jesus_.
* * * * *
To Mrs. _E. D._
_My dear friend_,
I Know you will rejoice to hear, God has gotten himself the victory,
in the most stubborn heart, that ever submitted to Jesus.
He is my king, and makes me sit
In willing bonds beneath his feet.
Praise him, O my soul, praise him, O my sister, for still he is
bringing lost sinners to God. Yea, he has brought _me_ to God. I feel
myself weak as helpless infancy; but Christ my strength is with me: at
last I am a fool for his sake.
*When I left you on Friday, and had finished my business, I sat down
alone and in misery. The Lord directed me to those words: _be not
affrighted: I know whom ye seek; Jesus of Nazareth: he is not here, he
is risen, and lo he goeth before you into Galilee; there shall you see
him_. I believed I should, and came home in peaceful expectation. One
who had seen his great salvation prayed, that he would bless me also:
but my own wisdom opposed his coming, and the conflict was great. At
length my vehement soul stood still, and the mountains flowed down at
his presence. My heart was filled with holy shame and humble joy: I was
a little child. I entered the kingdom; we praised our King till morning,
and his praise is ever new and sweet. The Lord causes us to cease from
our own works, and he is glorified. O pray for us! Pray for _me_, who
every moment need the merit of his death. I can say no more, but I do
love Christ, and I love _you_ better than ever.
* * * * *
_My dear friend_,
TRULY God is loving unto _Israel_, even unto me: nevertheless my feet
had well nigh slipt, for I was grieved at the wicked, and pained by the
good. I have been more exercised in mind than ever I was before, and
the last conflict always felt severest: but I begin to see that all
these things work together for my good. I never was so much saved from
trusting in any creature; Jesus was never more lovely in my eyes; I
feel him only desirable; I cannot repeat his compassions, for they
are endless. I proved them to be sufficient for me, when all besides
failed me. I doubt not but I made my cross heavier than love intended,
by my own folly: but the teacher of _Israel_ rectifies mistakes with
tenderness known only to himself. At present my desire is, to overcome
by enduring. I want to think and act under the eye of him who loves
me, and every moment to feel it upon me. My soul longs for nearer
acquaintance with God. I know neither men nor devils need hinder my
intercourse with Jesus. O that I were wise to improve what I receive,
and faithful to retain what his mercy gives!
Use your interest for me at the throne of grace: and go on through your
croud of difficulties, aiming at Jesus. He alone is worthy your pursuit!
We are forced to _feel_ as well as _see_: God alone is our support. I
have had much of his peaceful presence. He is indeed greater than our
fears, and better than our hopes. I was much tried on Friday; but since
that I have had no painful emotion. I feel for _you_ in the tenderest
manner my heart is capable. I see Jesus will vindicate his own, and
claim all your heart for himself. He sees what wounds it, and will
give medicine to heal all its sickness. I believe “all you feel is
mercy.” But are you strong enough to support the weight? Why should
his blessings be insupportable, through our softness of spirit? O
that my friend were less susceptible of those impressions! O that
a dull disciple might teach you to be in some matters more slow of
understanding, of a more insensible spirit!
I see the commandment is exceeding broad, and this makes Christ
exceeding precious. How valuable the advocate with the Father! My soul
desires to know nothing but him crucified. May you feel life, abundant
life in that knowledge! O how much my Saviour loves you? I feel a
little of the sounding of his bowels toward you, and my heart cleaves
to him, for his goodness to you. He counts you worthy to suffer. O be
thankful for this special mark of his love!
* * * * *
*ALL this week I have been tried, but with intervals of rest. God is a
jealous God, and will be loved alone: Jesus will convince us in time,
that he alone is worthy of every power of the soul. I see a field of
religion before me, which I want to walk in. I know I am called to make
a perpetual offering of myself, and every enjoyment, to the will of God.
I do long to be a Christian. My heart goeth out after this: when will
it once be? That promise is now brought to my mind, _They shalt grow as
willows by the water-courses_. ’Tis a mournful tree; I think we shall
be weeping willows, ’till we are taken into the paradise of _God_. The
peculiar privilege _there_ is, all tears shall be wiped away from our
eyes.
O how little do I know the meaning of Jesus? Surely ’tis mercy
all. Even the minutest circumstance is by his order, and under his
inspection. And he will suffer nothing to hurt the apple of his eye.
*I am to-day very weak in body. I feel the power of sympathizing with
all in the house. All are tried. O Adam, what hast thou done? O Jesus,
what hast thou suffered? How thou canst recover! Lord, let us know thy
utmost power to save!
MY heart feels pure union with yours. I love you as disinterestedly
as I think I can. Sure the Lord is pouring upon you the spirit of
sacrificing all to him. I wish you good luck in his name! Go on, my
dear friend. Life is a noble thing, while our employment is doing the
will of God from the heart. May you clearly see what it is concerning
you. I have at present, peace inward and outward. Pray, pray that I may
“Be thankful and humble,
But never stand still.”
*I WANT your prayers and advice. I feel myself daily weaker, and
more foolish than ever. I am as a little child learning to walk, and
cannot go alone. At present I am guided by Jesus, and feel his grace
sufficient for me; but there are depths of the Deity I want to fathom.
I long to be lost in the immensity of his love!
My soul enjoys peace, solid peace at bottom: but its surface is filled
with fights and fears. I am afraid of being too _outward_; I want grace
to _deepen_ in my soul. Blessed be God, my every want shall be supplied,
from his fulness who filleth all.
MY dear friend gave me another proof of her tenderness, by not
upbraiding me with neglect. I think you ought to go to the meetings [on
Fridays] by all means: pray for those who speak not according to the
law and the testimony. You will feel more deeply the help that is done
upon earth: the Lord doth it himself. What is man that he is mindful of
him! What is God, that he can be gracious to us! O may our souls every
moment know, by a nearer acquaintance with him, that he is love!
You are laid upon my heart to pray for: sure God is faithful to his
word, he _will_ hear and answer, and endue your soul with much strength.
“Suffering faith shall brighter grow,
As gold when in the furnace tried.”
*I am persuaded your Lord will be with you, and make your weakness
more than conquer. He is wonderful in counsel; he has a way in the
whirlwind: he cannot mean any thing but mercy to your soul: for he has
given himself and all that he counted dear to you! What then would you
with-hold from him? Methinks I hear you say, “Nothing. I would offer
all I have or am to his will, when I know it is _his_.” And can you
doubt this? _Is there an evil in the city, and the Lord hath not done
it?_ Can a sparrow fall, or _Shimei_ curse _David_ without permission?
Nay, Satan himself can do nothing without leave. O my God, shine on thy
servant’s heart, that she may see thy hand of love holds the cup. And
if she is called
“To bear the full anguish,
The uttermost load,
Yet give her to languish
And suffer like God!”
My dear friend, what shall I say, to dissuade you from over much
sorrow? I can only love you, and speak to Jesus, that he may order
your conduct to his glory.
* * * * *
_May, 1762. Norwich._
JOIN to praise the Lord, who still supports my feebleness of mind,
carries all my burdens, and suffers me to desire nothing but his
righteous, glorious will. I see infinite wisdom and unfathomable love,
in all his dispensations towards me: I can now believe, that all things
shall work together for good: I want words to tell you the sense I
have of the goodness of God, far better felt than described: I find his
consolations sufficient to support me under present difficulties, and
am persuaded his grace will be equal to every future trial. I like your
proposal, but dare scarce form one plan. May the Lord do with me as is
good in his sight!
* * * * *
To the Reverend Mr. ――――.
_February 21, 1761._
YOUR obliging request lays me under a happy necessity, of calling to
mind the past mercies of God. May every review of them bring trust for
future blessings, and thankfulness for the present.
*Ever since I can remember, I was desirous of happiness; but I did not
seek it in God. I thought if I was religious, I should go to heaven;
but I knew not the nature of true religion, and I was unwilling to be
under the restraint of that I did know: yet so great a stranger was I
to myself, that I often thought, if I knew what God required, I would
perform it. At sixteen I was confirmed, and made many resolutions;
but they soon wore off. I had a strong impression on my mind, that I
should die when I was four and twenty. I reflected on those who were
put apprentice seven years to learn a trade, and thought I ought to use
like application, to learn the business of eternity.
I went to the sacrament the day I was eighteen, and found uncommon
satisfaction: I exhorted others to do the same, thinking I had now done
all that was commanded me, and that if I continued in the same way, I
should be a very profitable servant.
Soon after this I went to _London_, for eight weeks, where I heard
Mr. _Jones_ (of _Southwark_) preach, and was affected at hearing of
the sufferings of Christ, much as I used to be at seeing or reading
of a tragedy. I was afterwards asked to hear Mr. _Romaine_. I did so,
but could not understand him. The night I left _London_, some persons
were debating about the Millennium. One of them repeated part of the
20th chapter of the _Revelation_. I was struck at the awful words, and
thought if Christ was then to come, I was not prepared to meet him. I
went home very serious, and began to search the scriptures, and to be
more strict than ever. I was often troubled, but knew not the cause,
and was ashamed to confess my fears. My friends thought I had a fever
on my spirits, and I thought so too; but as I read much, I began to
fear, that with all my religion, I was not converted. I wanted to go
to _London_, that I might hear Mr. _Romaine_. A year after I went to
_London_ with my father-in-law. At the inn where we lay, I saw Mr.
_Whitefield_’s sermons. I read what I could, and determined to hear him.
He was not in town; but I was much affected with Mr. _Dyer_’s preaching.
Afterwards I not only went to St. _Dunstan_’s, but to all the methodist
places of worship I knew, and one evening heard Mr. _Walsh_, at
_West-street_. He preached the necessity of that _holiness, without
which none can see the Lord_. His words were as arrows in my heart:
I found all my former righteousness deficient: I knew this could
not obtain mercy; but I did not feel I deserved hell. I wrote to Mr.
_Romaine_ to know, what I should do to be saved? He desired to see me,
and told me, two things were necessary, to know my want of Christ, and
my interest in him. I went home with the greatest reluctance; for I
knew no Christians in the town where I lived. My former acquaintance
thought me mad: my mother was greatly alarmed. Not long after I went
to _Norwich_ for a few days, and found out Mr. _Mitchell_. He spoke
to me of the peace which faith brings to the conscience. I knew myself
a stranger to this; but would willingly have suffered the rack, so
I might attain it. I went home, and was, for five or six weeks, in a
most unhappy situation. Before, I was not bad enough to come to Christ;
now, I was too bad for him to receive; yet the Lord dealt tenderly with
me, and at different times brought many encouraging scriptures to my
mind. But still the stupidity and unbelief I felt caused me to mourn
in secret. Still I was constrained to say,
“Scarce I begin my sad complaint,
When all my warmest wishes faint:
Hardly I lift my weeping eye,
When all my kindling ardors die:
Nor hopes nor fears my bosom move,
For still I cannot, cannot love!”
I could not rest thus, though I concluded, it would always be the case:
I expected to be miserable all my life, and to perish at the last: I
found it as easy to reach heaven with my hand, as to believe Jesus died
for _me_. I felt, _no one can come to Christ, except the Father draw
him_. Now I knew, it was the work of God, to believe on him whom he
hath sent. I prayed he would work faith in _me_, but seemed as distant
from God as hell from heaven: I was cut off from all self-dependence:
I was a sinner stript of all.
I was on my knees striving to pray, when I heard inwardly a voice say,
“Thy sins are forgiven thee.” I felt the truth of it in my heart, and
in a moment prayer was lost in praise. I called upon the angels to join
with me, in blessing him who died for _me_! He caused his goodness to
pass before me, and I rejoiced with joy unspeakable.
Yet in a few hours after I began to fear I had deceived myself, and all
was delusive. I was much distressed, and had recourse to prayer, and
the Lord repeated his mercies, and impressed the same words on my mind,
more strongly than before. I was more assured of his forgiving love,
and enjoyed much peace in believing. I now thought, I never could sin
more. My mind was taken up with God, and I conversed with him as a man
would with his friend. My confidence in him was unshaken, and my hope
full of immortality.
I wanted others to rejoice with me; but they were _strangers to
Jesus_, and _intermeddled not with_ my _joy_. I lamented being alone.
My nearest friends thought I carried things too far. My mother was
more alarmed; for I could not speak but on religious subjects. A
neighbouring clergyman advised her to confine me, if I offered to hear
the Methodists. This I did at all opportunities, though none was nearer
than four miles off. Her tenderness gave me much pain. I was sorry
to grieve her in any thing; and yet I did not dare to oblige her, by
acting contrary to my conscience. I could not play at cards, nor join
in trifling discourse, though my refusal was deemed preciseness.
I was near two years at home after this. Then the Lord fulfilled
his promise: He _gave me the bread of adversity and the water of
affliction_; but _my eyes_ did _see my teachers_. I was now more
desirous than ever, to be made conformable to the will of God: but
I thought, to believe the doctrine of perfection, was derogating from
the priestly office of Christ.
When I first saw you, Sir, at _Norwich_, notwithstanding my prejudice
to your opinions, I found that reverence and esteem for you, which
have increased ever since. My understanding was then better informed,
and my desires more fervent for all the grace God had in store for me.
I trust my soul is still alive to God, and athirst for righteousness.
He has borne my manners in the wilderness, and sustains me in my
utter helplessness. He continues to multiply his pardons, and heap his
benefits upon me. Every trial is sent in mercy; every temptation is
permitted for my good; every cross has proved a blessing in disguise.
In _his_ light I see this: I believe he is able to keep me from
falling, and to make me perfect and entire, lacking nothing. My present
situation requires more of every grace, than any I have been in before:
but, I trust, he in whom all fulness dwells, will supply my every want.
I would not have troubled you with so long a letter, but indeed “I had
not time to make it shorter.” And I am desirous to prove by every means,
that I regard your advice, and on all occasions speak with freedom. I
am, dear Sir,
_Your obliged Servant_,
J. C.
* * * * *
_April 14, 1761._
_Reverend and dear Sir_,
GOD has been more gracious to my soul than I could ask or think. I find
him as a place of broad waters, deep and large, and I feel my inability
to fathom that depth of love. In Jesus are all the treasures of wisdom
and knowledge hid: and he has begun to reveal them to the most ignorant
soul. But it is impossible to describe the goodness of God, the great
God, to so unworthy an object!
