FROM GOULBURN’S “THOUGHTS ON PERSONAL RELIGION.”

[_March 2._]

There is no interruption in the world, however futile and apparently

perverse, which we may not address ourselves to meet _with a spirit of

patience and condescension borrowed from our Master_; and to have made

a step in advance in conforming to the mind of Christ will be quite as

great a gain (probably a far greater) than if we had been engaged in

our pursuit. For, after all, we may be _too_ intent upon our business,

or rather intent in a wrong way. The radical fault of our nature, be it

remembered, is self-will; and we little suspect how largely self-will and

self-pleasing may be at the bottom of plans and pursuits, which still

have God’s glory and the furtherance of his service for their professed

end.

Reader, the path which we have indicated is the path not of sanctity

only, but of peace also. We shall never serve God with a quiet mind,

unless we more or less tread in this path. It is a miserable thing to be

the sport and prey of interruptions; it wastes the energies of the human

spirit, and excites fretfulness, and so leads us into temptation, as it

is written, “Fret not thyself, else thou shalt be moved to do evil.” But

suppose the mind to be well grounded in the truth that God’s foresight

and fore-arrangement embrace all which seems to us an interruption—that

in this interruption lies awaiting us a good work in which it is part of

his eternal counsel that we should walk, or a good frame of mind which

he wishes us to cultivate; then we are forearmed against surprises and

contradictions; we have formed an alchemy which converts each unforeseen

and untoward occurrence into gold; and the balm of peace distills

upon our heart, even though we be disappointed of the end which we had

proposed to ourselves. For which is better, safer, sweeter—to walk in the

works which God hath before ordained, or to walk in the way of our own

hearts and in the sight of our eyes?

Ah, reader! let us seek to grasp the true notion of Providence, for in

it there is peace and deep repose of soul. Life has often been compared

to a drama. Now, in a good drama there is one plot, variously evolved

by incidents of different kinds, which until the last act present

entanglement and confusion. Vice has its temporary triumphs, virtue its

temporary depressions. What of that? You know it will come right in the

end. You know there is an organizing mind which unfolds the story, and

that the poet will certainly bring the whole to a climax by the ultimate

indication of righteousness and the doing of poetical justice upon

malefactors. To this end every shifting of the scene, every movement of

the actors, every by-plot and underplot is made to contribute. Wheel

within wheel is working together toward this result. Well, life is God’s

great drama. It was thought out and composed in the Eternal Mind before

the mountains were brought forth, or even the earth and the world were

made. In time God made a theater for it, called the earth; and now the

great drama is being acted thereon. It is on a gigantic scale—this

drama. The scenes are shifting every hour. One set of characters drops

off the stage, and new ones come on to play much the same part as the

first, only in new dresses. There seem to be entanglements, perplexities,

interruptions, confusions, contradictions without end; but you may be

sure there is one ruling thought, one master design, to which all these

are subordinate. Every incident, every character, however apparently

adverse, contributes to work out that ruling thought. Think you that

the Divine Dramatist will leave anything out of the scope of his plot?

Nay, the circumference of that plot embraces within its vast sweep every

incident which time ever brought to birth.

Thou knowest that the mind which organized this drama is Wisdom. Thou

knowest more; thou knowest that it is Love. Then of its ending grandly,

wisely, nobly, lovingly, infinitely well for them who love God, there can

be no doubt. But remember you are an actor in it; not a puppet worked by

wires, but an actor. It is yours to study the plot as it unfolds itself,

to throw yourself into it intelligently, warmly, zealously. Be sure to

learn your part well, and to recite it manfully. Be not clamorous for

another or more dignified character than that which is allotted you—be it

your sole aim to conspire with the Author, and to subserve his grand and

wise conception.

Thus shall you cease from your own wisdom. Thus shall you find peace in

submitting yourself to the wisdom which is of God, and thus, finally,

shall he pronounce you a good and faithful servant, and summon you to

enter into the joy of your Lord.

