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THE
WORKS
OF
THE REV. JOHN NEWTON,
LATE
RECTOR OF THE UNITED PARISHES
OF
ST. MARY WOOLNOTH ^ ST. MARY WOOLCHURCH HAW,
LOJVDOA''.
From the last London Edition,
PUBLISHED BY DIRECTION OF HIS EXECUTORS;
IN SIX VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
J^EW-YORK:
PUBLISHED BY WILLIAMS 8c WHITING,
AX THEIR THSOLOGICAL AND CLASSICAL BOOK-STORE)
N'*. 118, Pearl-street.
J. SEYMOUR, Printer.
1810,
CONTENTS
OF VOLUME I.
AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE OF SOME REMARKABLE
AND INTERESTING PARTICULARS IN THE LIFE
OF **»••», IN FOURTEEN LETTERS.
Page
Preface, • • ^
Let.
1. Introductoiy Obsen-ations, 5
2. Occurrences in early Life, . . .' 12
3. Journey to Kent, Voyage to Venice, 5cc 18
4. Voyage to Madeira, Entry on board a Guineaman, and
Voyage to Africa, 31
5 Hardships endured in Africa, 38
6. Lnlargement in Africa, 45
7. Voyage from Cape Lopez for England, 52
8. Danger, Sec. ic the Voyage from Cape Lopez, 59
9. Events in Ireland, and arrival in England, ....... 66
10 \oyage to Atrica, 72
1 1. Voyage to Antigua, return to England, and Marriage, . 79
12. Another Voyage to Africa, 86
13. Last Voyage to Africa, &C 92
14. Conclusion of the Narrative, 99
FORTY-ONE LETTF.RS ON RELIGIOUS SUBBJECTS,
BY OMICRON AND VIGIL.
1. On Trust in God, 109
2. To a Student in Divinity, 115
3. Whether the Sins of Believers shall be publicly decla-
red at the great Day ? 123
4. To T heron, on Family Worship, 128
5. On the Snares and Difficulties attending the Ministry
of the Gospel, 135
6. Of the practical Influence of Faith, 142
7. On the Propriety of a Ministerial Address to the Un-
converted, 14$
3. On the inward Witness to the ground and reality of Faith, 155
9. On tfie Doctrines of Election and final Perseverance, . 162
10. Grace in the Blade, Mark iv. 28, 171
11. Grace in the Ear, Mark iv. 28, 178
12. The full Corn in the Ear, Mark iv. 28, 184
iv CONTENTS.
Let. Page
13. On hearing Sermons, 192
14. On Temptation, 200
15. A Plan of a compendious Christian Library, 210
16. On the Inefficacy of our Knowledge, 219
17. On a Believer's Frames, 226
18. Thoughts on the Exercise of social Prayer, 23*
19. On Controversy, 241
20. On Confoi-mity to the World, 24/
21. I was once Blind, but now I See, 354
22. On the Advantages of a State of Poverty, 261
23. On Simplicity and Godly Sincerity, 270
24. On Communion with God, 276
25. On Faith, and the Communion of Saints, 284
26. On the Increase of Gospel-Illumination, 290
27. On Union with Christ, 292
28. Of the Lord's promised Guidance, 294
29. On the earnest Expectation of the Creature, waiting for
the Manifestation of the Sons of God, Rom, viii. 19, 20,21, 302
30. On the right Use of the Law, , 310
31. Of Love to the Brethren, 320
32. On Candour, 325
jH On Man in hisfallen Estate, J 33^
35. On Things lovely, and of good Report, 346
36. To a gay Friend on his Recovery from Illness, .... 353
37. On Christian Experience, 357
.38. Religion necessary to the Enjoyment of Life, .... 366
3!). A Word in Season, 371
40. To Professors in Trade, 378
41. On the Ministry of Angels, 382
CARDIPHONIA, OR THE UTTERANCE OF THE HEART;
IN THE COURSE OF A REAL CORRESPONDENCE.
Twenty-six Letters to a Nobleman, 393
Eight Letters to the Rev. Mr. S****, 521
Eleven Letters to Mr. B***», 8tc 581
Four Letters to the Rev. Mr. R****, 607
A Letter to the Rev. Mr. O****, 618
Seven Letters to the Rev. Mr. P****, 623
Three Letters to INIrs. G****, s ^39
Two Letters to Miss F****, 654
Four Letters to the Rev. Dr. •***, 660
AN
AUTHENTIC NARRATIV>E
OF
JOME REMARKABLE AND INTERESTING PARTICULARS
IN THE
LIFE OF *********
COMMITNICATED,
IN A SERIES OF LETTERS,
TO THE
REV. T. HAWEIS,
RECTOR OF ALDWINCKLE, NORTHAMPTONSHIRE}
AND BY HIM, AT THK REQUEST OF FRIENDS, NOW MADE PUBLIC.
I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not, I will lead them in paths
that they have not known ; 1 will make darkness light before them, and
crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not for-
sake them. Is. xlii. 16.
I am as a wonder unto many. Psat. Ixxi. 7.
Vol. I. B
PREFACE.
Xhe first of the following letters is so well adapted an intro-
duction to the rest, that to trouble the reader with a long
preface would be quite needless and impertinent. I ^dll
therefore detain him from entering upon the delightful and
instructive relation which the following sheets present him
with, little longer than while I assure him, that the narra-
tive is quite genuine, and that the following lettere were
written to me at my request. Some verbal relations of the
facts awakened my cmiosity to see a more connected ac-
count of them, which the author very obligingly consented
to, having at that time no intention of its being made pub-
lic. But the repeated solicitations of friends have at last
prevailed : and indeed the pul)lication is the more needful,
as several imperfect copies have been handed about, and
there has been cause to think some surreptitious edirion
might steal through the press into the hands of the public,
I have therefore, with consent of the author, now sent
tliese Letters abroad in their original form. They were
written in haste, as letters of friendship, to gratify ray curi-
osity ; but the style, as well as the narrative itself, is so
plain and easy, that corrections were thought needless. I
can only add my best wishes, that the great truths tliey
contain may prove as edifying as the facts are striking and
(jntertaining.
T, HAWEIS.
Jlr/whckle, Auff. 1764,
PKIHCETOIT
INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS.
LETTER I.
Reverend and Dear Sir,
\ IVIAKE no doubt but you have at times had pleasing
reflections upon that promise made to the Israelites,
Deut. viii. 2. They were then in the wilderness,
surrounded with difficulties, whicli were greatly ag-
gravated by their own distrust and perverseness : they
had experienced a variety of dispensations, the design
of which they could not as yet understand ; they fre-
quently lost sight of God's gracious purposes in their
favour, and were much discouraged by reason of the
way. To compose and animate their minds, Moses here
suggests to them, that there was a future happy time
drawing near, when their journey and warfare should
be finished; that they should soon be put in possession
of the promised land, and have rest from all their fears
and troubles : and then it would give them pleasure to
look back upon what they now found so uneasy to
bear : — " Thou shalt remember all the way by which
" the Lord thy God led thee through this wilderness."