From the last morning you preached, I was stirred up to seek him more
diligently than ever. You then discovered my heart to me, and what was
wanting there. I was kept in prayer, and would have parted with all
things, so I might win Christ. I wanted to love him with all my heart;
but my own wisdom was his rival. Nothing less than Omnipotence could
destroy this: and his own right hand got the victory. I was made
sensible how compleatly foolish, and entirely helpless I was. My
vehement soul stood still; and I saw Jesus was all my salvation. He
was all my desire; and I knew he was made unto me sanctification and
redemption. He appears as a priest, upon the throne, who shall bear the
glory for ever. I feel my continual need of him, in all his offices.
He is truly precious to my soul; but I want to know him more, and the
power of his resurrection. I am happy in his love; but I want more
intimate acquaintance and a deeper union with him. I see, the just
shall live by faith: and unto me, who am less than the least of all
saints, is this grace given. If I were an archangel, I should veil my
face before him, and let silence speak his praise!
* * * * *
_May 2._
I BELIEVE, while memory remains in me, gratitude will continue. I know,
many are the troubles of the righteous: but out of them all doth the
Lord deliver. I have never desired to hide any distress or difficulty
from you at any time. Is this any reason, why you should tell _me_,
what those are which now surround you? If I could remove the least of
them by knowing it, I should be importunate.
From the time you preached on _Galatians_ v. 5. I saw clearly the true
state of my soul. That sermon described my heart, and what it wanted
to be truly happy. You read Mr. _M._’s letter, and it described the
religion which I desired. From that time the prize appeared in view,
and I was enabled to follow hard after it. I was kept watching unto
prayer, sometimes in much distress, at others in patient expectation
of the blessing. For some days before you left _London_, my soul was
stayed on a promise I had applied to me in prayer, _The Lord whom ye
seek shall suddenly come to his temple_. I believed he would, and that
he would sit there as a refiner’s fire. The Tuesday after you went,
I thought I could not sleep, unless he fulfilled his word that night.
I never knew, as I did then, the force of these words, _Be still, and
know that I am God_. I became nothing before him, and enjoyed perfect
calmness in my soul. I knew not whether he had destroyed my sin; but I
desired to know, that I might praise him. Yet I soon found the return
of unbelief, and groaned, being burdened. On Wednesday I went to
_London_, and sought the Lord without ceasing. I promised, if he would
save me from sin, I would praise him. I could part with all things,
so I might win Christ. But I found all these pleas nothing worth,
and that if he saved _me_, it must be freely for his own name’s sake.
On Thursday, after I had been with _S. Guildford_, and _B. Dixon_,
I was so much tempted, that I thought of destroying myself, or never
conversing more with the people of God. And yet I had no doubt of his
pardoning love: but “’twas worse than death my God to love, and not
my God alone.” On Friday my distress was deepened. I endeavoured to
pray, and could not. I went to Mrs. _D._ who prayed for me, and told
me, it was the death of nature. I opened the bible on _the fearful and
unbelieving――shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire
and brimstone_. I could not bear it. I opened it again on _Mark xvi.
6, 7._ _Be not affrighted: Ye seek Jesus of Nazareth.――Go your way;
tell his disciples, he goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye
see him._ I was encouraged, and enabled to pray, believing I should see
Jesus at home. I returned that night, and found Mrs. _G._ She prayed
for me: and the Predestinarian had no plea, but, “Lord, thou art no
respecter of persons.” He proved he was not, by blessing _me_. I was
in a moment enabled to lay hold on Jesus Christ, and found salvation
by simple faith. He assured me, the Lord, the King was in the midst
of me, and that I should see evil no more. I now blessed him, who
had visited and redeemed me, and was become my wisdom, righteousness,
sanctification, and redemption. I saw Jesus altogether lovely, and knew
he was mine in all his offices. And glory be to him, he now reigns in
my heart without a rival. I find no will but his. I feel no pride, nor
any affection but what is placed upon him. I know, it is by faith I
stand, and that watching unto prayer must be the guard of faith. I am
happy in God this moment, and I believe for the next. I have often read
the chapter you mention, and compared my heart and life with it. In
so doing, I find my short-comings, and the need I have of the atoning
blood. Yet I dare not say, I do not feel a measure of the love there
described, though I am not all I shall be. I desire to be lost in that
love which passeth knowledge. I wish for no joy, but what increases
love.
* * * * *
_London, September 29, 1762._
_Reverend and dear Sir_,
I THANK you for another proof of your care for my soul, in the
enquiries you make. I bless my Lord, his grace is sufficient to make me
answer, without hesitation, every question you propose. I have for many
months enjoyed such a continuance of the presence of my beloved, as
makes me feel I am less than the least of his mercies. The beholding of
him, who is fairer than the sons of men, the sight of Christ crucified,
prevents the touch of pride, and makes me hate the garment spotted
by the flesh. The testimony that I desire is not from man, and the
approbation of God never makes me high-minded. Rather I rejoice to him
with reverence. He teaches me to delight myself in him: and I feel, I
cannot be displeased with any thing that is his choice, I know that I
please him; for he testifies of my works, that they are wrought in him.
Indeed Jesus is unspeakably precious.
“Words are too mean to speak his worth,
Too mean to set my Saviour forth.”
He daily makes to me new discoveries of his grace and power, and every
fresh manifestation more effectually unites my heart to him who is
altogether lovely. I love my friends in him: he gives the affection
I feel, and it always leads to him. I believe, when I quit the
inconveniencies of mortality, I shall love with greater “strength and
elegance,” every friend to whom Jesus has now united my soul. And what
we now know in part, we shall prove in eternity, _God is love; and
whoso dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, and God in him_. My desire for
you is, that you may increase with all the increase of God, and return
to us in the fulness of the gospel of peace. I believe you will, and
that you will be a blessing to me and many.
I think Mr. _Bell_ is willing to take any advice you think proper to
give him. I repeat what I said before: they that seek dissension, are
not friends to the work of God. I trust you labour for peace, and the
God of peace shall be with you always.
I daily give up all to Jesus, and have no sacrifice to make, which is
not offered up already. He gives me strength for all he calls me to
bear: and I find it easy for the love which _believes_, to _endure all
things_.
May the God whom you serve bless your labours with great success! I
wish you good luck in his name. The weapons of your warfare are mighty
through him: you need not fight uncertainly, as one that beateth the
air, but prove in every circumstance, _This is the victory, even our
faith_. Continue to shew your care over me, by reproving and advising
me as you judge needful. I am sensible of all my obligations to you,
and am,
_Dear Sir_,
_Your obliged and affectionate Servant_.
SOME ACCOUNT
OF
THE EXPERIENCE
OF
E. J.
1. FOR many years I had a desire to love God, and thought I could
submit to be of any sect or denomination, if this would bring me nearer
to him: only rejecting the name of a _Methodist_. For I thought them
to be a deluded people, and the off scouring of the earth. I was in
this temper, when I heard a Minister preach on _All mine are thine,
and thine are mine_. It came to my heart, and I found such a measure
of happiness, as I never had done before. But having none to strengthen
my hands, or build me up, it gradually died away.
2. After this, a clergyman having been at prayers, a gentlewoman asked
me, how I liked him? I said, “Very well: he has had a liberal education,
and speaks in a graceful manner.” She said, “But man cannot reach the
heart. Did you ever hear the small still voice, whispering peace to
your soul?” I felt something of prejudice rise at the question, and
replied, “I have lived a good life. I have done no harm, and I do not
omit my duty. I go to church every day.” She said, “I am sorry you have
got no further.” I was surprised at her impertinence, and rose up to
go away. She intreated me to stay a little, saying, “I have but another
word to speak. If you are not delivered by a higher power than you have
known yet, you will never be saved.” The word _higher power_ struck
me to the heart, and brought a ray of light, which shewed me, that
notwithstanding all my works, I was _without God in the world_. I found
a load of guilt which struck me with terror. I saw my heart was as a
cage of unclean birds. I believed, now I shall be a castaway, and knew
not where to hide me. I could not speak, but withdrew and retired to my
closet, and wrestled with God in mighty prayer. I resolved not to let
him go till he had blessed me: crying, “I renounce all I am and all I
have: if thou hast any blessing for me, bless me now!” Thus I continued
an hour, when those words came with power, _Abide in me and I in thee_.
I cried out with much assurance, “My Lord and my God! What is this thou
hast done for me?” In the twinkling of an eye my soul was quickened.
The seed of God was sown in my heart. My sins were blotted out, and I
was raised from the dead, by the word of reconciliation. I felt virtue
proceed from Christ, which took away my sins. I now partook of Angel’s
food, and knew that I was born of God.
3. For three weeks I remained exceeding happy. My lamp was lighted,
and I had oil in my vessel. The scriptures were opened to me, and were
spirit and life: in the Lord’s supper I found the peace that passeth
all understanding. None can express the excellency of the virtue
which flows from the merits of Christ. I was grafted into the vine,
and thereby enabled to _draw water out of the wells of salvation_.
Yet I found, there was much in me contrary to the will of God. I had
not all the mind that was in Christ. Nay, there remained much of the
carnal mind. There was enmity, and strife, and vainglory, which soon
embittered my sweets. My heart was bent to backsliding, and continually
ready to comply with the suggestions of Satan. I gave way to evil
reasoning, which caused peevishness and impatience: and these ate the
life of God out of my soul. I could not _endure hardness_: in every
storm I was ready to give up my confidence. I could not love God with
an undivided heart. It was my desire, to praise him without ceasing:
but I could not perform it, for some hindrance was still coming in the
way. The Lord often refreshed me by the way: but this did not satisfy.
What I wanted was, to have my heart entirely devoted to him. But I
found there remained in me a root of bitterness, a stubborn will, and a
diabolical nature, capable of committing all manner of wickedness, were
it not for restraining grace. Yet I had no light into the scriptures,
so as to divide the word, and make a distinction between the justifying
and the sanctifying promises. So I was content to be a babe, if my
inward corruptions would have let me be at peace. Yea, I had in my
heart an utter aversion to the doctrine of entire sanctification, and
found all the enmity in me rose against those who spoke of experiencing
it. One day hearing a preacher say, we could not live many hours after
we were sanctified, my heart readily joined with him. But presently
I was struck with those words, _Without holiness no man shall see the
Lord_. I fain would have stifled this conviction. At least, I cared not
to think of it yet. I thought, Why it is but thirteen months since I
was justified. And need I think of being sanctified already? However,
if ever I should be, none shall ever know it. But the light increased
more and more, and my desires at the same time, till I hungred and
thirsted vehemently for something, but I knew not what. One day I was
constrained to come unto the Lord, and was seized with an awful sense
of his Majesty. I trembled, and for some moments was as in a silent
darkness. I was ready to cry, Whither am I going? For it seemed, as if
he was going to strike the blow, and send me to everlasting destruction.
But I found a spark of light, and cried, “Where is my Jesus? He can
_save to the uttermost_.” Presently I cried, “Lord, come quickly!” Yet
I had a dread of his coming; for it appeared, as if something strange
was going to happen to me. But I said, “Lord, thou prayest for me: O
pray for me, that I may _now_ get the victory! Help _now_ my unbelief!
Renew me wholly in thy image and likeness! Give me faith, and faith’s
increase, that I may be wholly saved from sin.” I then found fresh
strength, and cried vehemently, “If thou hast any blessing for me,
bless me now! Unworthy as I am, yet I claim, in Christ, my full
redemption. I mean to take no denial. Give me all thou hast purchased.
Loose me from myself, that I may lie passive in thy hand. Lord, if thou
wilt, thou canst make me clean!” But I found there was a dark cloud,
which still remained between God and my soul. Then I cried, “Lord, let
me touch the scepter of thy righteousness. I resign my life and my all.
Make me now whole, and take me to thyself.” While I thus pleaded, I was
in an agony between hope and despair, till those words came as a mighty
rushing wind, _A clean heart I give unto thee_. I received the word
with gladness and in much assurance. Soon after came, _Be not faithless,
but believing_. At these happy words every cloud was dispelled, and
I saw the light which shineth to the perfect day. I found access to
the holy of holies, where I now see the Trinity in Unity. The Lord
_shineth_ unto me _in perfect beauty_: I enjoy an inseparable union
with him without intermission. The little leaven has leavened the whole
lump. All my senses are now fully employed in spiritual exercise. The
love of God, flaming in my heart as an unquenchable fire, has burnt
up all the dross, and destroyed every plant which was not of his own
planting. I find that oneness with him, being made _one spirit with
the Lord_, which enables me to walk with him like _Enoch_, so that I
converse with him by his Spirit, as ♦familiarly _as a man doth with his
friend_. I find now no want, no inward conflict, but my soul dwells in
a peaceable habitation. I am enabled to walk as in the noon-day sun:
my heart is fixed, and my soul is watered every moment. Yet the fear
of the Lord is ever before me, lest I should grieve the Holy Spirit. I
watch and guard the sacred treasure in my heart, not daring to give way
to a word or thought, without finding the approbation of the Lord, by
the powerful operation of his Spirit. Hereby I know and _prove what is
that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God_. He manifests his
strength in my weakness. I am but a worm; yet he delights to bless me,
and has made me perfect in his love, so that nothing interrupts my joy.
He enables me, not to lose a moment of time, and to live but a moment
at once. My _hope_ is _full of immortality_; and I find no want of
spiritual food, no more than if I was in heaven already. Nothing in me
opposes the will of God: in nothing can I either wish or chuse. For he
hath given me to _walk before him in all well-pleasing_, and to _sit in
heavenly places with Christ Jesus_. My loins are girt, my lamp burning,
and my soul flourishing as the palm-tree.
♦ “familiary” replaced with “familiarly”
4. For these ten years I have enjoyed this haven of rest. It has been
to me as a day without a cloud. I never have had a tedious moment, nor
a murmuring thought. I have been tempted in all things; yet nothing
obscures my light, or obstructs my way; but still _I rejoice evermore,
pray without ceasing, and in every thing give thanks_. My heart is
prepared, whenever my Lord knocks, to open to him immediately. For
grace has overcome death: the thoughts of death are my glory and joy. I
know, that I am every moment ready to be offered, being made in Christ
unrebukeable, without spot, a spiritual sacrifice, wholly devoted to
God.