[_March 9._]

Now here comes out another point of holy policy in the combat with

temptations. It is wise, especially when they are at their height, never

to look them full in the face. To consider their suggestions, to debate

with them, to fight it out with them inch by inch in a listed field,

is, generally speaking, a sure way to fail. Turn the mind to Christ

at the first assault, and keep it fixed there with pertinacity, until

this tyranny be overpast. Consider him, if thou wilt, after the picture

here presented to us. Think of him as one who walked amidst temptations

without ever being submerged by them, as of one who by his grace can

enable his followers to do the same. Think of him as calm, serene, firm,

majestic, amidst the most furious agitations and turbulences of nature,

and as one who can endue thy heart with a similar steadfastness. Think

of him as interceding for his Church on the Mount of Glory, as watching

them while they toil in rowing against the adverse influences which

beset them round about upon the sea of life, as descending on the wings

of love to their relief. Think of him as standing close by thee in thy

immediate neighborhood, with a hand outstretched for thy support as soon

as ever thou lookest toward him. Remember that _it is not you who are

to conquer, but he who is to conquer in you_; and accordingly, “even

as the eyes of servants wait upon the hand of their masters, and as

the eyes of the maiden upon the hand of her mistress, even so let your

eyes wait upon him, until he have mercy upon you.” No man ever fell in

this attitude of expectant faith; he falls because he allows himself

to look at the temptation, to be fascinated by its attractiveness, or

terrified by its strength. One of the greatest sermons in our language is

on the expulsive power of a new affection, and the principle laid down

in that sermon admits of application to the circumstances of which we

are speaking. There can be, of course, no temptation without a certain

correspondence of the inner man with the immediate occasion of the trial.

Now, do you desire to weaken this correspondence, to cut it off and make

it cease? Fill the mind and heart with another affection, and let it be

the affection for Christ crucified. Thus will the energies of the soul,

which will not suffice for two strong actions at the same time, be drawn

off into another quarter; and beside, the great enemy, seeing that his

assaults only provoke you to a continuous exercise of faith, will soon

lay down his arms, and you shall know experimentally the truth of those

words, “Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able

to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one.” There can be no doubt

that this counsel of looking only upon Christ in the hour of temptation

will be most needed (if our conscience and mind be spared us to the

end), in the critical hour when flesh and heart are failing, and when

Satan for the last time is permitted to assault our faith. We can well

imagine that in that hour doubts will be busily instilled of Christ’s

love and power, suggestions of our own unfaithfulness to him in times

past and questions as to whether he will now receive us. The soul will

then possibly be scared by terrors, as the disciples in the boat were

scared with the thoughts of a phantom, and will tremble in apprehension

of being thrust out from the frail bark of the body into the darkness,

uncertainty, insecurity of the new and untried element. If such should be

the experience of any one who reads these pages, let him take with him

this one counsel of safety, to look only to Christ, and to perish, if he

perishes, at his feet; let us refuse to look in any other quarter, let us

steadily turn away our eyes from the doubts, the painful recollection,

the alarming anticipations which the enemy is instilling. We are not

proposing to be saved on the ground of any righteousness in ourselves,

or in any other way than by free grace, as undone sinners; then let

these words be the motto of the tempest-tossed soul: “My soul hangeth

upon thee; thy right hand hath upholden me;” ay, and let it be the motto

_now_, in hours when lesser trials assault us. Let us make proof even now

of the invincibility of the shield of faith, that we may bring it forth

in that hour with greater confidence in its power to shield us. And the

hand of an infinite love shall uphold us in the last, as it has done in

previous ordeals, and the prayer shall be answered, which we have offered

so often over the grave of departed friends:

“Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts; shut not thy merciful

ears to our prayer; but spare us, Lord most holy, O God most mighty, O

holy and merciful Savior, thou most worthy Judge eternal, suffer us not,

at our last hour, for any pains of death to fall from thee.” “My flesh

and my heart faileth; but God is the strength of my heart and my portion

forever.” “O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?”

[_March 16._]

Never lower your principles to the world’s standard. Never let sin,

however popular it may be, have any sanction or countenance from you,

even by a smile. The manly confession of Christ, when his cause is

unpopular, is made by himself the condition of his confessing us before

men. If people find out that we are earnestly religious, as they soon

will, if the light is shining, let us make them heartily welcome to

the intelligence, and allow them to talk and criticise as much as they

please. And then, again, in order that the lights may shine without

obstruction, in order that it may easily transpire what we are, we must

be simple, and study simplicity. This is by no means so easy as it at

first sight appears; for in this highly artificial and pretentious age

all society is overlaid with numerous affectations. Detest affectation,

as the contrary of truth, and as hypocrisy on a small scale; and allow

yourself freely to be seen by those around you in your true colors.