But the importance and comfort of these words is
Still greater, if we consider them in a spiritual sense,
as addressed to all who are passing through the wil-
derness of this world to a heavenly Canaan ; who by
faith in the promises and power of God, are seeking
an eternal rest in that kingdom which cannot be sha-
6 Ititroductory Observations. Let. 1.
ken. The hope of that glorious inheritance inspires us
M ith some degree of courage and zeal to press forward
to where Jesus has already entered as our fore-runner;
and when our eye is fixed upon him, we are more
than conquerors over all that would withstand our
progress. But we have not yet attained ; we still feel
the infirmities of a fallen nature ; through the remains
of ignorance and unbelief, we often mistake the Lord's
dealings with us, and are ready to complain, when, if
Ave knew all, we should rather rejoice. But to us like-
wise there is a time coming, when our warfare shall be
accomplished, our views enlarged, and our light in-
creased : then with what transports of adoration and
love shall we look back upon the way by which the
Lord led us ! We shall then see and acknowledge,
that mercy and goodness directed every step ; we shall
see, that what our ignorance once called adversities
and evils, were in reality blessings, which we could not
have done well without; that nothing befel us without
a cause ; that no trouble came upon us sooner, or
pressed us more heavily, or continued longer, than our
case required ; in a word, that our many afflictions
were each in their place among the means employed
by divine grace and wisdom, to bring us to the pos-
session of that exceeding and eternal weight of glory
which the Lord has prepared for his people. And,
even in this imperfect state, though we arc seldom
able to judge aright of our present circumstances, yet
if we look upon the years of our past life, and com-
pare the dispensations we have been brought through,
with the frame of our minds under each successive
period ; if we consider how wonderfully one thing has
been connected with another, so that what we now
number amongst our greatest advantages, perhaps,
Let. 1. IrUroductorij Observations. 7
took their first rise from incidents which we thou<^ht
hardly wortli our notice ; and that we have sometimes
escaped the greatest dangers that threatened us, not by
any wisdom or foresight of our own, but by the in-
tervention of circumstances which we neither desired
nor thought of: — I say, when we compare and consi-
der these things by the light afforded us in the holy
Scripture, we may collect indisputable proof, from the
narrow circle of our own concerns, that the wise and
good providence of God watches over his people from
the earliest moment of their life, over-rules and guards
them through all their wanderings in a state of igno-
rance, leads them in a way that they know not, till at
length his providence and grace concur in those events
and impressions which bring them to the knowledge of
him and themselves.
I am persuaded, that every believer will, upon due
reflection, see enough in his own case to confirm this
remark ; but not all in the same degree. The outward
circumstances of many have been uniform; they have
known but little variety in life ; and with respect to
their inward change, it has been effected in a secret
way, unnoticed by others, and almost unperceived by
themselves. — The Lord has spoken to them, not in
thunder and tempest, but with a still small voice he
has drawn them gradually to himself: so that, though
they have a happy assurance of the thing, that they
know and love him, and are passed from death unto
life ; yet of the precise time and manner, they can give
little account. Others he seems to select, in order to
show the exceeding riches of his grace, and the great
ness of his mighty power : he sutlers the natural rtbel-
lion and wickedness of their hearts to have full scope ;
while sinners of less note are cut oil" with little warninir.
8 hitrodiiclory Obscrcatiom. Let. I.
these are spared, though sinning with a high hand, and
as it were studying their own destruction. At length,
when all that knew them are perhaps expecting to hear
that they are made signal instances of divine vengeance,
the Lord, (whose thoughts are high above ours, as the
heavens are higher than the earth,) is pleased to pluck
them as brands out of the fire, and to make them mo-
numents of his mercy, for the encouragement of others :
they are beyond expectation, convinced, pardoned,
and changed. A case of this sort indicates a divine
power no less than the creation of a world : it is evi-
dently the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in the
eyes of all those who are not blinded by prejudice and
unbelief
Such was the persecuting Saul : his heart was full of
enmity against Jesus of Nazareth, and therefore he
persecuted and made havoc of his disciples. He had
been a terror to the church of Jerusalem, and was
going to Damascus with the same views. — He was yet
breathing out threatening? and slaughter ac^ainst all that
loved the Lord Jesus. — He thought little of the mis-
chief he had hitherto done. — He w as engaged for the
suppression of the whole sect ; and hurrying from
house to house, from place to place, he carried me-
naces in his look, and repeated threatenings with
every breath. Such was his spirit and temper, when
the Lord Jesus, whom he hated and opposed, checked
him in the height of his rage, called this bitter perse-
cutor to the honour of an apostle, and inspired him
with great zeal and earnestness, to preach that faith
which he so lately destroyed.
Nor are v^g without remarkable displays of the
same sovereign efiicacious grace in our own times.
1 may p.v.ticularly mention the instance of the
}aet. i. Introductory Observations. ^
late colonel Gardener. If any real satisfaction could
be found in a sinful course, he would have met with
it; for he pursued the experiment with all possible ad-
vantages.— He was habituated to evil ; and many un-
common, almost miraculous deliverances, made no im-
pression upon him. Yet he likewise was made willing
in the day of God's power : and the bright example of
his life, illustrated and diffused by the account of him
published since his death, has afforded an occasion
of much praise to God, and much comfort to his
people.
After the mention of such names, can you permit
me, Sir, to add jni/ own ? If I do, it must be with a
very humblincp distinction. These once eminent sinners
proved eminent Christians : much had been forgiven
them; they loved much. St. Paul could say, "The
" grace bestowed upon me was not in vain ; for I la-
" boured more abundantly than they all." Colonel
Gardener likcAvise was as a city set upon a hill, a burn-
ing and a shining light : the manner of his conversion
was hardly more singular, than the whole course of his
conversation from that time to his death. Here, alas !
the parpJlel greatly fails. It has not been thus with me.
— I must take deserved shame to myself, that I have
made very unsuitable returns for what I have received.
But if the question is only concerning the patience and
long-suffering of God, the wonderful interposition of his
providence in favour of an.unworthy sinner, the power
of his grace in softening the hardest heart, and the
riches of his mercy in pardoning the most enormous an'd
aggravated transgressions ; in these respects I know
no case more extraordinary than my own. And indeed
most persons to whom I have related my story, have
thought it worthy of being preserved.
Vol. I. C
10 InlrOihictorji Obscrvulions. Lef. 1,
I never gave any succinct account, in writinjr, of the
Lord's dealing with me, till very lately : for I was de-
terred, on the one hand, by the f^reat difiiculty of writ-
ing properly when Self' is concerned ; on the other, by
the ill use which persons of corrupt and perverse minds
are often known to make of such instances. The Psal-
mist reminds us, that a reserve in these things is proper,
when he says, " Come and hear, all ye that fear God,
" and I will declare what he hath done for my soul ;"'
and our Lord cautions us not to " cast pearls before
" swine," The pearls of a Christian are, perhaps, his
choice experiences of the Lord's power and love in the
concerns of his soul ; and these should not be, at all ad-
Ventures, made public, lest we give occasion to earthly
and grovelling souls to profane what they cannot under-
stand. These were the chief reasons of my backward-
ness ; but a few weeks since I yielded to the judgment
and request of a much respected fiiend, and sent him
a relation at large, in a series of eight letters. The
event has been what I little ex})ected : I wrote to one
person ; but my letters have fallen into many hands :
amongst others, I find they have reached your notice;
and, instead of blaming me for being too tedious, and
circumstantial, which was the fault I feared I had
committed, you are pleased to desire a still more dis-
tinct detail. As you and others of my iriends appre-
hend my compliance with this request may be at-
tended with some good effect, may promote the j>leas-
ing work of praise to our adorable Redeemer, or con-
firm the faith of some or otlier of his peo[)le, I am
willing to obey : I give up my ov. n reasonings upon the
inexpediency of so inconsitierablc a person as myself
adventuriuiv in so public a point ol view. If (iod may
be glorified on my behalf, and his cliiidren in any
Let. 1. Introductory (^hscrvaiiotis. 11
measure comforted or instructed by what I have to de-
clare of liis goodness, I shall be satisfied ; and am con-
tent to leave all other possible consequences of this un-
dcrtakiniT in his hands who docs all things well.