5. God now permitted the grace he had given to be tried. I was not born
to dwell on one spot of ground, but was banished from all that was near
and dear to me, and driven from city to city. I now proved the happy
effects of faith. When I was buffetted by Satan, his darts took no
place in me: I defied him, and all his works. When I am roughly treated
by the world, _I stand still, and see the salvation of God_. And the
more I am tempted, so much the more the pure flame revives; and the
love of God, ever flaming in the heart, keeps out every occasion of
stumbling. This enables me to _rejoice in tribulation_, and glory
in the cross: for I find, by his grace, my soul is _even as mount
Zion, which cannot be moved_. I am freed from all anxious thoughts and
painful fears. I _take no thought for the morrow_. I live to-day, and
have nothing to do but to die. I know, my soul is prepared to meet my
God. In nothing hitherto have I been ashamed, with all boldness giving
thanks unto the Lord. And now I ascribe all glory to him, who hath made
me a partaker of that holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord.
6. Think it not strange, that he should give this suddenly. When he
comes to justify, he comes quickly. And when he comes to sanctify,
he comes quickly. This also is an instantaneous work. And no man can
love God with all his heart, and grow up into Christ in all things,
so as to enjoy all the mind that was in Christ, till he is _sanctified
throughout, body, soul, and spirit_.
7. As we were justified, so are we sanctified by one single act of
faith. Then is the soul made like a flame of fire, and the heart is
in one continual frame of praising God. Then the fulness of Christ is
brought into the soul; even as much of the glory of God as this earthly
tabernacle can bear. Then is our inbred sin destroyed. This is the
cause of all our transgressions, and while any of this remains, it is
the believer’s hell, and makes him cry out, _Who shall deliver me from
the body of this death_? Christ will deliver you. He has purchased for
you a full redemption. He has regained paradise, and restores the soul
to that acquaintance with God which _Adam_ lost. By faith, I ever see
him that is invisible, and converse with him, as it were, face to face.
I stand naked before the Lord, and am not ashamed; but rejoice in being
sensible, that he knows the secret thoughts of my heart. I rejoice,
that he has taught me to _put on the whole armour of God_, and has made
it as easy to me, to do and suffer the will of God, as it is to _the
sparks to fly upward_.
8. Pull off then this veil of unbelief, and trample sin and Satan
under your feet. Be _you_ also a faithful witness of Christ, that he
is _able to save to the uttermost_, that he hath power even on earth to
save from all sin, _from all filthiness both of flesh and spirit_. My
experience will profit another nothing, unless applied to the heart by
the Spirit of God. And is not this the one thing needful for _you_, to
be _filled with faith and with the Holy Ghost_? May the Lord hasten the
time, when this faith shall cover the earth, _as the water covers the
sea_! Then shall they not need to teach this to one another: For _all
shall know Him, from the least even to the greatest_.
9. O that sinners would give up their own wisdom, and become fools,
that they may be made wise! Cannot the Lord do a great work in a
little time? In the hour that he convinced _me_ of the necessity of
it, before that hour was expired, I was justified. Thirteen months
after (as I before observed,) I was convinced of the necessity of full
sanctification. That night, before I slept, God gave me the blessing.
And is he a _respecter of persons_? Who then would not cry unto him?
Who would not spend a few hours in fervent prayer? O let your hearts
yield! Draw near unto the Lord, and he will draw near unto _you_. He
will draw you after him by the cords of his love, and you will begin
to _smell the sweet odour of his ointments_. Then open your hearts to
my beloved; for _his voice is sweet, and his countenance comely. Let
my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruit._ He says,
_Arise, my love, and come away!_ I will chide thee no more for thy
past follies. Only now _give me thy heart_. Thou shalt then find, _the
winter is past, the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the
turtle is heard in the land_. Then will you get new eyes, new hearts,
new delights, and every thing will have a satisfying relish. Then will
you chide yourselves, for having been so long in pursuit of the things
that perish in the using! Then will he give you the pearl that _Adam_
lost, that heart-felt union with God, whereby you shall steadily enjoy
his immediate presence: and his presence makes our paradise. You shall
walk in the light, having his bright beams ever shining upon you. So
that
Not a cloud shall arise,
To darken the skies,
Or hide for a moment the Lord from your eyes.
An EARNEST APPEAL
TO MEN OF
REASON and RELIGION.
JOHN vii. 51.
_Doth our law judge any man BEFORE it HEAR him,
and KNOW WHAT HE DOTH?_
ALTHOUGH it is with us a _very small thing to be judged of you or of
man’s judgment_, seeing we know God will _make our innocency as clear
as the light, and our just dealing as the noon-day_; yet are we ready
to give any that are willing to hear, a plain account, both of our
principles and actions: as having _renounced the hidden things of
shame_, and desiring nothing more, _than by manifestation of the truth
to commend ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of_ God.
*2. We see (and who does not?) the numberless follies and miseries of
our fellow-creatures. We see on every side, either men of no religion
at all, or men of a lifeless, formal religion. We are grieved at the
sight, and should greatly rejoice, if by any means we might convince
some, that there is a better religion to be attained, a religion worthy
of God that gave it. And this we conceive to be no other than love; the
love of God, and of all mankind; the loving God with all our heart and
soul, and strength, as having first loved _us_, as the fountain of all
the good we have received, and of all we ever hope to enjoy; and the
loving every soul which God hath made, every man on earth, as our own
soul.
*3. This love we believe to be the medicine of life, the never-failing
remedy, for all the evils of a disordered world, for all the miseries
and vices of men. Wherever this is, there are virtue and happiness,
going hand in hand. There is humbleness of mind, gentleness, long
suffering, the whole image of God, and at the same time a peace that
passeth all understanding, and joy unspeakable and full of glory.
“Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind;
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d:
Desires compos’d, affections ever even,
Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to heav’n.”
4. This religion we long to see established in the world, a religion of
love, and joy, and peace, having its seat in the inmost soul, but ever
shewing itself by its fruits, continually springing forth not only in
all innocence, (for love worketh no ill to his neighbour) but likewise
in every kind of beneficence, spreading virtue and happiness all around
it.
5. This religion have we been following after for many years, as many
know, if they would testify: but all this time, seeking wisdom we found
it not; we were spending our strength in vain. And being now under full
conviction of this, we declare it to all mankind: for we desire not
that others should wander out of the way, as we have done before them;
but rather that they may profit by our loss, that they may go (tho’
we did not, having then no man to guide us) the straight way to the
religion of love, even by faith.
*6. Now faith (supposing the scripture to be of God) is πραγμάτων
♦ἔλεγχος οὐ βλεπομένων, the demonstrative evidence of things unseen,
the supernatural evidence of things invisible, not perceivable by eyes
of flesh, or by any of our natural senses or faculties. Faith is that
divine evidence, whereby the spiritual man discerneth God, and the
things of God. It is with regard to the spiritual world, what sense is
with regard to the natural. It is the spiritual sensation of every soul
that is born of God.
♦ “ἔαγχος οὑ βλπομένων” replaced with “ἔλεγχος οὐ βλεπομένων”
7. Perhaps you have not considered it in this view; I will then explain
it a little further.
Faith, according to the scriptural account, is the eye of the new-born
soul. Hereby every true believer in God, _seeth him who is invisible_.
Hereby (in a more particular manner, since life and immortality have
been brought to light by the gospel) he _seeth the light of the glory
of God in the face of Jesus Christ_; and, _beholdeth what manner of
love it is, which the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we_ (who are
born of the Spirit) _should be called the sons of God_.
It is the ear of the soul, whereby a sinner _hears the voice of the Son
of God and lives_; even that voice which alone wakes the dead, _Son,
thy sins are forgiven thee_.
It is (if I may be allowed the expression) the palate of the soul: for
hereby a believer _tastes the good word, and the powers of the world to
come_; and _hereby he both tastes and sees that God is gracious_, yea,
_and merciful to him a sinner_.
It is the feeling of the soul, whereby a believer perceives, thro’
the _power of the Highest over-shadowing him_, both the existence and
the presence of him, in whom _he lives, moves, and has his being_; and
indeed the whole invisible world, the entire system of things eternal.
And hereby, in particular, he feels _the love of God shed abroad in his
heart_.
*8. _By this faith we are saved_ from all uneasiness of mind, from the
anguish of a wounded spirit, from discontent, from fear, and sorrow of
heart, from that inexpressible listlessness and weariness, both of the
world and of ourselves, which we had so ♦helplessly laboured under for
many years; especially when we were out of the hurry of the world, and
sunk into calm reflection. In this we find that love of God, and of all
mankind, which we had elsewhere sought in vain. This we know and feel,
and therefore cannot but declare, saves every one that partakes of it,
both from sin and misery, from every unhappy and every unholy temper.
♦ “helplesly” replaced with “helplessly”
“Soft peace she brings, wherever she arrives,
She builds our quiet, as she forms our lives;
Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even,
And opens in each breast a little heaven.”
9. If you ask, “Why then have not all men this faith? All at least
who conceive it to be so happy a thing? Why do they not believe
immediately?”
We answer, (on the scripture hypothesis) _It is the gift of God_. No
man is able to work it in himself. It is a work of Omnipotence. It
requires no less power thus to quicken a dead soul, than to raise a
body that lies in the grave. It is a new creation; and none can create
a soul anew but he who at first created the heavens and the earth.
*10. May not your own experience teach you this? Can you give yourself
this faith? Is it now in your power to see, or hear, or taste, or feel
God? Have you already, or can you raise in yourself any perception of
God, or of an invisible world? I suppose you do not deny, that there
is an invisible world: you will not charge it in poor old _Hesiod_,
to Christian prejudice of education, when he says, in those well known
words,
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth
Unseen, whether we wake, or if we sleep.
Now, is there any power in your soul, whereby you discern either these,
or him that created them? Or, can all your wisdom and strength open an
intercourse between yourself and the world of spirits? Is it in your
power to burst the veil that is on your heart, and let in the light of
eternity? You know it is not. You not only do not, but cannot (by your
own strength) thus believe. The more you labour so to do, the more you
will be convinced, _it is the gift of God_.
*11. It is the _free gift_ of God, which he bestows not on those who
are _worthy_ of his favour, not on such as are _previously holy_, and
so _fit_ to be crowned with all the blessings of his goodness: but on
the ungodly and unholy; on those who till that hour were _fit_ only
for everlasting destruction; those in whom was no good thing, and whose
only plea was, _God, be merciful to me a sinner_. No merit, no goodness
in man precedes the forgiving love of God. His pardoning mercy supposes
nothing in us but a sense of mere sin and misery: and to all who see,
and feel, and own their wants, and their utter inability to remove them,
God freely gives faith, for the sake of him _in whom he is always well
pleased_.
12. This is a short, rude sketch of the doctrine we teach. These are
our fundamental principles: and we spend our lives in confirming others
herein, and in a behaviour suitable to them.
Now, if you are a reasonable man, although you do not believe the
Christian system to be of God, lay your hand upon your breast, and
calmly consider, what it is that you can here condemn? What evil have
we done to _you_, that _you_ should join the common cry against us? Why
should _you_ say, _Away with such fellows from the earth: it is not fit
that they should live_?
13. ’Tis true, your judgment does not fall in with ours. We believe the
scripture to be of God. This you do not believe. And how do you defend
yourselves against them who urge you with the guilt of unbelief? Do
you not say, “Every man _must_ judge according to the light he has, and
that if he be true to this, he ought not to be condemned?” Keep then
to this, and turn the tables. _Must_ not _we_ also judge according to
the light we have? You can in no wise condemn _us_, without involving
_yourselves_ in the same condemnation. According to the light _we_ have,
we cannot but believe the scripture is of God; and, while we believe
this, we dare not turn aside from it, to the right hand, or to the left.
*14. Let us consider this point a little farther. You yourself believe
there is a God. You have the witness of this in your own breast.
Perhaps sometimes you tremble before him. You believe there is such
a thing as right and wrong, that there is a difference between moral
good and evil. Of consequence, you must allow, there is such a thing
as conscience; I mean, that every person, capable of reflection, is
conscious to himself, when he looks back on any thing he has done,
whether it be good or evil. You must likewise allow, that every man is
to be guided by his own conscience, not another’s. Thus far, doubtless,
you may go, without any danger of being a _volunteer in_ faith.
15. Now then, be consistent with yourself. If there be a God, who
being just and good, (attributes inseparable from the very idea of God)
is _a rewarder of them that diligently seek him_, ought we not to do
whatever we believe will be acceptable to so good a Master? Observe: if
we _believe_, if we are fully persuaded of this in our mind, ought we
not thus to seek him? And that with all diligence? Else, how should we
expect any reward at his hands?
16. Again: Ought we not to do what we believe is morally good, and to
abstain from what we judge is evil? By good I mean, conducive to the
good of mankind, tending to advance peace, and good-will among men,
promotive of the happiness of our fellow-creatures; and by evil, what
is contrary thereto. Then surely you cannot condemn our endeavouring
after our power, to make mankind happy; (I now speak only with regard
to the present world) our striving, as we can, to lessen their sorrows,
and to teach them in whatsoever state they are, therewith to be content.
17. Yet again. Are we to be guided by _our own_ conscience, or by that
of other men? _You_ surely will not say, that any man’s conscience can
preclude _mine_. _You_, at least, will not plead for robbing us, of
what you strongly claim for yourselves. I mean, the right of private
judgment, which is indeed unalienable from reasonable creatures.
_You_ well know, that unless we faithfully follow the dictates of _our
own_ mind, we cannot have a conscience void of offence toward God and
towards man.
*18. Upon your own principles therefore you must allow us to be, at
least, innocent. Do you find any difficulty in this? You speak much
of pre-possession and prejudice; beware you are not entangled therein
yourselves. Are you not prejudiced against _us_, because we believe
and strenuously defend that system of doctrines which you oppose? Are
you not enemies to _us_, because you take it for granted we are so to
_you_? Nay, God forbid! I once saw one, who, from a plentiful fortune,
was reduced to the lowest extremity. He was lying on a sick bed, in
violent pain, without even convenient food, or one friend to comfort
him: so that when his merciful landlord, to compleat all, sent one to
take his bed from under him, I was not surprized at his attempt to put
an end to so miserable a life. Now, when I saw that poor man, weltering
in his blood, could I be angry at him? Surely no. No more can I at
_you_. I can no more hate than I can envy you. I can only lift up my
heart to God for _you_ (as I did then for him) and, with silent tears,
beseech the Father of mercies, that he would look on you in your blood,
and say unto you, _Live_.
*19. “Sir, (said that unhappy man, at my first interview with him) I
scorn to deceive you or any man. You must not tell me of your bible;
for I don’t believe one word of it. I know there is a God, and believe
he is all in all, the _Anima mundi_, the
“vastam
Mens agitans molem, & magno se corpore miscens.”
