Individual Cases, 1853.
An Archbishop of Canterbury, in old times, contrasted public preaching
with personal dealing in this way: When we preach, it is like dashing
water from a bucket upon so many vessels which are arranged before
us-some drops fall into one, and some into another, while others remain
empty; but when we speak to individuals, it is like pouring water into
the neck of a vessel.
I gave up writing and printing pamphlets, and went on as quietly as I
could with my own work, looking out for individual cases as they
presented themselves in the providence of God. In this way, without
fermenting controversy or keeping up public excitement, I was able more
effectually to impart my meaning, than by printed statements, which I
found were misunderstood or distorted; and what is more, I was able to
apply the truth with an individual "Have you?" It would take more space
than I can afford to tell of the souls which were gained in this way. I
will give here only a few instances, which are interesting, and which
will sustain the thread of my narrative. The first was in the case of
one who began an argument on Baptismal Grace. I asked him what it was.
"I know what converting or saving' grace is; but what is this?" He did
not say more, than that in Baptism he was made a member of Christ, a
child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven.
"But," I asked, "suppose you have not repented and believed, what then?"
Receiving no answer, I continued, "Then, nothing; but the responsibility
and the name."
A few days afterwards he came to me, saying that I had made him quite
miserable, and asked me whether I meant to deny the necessity of
baptism. I said, "Certainly not, but the condition of faith and
repentance must be fulfilled. Whatever Baptismal Regeneration may be,
Spiritual Regeneration is the work of the Spirit in those who believe in
Christ Jesus." After a long talk and prayer, he appeared to understand
that a conscious change should be wrought in him, and a spiritual
faculty imparted, by which he could "see the kingdom of God." He
remained for the evening service and meeting in the schoolroom and was
much impressed with what he witnessed. Instead of going away, he stayed
with me till after midnight, when he found peace with God (as he said)
in the church where we had been praying. Then he ordered his horse and
rode home; but before he set out, he exacted a promise from me that I
would not mention his conversion to any one. I consented to this, on the
condition that he announce the change which had been wrought in him,
from his pulpit on the following Sunday.
A few days afterwards my friend came to me in a great rage, and charged
me with announcing his conversion all over the town. I told him that I
was not sure enough of it myself to say anything about it, and that I
had not spoken to a single person on the subject. Still he seemed to
doubt me, for he said his brother had been with him, and had told him
that it was known all over the town that he had been to Baldhu, and that
he was converted. Upon inquiry, I found out that my servant, who sat up
till after mid-night to get his horse, had overheard our conversation,
and was the offending party.
I am always afraid of persons who are ashamed to acknowledge their
conversion. My friend, I am sorry to say, made no announcement, but went
on preaching as if he had always been the same, and consequently never
came out to be of any use or help in the work. His testimony was
indistinct also, and without any power. He became a very popular
preacher afterwards, which was his great ambition, for he cared more for
a large congregation than for Wining Souls.
Soon after this, I fell across another of my old friends in the street.
He tried to avoid me, but I went up and shook hands with him. At first
he would not look at me, and said he was afraid of me because I had
changed my views. I assured him that I had not changed anything, but
that I had myself been changed. As he was listening, I went on to tell
him that I had long tried to make myself good enough for God's
acceptance, but finding that Christ would not receive reformed
characters, I came to Him as a poor lost sinner, and He saved me. Seeing
that he continued attentive, I was proceeding to make my meaning
plainer, when he turned round, and looking sternly at me, said, "If I
understand you, I am to cry for mercy as 'a common sinner.'"
"Yes," I replied, being very pleased to find that he had understood me
so well.
"Then." he said, "I will do no such thing." With this, he turned away
and departed. When he saw that I was following him, he said, "I desire
you will not speak to me any more. I do not agree with you."
One morning, a short time after, I was praying and meditating in the
church, when it came to my mind forcibly that I must go to this man's
parish. I rose from my knees forthwith, saying to myself that I would
go; but immediately the thought came to me, "This suggestion is not from
God, for He must know that my horse has lost two shoes, and could not go
all that distance." However, I returned home, and went to the stable to
inquire, when, to my surprise, I found that my man had taken the horse
out very early in the morning, and had got him properly shod. "He is all
right for a long journey, master," he said, "if you want to go."
"Well," I said, "put on the saddle, and be ready in half-an-hour." I
went in to prepare, and started in due time. On the way I was thinking
what I would say, and how I would begin the conversation, for as yet I
did not know the particular message I was to take.