I must again have recourse to my memory, as I
retained no copies of the letters you saw. So far as
I can recollect what I then wrote, I will relate ; but
shall not affect a needless variety of phrase and man-
ner, merely because those have been already perused
by many. I may, perhaps, in some places, when re-
peating the same facts, express myself in nearly the
*;ame words ; yet I propose, according to your desire,
to make this relation more explicit and particular than
the former ; especially towards the close, which I
wound up hastily, lest my friend should be wearied.
I hope you will likewise excuse me, if I do not strict-
ly confine myself to narration, but now and then inter-
sperse such reflections as may offer while I am writing ;
and though you have signified your intentions of com-
municating what I send you to others, I must not on
this account afl'ect a conciseness and correctness, avIjIcIi
is not my natural talent, lest the whole should appear
dry and constrained. 1 shall, therefore, if possible,
think onU" of you, and Avrite with that confidence and
freedom which your friendship and candour deserve.
This sheet may stand as a preface ; and I purpose, as
far as I can, to intermit many other engagements, until
I have completed the task you have assigned me. In
the mean time, I entreat the assistance of your prayers,
that in this, and all my poor attempts, I may riave a
single eye to his glory, v.ho vvas pleased to call me
out of horrid darkness into the marvellous light of his
gospel.
JcuL 12, 1763. T am, .S:c.
13 Occune7ices in Early Life. Let. 2.
r.ETTER II>
Reverend Sir,
1 CAN sometimes feel a pleasure in repeating the grate-
ful ackno^^ ledgment of David, " O Lord, I am thy
" servant, the son of thine handmaid ; thou hast loosed
" my bands." The tender mercies of God towards
vnc were manifested in the fn'st moment of my life.
I was born as it were in his house, and dedicated to
him in my infancy. My mother, (as I have heard
from many,) was a })ious experienced Christian : she
was a Dissenter, in communion with the late Dr. Jen-
nings. I was her only child ; and as she was of a
weak constitution, and a retired temper, almost her
"whole employment was the care of my education. I
have some faint remembrance of her care and instruc-
tions. At a time when I could not be more than three
years of age, she herself taught me English ; and with
so much success, (as I had something of a forward
turn,) that when I was four years old, I could read
Avith propriety in any common book that oiiered. She
stored my memory, which was then very retentive,
with many valuable pieces, chapters, and portions of
Scripture, catechisms, hymns, and poems. My temper
at that time seemed quite suitable to her wishes : I
had httle inclination to the noisy sports of children, but
was best pleased when in her compan}^, and always as
wiiliuis' to learn as she was to teach me. How far tli^
best education nray fall short of reaching the heart,
will strongly appear in the sequel of my history : yet I
think, for tfie encouragement of yjious parents to go on
in the good way, of doing their part faithfully to for^n
Let. 2. Occurrences in Earhj TJfe. Vo
their children's minds, I may properly propose myself
as an instance. Though in process of time I sinned
a\vay all the advantages of these early impressions, yet
they were for a great while a restraint upon me ; they
returned again and again, and it was very long before
1 could wholly shake them off; and when the Lord at
length opened my eyes, I found a great benefit from
the recollection of them. Further, my dear mother,
besides the pains she took with me, often commended
me with many prayers and tears to God ; and I doubt
not but I reap the fruits of these prayers to this hour.
My, mother observed my early progress with pecu-
liar pleasure, and intended from the first to bring me
up with a view to the ministry, if the Lord should so
incline my heart. In my sixth year I began to learn
Latin ; but before I had time to know much about it,
the intended plan of my education was broke short. —
The Lord's designs were far beyond the views of an
earthly parent : he was pleased to reserve me for an
unusual proof of his patience, providence, and grace >
and therefore over-ruled the purpose of my friends, by
depriving me of this excellent parent when I was some-
thing under seven years old. I was born the C^4tli
July 1725, and she died the 1 1th of that month 1732.
iVIy father was then at sea, (he was a commander in
the ]\f editerranean trade at that time :) he came home
the following year; and soon after married again.
Thus I passed into different hands. I was well treated
in all other respects ; but the loss of my mother's in-
structions was not repaired. I was now permitted to
mingle with careless and profane children, and sooa
began to learn their ways. Soon after my father's
marriage I was sent to a boarding-school in Essex,
where the imprudent severity of the master almost
14i Ocairrenas in Early Life. Let. 2.
broke my spirit, and relish for books. With him I
forgot the first principles and rules of arithmetic, which
iny mother had taught me years before. 1 staid thrre
two years : in the last of the two a new u:^her coming,
who observed and suited my temper, I took to the
Latin with great eagerness ; so that before I \\ as ten
years old, 1 reached rmd maintained the first post in
the second class, which in that school read Tully and
Virgil. I believe I was pushed forward too fast, and
therefore not bt^ing grounded, I soon lost all I had
learned, (for I left school in my tenth year ;) and when
I long afterwards undertook tlie Latin language fr;-m
books, I think I had little if any advantage from what
I had learned before.
My father's second marriage was from a family in
Essex ; and when I was eleven years old, he took me
with him to sea. He was a man of remarkable good
sense, and great knowledge of the world ; he took
great care of my morals, but could not supply my mo-
ther's part Having been educated himself in Spain,
he always observed an air of distance and severity in
his carriage, which overawed and discouraged my spirit.
I was always in fear when before him, and therefore he
had the less influence. From that time to the year
] 742 I made several voyages ; but with considerable
intervals between ; which were chiefly spent in the
country, excepting a few months in my fifteenth year,
"when I was placed upon a very advantageous prospect
at Aiicant in Spain. But my unsettled behaviour, and
impatience of restraint, rendered that design abortive.
In this period, my temper and conduct were ex-
ceedingly various. At school, or soon alter, I had
little concern about religion, and easily received very
ill impressions. But I was often disturbed with con-
Lei. 2. Occurrences i?i Early Life. 15
victions, I was fond of reading from a child ; among
other books, Bennefs Christian Oratory often came
in my Avay : and though I understood but little of it,
the course of life therein recommended appeared very
desirable; and I Avas inclined to attempt it. I began
to pray, to read the Scripture, and keep a sort of diary.
I was presently religious in my oAvn eyes ; but, alas !
this seeming goodness had no solid foundation, but
passed awav like a morninn;-cloud, or the early dew.
I was soon weary, gradually gave it up, and became
worse than before. Instead of prayer, I learned to
curse and blaspheme, and was exceedingly wicked
when from under my parent's view. All this was be-
fore I was twelve years old. About that time I had
a dangerous fall from a horse : I was thrown, I be-
lieve, within a few inches of a hedge-row newly cut
down. I got no hurt : but could not avoid takinfj no-
tice of a gracious providence in my deliverance ; for
had I fell upon the stakes, I had inevitably been killed.
i\Iy conscience suggested to me the dreadful conse-
quences, if in such a state I had been summoned to
appear before God. I presently broke off from my
profane practices, and appeared quite altered, liut it
was not long before I declined again. These struggles
between sin and conscience were often repeated ; but
the consequence was, that every relapse sunk me
still into greater depths of wickedness. I was once
roused by the loss of an intimate campanion. We had
agreed to go on board a man of war, (I think it was
on a Sunday ;) but I providentially came too late ;
the boat was overset, and he and several others were
drowned. I was invited to the funeral of my play-fel-
low, and was exceedingly affected, to think that by a
delay of a few minutes, (which had much displeased
Jo Occurrences in Early Life. Let. ^.
and angered me till I saw the event,) my life had been
preserved. HoAvever, this likewise was soon forgot.