“But farther then this, I believe not; all is dark, my thought is lost.
But I hear (added he) you preach to a great number of people every
night and morning. Pray, what would you do with them? Whither would you
lead them? What religion do you preach? What is it good for?” I replied,
“I do preach to as many as desire to hear, every night and morning.”
You ask, “What I would do with them?” I would make them virtuous and
happy, easy in themselves, and useful to others. “Whither would I lead
them?” To heaven; to God the Judge, the lover of all, and to Jesus the
Mediator of the new covenant. “What religion do I preach?” The religion
of love; the law of kindness brought to light by the gospel. “What is
this good for?” To make all who receive it enjoy God and themselves: To
make them like God; lovers of all; contented in their lives; and crying
out at their death, in calm assurance, _O grave where is thy victory!
thanks be unto God, who giveth me the victory, thro’ my Lord Jesus
Christ_.
20. Will you object to such a religion as this; that it is not
reasonable? Is it not reasonable then to love God? Hath he not given
you life, and breath, and all things? Does he not continue his love
to you, filling your heart with food and gladness? What have you not
received of him? And does not love demand a return of love? Whether
therefore you do love God or no, you cannot but own it is reasonable so
to do; nay, seeing he is the parent of all good, to love him with all
your heart.
21. Is it not reasonable also to love our neighbour? Every man whom
God hath made? Are we not brethren? The children of one father? Ought
we not then to love one another? And should we only love them that
love us? Is that acting like our Father which is in heaven? He causeth
his sun to shine on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the
just and on the unjust. And can there be a more equitable rule (the
only adequate measure of brotherly love, in all our words and actions)
_Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, even so do unto them_.
22. Is it not reasonable then, that as we have opportunity, we should
do good unto all men? Not only friends but enemies, not only to the
deserving, but likewise to the evil and unthankful. Is it not right
that all our life should be one continued labour of love? If a day
passes without doing good, may one not well say, with _Titus_, _Amici,
diem perdidi!_¹ And is it enough, to feed the hungry, to cloath the
naked, to visit those who are sick or in prison? Should we have no pity
for those
Who sigh beneath guilt’s horrid stain,
The worst confinement, and the heaviest chain?
Should we shut up our compassion toward those who are of all men most
miserable, because they are miserable by their own fault? If we have
found a medicine to heal even that sickness, should we not, as we
have freely received it, freely give? Should we not pluck them as
brands out of the fire? The fire of lust, anger, malice, revenge? Your
inmost soul answers, It should be done; it is reasonable in the highest
degree. Well, this is the sum of our preaching, and of our lives, our
enemies themselves being the judges. If therefore you allow, that it
is reasonable to love God, to love mankind, and to do good to all men,
you cannot but allow, that religion which we preach and live, to be
agreeable to the highest reason.
¹ My friends, I have lost a day!
23. Perhaps “all this you can bear. It is tolerable enough: and if we
spoke only of being _saved by love_, you should have no great objection:
but you do not comprehend what we say of being _saved by_ faith.” I
know you do not. You do not in any degree comprehend what we mean by
that expression; have patience then, and I will tell you yet again. By
those words, _we are saved by_ faith, we mean, that the moment a man
receives that faith which is above described, he is saved from doubt
and fear, and sorrow of heart, by a peace that passes all understanding;
from the heaviness of a wounded spirit, by joy unspeakable; and from
his sins, of whatsoever kind they were; from his vicious desires, as
well as words and actions, by the love of God, and of all mankind, then
shed abroad in his heart.
24. We grant, nothing is more unreasonable, than to imagine that
such mighty effects as these, can be wrought by that poor, empty,
insignificant thing, which the world _calls_ faith, and you among
them. But supposing there be such a faith on the earth, as that which
the apostle speaks of, such an intercourse between God and the soul,
what is too hard for such a faith? You yourselves may conceive, that
_all things are possible to him that thus believeth_: to him that thus
_walks with God_, that is now a citizen of heaven, an inhabitant of
eternity. If therefore you will contend with _us_, you must change the
ground of your attack. You must flatly deny there is any faith upon
earth: but perhaps this you might think too large step. You cannot
do this, without a secret condemnation in your own breast. O that you
would at length cry to God for that heavenly gift! Whereby alone this
truly reasonable religion, this beneficent love of God and man, can be
planted in your heart.
25. If you say, “But those that profess this faith are the most
unreasonable of all men;” I ask, “Who are those that profess this
faith?” Perhaps you do not personally know such a man in the world. Who
are they that so much as profess to have _this evidence_ of things not
seen? That profess to _see him that is invisible_? To _hear the voice_
of God, and to have _his Spirit_ ever _witnessing with their spirits,
that they are the children of_ God? I fear you will find few that even
profess _this faith_, among the large numbers of those who are called
believers.
*26. “However, there are enough that profess themselves Christians.”
Yea, too many, God knoweth: too many that confute their vain
professions, by the whole tenour of their lives. I will allow all you
can say on this head, and perhaps more than all. ’Tis now some years
since I was engaged unawares in a conversation with a strong reasoner,
who at first urged the wickedness of the _American Indians_, as a bar
to our hope of converting them to Christianity. But when I mentioned
their temperance, justice, and veracity, (according to the accounts I
had then received) it was asked, “Why, if those Heathens are such men
as these, what will they gain by being made Christians? What would they
gain by being _such Christians_ as we see every where round about us?”
I could not deny, they would lose, not gain, by such a Christianity
as this. Upon which she added, “Why, what else do you mean by
Christianity?” My plain answer was, What do you apprehend to be more
valuable than good sense, good nature, and good manners? All these
are contained, and that in the highest degree, in what I mean by
Christianity. Good sense, (so called) is but a poor, dim shadow of
what Christians call faith. Good nature is only a faint, distant
resemblance of Christian charity. And good manners, if of the most
finished kind that nature assisted by art can attain to, is but a dead
picture of that holiness of conversation, which is the image of God
visibly expressed. All these put together by the art of God, I call
Christianity. “Sir, if this be Christianity, (said my opponent in amaze)
I never saw a christian in my life.”
27. Perhaps it is the same case with _you_. If so, I am grieved
for you, and can only wish, ’till you do see a living proof of
this, that you would not say, _you see a christian_. For this is
scriptural christianity, and this alone. Whenever therefore you see an
unreasonable man, you see one who perhaps calls himself by that name,
but _is_ no more a _christian_ than he is an _angel_. So far as he
departs from true, genuine reason, so far he departs from christianity.
Do not say, this is only asserted, not proved. It is undeniably
proved by the original charter of christianity. We appeal to this,
to the written word. If any man’s temper, or words, or actions are
contradictory to right reason; it is evident to a demonstration, they
are contradictory to this. Produce any possible or conceivable instance,
and you will find the fact is so. The lives therefore of those who are
_called_ christians, is no just objection to christianity.
28. We join with you then in desiring a religion founded on reason, and
every way agreeable thereto. But one question still remains to be asked,
what do you mean by _reason_? I suppose you mean the eternal reason, or,
the nature of things: The nature of God, and the nature of man, with
the relations necessarily subsisting between them. Why, this is the
very religion _we_ preach: a religion evidently founded on, and every
way agreeable to eternal reason, to the essential nature of things. Its
foundation stands on the nature of God and the nature of man, together
with their mutual relations. And it is every way suitable thereto: to
the nature of God; for it begins in knowing him; and where but in the
true knowledge of God, can you conceive true religion to begin? It goes
on in loving him, and all mankind, (for you cannot but imitate whom you
love:) It ends in serving him; in doing his will; in obeying him whom
we know and love.
29. It is every way suited to the nature of man; for it begins in
a man’s knowing himself; knowing himself to be what he really is,
foolish, vicious, miserable. It goes on to point out the remedy for
this, to make him truly wise, virtuous, and happy; as every thinking
mind (perhaps from some implicit remembrance of what it originally was)
longs to be.
It finishes all, by restoring the due relations between God and man; by
uniting for ever the tender Father, and the grateful, obedient Son; the
great Lord of all, and the faithful servant, doing not his own will,
but the will of him that sent him.
30. But perhaps by reason you mean, the faculty of reasoning, of
inferring one thing from another.
There are many, it is confessed, (particularly those who are stiled
mystic divines) that utterly decry the use of reason, thus understood,
in religion: nay, that condemn all reasoning concerning the things of
God, as utterly destructive of true religion.
But we can in no wise agree with this. We find no authority for it in
holy writ. So far from it, that we find there both our Lord and his
apostles continually reasoning with their opposers. Neither do we know,
in all the productions of antient and modern times, such a chain of
reasoning or argumentation, so close, so solid, so regularly connected,
as the epistle to the _Hebrews_. And the strongest reasoner whom we
have ever observed, (excepting only _Jesus_ of _Nazareth_) was that
_Paul_ of _Tarsus_; the same who has left that plain direction for
all christians, _In malice_, or wickedness, _be ye children; but in
understanding_, or reason, _be ye men_.
31. We therefore not only allow, but earnestly exhort all who seek
after true religion, to use all the reason which God hath given them,
in searching out the things of God. But your _reasoning justly_,
not only on this, but on any subject whatsoever, presupposes _true
judgments_ already formed, whereon to ground your argumentation.
Else, you know, you will stumble at every step: because _ex falso non
sequitur verum_. It is impossible, if your premisses are false, to
infer from them true conclusions.
32. You know likewise, that before it is possible for you to form a
_true judgment_ of them, it is absolutely necessary, that you have a
_clear apprehension_ of the things of God, and that your ideas thereof
be all _fixed_, _distinct_, and _determinate_. And seeing our _ideas_
are not innate, but must all originally come from our _senses_; it
is certainly necessary that you have _senses_ capable of discerning
objects of this kind. Not those only which are called _natural senses_,
which in this respect profit nothing, as being altogether incapable
of discerning objects of a spiritual kind; but _spiritual senses_,
exercised to discern spiritual good and evil. It is necessary that you
have _the hearing ear_, and the _seeing eye_, emphatically so called;
that you have a new class of senses opened in your soul, not depending
on organs of flesh and blood, to be _the evidence_ of things not seen,
as your bodily senses are of visible things; to be the avenues to the
invisible world, to discern spiritual objects, and to furnish you with
ideas of what the outward _eye hath not seen, neither the ear heard_.
33. And till you have these _internal senses_, till the eyes of your
understanding are opened, you can have no _apprehension_ of divine
things, no _idea_ of them at all. Nor consequently, till then, can you
either _judge truly_, or _reason justly_ concerning them: seeing your
reason has no ground whereon to stand, no materials to work upon.
34. To use the trite instance. As you cannot _reason_ concerning
colours, if you have no _natural sight_, because all the _ideas_
received by your other senses are of a different kind; so that neither
your _hearing_, nor any _other sense_, can supply your want of _sight_,
or furnish your reason in this respect with matter to work upon: So you
cannot _reason_ concerning spiritual things, if you have no _spiritual
sight_; because all your ideas received by your _outward senses_ are of
a different kind. Yea, far more different from those received by faith
or _internal sensation_, than the idea of colour from that of sound.
These are only different species of one genus, namely, sensible ideas,
received by external sensation: whereas the ideas of faith differ
_toto genere_ from those of _external sensation_. So that it is not
conceivable, that _external sensation_ should supply the want of
_internal senses_; or furnish your _reason_ in this respect with matter
to work upon.
35. What then will your reason do here? How will it pass from things
natural to spiritual? From the things that are seen to those that are
not seen? From the visible to the invisible world? What a gulph is
here? By what art will reason get over the immense chasm? This cannot
be, till the Almighty come in to your succour, and give you that faith
you have hitherto despised. Then upborn as it were on eagle’s wings,
you shall soar away into the regions of eternity; and your enlightened
reason shall explore even _the deep things of God_, God himself
_revealing them to you by his Spirit_.
36. I expected to have received much light on this head, from a
treatise lately published, and earnestly recommended to me, I mean,
_Christianity not founded on argument_. But on a careful perusal of
that piece, notwithstanding my prejudice in its favour, I could not
but perceive, that the great design uniformly pursued throughout the
work, was to render the whole of the christian institution both odious
and contemptible. In order to this, the author gleans up, with great
care and diligence, the most plausible of those many objections that
have been raised against it by late writers, and proposes them with
the utmost strength of which he was capable. To do this with the more
effect, he _personates_ a christian: he _makes a shew_ of defending
an avowed doctrine of christianity, namely, the supernatural influence
of the Spirit of God; and often, for several sentences together,
(indeed in the beginning of almost every paragraph) speaks so _like
a christian_, that not a few have received him according to his wish.
Mean while with all possible _art_ and _show of reason_, and in the
most laboured language, he pursues his point throughout, which is to
prove, “that christianity is contrary to reason;” or, “that no man
acting according to the principles of reason, can possibly be a
christian.”
37. It is a wonderful proof of the power that smooth words may have
even on serious minds, that so many have mistook such a writer as this
for a friend of christianity: since almost every page of his tract is
filled with gross falshood and broad blasphemy: and these supported by
such _exploded_ fallacies, and _common-place_ sophistry, that a person
of two or three years standing in the university, might give them
a sufficient answer, and make the author appear as _irrational_ and
contemptible as he labours to make Christ and his apostles.
38. I have hitherto spoken to those chiefly, who do not receive the
christian system as of God. I would add a few words to another sort of
men; (though not so much with regard to _our_ principles or practice,
as with regard to _their own_:) to you who _do_ receive it, who believe
the scripture, but yet do not take upon you the character of _religious
men_. I am therefore obliged to address myself to you likewise under
the character of _men of reason_.
39. I would only ask, Are you such indeed? Do you answer the character
under which you appear? If so, you are consistent with yourselves. Your
principles and practice agree together.
Let us try whether this is so or not. Do you not take the name of God
in vain? Do you remember the sabbath-day, to keep it holy? Do you not
speak evil of the ruler of your people? Are you not a drunkard, or a
glutton, faring as sumptuously as you can every day? Making a God of
your belly? Do you not avenge yourself? Are you not a whoremonger or
adulterer? Answer plainly to your own heart, before God the judge of
all.
Why then do you say, you believe the scripture? If the scripture
is true, you are lost. You are in the broad way that leadeth to
destruction. Your damnation slumbereth not. You are heaping up
to yourself wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of the
righteous judgment of God. Doubtless, if the scripture is true, (and
you remain thus) it had been good for you if you had never been born.