When I arrived at my friend's gate, I saw the marks of his horse's feet,
as if he had just gone out. However, I rode up to the front door, and
rang the bell. His wife appeared, and said that her husband had gone
out, and would not be back before six o'clock; she added, "You look
disappointed"; and so I was, for I thought the Lord had sent me with
some message to him. The lady kindly asked me to put up my horse,
saying, "Perhaps he may return sooner; you had better rest a little." I
thanked her, and doing so, went in.
As soon as we were seated, the lady said, "I have been wishing to see
you for a long time; we have started more than once to visit you, when
my husband's courage has failed him, and we have returned. He says that
he loves you still; but, somehow, he is very much afraid of you."
Then she went on to tell me that when they were removing from their late
parish to where they now were, having sent all their furniture on, they
were driving in their own carriage; and that coming along ever a bleak
and desolate moor, the horse took fright at something, they knew not
what, and ran away. Because it could not get along fast enough from its
imaginary object of fear, it began to kick, and breaking the carriage in
pieces, made its escape, leaving her and her husband on the ground. He
was not much hurt, and soon rose, and came to help her. She was severely
bruised, and her leg was broken besides. He managed to drag her gently
to the side of the road, where there was a little bank, and, colleting
some of the broken pieces of the carriage, he placed them round her for
protection, and hurried off in order to get assistance. He had to go two
miles and was absent nearly three hours. During that time she suffered
great pain, but it came to her mind all at once that her sins were
pardoned; she was exceedingly happy, and could not help thanking and
praising God. In this state her husband found her when he returned, and
on hearing her talk, became very unhappy, because he thought that
besides her leg, her head was broken too; and that she was going out of
her mind. She assured him over and over again that she was wonderfully
well, and really happy; but he could not bear to hear her talk like
that, and said that he should go mad also, if she did not stop.
During the six weeks she was laid up, he continually brought doctors and
clergymen to talk her out of her delusion as he thought it, but without
avail. Her happiness continued for several months, and then gradually
died away. She asked me, "Can you tell me the meaning of this?" I was
deeply interested with her experience, and told her that I had read of a
similar one only a few days before. My heart now began to cheer up, for
I saw why I had been sent to this place. I at once pointed her to
passages of Scripture, where we are told that we have forgiveness of
sins through the blood of Jesus, and I put Christ crucified before her
as the object of faith. I told her, that as certainly as the blood Jesus
had been shed, there was mercy and forgiveness for her. I said, "I
believe it, and have forgiveness: and you may have it too; not because
you feel happy, but because Jesus died." She did believe, and we
rejoiced together.
She exclaimed, "Oh that the Lord would change my husband's heart, and
bring you here for a revival!"
"Very well," I said, "let us ask Him," and we did so. I then rode home
raising God.
Before leaving, I promised to come again on the following Wednesday. I
kept my word, and had an interview with her husband; but it was not
encouraging. He said he could not agree to ask for mercy as a sinner,
because he had been baptized. Some months afterwards his manservant came
to me on horseback at three o'clock in the morning, to say that his
master was very bad, and would I come as soon as possible and see him. I
asked, "What is the matter?" "Oh, bless the Lord," said the man, "it'll
all about his soul! ....That is right" I replied, thanking God; "I will
go with you at once," and immediately I saddled my horse, and rode back
with him.
I found my friend was under deep conviction, and in the greatest misery;
he now thought that he was a most "uncommon sinner," and that there was
no mercy for him, there could not be any! After a time he acknowledged
the power of God to forgive sin, and declared that he believed in
Christ, and I was led to say "he that believeth hath everlasting life."
Upon this text he found peace, and we all praised God together.
The Sunday following, he asked the congregation to thank God with him
for having saved his soul; and in his sermon told them something of his
experience. Subsequently his church became the centre of a work of God,
as Mr. Aitken's church and mine were in our respective neighbourhoods.
The power of the Lord overshadowed the place, and there was as usual a
simultaneous melting of hearts all over the parish, and a running
together of the people to hear the Word, and what is better to obey it.
Then followed a true Cornish revival with full manifestations, and Mr.
Aitken came to preach. The fire was burning and shining before; but when
this mighty man stirred it, it rose to a tremendous height. The
excitement of the parson and people was intense, and hundreds of souls
were added to the Church, who had been brought from the death of sin
into the life of righteousness which all the previous preaching on
Baptism and the Lord's Supper had failed to produce.