At another time, the perusal of the Family-List nictor
put me upon a partial and transient reformation. In
brief, though I cannot distinctly relate particulars, I
think I took up and laid aside a religious profession
three or four different times before I was sixteen years
of age : but all this while my heart was insincere. I
often saw a necessity of religion as a means of escapino-
hell ; but I loved sin, and was unwilling to forsake it.
Instances of this, I can remember, were frequent in the
midst of all my forms : I was so strangely blind and
stupid, that sometimes when I have been determined
upon things which I knew were sinful, and contrary to
my duty, I could not go on quietly till I had first dis-
patched my ordinary task of prayer, in which I have
grudged every moment of my time ; and when this was
finished, my conscience was in some measure pacified,
and I could rush into folly with little remorse.
My last reform was the most remarkable both for
degree and continuance. Of this period, at least of
some part of it, I may say in the apostle's words,
'' After the strictest sect of our religion, I lived a
•' Pharisee." I did every thing that might be ex-
pected from a person entirely ignorant of God's righte-
ousness, and desirous to establish his own. I spent
the greatest part of every day in reading the Scriptures,
meditation, and prayer. I fasted often ; I even ab-
stained from all animal food for three months ; I would
hardly answer a question, for fear of speaking an idle
word. I seemed to bemoan my former miscarriages
t'ery earnestly, sometimes with tears. In short, I be-
came an ascetic, and endeavoured, so far as my situa-
tion vv'ould permit, to tenounce society, that I might
Let. 2. Occurrence!; in Earhi Life. 17
avoid temptation. I continued in this serious mood,
(I cannot give it a liigher title,) for more than two
years, without any considerable breaking off: but it
was a poor religion ; it left me, in many respects,
under the power of sin ; and, so far as it prevailed,
only tended to make me gloomy, stupid, unsociable,
and useless.
Such was the frame of my mind when I became
acquainted with lord Shaftesbury. I saw the second
volume of his Characteristics in a petty shop at Alid-
dleburg, in Holland. The title allured me to buy it,
and the style and manner gave me great pleasure in
reading, especially the second piece, which his lordship,
with great propriety, has entitled, A Rhapsody. No-
thing could be more suited to the romantic turn of my
mind, than the address of this pompous declamation.
Of the design and tendency I was not aware : I thought
the author a most religious person, and that I had only
to follow him and be happy. Thus, with fine words,
and fair speeches, my simple heart was beguiled. This
book was always in my hand : I read it till I could very
nearly repeat the Rhapsody verbatim from beginning to
end. No immediate effect followed ; but it operated
like a slow poison, and prepared the way for all that
followed.
This letter brings my history down to December
1742. I was then lately returned from a voyage ; and
my father not intending me for the sea again, was think-
ing how to settle me in the world : but I had little life
or spirit for business ; I knew but little of men and
things, I was fond of a visionary scheme of a con-
templative life, a medley of religion, philosophy, and
indolence ; and was quite averse to the thoughts of an
industrious application to business. At length a mer-
VOL. I. T) ^
r
18 Journey to Kent. Let. 3.
chant in Liverpool, an intimate friend of my father's
(to wliom, as the instrument of God's goodness, I have
since been chiefly indebted for all my earthly comforts,)
proposed to send me for some years to Jamaica, and
to charge himself with the care of my future fortune. I
consented to this ; and every thing was prepared for my
voyage. I was upon the point of setting out the fol-
lo^ving week. In the mean time my father sent me on
some business to a place a few miles beyond i\Iaidstone
in Kent ; and this little journey, which was to have
been only for three or four days, occasioned a sudden
and remarkable turn, which roused me from the ha-
bitual indolence I had contracted, and gave rise to the
series of uncommon dispensations, of which you desire
a more particular account. So true it is, that " the
" way of man is not in himself; it is not in man that
" walketh to direct his steps."
1 am affectionately,
January 13, 11 Go. Yours in the best bonds.
LETTER III.
Dear Sir,
FEW days before my intended journey into Kent,
I received an invitation to visit a family in that county.
They were distant relations, but very intimate friends
of my dear mother. She died in their house; but a cool-
ness took place upon my father's second marriage, and
I had heard nothing of them for many years. As my
road lay within half a mile of their house, 1 obtained
my father's leave to call on them. I was, however, ve-
ry indifferent about it, and sometimes thought of pass-
Let. 3. Joiirneij to Kent. 19
inn- on : Iiovvcver, I went. I was known at first sight
before I could tell my name, and met with the kind-
est reception, as the child of a dear deceased friend.
— My friends had two daughters. The eldest, (as I
understood some years afterwards,) had been often con-
sidered by her mother and mine, as a future wife for
me, from the time of her birth. I know, indeed, that
intimate friends frequently amuse themselves with such
distant prospects for their children, and that they mis-
carry much oftener than succeed. I do not say that
my mother predicted what was to happen, yet there
was something remarkable in the manner of its taking
place. All intercourse between the families had been
long broken oft^; I was going into a foreign countr}-,
and only called to pay a hasty visit ; and this I should
not have thought of, but for a message received just
at that crisis, for I had not been invited at any time
before. Thus the circumstances were precarious in
the highest degree, and the event was as extraordinary.
Almost at the first sight of this girl, (for she was then un-
der fourteen,) I was impressed widi an aftertion for her,
which never abated or lost its influence a single moment
in my heait from that hour. In degree, it actually
ecjualled all that tiie writers of romance have imagined ;
in duration, it was unalterable. I soon lost all sense of
religion, and became deaf to the remonstrances of con-
science and prudence ; but my regard for her was al-
ways the same ; and I may perhaps venture to say,
that none of the scenes of misery and wickedness I
aiterwards expciienced, ever banished her a single
hour t02;c*^hcr from mv wakinii thoui^hts, for the seven
following y( jrs.
Give nie leave, Sir, to reflect a little upon this unex-
pected incident, and to consiclcr its influence upon my
20 Journey to Kent. Let. 3.
future life, and how far it was subservient to the views
of Divine Providence concerning me : which seem to
have been twofold ; that by being given up for a while
to the consequences of my own wilfulness, and after-
wards reclaimed by a high hand, my case, so far as it
should be known, might be both a warning and an en-
couragement to others.
In the first place, hardly any thing less than this vio-
lent and commanding passion would have been sufficient
to awaken me from the dull melancholy habit I had
contracted. I was almost a misanthrope, notwith-
standing I so much admired the pictures of virtue and
benevolence as drawn by lord Shaftesbury ; but now
my reluctance to active life was overpowered at once,
and I was willing to be or to do any thing which \m%\\i
subserve the accomplishment of my wishes at some lu-
ture time.
Further, when T afterwards made shipwreck of faith,
hope, and conscience, my love to this person was the
only remaining principle which in any degree supplied
their place; and the bare possibility of seeing her
again, was the only present and obvious means of re-
straining me from the most horrid designs against my-
self and others.