40. How is it that you call yourselves men of reason? Is reason
inconsistent with itself? You are the farthest of all men under
the sun from any pretence to that character. A common swearer, a
sabbath-breaker, a whoremonger, a drunkard, who says he believes
the scripture is of God, is a monster upon earth, the greatest
contradiction to his own, as well as to the reason of all mankind. In
the name of God, (that worthy name whereby you are _called_, and which
you daily cause to be blasphemed) turn either to the right hand or to
the left. Either profess you are an infidel, or be a christian. Halt
no longer thus between two opinions. Either cast off the bible, or
your sins. And in the mean time, if you have any spark of your boasted
reason left, do not _count us your enemies_ (as I fear you have done
hitherto, and as thousands do wherever we have declared _they who do
such things shall not inherit eternal life_) _because we tell you the
truth_: seeing these are not our words, but the words of him that sent
us. Yea, though in doing this, we use _great plainness of speech_,
as becomes the ministry we have received. _For we are not as many who
corrupt_ (cauponize, soften, and thereby adulterate) _the word of God.
But as of sincerity, but as of God, in the sight of God, speak we in_
Christ.
*41. But, it may be, you are none of these. You abstain from all such
things. You have an unspotted reputation. You are a man of honour, or
a woman of virtue. You scorn to do an unhandsome thing, and are of an
unblameable life and conversation. You are harmless, (if I understand
you right) and useless from morning to night. You do no hurt,――and no
good to any one, no more than a straw floating upon the water. Your
life glides smoothly on from year to year; and from one season to
another, having no occasion to work,
“You waste away
In gentle inactivity the day.”
42. I will not now shock the easiness of your temper, by talking about
a future state. But suffer me to ask you a question about present
things. Are you now happy?
*I have seen a large company of _reasonable creatures_, called
_Indians_, sitting in a row on the side of a river, looking sometimes
at one another, sometimes at the sky, and sometimes at the bubbles on
the water. And so they sat, (unless in the time of war) for a great
part of the year, from morning to night.
These were doubtless much at ease. But can you think they were
happy?――And how little happier are you than they?
*43. You eat, and drink, and sleep, and dress, and dance, and sit down
to play. You are carried abroad. You are at the masquerade, the theatre,
the opera-house, the park, the levee, the drawing-room. What do you do
there? Why, sometimes you talk; sometimes you look at one another. And
what are you to do to-morrow? The next day? The next week? The next
year? You are to eat, and drink, and sleep, and dance, and dress, and
play again. And you are to be carried abroad again, that you may again
look at one another! And is this all? Alas, how little more happiness
have you in this, than the _Indians_ in looking at the sky or water!
*Ah poor, dull round! I do not wonder that Colonel _M――――_ (or any man
of reflection) should prefer death itself, even in the midst of his
years, to such a life as this! And should frankly declare, “that he
chose to go out of the world, because he found nothing in it worth
living for.”
44. Yet it is certain there is business to be done: and many we find
in all places (not to speak of the vulgar, the drudges of the earth)
who are continually employed therein. Are you of that number? Are
you engaged in trade, or some other reputable employment? I suppose,
profitable too; for you would not spend your time, and labour, and
thought, for nothing. You are then making your fortune; you are getting
money. True: but money is not your ultimate end. The treasuring up gold
and silver, for its own sake, all men own, is as foolish and absurd,
as grosly unreasonable, as the treasuring up spiders, or the wings of
butterflies. You consider this but as a means to some farther end. And
what is that? Why, the enjoying yourself, the being at ease, the taking
your pleasure, the living like a gentleman. That is plainly, either the
whole, or some part of, the happiness above described.
*Supposing then your end to be actually attained, suppose you have
your wish, before you drop into eternity: go and sit down with
_Thleeanowhee_ and his companions, on the river side.――After you have
toiled for fifty years, you are just as happy as they.
45. Are you, can you, or any reasonable man, be _satisfied_ with this?
You are not. It is not possible you should. But what else can you do?
You _would_ have something better to employ your time; but you know not
where to find it upon earth.
*And indeed it is obvious, that the earth, as it is now constituted,
even with the help of all _European_ arts, does not find sufficient
employment, to take up half the waking hours of half its inhabitants.
*What then can you do? How can you employ the time that lies so heavy
upon your hands? This very thing which you seek, declare we unto you.
The thing _you_ want, is the religion _we_ preach. That alone leaves
no time upon our hands. It fills up all the blank spaces of life. It
exactly takes up all the time we have to spare, be it more or less: so
that _he that hath much, hath nothing over, and he that has little, has
no lack_.
46. Once more. Can you (or any man of reason) think, you was made for
the life you now lead? You cannot possibly think so, at least, not till
you tread the bible under foot. The oracles of God bear thee witness in
every page, (and thine own heart agreeth thereto) that thou wast made
in the image of God, an incorruptible picture of the God of glory. And
what art thou even in thy present state? An everlasting spirit, going
to God. For what end then did he create thee, but to dwell with him,
above this perishable world, to know him, to love him, to do his will,
to enjoy him for ever and ever! O look more deeply into thyself! And
into that scripture, which thou professest to receive as the _word of
God_, as _right concerning all things_. There thou wilt find a nobler,
happier state described, than it ever yet entered into thy heart
to conceive. But God hath now revealed it to all those who _rejoice
evermore_, and _pray without ceasing_, and _in every thing give thanks_,
and _do his will on earth as it is done in heaven_. For this thou
wast made. Hereunto also thou art called. O be not disobedient to the
heavenly calling! At least, be not angry with those who would fain
bring thee to be a living witness of that religion, _whose ways are
indeed ways of pleasantness, and all her paths peace_.
47. Do you say in your heart, “I know all this already. I am not barely
a man of reason. I am a religious man; for I not only avoid evil and
do good, but use all the means of grace. I am constantly at church,
and at the sacrament too. I say my prayers every day. I read many good
books. I fast――――every _thirtieth of January, and Good-friday_.” Do you
indeed? Do you do all this! This you may do; you may go thus far, and
yet have _no religion_ at all; _no such religion_ as avails before God:
nay, much farther than this, than you have ever gone yet, or so much as
thought of going. For you may _give all your goods to feed the poor_,
yea, _your body to be burned_, and yet very possibly, if St. _Paul_ be
a judge, _have no charity_, no true religion.
48. This religion, which alone is of value before God, is the very
thing you want. You want (and in wanting this, you want all) the
religion of love. You do not love your neighbour as yourself, no more
than you love God with all your heart. Ask your own heart now, if it be
not so? ’Tis plain you do not love God. If you did, you would be happy
in him. But you know, you are not happy. Your _formal_ religion no more
makes you happy, than your neighbour’s _gay_ religion does him. O how
much have you suffered for want of plain-dealing! Can you now bear to
hear the naked truth? You have _the form of godliness_, but not _the
power_. You are a mere whited wall. Before the Lord your God I ask you,
are you not? Too sure. For your _inward parts are very wickedness_. You
love _the creature more than the Creator_. You are _a lover of pleasure
more than a lover of God_. A lover of God! You do not love God at all,
no more than you love a stone. You love the world; therefore the love
of the Father is not in you.
49. You are on the brink of the pit, ready to be plunged into
everlasting perdition. Indeed you have a zeal for God: but not
according to knowledge. O how terribly have you been deceived! Posting
to hell, and fancying it was heaven. See, at length, that _outward
religion_ without _inward_, is nothing; is far worse than nothing,
being indeed no other than a solemn mockery of God. And _inward
religion you have not_. You have not the faith _that worketh by love_.
Your _faith_ (so called) is no living, saving principle. It is not the
apostle’s faith, _the substance_ (or subsistence) _of things hoped for,
the evidence of things not seen_. So far from it, that _this_ faith is
the very thing which you call _enthusiasm_. You are not content with
being without it, unless you blaspheme it too. You even revile that
_life which is hid with_ Christ _in_ God; all seeing, tasting, hearing,
feeling God. These things are _foolishness unto_ you. No marvel; _for
they are spiritually discerned_.
50. Oh! no longer shut your eyes against the light. Know you have a
name that you live, but are dead. Your soul is utterly dead in sin;
dead in pride, in vanity, in self-will, in sensuality, in love of the
world. You are utterly dead to God. There is no intercourse between
your soul and God. _You have neither seen him_ (by faith, as our Lord
witnessed against them of old time) _nor heard his voice at any time_.
You have no spiritual _senses exercised to discern spiritual good and
evil_. You are angry at infidels, and are all the while as mere an
infidel before God as they. You have _eyes that see not, and ears that
hear not_. You have a _callous, unfeeling_ heart.
51. Bear with me a little longer: my soul is distrest for you. _The God
of this world hath blinded your eyes_, and you are _seeking death in
the error of your life_. Because you do not commit gross sin, because
you give alms, and go to the church and sacrament, you imagine that you
are serving God; yet in very deed you are serving the devil. For you
are doing still your own will, not the will of God your Saviour. You
are pleasing yourself in all you do. Pride, vanity, and self-will, (the
genuine fruits of an earthly, sensual, devilish heart) pollute all your
words and actions. You are in darkness, in the shadow of death. Oh!
That God would say to you in thunder, _Awake thou that sleepest, and
arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light_.
52. But blessed be God! He hath not yet left himself without witness!
“All are not lost! There be, who faith prefer,
Tho’ few, and piety to God!”
Who know the power of faith, and are no strangers to that inward, vital
religion, _the mind that was in_ Christ, _righteousness, and peace,
and joy in the Holy Ghost_. Of you who _have tasted the good word of
God, and the powers of the world to come_, I would be glad to learn if
we have _erred from the faith_, or walked contrary to _the truth as it
is in_ Jesus. _Let the righteous smite me friendly, and reprove me_;
if haply that which is amiss may be done away, and what is wanting
supplied, till we all come to the measure of the stature of the fulness
of Christ.
53. Perhaps the first thing that now occurs to your mind, relates to
the doctrine which we teach. You have heard, that we say, “Men may live
without sin.” And have you not heard that the scripture says the same?
(We mean without committing sin.) Does not St. _Paul_ say plainly, that
those who believe, _do not continue in sin_?――――That they cannot _live
any longer therein_? Romans vi. 1, 2. Does not St. _Peter_ say, _He
that hath suffered in the flesh, hath ceased from sin?――――that he no
longer should live――――to the desires of men, but to the will of God_,
1 Peter iv. 1, 2. And does not St. _John_ say expressly, _He that
committeth sin is of the devil.――For this purpose the Son of God was
manifested, that he might destroy the works of the devil. Whosoever is
born of God, doth not commit sin: for his seed remaineth in him, and he
cannot commit sin, because he is born of God_, 1 John iii. 8. &c. And
again, _We know that whatsoever is born of God sinneth not_, chapter
v. 18.
54. You see then, it is not we that say this, but the Lord. These are
not our words, but his, And who is he that replieth against God? Who
is able to make God a liar? Surely he will be justified in his saying,
and clear when he is judged! Can you deny it? Have you not often felt
a secret check, when you was contradicting this great truth? And how
often have you wished for what you was taught to deny? Nay, can you
help wishing for it at this moment? Do you not now earnestly desire,
to cease from sin? To commit it no more? Does not your soul pant
after this glorious liberty of the sons of God? And what strong reason
have you to expect it? Have you not had a foretaste of it already? Do
you not remember the time when God first lifted up the light of his
countenance upon you? Can it ever be forgotten? The day when the candle
of the Lord first shone upon your head?
“Butter and honey did you eat,
And lifted up on high,
You saw the clouds beneath your feet,
And rode upon the sky.
“Far, far above all earthly things
Triumphantly you rode;
You soar’d to heav’n on eagle’s wings,
And found, and talk’d with God.”
You then had power not to commit sin. You found the apostle’s words
strictly true, _he that is begotten of God keepeth himself, and that
wicked one toucheth him not_. But those whom you took to be experienced
Christians, telling you, “This was only the time of your espousals;
this could not last always: you must come down from the mount,” and the
like, shook your faith. You looked at men more than God, and so became
weak, and like another man. Whereas, had you then had any to guide you
according to the truth of God, had you then heard the doctrine which
now you blame, you had never fallen from your stedfastness: but had
found, that in this sense also, _the gifts and calling of God are
without repentance_.
55. Have you not another objection nearly allied to this, namely, that
we preach perfection? True; but what perfection? The term you cannot
object to; because it is scriptural. All the difficulty is, to fix
the meaning of it, according to the word of God. And this we have done
again and again, declaring to all the world, that Christian perfection
does not imply an exemption, from ignorance, or mistake, or infirmities,
or temptations: but that it does imply, the being so crucified with
Christ, as to be able to testify, _I live not, but Christ liveth in me_,
(Galatians ii. 23.) and _hath purified my heart by faith_, (Acts xv. 9.)
It does imply, _the casting down every high thing that exalteth itself
against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought
to the obedience of Christ_. It does imply, _the being holy, as he that
hath called us is holy, in all manner of conversation_, (2 Corinthians
x. 5. 1 Peter i. 15.) And, in a word, _the loving the Lord our God with
all our heart, and serving him with all our strength_.
56. Now, is it possible for any who believe the scripture, to deny one
tittle of this? You cannot. You dare not. You would not for the world.
You know it is the pure word of God. And this is the whole of what we
preach; this is the height and depth of what we (with St. _Paul_) call
perfection: a state of soul devoutly to be wished, by all who have
tasted of the love of God. O pray for it without ceasing. It is the
one thing you want. Come with boldness to the throne of grace, and be
assured that when you ask this of God, you shall have the petition you
ask of him. We know indeed that to man, to the natural man, this is
impossible. But we know also, that as _no word is impossible with God_,
so _all things are possible to him that believeth_.
57. For _we are saved by faith_. But have you not heard this urged as
another objection against us, that we preach salvation by faith alone!
And does not St. _Paul_ do the same thing? _By grace_, saith he, _ye
are saved through faith_. Can any words be more express? And elsewhere,
_Believe in the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt be saved_, Acts xvi. 31.
What we mean by this (if it has not been sufficiently explained already)
is, that we are saved from our sins, only by a confidence in the love
of God. As soon as we _behold what manner of love it is which the
Father hath bestowed upon us, we love him_, (as the apostle observes)
_because he first loved us_. And then is that commandment written in
our heart, _that he who loveth God love his brother also_: from which
love of God and man, meekness, humbleness of mind, and all holy tempers,
spring. Now these are the very essence of salvation, of Christian
salvation, salvation from sin. And from these, outward salvation flows,
that is, holiness of life and conversation. Well, and are not these
things so? If you know in whom you have believed, you need no further
witnesses.