There is an affectation of indifference to all things, and of a lack of

general sensibility, which is becoming very prevalent in this age, and

which is the sworn foe to all simplicity of character. The persons who

labor under this moral disorder pretend to have lost their freshness of

interest in every thing; for them, as they would have it believed, there

is no surprise and no enthusiasm. Without assuming that they are really

the unimpressionable creatures which they would make themselves out to

be, we may warn them that the wilful dissembling of a generous emotion is

the way to suppress it. As Christians, we must eschew untruth in every

form; we must labor to seem just what we are, neither better nor worse.

To be true to God and to the thought of his presence all day long, and to

let self occupy as little as possible of our thoughts; to care much for

his approval, and comparatively little for the impression we are making

on others; to feed the inward light with oil, and then freely to allow it

to shine; this is the great secret of edification. May he indoctrinate us

into it, and dispose and enable us to illustrate it in our practice.

[_March 23._]

See now, tempted soul, whether this consideration, applied to your own

case, may not somewhat lighten thy burden. You are beset by distractions

in prayer and meditation. Well, distractions are no sin; nay, if

struggled against patiently and cheerfully, they shall be a jewel in

thy crown. Did you go through with the religious exercise as well as

you could, not willingly harboring the distraction or consenting to

it? In this case the prayer was quite as acceptable as if it had been

accompanied with those high-flown feelings of fervor and sensible

delight which God sometimes gives and sometimes, for our better

discipline and humiliation, withholds. Nay, may we not say, that it was

much more acceptable? Do not the Scriptures give us reason to think

that prayer, persevering amidst difficulties and humiliations, prayer

clinging close to Christ, despite his rebuffs, _is_ more acceptable

than the prayer which has its way smooth before it, and whose wings

are filled by the favoring gale? What else are we to learn from the

acceptance of Bartimæus’s petition, who cried so much the more when the

multitude rebuked him that he should hold his peace? What else from

the commendation and recompense of the Syro-Phœnician’s faith? Wouldst

thou know the avenue to the Savior’s heart, when thou art driven from

his footstool by manifold discouragements, by deadness, numbness,

insensibility—and he himself seems to cover himself with a cloud, so

that thy prayer may not pass through? Confess thyself a dog, and plead

for such crumbs as are the dog’s allowed and recognized portion. Call

to mind the many times when thou hast turned a deaf ear to Christ’s

expostulations with thee through thy conscience. Reflect that thou

hast deserved nothing but repulses, and to have thy drafts upon him

dishonored; and yet cling to his sacred feet, while thou sinkest low

before him, resolving not to let him go except he bless thee; and this

act of humility and perseverance shall make thy lame and halting prayer

far more acceptable to the Divine Majesty than if it sailed to heaven

with all the fluency of conscious inspiration, like Balaam’s prophecy of

old, which was prefaced, unhappy soul, by the assertion of his gifts.

[_March 30._]

The remedy, and under God’s grace the only remedy, whether in solitude

or in company, is to “watch”—to “guard,” as far as in us lies, “the

first springs of thought and will.” Let us pray and strive for the habit

of challenging our sentiments, and making them give up their passport;

eyeing them wistfully when they apply for admittance, and seeking to

unmask those which have a questionable appearance.…

It will be found that all the more grievous falls of the tempted soul

come from this—that the keeping of the heart has been neglected, that

the evil has not been nipped in the bud. We have allowed matters to

advance to a question of conduct—“shall I say this, or not say it?” “Do

this, or not do it?” Whereas the stand should be made higher up and the

ground disputed in the inner man. As if the mere restraint upon outward

conduct, without the homage of the heart to God’s law, could avail us

aught, or be anything else than an offensive hypocrisy in the eyes of

the Heart-searcher! As if Balaam’s refraining from the malediction

of the lips, while his heart was going after his covetousness,

could be acceptable to the Almighty! Balaam, being an inspired and

divinely-commissioned man, _dared_ not disobey; for he knew too well what

would be the result of such an abuse of his supernatural gifts. But we,

if, like Balaam, we have allowed to evil a free range over our hearts,

_are sure to disobey when it comes to a question of conduct_, not being

restrained by the fear of miraculous punishment, which alone held him

back. There is therefore no safety for us except in taking our stand

at the avenues of the will, and rejecting at once every questionable

impulse. And this, it is obvious, can not be done without watchfulness

and self-recollection—without a continual bearing in mind where, and

what we are, and that we have a treasure in our keeping, of which our

foes seek to rob us. Endeavor to make your heart a little sanctuary, in

which you may continually realize the presence of God, and from which

unhallowed thoughts, and even vain thoughts must carefully be excluded.

The Chautauquan, Vol. 04, March 1884, No. 6 · 第 20 / 158 题