But then the ill effects it brought upon me coun-
terbalanced these advantages. The interval usually
styled the time of courtship, is indeed a pleasing part
of life, where there is a mutual affection, the consent
of friends, a reasonable prospect as to settlement,
and the whole is conducted in a prudential manner,
and in subordination to the will and fear of God,
When things are thus situated, it is a blcssincr to be
susceptive of the tender passions. But vvhen these con-
comitants are wanting, what we call love is the most
Let. 3. Journey to Kent. 21
tormentincr passion in itself^ and the most destructive
in its consaiuence.s, that can be named. And they
were all wanting in my case. I durst not mention it
to her friends, or to my own, nor indeed for a consid-
erable time to herself, as I could make no proposals :
it remained as a dark fire, locked up in my own breast,
which gave me a constant uneasiness. By introducing
an idolatrous regard to a creature, it greatly weakened
my sense of religion, and made further way for the en-
trance of infidel principles ; and though it seemed to
promise great things, as an incentive to diligence and
activity in life, in reality it performed nothing. I often
formed mighty projects in my mind of wtmt I would
willingly do or suffer for the sake of her 1 loved ; yet
while I could have her company, I was incapable of
forcing myself av. ay, to improve opportunities that of-
fered. Still less could it do in regulating my manners.
It did not prevent me from enga^iini; in a long train of
excess and riot, utterly unworthy the honourable pre-
tensions I had formed. And though, through the won-
derful interposition of Divine Goodness, the maze of
my follies was at length unravelled, and my wishes
crowned in such a manner as overpaid my sufferings ;
vet I am sure I would not go through the same series
of trouble again, to possess all the treasures of both
the Indies. I have enlarged more than I intended on
this point, as perhaps these papers may be useful to
caution others against indulging an ungovernable pas-
sion, by my painful experience. How often may such
headstrong votaries be said " to sow the wind, and to
" reap the whirlwind !"
]\Iy heart being now fixed and riveted to a parti-
cular object, I considered every thing I was concerned
with in a new lisht. I concluded it would be abso-
22 Journeij to Ktml , and' Let. 3.
lutely impossible to live at such a distance as Jamaica,
for. a term of four or five years; and therefore deter-
mined, at all events, that I would not go. I could
not bear either to acquaint my father with the true rea-
son, or to invent a false one ; therefore, without taking
any notice to him why I did so, I stayed three weeks,
instead of three days, in Kent, till I thought, (as it
proved,) the opportunity would be lost, and the ships
sailed. I then returned to London. I had highly dis-
pleased my father by this disobedience ; but he was
more easily reconciled than I could have expected.
In a little time I sailed with a friend of his to Venice.
In this voyage I was exposed to the company and ill
example of the common sailors, among whom I rank-
ed. Importunity and opportunity presenting every day,
I once more began to relax from the sobriety and or-
der which I had observed, in some degree, for more
than two years. I was sometimes pierced with sharp
convictions ; but though I made a few faint etforts to
stop, I never recovered from this declension, as I had
done from several before : I did not, indeed, as yet
turn out profligate ; but I was making large strides to-
wards a total apostasy from God. The most remark-
able check and alarm I received, (and, for what I know,
the last,) was by a dream, which made a very strong,
though not an abiding impression upon my mind.
The consideration of whom I am writing to, renders
it needless for mc either to enter upon a discussion of
the nature of dreams in general, or to make an apo-
logy for recording my own. Those who acknowledge
Scripture, will allow that there have been monitor\-
and supernatural dreams, evident conununications from
Heaven, cither directing or foretelling future events :
and those who are acquainted with the history and ex-
Let. 3. Voyao-c to Venice^ A'r. 23
pericnce of the people of God, are well assured, that
such intimations have not been totally withheld in any
period down to the present times. Reason, far from
contradicting this supposition, strongly pleads for it,
where the process of reasoning is rightly understood,
and carefully pursued. So that a late eminent writer*,
^vho, I presume, is not generally charged with enthu-
siasm, undertakes to prove, that the phasnomenon of
dreaming is inexplicable at least, if not absolutely im-
possible, without taking in the agency and interven-
tion of spiritual beings, to us invisible. 1 would refer
the incredulous to him. For my own part, I can sav,
without scruple, " The dream is certain, ^nd the in- '
" terpretation thereof sure." I am sure I dreamed to
the following effect ; and I cannot doubt, from what I
have seen since, that it had a direct and easy applica-
tion to my own circumstances, to the dangers in which
I was about to plunge myself, and to the unmerited de-
liverance and mercy which God would be pleased to
afford me in the time of my distress.
Though 1 have wrote out a relation of this dream
more than once for others, it has happened that I never
reserved a copy ; but the principal incidents are so
deeply engraven on my memory, that I believe I am
not liable to any considerable variations in repeating
the account. The scene presented to my imagination
w as the harbour of Venice, where we had lately been,
I thought it was night, and my watch upon the deck ;
and that, as I was walking to and fro by myself, a per-
son came to me, (I do not remember from whence,)
and brought me a ring, with an express charge to keep
it carefully; assuring me, that while 1 preserved that
• Baxter on the vis inerti<e
24 Jouruejj to Kcni, and Let. 3.
ring, I should be happy and successful ; but if I lost
or parted with it, I must expect nothing but trouble
and misery. I accepted the present and the terms
willingly, not in the least doubting my own care to pre-
serve it, and highly satisfied to have my happiness in my
own keeping. I was engaged in these thoughts, when
a second person came to me, and observing the ring on
my finger, toak occasion to ask me some questions
concerning it. I readily told him its virtues ; and his
answer expressed a surprise at my w eakness, in ex-
pecting such effects from a ring. I think he reasoned
with me some time upon the impossibility of the thing;
and at len^h urged me, in direct tcruis, to throw it
away. At first I was shocked at the proposal ; but his
insinuations prevailed. I began to reason and doubt
myself; and at last plucked it off my finger, and drop-
ped it over the ship's side into the water : which it had
no sooner touched, than I saw, the same instant, a ter-
rible fire burst out from a range of the mountains, (a
part of the Alps.) which appeared at some distance be-
hind the city of Venice. I saw the hills as distinct as
if awake, and they were all in flames. I perceived too
late my folly ; and my tempter, with an air of insult, in-
formed me, that all the mercy God had in reserve for
me was comprised in that ring, which I had wilfully
thrown away. I understood that I must now go with
him to the burning mountains ; and that all the flames
I saw were kindled upon my account. I trembled,
and was in a great agonv; so that it was surprising I
did not then awake : but my dream continued ; and
when I thought myself upon the point of a constrained
departure, and stood self-condemned, without plea or
hope, suddenly either a third person, or the same who
brought the ring at first, came to me, (I am not certain
Let. 3. Voyage to Venice^ S^-c. 25
which,) and demanded the cause of my grief. I told
him the plain case, confessing that I had ruined myself
wilfully, and deserved no pity. He blamed my rash-
ness ; and asked, if I should be wiser supposing I had
my ring again ? I could hardly answer to this ; for I
thought it was gone beyond recall. I believe, indeed,
I had not time to answer, before I saw this unexpected
friend go down under the water, just in the spot where
I had dropped it ; and he soon returned, bringing the
ring with him. The moment he came on board, the
flames in the mountains were extinguished, and my se-
ducer left me. Then was " the prey taken from the
" hand of the mighty, and the lawful captive delivered."
My fears were at an end, and with joy and gratitude I
approached my kind deliverer to receive the ring again :
but he refused to return it, and spoke to this affect :
" If you should be intrusted with this ring again, you
" would very soon bring yourself into the same distress;
" you are not able to keep it : but I will preserve it for
*' you, and, whenever it is needful, will produce it in
'^ your behalf." — Upon this I awoke in a state of mind
not to be described : I could hardly eat or sleep, or
transact my necessary business, for two or three days.