58. But perhaps you doubt, whether that faith whereby we are thus saved,
implies such a trust and confidence in God as we describe. “You cannot
think faith implies assurance: an assurance of the love of God to
our souls, of his being now reconciled to us, and having forgiven all
our sins.” And this we freely confess, that if number of voices is to
decide the question, we must give it up at once; for you have on your
side, not only some who desire to be Christians indeed, but all nominal
Christians in every place, and the _Romish_ church, one and all. Nay,
these last are so vehement in your defence, that in the famed council
of _Trent_, they have decreed, “If any man hold (_fiduicam_) trust,
confidence, ♦or assurance of pardon to be essential to faith, let him
be accursed.”
♦ word missed in typeset “or”
59. Thus does that council anathematize the church of _England_. For
she is convicted hereof, by her own confession. The very words in the
Homily on Salvation are, “Even the devils believe, that Christ was born
of a virgin; that he wrought all kind of miracles, declaring himself
very God; that for our sakes he suffered a most painful death, to
redeem us from death everlasting. These articles of our faith the
devils believe; and so they believe all that is written in the Old and
New Testament. And yet for all this faith, they be but devils. They
remain still in their damnable estate, lacking the very true, Christian
faith.”
“The right and true Christian faith is, not only to believe the holy
scriptures, and the articles of our faith, are true; but also to have
a sure trust and confidence, to be saved from everlasting damnation
through Christ.” Or, (as it is exprest a little after.) “A sure _trust
and confidence which a man hath in God, that by the merits of Christ
his sins are forgiven, and he reconciled to the favour of God_.”
60. Indeed the bishop of _Rome_ saith, “If any man hold this, let him
be an Anathema Maranatha.” But ’tis to be hoped, _Papal_ Anathemas do
not move _you_. You are a member of the church of _England_. Are you?
Then the controversy is at an end. Then hear the church. Faith is a
sure trust which a man hath in God, that his sins are forgiven. Or
if you are not, whether you hear our church or no, at least hear the
scriptures. Hear believing _Job_, declaring his faith, _I know that
my Redeemer liveth_. Hear _Thomas_, (when having seen, _he believed_)
crying out, _My Lord and my God_! Hear St. _Paul_ clearly describing
the nature of _his faith_, _The life I now live, I live by faith in the
Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me_. Hear (to mention
no more) all the believers who were with _Paul_, when he wrote to the
_Colossians_, bearing witness, _We give thanks unto the Father, who_
hath delivered _us from the power of darkness, and_ hath translated _us
into the kingdom of his dear Son: in whom_ we have _redemption thro’
his blood_, even the forgiveness of sins, Colossians i. verses 12,
13, 14.
61. But what need have we of distant witnesses? You have a witness in
our own breast. For am I not speaking to one that loves God? How came
you then to love him at first? Was it not, because you knew that he
loved you? Did you, could you love God at all, ’till you tasted and
saw that he was gracious? That he was merciful to you a sinner? What
avails then controversy, or strife of words? Out of thy own mouth!
You own, you had no love to God, ’till you was sensible of his love to
you. And whatever expressions any sinner who loves God uses, to denote
God’s love to him, you will always upon examination, find, that, they
directly or indirectly imply forgiveness. Pardoning love is still at
the root of all. He who was offended is now reconciled. The new song
which God puts in every mouth, is always to that effect, O Lord, _I
will praise thee: tho’ thou wast angry with me, thine anger is turned
away. Behold, God is my salvation. I will trust and not be afraid;
for the Lord Jehovah is my strength and my song: he is also become my
salvation_, Isaiah xii. 1, 2.
62. A confidence then in a pardoning God, is essential to saving faith.
The forgiveness of sins is one of the first of those unseen things,
whereof faith is the evidence. And if you are sensible of this, will
you quarrel with us concerning an indifferent circumstance of it? Will
you think it an important objection that we assert, that this faith is
usually given in a moment? First, let me intreat you to read over that
authentic account of God’s dealings with men, the Acts of the apostles.
In this treatise you will find, how he wrought from the beginning on
those who received remission of sins by faith. And can you find one of
these, (except perhaps St. _Paul_) who did not receive it in a moment?
But abundance you find of those who did, besides _Cornelius_ and the
three thousand, and to this also agrees the experience or those who now
receive the heavenly gift. Three or four exceptions only have I found
in the course of several years, (perhaps you yourself may be added
to that number, and one or two more whom you have known.) But all the
rest of those, who from time to time among us have believed in the Lord
Jesus, were in a moment brought from darkness to light, and from the
power of Satan unto God.
63. And why should it seem a thing incredible to you, who have known
the power of God unto salvation; (whether he hath wrought thus in your
soul or no; _for there are diversities of operations, but the same
Spirit_) that _the dead should hear the voice of the Son of God_, and
in that moment live? Thus he useth to act, to shew that when he willeth,
to do is present with him. _Let there be light_, said God, _and there
was light. He spoke the word, and it was done. Thus the heavens and
the earth were created, and all the hosts of them._ And this manner of
acting in the present case, highly suits both his power and love. There
is therefore no hindrance on God’s part; since _as his majesty is, so
is his mercy_. And whatever hindrance there is on the part of man, when
God speaketh, it is not. Only _ask_ then, O sinner, _and it shall be
given thee_, even the faith that brings salvation: and that, without
any merit or good work of thine; for _it is not of works, lest any man
should boast_. No; it is of grace, of grace alone. For _unto him that
worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his
faith is counted to him for righteousness_.
64. “But by talking thus you encourage sinners.” I do encourage
them――to repent: and do not you? Do not you know how many heap sin upon
sin, purely for want of such encouragement? Because they think, “they
can never be forgiven: there is no place for repentance left?” Does
not your heart also bleed for them? What would you think too dear to
part with? What would you not do? What would you not suffer, to bring
one such sinner to repentance? Could not your love _endure all things_
for them? “Yes――if you believed it would do them good; if you had any
hope that they would be better.” Why do you not believe it would do
them good? Why have you not a hope that they will be better? Plainly,
because you do not love them enough; because you have not that charity,
which not only endureth, but at the same time believeth and hopeth all
things.
65. But that you may see the whole strength of this objection, I will
shew you without any disguise or reserve, how I encourage the chief of
sinners: my usual language to them runs thus:
O ye that deny the Lord that bought you, yet hear the word of the
Lord. You seek rest, but find none. Even in laughter your heart is in
heaviness. How long spend ye your labour for that which is not bread,
and your strength for that which satisfieth not? You know, your soul is
not satisfied. It is still an aking void. Sometimes you find (in spite
of your principles) a sense ♦of guilt, an awakened conscience. That
grisly phantom, religion, (so you describe her) will now and then haunt
you still. Righteousness looking down from heaven, is indeed to us no
unpleasing sight. But how does it appear to you?
_Horribili super aspectu mortalibus astans?_
How often are you in fear of the very things you deny? How often in
racking suspense? “What if there be an hereafter? A judgment to come?
An unhappy eternity?” Do you not start at the thoughts? Can you be
content to be always thus? Shall it be said of you also,
“Here lies a dicer, long in doubt
If death could kill the soul, or not?
Here ends his doubtfulness; at last
Convinc’d.――――But, O the die is cast!”
Or, are you already convinced, there is no hereafter? What a poor state
then are you in now? Taking a few more dull turns upon earth, and then
dropping into nothing! What kind of spirit must you be of, if you can
sustain yourself under the thought! Under the expectation of being in
a few moments swept away by the stream of time, and then for ever
“swallow’d up, and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated night!”
But neither indeed are you certain of this; nor of any thing else. “It
may be so; it may not. A vast scene is behind. But clouds and darkness
rest upon it.” All is doubt and uncertainty. You are continually tossed
to and fro, and have no firm ground for the sole of your foot. O let
not the poor wisdom of man any longer exalt itself against the wisdom
of God. You have fled from him long enough: at length suffer your eyes
to be opened by him that made them. You want rest to your soul. Ask it
of him, who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not! You are
now a mere riddle to yourself, and your condition full of darkness and
perplexity. You are one among many restless inhabitants of a miserable,
disordered world, _walking in a vain shadow, and disquieting yourself
in vain_. But the light of God will speedily disperse the anxiety of
your vain conjectures. By adding heaven to earth, and eternity to time;
it will open such a glorious view of things, as will lead you, even in
the present world, to a peace which passeth all understanding.
♦ duplicate word “of” removed
66. O ye gross, vile, scandalous sinners, hear ye the word of the Lord.
_Turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; so iniquity shall not be your
ruin. As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of a
sinner, but rather that he should turn and live._ O make haste; delay
not the time. _Come, and let us reason together. Though your sins be
as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red as crimson,
they shall be as wool.――――Who is this that cometh from |Edom|, with
dyed garments, red in his apparel?_ It is he on whom the Lord _hath
laid the iniquities of us all_! Behold, behold the Lamb of God, that
taketh away thy sins! See the only begotten Son of the Father, _full
of grace and truth_! He loveth _thee_. He gave himself for _thee_. Now,
his bowels of compassion yearn over thee! O believe in the Lord Jesus,
and _thou_ shalt be saved! _Go in peace, sin no more!_
67. Now cannot _you_ join in all this? Is it not the very language of
your heart? O when will you take knowledge, that _our_ whole concern,
our constant labour is, to bring all the world to the religion which
you feel, to solid, inward, vital religion! What _power_ is it then
that keeps us asunder? _Is thine heart right, as my heart is with thy
heart? If it be, give me thy hand. Come with me and see_, and rejoice
in _my zeal for the Lord_. No difference between us (if thou art a
child of God) can be so considerable as our agreement is. If we differ
in smaller things, we agree in that which is greatest of all. How is
it possible then that _you_ should be induced, to think or speak evil
of us? How could it ever come into your mind, to oppose us, or weaken
our hands? How long shall we complain of the wounds which we receive
in the house of our friends? Surely the children of this world are
still _wiser in their generation than the children of light_. Satan is
not divided against himself: Why are they who are on the Lord’s side
against us? How is it that _wisdom is_ not _justified of her_ own
_children_?
68. Is it, because you have heard, “That we only make religion a cloak
for covetousness? And because you have heard abundance of particulars
alleged in support of that general charge?” ’Tis probable, you may also
have heard, “How much we have _gained_ by preaching already:” and, to
crown all, “That we are only papists in disguise, who are undermining
and destroying the church?”
69. “You have heard this.” Well: and can you believe it? Have you then
never heard the fifth chapter of St. _Matthew_? I would to God you
could believe it. What is written there? How readest thou? _Blessed are
ye when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and say all manner of
evil against you falsely for my name’s sake. Rejoice and be exceeding
glad; for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the
prophets that were before you_: namely, by _reviling_ them, and _saying
all manner of evil_ of them _falsely_. Do not you know, that this (as
well as all other scriptures) must needs be fulfilled? If so, take
knowledge, that this day also it is fulfilled in your ears. For our
Lord’s sake, and for the sake of his gospel which we preach, _men do
revile us and persecute us, and_ (blessed be God, who giveth us to
rejoice therein) _say all manner of evil of us falsely_. And how can it
be otherwise? _The disciple is not above his master. It is enough for
the disciple, that he be as his master, and the servant as his Lord. If
they have called the master of the house Beelzebub, how much more shall
they call them of his houshold?_
70. This only we confess, that “we preach _inward_ salvation, _now_
attainable by faith.” And _for preaching this_, (for _no other crime_
was _then_ so much as pretended) we were forbid to preach any more
in those churches, where, till then, we were gladly received. This
is a notorious fact. Being thus hindered from preaching in the places
we should first have chosen, we now declare the _grace of God which
bringeth salvation, in all places of his dominion_: as well knowing,
that God dwelleth not only in temples made with hands. This is the
real, and it is the only real ground of complaint against us. And
this we avow before all mankind, we do preach this salvation by faith.
And not being suffered to preach it in the usual places, we declare
it ♦wherever a door is opened, either _on a mountain_, or _a plain_,
or _by a river side_, (for all which we conceive we have sufficient
precedent) or in prison, or, as it were, _in the house of Justus_, or
_the school of one Tyrannus_. Nor dare we refrain. _A dispensation of
the gospel is committed to me; and woe is me, if I preach not the
gospel._
♦ “whereever” replaced with “wherever”
71. Here we allow the fact, but deny the guilt. But in every other
point alleged, we deny the fact, and call upon the world to prove it,
if they can. More especially we call upon those who for many years
saw our manner of life at _Oxford_. These well know, that _after the
straitest sect of our religion, we lived Pharisees_: and that the grand
objection to us for all those years, was the being _righteous overmuch_:
the reading, fasting, praying, denying ourselves; the going to church,
to the Lord’s table; the relieving the poor, visiting those that were
sick and in prison; instructing the ignorant, and labouring to reclaim
the wicked,――more than was necessary for salvation. These were our open,
flagrant crimes, from the year 1729 to the year 1737; touching which
our Lord shall judge in that day.
72. But waving the things that are past: which of you now convinceth
us of sin? Which of you (I here more especially appeal to my brethren,
the clergy) can personally convict us of any ungodliness or unholiness
of conversation? Ye know in your own hearts, (all that are candid men,
all that are not utterly blinded with prejudice) that we _labour to
have a conscience void of offence both toward God and toward man_.
Brethren, I would to God that in this ye were even as we. But indeed
(with grief I speak it) ye are not. There are among yourselves ungodly
and unholy men; openly, undeniably such: drunkards, gluttons, returners
of evil for evil, liars, swearers, prophaners of the day of the Lord.
Proof hereof is not wanting, if ye require it. Where then is your zeal
against these? A clergyman, so drunk he can scarce stand or speak, may,
in the presence of a thousand people¹, set upon another clergyman of
the same church, both with abusive words and open violence. And what
follows? Why, the one is still allowed to dispense the sacred signs of
the body and blood of Christ. But the other is not allowed to receive
them.――――Because he is a field preacher.
¹ At _Epworth_, in _Lincolnshire_.
73. O ye pillars and fathers of the church, are these things
well-pleasing to him, who hath made you overseers over that flock
which he hath purchased with his own blood? O that ye would suffer me
to boast myself a little! Is there not a cause? Have ye not compelled
me? Which of your clergy are more unspotted in their lives, which more
unwearied in their labours, than those whose _names ye cast out as
evil_, whom ye count _as the filth and off-scouring of the world_?