But the impression soon wore ofi^, and in a little time
I totally forgot it; and I think it hardly occurred to my
mind again, till several years afterwards. It will ap-
pear, in the course of these papers, that a time came,
when I found myself in circumstances very nearly re-
sembling those suggested by this extraordinary dream,
when I stood helpless and hopeless upon the brink of
an awful eternity : and I doubt not but, had the eyes
of my mind been then opened, I should have seen my
grand enemy, who had seduced me wilfully to renounce
and cast away mv relisjious profession, and to involve
Vol. I. " ^ E
2G Journey to Kent, muI Let. 3.
myself in the most complicated crimes ; I say, I should
probably have seen him pleased with my agonies, and
waiting for a permission to seize and bear away my
soul to his place of torment. 1 should perhaps have
seen likewise, that Jesus, whom I had persecuted and
defied, rebuking the adversary, challenging me for his
own, as a brand plucked out of the fire, and saying,
" Deliver him from going down to the pit; I have found
" a ransom." However, though I saw not these things^
I found the benefit ; I obtained mercy. The Lord an-
swered for me in the day of my distress ; and, blessed
be his name, he who restored the ring, (or what was
signified by it,) vouchsafes to keep it. O what an un-
speakable comfort is this, that I am not in mine own
keeping ! " The Lord is my shepherd." I have been
enabled to trust my all in his hands ; and I know in
whom I have believed. Satan still desires to have me,
that he might sift me as wheat ; but my Saviour has
prayed for me, that my faith may not fail. Here is
my security and power ; a bulwark against which the
gates of hell cannot prevail. But for this, many a time
and often, (if possible,) I should have ruined myself
since my first deliverance ; nay, I should fall, and
stumble, and perish still, "after all that the Lord has
done for me, if his faithfulness wasnot engaged in my
behalf, to be my sun and shield even unto death. —
" Bless the Lord, O my soul !"
Nothing very remarkable occurred in the following
part of that voyage. I returned home December
1 743, and soon after repeated my visit to Kent, where
I protracted my stay in the same imprudent manner
I had done before ; w hich again disappointed my fa-
ther's desiLms in my favour, and almost provoked him
to disown me. Before any thing suitable offered again,
Let. 3. Voyage to Venice^ ^-c. 27
I was impressed, (owing entirely to my own thoughtless
conduct, which was all of a piece,) and put on board
a tender : it was at a critical juncture, when the French
fleets were hovering upon our coast, so that my father
was incapable to procure my release. In a few days
I was sent on board the Harwich man of war at the
Nore : I entered here upon quite a new scene of life,
and endured much hardship for about a month. My
father was then willing that I should remain in the
navy, as a war was daily expected, and procured me a
recommendation to the captain, who took me upon the
quarter-deck as a midshipman. I had now an easy
life as to externals, and might have gained respect ; but
my mind was unsettled, and my behaviour very indif-
ferent. I here met with companions who completed
the ruin of my principles ; and though I affected to talk
of virtue, and was not so outwardly abandoned as af-
terwards, yet my delight and habitual practice was
wickedness. My chief intimate was a person of ex-
ceeding good natural talents, and much observation ;
he was the greatest master of what is called the Jree-
thinhng scheme. I remember to have met with, and
knew how to insinuate his sentiments in the most
plausible way. — And his zeal was equal to his address ;
he could hardly have laboured more in the cause, if
he had expected to gain heaven by it. Allow me to
add, while I think of it, that this man, whom I ho-
noured as my master, and whose practice I adopted so
eagerly, perished in the same Avay as I expected to
have done. I have been told, that he was overtaken
in a voyage from Lisbon with a violent storm ; the vessel
and people escaped, but a great sea broke on board,
and swept him into eternity. — Thus tlie Lord spares
or punishes according to his sovereign pleasure ! — But
28 Journey to Kent, and Let. 3.
to return : I was fond of liis company; and having
myself a smattering of books, was eager enouoh to
show my reading. He soon perceived my case, that
I had not wholly broke through the restraints of con-
science, and therefore did not shock me at first with
too broad intimations of his design ; he rather, as I
thought, spoke favourably of religion : but when he had
gained my confidence, he began to speak plainer ; and
perceiving my ignorant attachment to the Characteris-
tics^ he joined issue with me upon that book, and con-
vinced me, that I had never understood it. In a
word, he so plied me with objections and arguments,
that my depraved heart was soon gained, and I entered
into his plan with all my spirit. Thus, like an unwary
sailor who quits his port just before a rising storm, I
renounced the hopes and comforts of the Gospel at the
very time when every other comfort was about to fail me.
In December 1744 the Harwich was in the Downs,
bound to the East Indies. The captain gave me liberty
to go on shore for a day; but, -without consulting pru-
dence, or regarding consequences, I took horse, and,
following the dictates of my restless passion, I went to
take a last leave of her I loved. I had little satisfaction
in the interview, as I was sensible that I was taking
pains to multiply my own troubles. The short time I
could stay passed Ukc a dream ; and on New-year's
day 1 745 I took my leave, to return to the ship. The
captain was prevailed on to excuse my absence ; but
this rash step, (especially as it was not the first liberty
of the kind I had taken,) highly displeased him, and
lost me his favour, which I never recovered.
At length we sailed from Spithead with a very large
fleet. We put into Torbay with a change of wind ;
but it returning fair again, we sailed the next day. Se-
Let 3. Voyage to VeJiice^ S>c. 29
veral of our fleet were lost in attempting to leave that
place; but the following night the whole fleet was greatly
endangered upon the coast of Cornwall, by a storm
from the southward. The darkness of the night, and
the number of the vessels, occasioned much confusion
and damage. Our ship, though several times in immi-
nent danger of being run down by other vessels, es-
caped unhurt; but many suffered much, particularly
the Admiral. This occasioned our putting back to
Plymouth.
While we lay at Plymouth, I heard that my father,
who had interest in some of the ships lately lost, was
come down to Tor bay. He had a connexion at that
time with the African company. I thought, if I could
get to him, he might easily inti-oduce me into that ser*
vice, which would be better than pursuing a long un-
certain voyage to the East Indies. It was a maxim
with me in those unhappy days, Never to deliberate ;
the thought hardly occurred to me, but I was resolved
to leave the ship at all events : I did so, and in the
wrongest manner possible. I was sent one day in the
boat, to take care that none of the people deserted ;
but I betrayed my trust, and went oflf myself I knew
not what road to take, and durst not ask, for fear of
being suspected ; yet having some general idea of the
country, I guessed right; and when I had travelled
some miles, I found, upon inquiry, that I was on the
road to Dartmouth. All went smoothly that day, and
part of the next; I walked apace; and expected to
have been with my father in about two hours, when
I was met by a small party of soldiers. I could not
avoid or deceive them. They brought me back to
Plymouth ; I walked through the streets guarded like
a felon — My heart was full of indignation, shame, and
30 Journey to Kent, Sec. Let. S.
fear. 1 was confined two days in the guards house,
then sent on board my ship, kept a while in irons,
then pu|)licly stripped and wiiipped; after which I was
degraded from my office, and all my former companions
forbidden to show me the least favour, or even to speak
to me. As midshipman I had been entitled to some
command, which, (being sufficiently haughty and vain,)
I had not been backward to exert. 1 was now in
my turn brought down to a level with the lowest, and
exposed to the insults of all.
And as my present situation was uncomfortable, my
future prospects were still worse ; the evils I suffered
were likely to grow heavier every day. While my
catastrophe was recent, the officers, and my quondam
brethren, were something disposed to screen me from
ill usage ; but during the little time I remained with
them afterwards, I found them cool very fast in their
endeavours to protect me. Indeed they could not avoid
it, without running a great risk of sharing with me ;
for the captain, though in general a humane man, who
behaved very well to the ship's company, was almost im-
placable in his resentment when he had been greatly
offended, and took several occasions to show himself
so to me ; and the voyage was expected to be, (as it
proved,) for five years. Yet I think nothing I either
felt or feared distressed me so much as to see myself
thus forcibly torn away from the object of my affec-
tions, under a great improbability of seeing her again,
and a much greater of returning in such a manner as
would give me hopes of seeing her mine. Thus I was
as miserable on all hands as could well be imagined.
My breast was filled with the most excruciating pas-
sions, eager desire, bitter rage, and black despair. —
Every hour exposed me to some new insult and hard-
Let. 4. Voyage io Madeira, Si-c. SI
ship, with no hope of relief or mitigation : no friend to
take my part, or to listen to my complaint. Whether
I looked inward or outward, I could perceive nothing
but darkness and misery. I think no case, except that
of a conscience wounded by the wrath of God, could
be more dreadful than mine : I cannot express with
what wishfulness and regret I cast my last looks upon
the English shore ; I kept my eyes fixed upon it, till
the ship's distance increasing, it insensibly disappeared ;
and when I could see it no longer, I was tempted to
throw myself into the sea, which, (according to the
wicked system I had adopted,) would put a period to
all my sorrows at once. But the secret hand of God
restrained me. Help me to praise him, dear Sir, for
his wonderful goodness to the most unworthy of all
his creatures.
January 15, 1763. I am, &c.
LETTER IV.
Dear Sir,
Ti
HOUGH I desired your instructions as to the man-
ner and extent of these memoirs, I began to write be-
fore I received them, and had almost finished the pre-
ceding sheet when your favour of the 1 1 th came to
hand. I shall find another occasion to acknowledge
my sense of your kind expressions of friendship, which
I pray the Lord I may never give you cause to repent
or withdraw : at present I shall confine myself to what
more particularly relates to the task assigned me. I
shall obey you. Sir, in taking notice of the little inci-
dents you recall to my memory, and of others of the
32 Foyage to Madeira, ^-c. Let. 4i.
like nature, which, without your direction, I should
have thought too trivial, and too much my own to de-
serve mentioning. When I began the eight letters, I
intended to say no more of myself than might be ne-
cessary to illustrate the wonders of divine providence
and grace in the leading turns of my life ; but I ac-
count your judgment a sufficient warrant for enlarging
my plan.
Amongst other things, you desired a more explicit
account of the state and progress of my courtship, as
it is usually phrased. This was the point in which I
thought it especially became me to be very brief; but I
submit to you ; and this seems a proper place to resume
it, by telling you how it stood at the time of my leaving
England. When m) inclinations first discovered them-
selves, both parties were so young, that no one but
myself considered it in a serious view. It served for
tea-table talk amongst our friends ; and nothing further
was expected from it. But afterwards, when my pas-
sion seemed to have abiding effects, so that in an in-
terval of two years it was not at all abated, and espe-
cially as it occasioned me to act without an}? regard to
prudence or interest, or my father's designs ; and as
there was a coolness between him and the family, her
parents began to consider it as a matter of consequence ;
and when I took my last leave of them, her mother, at
the same time she expressed the most tender affection
for me, as if I had been her own child, told me thai
though she had no objections to make, upon a supposi-
tion, that at a maturer age there should be a probability
of our engaging upon a prudent prospect ; yet as things
then stood, she thought herself obliged to interfere ;
and therefore desired I would no more tliink of return-
ing to their house, unless her daughter was from home,
Let. 4. Voijage to Maderia, ^-c. 8S
till such time as I coqld either prevail with myself en-
tirely to give up my pretensions, or could assure her
that I had my father's e^cpress consent to go on. IMuch
depended on Mrs. N*****'s part in this affair ; it was
something difficult ; but though she was young, gay,
and quite unpractised in such matters, she was directed
to a happy medium. A positive encouragement, or an
absolute refusal, would have been attended with equal,
though different disadvantages. But without much
studying about it, I found her always upon her guard :
she had penetration to see her absolute power over me,
and prudence to make a proper use of it ; she would
neither understand my hints, nor give me room to
come to a direct explanation. She has said since,
that from the first discovery of my regard, and long be-
fore the thought was agreeable to her, she had olten an
unaccountable impression upon her mind, that sooner or
later she should be mine. Upon these terms we parted.
I now return to my voyage. — During our passage
to Madeira, I was a prey to the most gloomy thoughts.
Though I had well deserved all I met with, and the
captain might have been justified if he had carried his
resentment still further ; yet my pride at that time sug-
gested that I had been grossly injured : and this so far
wrought upon my wicked heart, that I actually formed
designs against his life ; and this was one reason that
made me willing to prolong my own. I was some-
times divided between the two, not thinking it practica-
ble to effect both. The Lord had now to appearance
given me up to judicial hardness ; I was capable of any
thing. I had not the least fear of God before my eyes,
nor, (so far as I remember,) the least sensibility of con-
science. I was possessed of so strong a spirit of delu-
sion, that I believed my own lie, and was firmly per-
VoL. I. F
k
31 Entry on board a G'uincanuin, and Let. 4.
suaded, that after death I should cease to be. — Yet
the Lord preserved me ! — Some intervals of sober re-
flection would at times take plate : when I have chosen
death rather than life, a ray of hope would come in,
(though there was little probability for such a hope,)
that I should yet see better days ; that I might again
return to England, and have my wishes crowned, if I
did not wilfully throw myself away. In a word, my
love to Mrs. N***** was now the only restraint I had
left. Though I neither feared God, nor regarded men,
I could not bear that she should think meanly of mc
when I was dead. As in the outw ard concerns of life,
the weakest means are often employed by Divine Pro-
vidence to produce great effects, beyond their common
influence, (as when a disease, lor instance, has been
removed by a fright,) so I found it then : this single
thought, which had not restrained me from a thousand
smaller evils, proved my only and effectual barrier
against the greatest and most fatal tem})tations. How
long I could have supported this conflict, or what, hu-
manly speaking, would have been the consequence ol
my continuing in that situation, I cannot say ; but the
Lord, whom 1 little thought of, knew my danger, and
was providing for my deliverance.
Two things I had determined w hen at Plymouth ,
that I would 7wt go to India, and that I would go to
Guinea ; and such indeed was the Lord's \^iU concern-
ing me ; but they were to be accomplished in his w ay,
not in my own. We had been now at Madeira some
time ; the business of the fleet was completed, and wc
were to sail the following day. On that memorable
morning J was late in bed, and had slept longer, but
that one of the njidshipmen, (an old coisipanion,) came
down, and, between jest and earnest, bid me rise ; and
4BI
Let. 4, Arrival in Africa. 35
as I did not immediately comply he cut down the ham-
mock, or bed, in which I lay ; which forced me to dress
m3'self. I was very angry, but durst not resent it. I
was little aware how much his caprice affected me ; and
that this person, w ho had no design in what he did, was
the messenger of God's providence. I said little, but
went upon deck ; where I that moment saw a man put-
ting his clothes into a boat, who told me he was going
to leave us. Upon inquiring, I was informed, that two
men, from the Guinea ship, which lay near us, had en-
tered on board the Harwich, and that the commodore,
(the present Sir George Pocock,) had ordered the cap-
tain to send two others in their room. !My heart in-
stantly burned like fire. 1 begged the boat might be
detained a few minutes ; I ran to the lieutenants, and
entreated them to intercede with the captain that I
might be dismissed. Upon this occasion, though I had
been formerly upon ill terms with these officers, and
had disobliged them all in their turns ; yet they had
pitied my case, and were ready to serve me now. The
captain, who, when we were at Plymouth, had refused
to exchange me, though at the request of Admiral Med-
ley, was now easily prevailed on. I believe, in little
more than half an hour from my being asleep in my
bed, I saw myself discharged, and safe on board an-
other ship. This was one of the many critical turns of
life, in v> hich the Lord was pleased to display his pro-
vidence and care, by causing many unexpected circum-
stances to concur in almost an instant of time. These
sudden opportunities were several times repeated ; each
of them broudit me into an entire new scene of action,
and they were usually delayed to almost the last mo-
ment in which they could have taken place.