Which of them is more zealous _to spend and be spent_, for the lost
sheep of the house of _Israel_? Or, who among them is more ready to
_be offered up for their flock upon the sacrifice and service of their
faith_?
74. Will ye say, (as the historian of _Catiline_) _Si sic pro patria!_
If this were done in defence of the church, and not in order to
undermine and destroy it! That is the very proposition I undertake
to prove, That “we are now defending the church, even the church of
_England_, in opposition to all those who either secretly undermine,
or more openly attempt to destroy it.”
75. That we are _Papists_, (we, who are daily and hourly preaching
that very doctrine which is so solemnly anathematized by the whole
church of _Rome_) is such a charge, that I dare not waste my time in
industriously confuting it. Let any man of common sense only look on
the title pages of the sermons we have lately preached at _Oxford_,
and he will need nothing more to shew him the weight of this senseless,
shameless accusation;――unless he can suppose the governors both of
_Christ-Church_ and _Lincoln-College_, nay, and all the university, to
be _Papists_ too.
76. You yourself can easily acquit us of this; but not of the other
part of the charge. You still think we are secretly undermining, if not
openly destroying the church.
What do you mean by the church? A visible church (as our article
defines it) is, _A company of faithful (or believing) people: cætus
credentium_. This is the essence of a church: and the properties
thereof are, (as they are described in the words that follow) _Among
whom the pure word of God is preached, and the sacraments duly
administered_. Now then (according to this authentic account) what is
_The church of England_? What is it indeed, but the _faithful people_,
the _true believers in England_? It is true, if these are scattered
abroad, they come under another consideration. But when they are
visibly joined, by assembling together to hear the pure word of God
preached, and to eat of one bread, and drink of one cup, they are then
properly the visible church of _England_.
77. It were well if this were a little more considered by those, who
so vehemently cry out, _The church! the church!_ (as those of old,
_The temple of the Lord! the temple of the Lord!_) not knowing what
they speak, nor whereof they affirm. A provincial or national church,
according to our article, is, the true believers of that province
or nation. If these are dispersed up and down, they are only a part
of the invisible church of Christ. But if they are visibly joined by
assembling together to hear his word and partake of his supper, they
are then a visible church, such as the church of _England_, _France_,
or any other.
78. This being premised, I ask, How do we undermine or destroy the
church? The provincial, visible church of _England_? The article
mentions three things as essential to a visible church: 1st, Living
faith, without which indeed there can be no church at all, neither
visible nor invisible: 2dly, Preaching (and consequently hearing) the
pure word of God, else that faith would languish and die: and, 3dly,
A due administration of the sacraments, the ordinary means whereby God
increaseth faith. Now come close to the question: in which of these
points do we undermine or destroy the church?
Do we shut the door of faith? Do we lessen the number of believing
people in _England_? Only remember what faith is, according to our
homilies, (viz. “A sure trust and confidence in God, that through the
merits of Christ my sins are forgiven, and I reconciled to the favour
of God,”) And we appeal to all mankind, do we destroy this faith, which
is the life and soul of the church? Is there, in fact, less of this
faith, in _England_, than there was before we went forth! I think, this
is an assertion, which the father of lies himself will scarce dare to
utter or maintain.
With regard then to this first point, it is undeniable, we neither
undermine nor destroy the church. The second thing is, the preaching
the pure word of God. And do we hinder this? Do we hinder any minister
from preaching the pure word of God? If any preach not at all, or not
the pure word of God, is the hindrance in us or in themselves? Or, do
we lessen the number of those that hear the pure word of God? Are then
the hearers thereof (whether read or preached) _fewer_ than they were
in times past? Are the usual places of public worship _less frequented_
by means of our preaching? Wheresoever our lot has been cast for any
time, are the churches _emptier_ than they were before? Surely, none
that has any regard left either for truth or modesty, will say, that
_in this point_ we are enemies to, or destroyers of, the church.
The third thing requisite (if not to the _being_, at least) to the
_well being_ of a church, is the due administration of the sacraments,
particularly that of the Lord’s supper. And are we, in _this_ respect,
underminers or destroyers of the church? Do we either by our example
or advice, draw men away from the Lord’s table? Where we have labour’d
most, are there the fewest communicants? How does the fact stand in
_London_, _Bristol_, _Newcastle_? O that you would no longer shut your
eyes against the broad light which encompasses you on every side!
79. I believe you are sensible by this time, not only how weak this
objection is, but likewise how easy it would be, terribly to retort
every branch of it upon most of those that make it: whether we speak
of _true_ living faith, of preaching the _pure_ word of God, or of the
due administration of the sacraments, both of baptism and the Lord’s
supper. But I spare you. It sufficeth that our God knoweth, and will
make manifest in that day, whether it be by reason of _us_ or _you_,
that _men abhor the offering of the_ Lord.
80. Others object, “That we do not observe _the laws of the church_,
and thereby undermine it.” What laws? The rubricks or canons? In every
parish where I have been curate yet, I have observed the rubricks with
a scrupulous exactness, not for wrath, but for conscience sake. And
this, so far as belongs to an unbeneficed minister, or to a private
member of the church, I do now. I will just mention a few of them, and
leave you to consider, which of us has observed, or does observe them
most.
1. Days of fasting or abstinence to be observ’d:
The forty days of Lent,
The Ember days at the four seasons,
The three Rogation days,
All Fridays in the year, except _Christmas_-day.
2. “So many as intend to be partakers of the holy communion, shall
signify their names to the curate, at least some time the day before:
“And if any of these be an open and notorious evil liver,――――the curate
shall advertise him, that in any wise he presume not to come to the
Lord’s table, until he hath openly declared himself to have truly
repented.
3. “Then (after the _Nicene_ creed) the curate shall declare unto the
people, what holidays, or _fasting-days_, are in the week following to
be observed.
4. “The minister shall first receive the communion in both kinds
himself, and _then proceed to deliver the same to the bishops, priests,
and deacons, in like manner_, if any be present, and _after that_, to
the people.
5. “In cathedral and collegiate churches, and colleges, where there are
many priests and deacons, they shall _all receive the communion with
the priest, every Sunday at the least_.
6. “The children to be baptized must be ready at the font, _immediately
after the last lesson_.
7. “The curates of every parish shall warn the people, that without
great necessity, they procure not their children to be baptized _at
home in their houses_.
8. “The curate of every parish shall diligently _upon Sundays and
Holydays, after the second lesson at_ evening prayer, _openly in
the church_, instruct and examine so many children as he shall think
convenient, in some part of the catechism.
9. “Whensoever the bishop shall give notice for children to be brought
unto him for their confirmation, the curate of every parish, shall
either bring or _send in writing, with his hand subscribed thereunto,
the names of all such persons_ within his parish, as he shall think fit
to be presented to the bishop.”
81. Now the question is not, whether these rubrics ought to be observed,
(you take this for granted in making the objection) but whether in
fact they have been observed by you, or me, most? Many can witness, I
have observed them punctually, yea, sometimes at the hazard of my life:
and as many, I fear, that you, have not observed them at all, and that
several of them you never pretended to observe. And is it _you_ that
are accusing _me_, for not observing the rubrics of the church? What
grimace is this! _O tell it not in_ Gath! _Publish not in the streets
of_ Askelon!
82. With regard to the canons, I would in the first place desire you to
consider, two or three plain questions.
_1st_. Have you ever read them over?
_2dly_. How can these be called, “The canons of the church of
_England_?” Seeing they were never legally established by the church?
Never regularly confirmed in any full convocation?
_3dly_. By what right am I required to observe such canons as were
never legally established?
And then I will join issue with you on one question more, _viz._
Whether you or I _have observed_ them most?
To instance only in a few.
_Canon 29._ No person shall be admitted godfather or godmother to any
child,――before the said person hath received the holy communion.
_Canon 59._ Every parson, vicar, or curate, upon _every_ Sunday _and
Holiday, before evening prayer, shall, for half an hour, or more_,
examine and instruct the youth and ignorant persons of his parish.
_Canon 64._ Every parson, vicar, or curate, shall declare to the people
every Sunday, whether there be any holidays or _fasting-days_ the week
following.
_Canon 68._ No minister shall _refuse_ or _delay_ to christen any
child that is brought to the church to him upon Sundays or holidays
to be christened, or bury any corps that is brought to the church or
church-yard.
(_N. B._ Inability to pay fees does not alter the case.)
_Canon 75._ No ecclesiastical persons shall spend their time idly, by
day or by night, playing at _dice_, _cards_, or _tables_.
Now let the clergyman who has observed only these five canons for
one year last past, and who has read over all the canons in his
congregation; (as the king’s ratification straitly enjoins him to do
once every year) let him, I say, cast the first stone at us, for _not
observing the canons_ (so called) _of the church of_ England.
83. “However we cannot be (it is said) friends to the church, because
we do not _obey the governors of it_, and _submit ourselves_ (as at
our ordination we promised to do) _to all their godly admonitions and
injunctions_.”¹ I answer, in every individual point of an indifferent
nature, We do and will (by the grace of God) obey the governors of the
church. But the _testifying_ the _gospel of the grace of_ God, is not
a point of an indifferent nature. _The ministry which we have received
of the_ Lord Jesus, we are at all hazards to fulfil. It is _the burthen
of the_ Lord which is laid upon us here; and we are _to obey God rather
than man_. Nor yet do we in any ways violate the promise which each of
us made, when it was said unto him, “Take thou authority to preach the
word of God, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Ghost.” We then promised to _submit_ (mark the words) _to the |godly|
admonitions and injunctions of our ordinary_. But we did not, could
not promise to obey _such_ injunctions, as we know _are contrary to the
word of_ God.
¹ _The author of a tract just published at_ Newcastle,
(_entitled_, The notions of the Methodists fully disproved,
_in a letter to the Rev. Mr. |John Wesley|) much insists
upon this objection. I have read, and believe it quite
needless to take any further notice of this performance: the
writer being so utterly unacquainted with the merits of the
cause; and shewing himself so perfectly a stranger, both to
my life, preaching, and writing; and to the word of God, and
to the articles and homilies of the church of England._
84. “But why then (say some) do you leave the church?” _Leave the
church!_ What can you mean? Do we leave so much as the _church walls_?
Your own eyes tell you, we do not. Do we leave the _ordinances of
the church_? You daily see and know the contrary. Do we leave the
_fundamental doctrine of the church_, namely, Salvation by faith? It is
our constant theme, in public, in private, in writing, in conversation.
Do we leave the _practice of the church_, the standard whereof are
the ten commandments? Which are so essentially in-wrought in her
constitution, (as little as you may apprehend it) that whosoever breaks
one of the least of these, is no member of the church of _England_. I
believe you do not care to put the cause on this issue. Neither do you
mean this, by _leaving the church_. In truth, I cannot conceive what
you mean. I doubt you cannot conceive yourself. You have retailed a
sentence from somebody else, which you no more understand than he. And
no marvel; for it is a true observation,
“Nonsense is never to be understood.”
85. Nearly related to this is that other objection, that we _divide
the church_. Remember the church is, _The faithful people_, or true
believers. Now how do we _divide these_? “Why, by our societies.” Very
good. Now the case is plain. “We divide them (you say) by uniting them
together.” Truly, a very uncommon way of dividing. “O, but we divide
those who are thus united with each other, from the rest of the church.”
By no means. Many of them were before _joined to all their brethren_
of the church of _England_ (and many were not, until they knew us)
by _assembling themselves together_, to hear the word of God, and to
eat of one bread, and drink of one cup. And do they now _forsake that
assembling_ themselves together? You cannot, you dare not say it. You
know they are more diligent therein than ever; it being one of the
fixed rules of our societies, “That every member attend the ordinances
of God.” i. e. _do not divide from the church_. And if any member of
the church does thus divide from or leave it, he hath no more place
among us.
86. I have considered this objection the more at large, because it
is of most weight with sincere minds. And to all these, if they have
fairly and impartially weighed the answer as well as the objection,
I believe it clearly appears, that we are neither _undermining_ nor
_destroying_, neither _dividing_ nor _leaving_ the church. So far
from it, that we have great heaviness, on her account, yea, continual
sorrow in our hearts. And our prayer to God is, that he would repair
the breaches of Sion, and build the walls of Jerusalem, that this our
desolate church may flourish again, and be the praise of the whole
earth.
87. But perhaps you have heard, that “we in truth regard no church
at all: that gain is the true spring of all our actions: that I, in
particular, am well paid for my work, having thirteen hundred pounds
a year (as a reverend author accurately computes it) at the _Foundery_
alone, over and above what I receive from _Bristol_, _Kingswood_,
_Newcastle_, and other places: and that whoever survives me, will see
I have made good use of my time; for I shall not die a beggar.”
88. I freely own, this is one of the best devised objections, which has
ever yet been made; because it not only puts us upon proving a negative,
(which is seldom an easy task) but also one of such a kind as scarce
admits of any demonstrative proof at all. But for such proof as the
nature of the thing allows, I appeal to my manner of life which hath
been from the beginning. Ye who have seen it (and not with a friendly
eye) for these twelve or fourteen years last past, or for any part of
that time, Have ye ever seen any thing like the love of gain therein?
Did I not continually remember the words of the Lord Jesus, “_It is
more blessed to give than to receive_?” Ye of _Oxford_, Do ye not know
these things are so? What gain did I seek among you? Of whom did I take
any thing? From whom did I covet silver, or gold, or apparel? To whom
did I deny any thing which I had, even to the hour that I departed from
you?――Ye of _Epworth_ and _Wroote_, among whom I ministered for (nearly)
the space of three years, what gain did I seek among you? Or of whom
did I take or covet any thing?――Ye of _Savannah_ and _Frederica_, among
whom God afterwards proved me, and shewed me what was in my heart, what
gain did I seek among you? Of whom did I take any thing? Or whose food
or apparel did I covet (for silver or gold had ye none, no more than
I myself for many months) even when I was in hunger and nakedness? Ye
yourselves, and the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, know that
I lie not.
89. “But (it is said) things are fairly altered now. Now I can’t
complain of wanting any thing; having the yearly income of a bishop in
_London_, over and above what I gain at other places.” At what other
places, my friend? Inform yourself a little better, and you will find,
that both at _Newcastle_, _Bristol_, and _Kingswood_, and all other
places, where any collection is made) the money collected is both
received and expended by the stewards of those several societies, and
never comes into my hands at all, neither first nor last. And you, or
any who desire it, shall read over the accounts kept by any of those
stewards, and see with your own eyes, that by all these societies I
gain just as much as you do.
90. The case in _London_ stands thus. In _November 1739_, two gentlemen,
then unknown to me (Mr. _Ball_ and Mr. _Watkins_) came and desired
me once and again, to preach in a place called the _Foundery_ near
_Moorfields_. With much reluctance I at length complied. I was soon
after pressed to take that place into my own hands. Those who were
most earnest therein, lent me the purchase-money, which was 115l.
Mr. _Watkins_ and Mr. _Ball_ then delivered me the names of several
subscribers, who offered to pay, some four, or six, some ten shillings
a year towards the repayment of the purchase-money, and the putting the
buildings into repair. This amounted one year to near 200l. the second
to about 140, and so to the last.
91. The united society began a little after, whose weekly contribution
(for the poor) is received, and expended by the stewards, and comes
not into my hands at all. But there is also a quarterly subscription
of many of the society, which is nearly equal to that above mentioned.
92. The uses to which these subscriptions have been hitherto applied,
are, 1st, the payment of that 115l. 2dly. The repairing (I might almost
say rebuilding) that vast, uncouth heap of ruins at the _Foundery_;
3dly. The building galleries both for men and women; 4thly. The
enlarging the society room to near thrice its first bigness. All taxes
and occasional expences are likewise defrayed out of this fund. And
it has been hitherto so far from yielding any overplus, that it has
never sufficed for these purposes. So far from it, that I am still
in debt, on these accounts, near 300l. So much have I hitherto gained
by preaching the gospel! Besides a debt of 150l. still remaining on
account of the school built at _Bristol_; and another of above 200l.
on account of that now building at _Newcastle_. I desire any reasonable
man would now sit down and lay these things together, and let him see,
whether, allowing me a grain of common sense, (if not of common honesty)
he can possibly conceive, that a view of _gain_ would induce me to act
in this manner.
93. You can never reconcile it with any degree of common sense, that
a man who wants nothing, who has already all the necessaries, all the
conveniencies, nay, and many of the superfluities of life, and these
not only independent on any one, but less liable to contingencies than
even a gentleman’s freehold estate, that such an one should calmly and
deliberately throw up his ease, most of his friends, his reputation,
and that way of life, which of all others is most agreeable both to his
nature, temper, and education: that he should toil day and night, spend
all his time and strength, knowingly destroy a firm constitution, and
hasten into weakness, pain, diseases, death,――to gain a debt of six or
seven hundred pounds.
94. But suppose the ballance on the other side, let me ask you one
plain question. For what gain (setting conscience aside) will you
be obliged to act thus? To live exactly as I do? For what price will
you preach (and that with all your might, not in an _easy, indolent,
fashionable_ way) eighteen or nineteen times every week? And this
throughout the year? What shall I give you, to travel seven or eight
hundred miles, in all weathers, every two or three months? For what
salary will you abstain from all other diversions, than the doing good,
and the praising God? I am mistaken if you would not prefer strangling
to such a life, even with thousands of gold and silver.
95. And what is the comfort you have found out for me in these
circumstances? Why, that “I shall not die a beggar.” So now I am
supposed to be heaping up riches,――“that I may leave them behind me.”
Leave them behind me! For whom? My wife and children? Who are they?
They are yet unborn. Unless thou meanest the children of faith whom God
hath given me. But my heavenly Father feedeth them. Indeed if I lay up
riches at all, it must be _to leave behind me_: (seeing my fellowship
is a provision for life.) But I cannot understand this. What comfort
would it be to my soul, now launched into eternity, that I had _left
behind me_ gold as the dust, and silver as the sand of the sea? Will
it follow me over the great gulph? Or can I go back to it? Thou that
liftest up thy eyes in hell, what do thy riches profit thee now?
Will all thou once hadst under the sun, gain thee a drop of water to
cool thy tongue? O the comfort of riches left _behind_ to one who is
tormented in that flame!――You put me in mind of those celebrated lines
(which I once exceedingly admired) addressed by way of consolation to
the soul of a poor self-murderer:
“Yet shall thy grave with rising flowers be drest,
And the green turf lie light upon thy breast!
Here shall the year its earliest beauties shew:
Here the first roses of the spring shall blow:
While angels with their silver wings o’er shade
The place now sacred by thy relics made.”
96. I will now simply tell you my sense of these matters, whether you
will hear, or whether you will forbear. Food and raiment I have; such
food as I chuse to eat, and such raiment as I chuse to put on. I have
a place where to lay my head. I have what is needful for life and
godliness. And I apprehend this is all the world can afford. The kings
of the earth can give me no more. For as to gold and silver I count it
dung and dross; I trample it under my feet. I (yet not I, but by the
grace of God that is in me) esteem it just as the mire in the streets.
I desire it not: I seek it not; I only fear lest any of it should
cleave to me and I should not be able to shake it off, before my spirit
returns to God. It must indeed pass through my hands; but I will take
care (God being my helper) that the mammon of unrighteousness shall
only pass through; it shall not rest there. None of the accursed thing
shall be found in my tents, when the Lord calleth me hence. And hear
ye this, all you who have discovered the treasures which I am to leave
behind me. If I leave behind me ten pounds (above my debts, and my
books; or what may happen to be due on account of them) you and all
mankind bear witness against me, “that I lived and died a thief and
a robber.”
97. Before I conclude, I cannot but intreat you who know God, to review
the whole matter from the foundation. Call to mind what the state of
religion was in our nation a few years since. In whom did you find
the _holy tempers_ that were in Christ? Bowels of mercies, lowliness,
meekness, gentleness, contempt of the world, patience, temperance,
long-suffering? A burning love to God, rejoicing evermore and in
every thing giving thanks; and a tender love to all mankind, covering,
believing, hoping, enduring all things? Perhaps you did not know one
such man in the world. But how many, that had _all unholy tempers_?
What vanity and pride, what stubbornness and self-will, what anger,
fretfulness, discontent, what suspicion and resentment, what inordinate
affections, what irregular passions, what foolish and hurtful desires
might you find, in those who were called the _best_ of men? In those
who made the strictest profession of religion? And how few did you know
who went so far as the _profession_ of religion, who had even the _form
of godliness_? Did you not frequently bewail, wherever your lot was
cast, the general want even of _outward religion_? How few were seen
at the public worship of God? How much fewer at the Lord’s table? And
was even this little flock zealous of good works, careful as they had
time, to do good to all men? On the other hand, did you not with grief
observe, _outward irreligion_ in every place? Where could you be for
one week, without being an eye or an ear-witness, of cursing, swearing,
or prophaneness, of sabbath-breaking or drunkenness, of quarrelling or
brawling, of revenge or obscenity? Were these things done in a corner?
Did not gross iniquity of all kinds overspread our land as a flood? Yea,
and daily increase, in spite of all the opposition which the children
of God did or could make against it.
98. If you had been then told, that the jealous God would soon arise
and maintain his own cause; that he would pour down his Spirit from
on high, and renew the face of the earth; that he would shed abroad
his love in the hearts of the outcasts of men, producing all holy and
heavenly tempers, expelling anger, and pride, and evil desire, and all
unholy and earthly tempers; causing outward religion, the work of faith,
the patience of hope, the labour of love, to flourish and abound; and
wherever it spread, abolishing outward-irreligion, destroying all the
works of the devil: if you had been told, that this living knowledge of
the Lord would in a short space of time overspread our land; yea, and
daily increase, in spite of all the opposition which the devil and his
children did or could make against it: Would you not have vehemently
desired to see that day, that you might bless God and rejoice therein?
99. Behold the day of the Lord is come. He is again visiting and
redeeming his people. Having eyes, see ye not? Having ears, do ye not
hear? Neither understand with your hearts? At this hour the Lord is
rolling away our reproach. Already his standard is set up. His spirit
is poured forth on the outcasts of men, and his love shed abroad in
their hearts. Love of all mankind, meekness, gentleness, humbleness of
mind, holy and heavenly affections, do take place of hate, anger, pride,
revenge, and vain affections. Hence wherever the power of the Lord
spreads, springs outward religion in all its forms. The houses of God
are filled; the table of the Lord is thronged on every side. And those
who thus shew their love of God, shew they love their neighbour also,
by being careful to maintain good works, by doing all manner of good,
as they have time, to all men. They are likewise careful to abstain
from all evil. Cursing, sabbath-breaking, drunkenness, with all other
(however fashionable) works of the devil, are not once named among
them. All this is plain demonstrable fact. For this also is not done
in a corner. Now, do you acknowledge the day of your visitation? Do you
bless God and rejoice therein?
100. What hinders? Is it this, that men say all manner of evil of those
whom God is pleased to use as instruments in his work? O ye fools,
did ye suppose the devil was dead? Or that he would not fight for his
kingdom? And what weapons shall he fight with, if not with lies? Is
he not a liar, and the father of it? Suffer ye then thus far. Let the
devil and his children say all manner of evil of us. And let them go on
deceiving each other, and being deceived. But ye need not be deceived
also.――――Or if you are, if you will believe all they say: be it so,
that we are weak, silly, wicked men; without sense, without learning,
without even a desire or design of doing good: yet I insist upon the
fact. Christ is preached and sinners are converted to God. This none
but a madman can deny. We are ready to prove it by a cloud of witnesses.
Neither therefore can the inference be denied, that God is now visiting
his people. O that all men may know in this their day, the things that
make for their peace!
101. Upon the whole, to men of the world I would still recommend the
known advice of _Gamaliel_: _Refrain from these men, and let them alone;
for if this work be of men, it will come to nought; but if it be of God,
ye cannot overthrow it, lest haply ye be found even to fight against
God_. But unto you whom God hath chosen out of the world, I say ye are
our brethren, and of our father’s house, it behoveth you, in whatsoever
manner ye are able, _to strengthen our hands in God_. And this ye are
all able to do; to wish us good luck in the name of the Lord, and, to
pray continually, that none of _these things may move us_, and that _we
may not count our lives dear unto ourselves, so that we may finish our
course with joy, and the ministry which we have received of the Lord
Jesus_!
Written in the year 1744.
* * * * *
_Primitive Christianity._
1 HAPPY the souls who first believ’d,
To Jesus, and each other cleav’d,
Join’d by the unction from above,
In mystic fellowship of love.
2 Meek, simple followers of the Lamb,
They liv’d, and spake, and thought the same,
Brake the commemorative bread,
And drank the Spirit of their head.
3 On God they cast their every care,
Wrestling with God in mighty prayer,
They claim’d the grace, thro’ Jesus given:
By prayer, they shut, and open’d heaven.
4 To Jesus they perform’d their vows,
A little church in every house;
They joyfully conspir’d to raise
Their ceaseless sacrifice of praise.
5 Propriety was there unknown,
None call’d what he possess’d his own;
Where all the common blessings share,
No selfish happiness was there.
6 With grace abundantly endu’d,
A pure, believing multitude;
They all were of one heart and soul,
And only love inspir’d the whole.
7 O what an age of golden days!
O what a choice, peculiar race!
Wash’d in the Lamb’s all-cleansing blood,
Anointed kings, and priests to God.
8 Where shall I wander now to find
The successors they left behind?
The faithful, whom I seek in vain,
Are minish’d from the sons of men.
9 Ye different sects, who all declare,
Lo! here is Christ, or Christ is there!
Your stronger proofs divinely give,
And shew me where the Christians live.
10 Your claim, alas! ye cannot prove,
Ye want the genuine mark of love:
Thou only, Lord, thine own canst shew,
For sure thou hast a church below.
11 The gates of hell cannot prevail,
The church on earth can never fail:
Ah! join me to thy secret ones,
Ah! gather all thy living stones.
12 Scatter’d o’er all the earth they lie,
’Till Thou collect them with thine eye,
Draw by the music of thy name,
And charm into a beauteous frame.
13 For this the pleading Spirit groans,
And cries in all thy banish’d ones:
Greatest of gifts, thy love impart,
And make us of one mind and heart.
14 Join every soul that looks to thee,
In bonds of perfect charity:
Now, Lord, the glorious fulness give,
And all in all for ever live.
PART II.
1 JESUS, from whom all blessings flow,
Great builder of thy church below,
If now thy spirit moves my breast,
Hear, and fulfil thy own request.
2 The few that truly call thee Lord,
And wait thy sanctifying word;
And thee their utmost Saviour own,
Unite, and perfect them in one.
3 Gather them in on every side,
And in thy tabernacle hide;
Give them a resting place to find,
A covert from the storm and wind.
4 O find them out some calm recess,
Some unfrequented wilderness!
Thou, Lord, the secret place prepare,
And hide and feed _the woman_ there.
5 Thither collect thy little flock,
Under the shadow of their rock:
The holy seed, the royal race,
The standing monuments of thy grace?
6 O let them all thy mind express,
Stand forth thy chosen witnesses!
Thy power unto salvation shew,
And perfect holiness below.
7 The fulness of thy grace receive,
And simply to thy glory live;
Strongly reflect the light divine,
And in a land of darkness shine.
8 In them let all mankind behold,
How Christians liv’d in days of old;
(Mighty their envious foes to move,
A proverb of reproach――and love.)
9 O make them of one soul and heart,
The all-conforming mind impart;
Spirit of peace and unity,
The sinless mind that was in thee.
10 Call them into thy wond’rous light,
Worthy to walk with thee in white;
Make up thy jewels, Lord, and shew,
The glorious, spotless church below.
11 From every sinful wrinkle free,
Redeem’d from all iniquity:
The fellowship of saints make known;
And O my God, might I be one!
12 O might my lot be cast with these,
The least of Jesu’s witnesses!
O that my Lord would count me meet
To wash his dear disciples feet!
13 This only thing do I require,
Thou know’st ’tis all my heart’s desire,
Freely what I receive to give,
The servant of thy church to live:
14 After my lowly Lord to go,
And wait upon the saints below,
Enjoy the grace to angels given,
And serve the royal heirs of heaven.
15 Lord, if I now thy drawings feel,
And ask according to thy will,
Confirm the prayer, the zeal impart,
And speak the answer to my heart.
16 Tell me (or thou shalt never go)
“Thy prayer is heard, it shall be so”――――
The word hath pass’d thy lips――and I
Shall with thy people live and die.
A farther APPEAL
To MEN of
REASON and RELIGION.
_Let the righteous smite me friendly and reprove me._
Psalms CXLI. 5.