The ship I went on board was bound to Sierra Ixone.
36 Entni on hoard a Gnineaman^ and Let. 4-.
and the adjacent parts of what is called the JVlndivard
Coast oj Ajrica. The commander, I found, was ac-
quainted with my father ; he received me very kindly,
and made fair professions of assistance ; and I believe
he would have been my friend : but without making
the least advantage of former mistakes and troubles, I
pursued the same course ; nay, if possible, I acted
much worse. On board the Harwich, though my prin-
ciples were totally corrupted, yet, as upon my first
going there I was in some degree staid anti serious, the
remembrance of this made nie ashamed of breaking
out in that notorious manner I could otherwise have
indulged. But now, enterintj amongst strangers, I
could appear without disguise ; and I well remember,
that while I was passing from the one ship to the other,
this was one reason why I rejoiced in the exchange,
and one reiiection I made upon the occasion, viz. " That
" I now might be as abandoned as I pleased, without
"any control;" and from this time I was exceedingly
vile indeed, little if any thing short of that animated
description of an almost irrecoverable state, which we
have in 2 Pet. ii. 14. I not only sinned Avith a high
hand myself, but made it my study to tempt and se-
duce others upon every occasion ; nay, I eagerly sought
occasion, sometimes to my own hazard and hurt. One
natural consequence of this carriage was, a loss of the
favour of my new captain ; not that he was at all reli-
gious, or disliked my wickedness any further than it af-
fected his interest, but I became careless and disobe-
dient: I did not please him, because I did not intend
it ; and as he was a man of an odd temper likewise, we
the more easilv disagreed. Jjesides, I had a little of
that unlucky wit, wiiieh can do little more than multi-
ply troubles and enemies to its possessor; and, upon
^
Let. 4. Arrival in Africa. 37
some imagined affront, I made a song, in -which I ri-
diculed his ship, his designs, and his person, and soon
taught it to the whole ship's company. Such was the
ungrateful return I made for his ofl'ers of friendship
and protection. I had mentioned no names ; but the
allusion was plain ; and he was no stranger either to
the intention or the author. -I shall say no more of
this part of my story ; let it be buried in eternal si-
lence. But let me not be silent from the praise of
that grace w hicli could pardon, that blood which could
expiate, such sins as mine : Yea, " the Ethiopian
" may change his skin, and the leopard his spots,"
since I, who was the willing slave of every evil, pos-
sessed with a legion of unclean spirits, have been
spared, and saved, and changed, to stand as a monu-
ment of his almighty power for ever.
Thus 1 went on for about six months, by which time
the ship was preparing to leave the coast. A few days
before she sailed, the captain died. I was not upOn
much better terms with his mate, who now succeeded
to the command, and had, upon some occasion, treated
me ill. I made no doubt but if I went with him to the
West-Indies, he would put me on board a man of war;
and this, from A\hat I had known already, was more
dreadful to me than death. To avoid it, 1 determined
to remain in Africa ; and amused myself, w ith many
golden dreams that here I should fmd an opportunity
of improving my fortune.
There are still upon that part of the coast a few-
white men settled, (and there were many more at the
time I was first there,) whose business it was to pur-
chase slaves, &c. in the rivers and country adjacent,
and sell them to the ships at an advanced price. One
of these, who at first landed in my indigent circum-
3?5 Hardships endured hi AjYica. Let. 5.
stances, had acquired considerable wealth : he had
lately been in England, and was returning in the vessel
I was in, of which he owned a quarter part. His ex-
ample impressed me with hopes of the same success \
and, upon condition of entering into his service, I ob-
tained my discharge. I had not the precaution to
tnake any terms, but trusted to his generosity. I re-
ceived no compensation for my time on board the ship,
but a bill upon the owners in England ; which was
never paid, for they failed before my return. The day
the vessel sailed, I landed upon the island of Benanoes,
with little more than the clothes upon my back, as if I
had escaped shipwreck.
January 17, 1763. I am, &c.
LETTER V
Dear Sir,
T
HERE seems an important instruction, and of fre-
quent use, in tiiese words of our dear Lord, " Aline
hour is not yet come." The two following years, of
which I am now to give some account, will seem as an
absolute blank in a very short life : but as the Lord's
hour of grace was not yet come, I was to have still
deeper experience of the dreadful state of tlie heart of
man when left to itself I have seen frequent cause
since to admire the mercy of the Lord, in banishing me
to those distant parts, and almost excluding me from
human society, at a time when 1 was big with mischief,
and like one infected with the pestilence, was capable of
spreading a taint wherever I went. Had my affairs
taken a different turn ; had 1 succeeded in my designs,.
Let. 5. Hardships ciidurcd in Africa. 39
and remained in England, *iny sad story would proba-
bly have been worse. Worse in myself, indeed, I
could have hardly been ; but my wickedness would
have had greater scope ; I might have been very hurt-
ful to others, and multiplied irreparable evils. But the
Lord wisely placed me where I could do little harm.
The few I had to converse with, were too much like
myself, and I was soon brought into such abject cir-
cumstances, that I was too low to have any influence.
I was rather shunned and despised than imitated ; there
being few, even of the negroes themselves, (during the
first year of my residence among them,) but thought
themselves too good to speak to me. I was as yet an
-'' outcast lying in my blood," (Ezek. xvi.) and, to all
appearance, exposed to perish. But the Lord be-
held me with mercy, — he did not strike me to hell, as
I justly deserved ; "he passed by me when I was m
'-' my blood, and said unto me, Live." But the ap-
pointed time for the manifestation of his love, to cover
all my iniquities with the robe of his righteousness, and
to admit me to the privileges of his children, was not
till long afterwards : yet even now he bid me live ; and
I can only ascribe it to his secret upholding power,
that what I suffered in a part of this interval, did not
bereave me either of my lite or senses ; yet, as by these
sufferings the force of my evil example and inclinations
was lessened, I have reason to account them amongst
my mercies.
It may not, perhaps, be amiss to digress for a few^
lines, and give you a very brief sketch of the geography
of the circuit 1 was now confined to ; especially as I
may have frequent occasion to refer to places I shall
now mention : for my trade afteruards, when the Lord
jjavc me to see better davs, was chieflv to the same
4Q Hardships endured in Africa. Let. 5.
places, and with the same persons, ^vhere and by whom
I had been considered as upon a level with their mean-
est slaves. From Cape de Verd, the most western
point of Africa, to Cape ]\f ount, the whole coast is full
of rivers : the principle are, Gambio, Rio Grande,
Sierra Leone, and Sherbro. Of the former, as it is well
known, and I was never there, I need say nothing.
The Rio Grande, (like the Nile,) divides into many
branches near the sea. On the most northerly, called
Cacheo, the Portuguese have a settlement. The most
southern branch, known by the name of Rio Niuia, is,.
or then was, the usual boundary of the white men's
trade northuard. Sierra Leone is a mountainous pen-
insula, uninhabited, and, I believe, inaccessible, upon
account of the thick woods, excepting those parts which
lie near the water. The river is large and navigable.
From hence, about twelve leagues to the south east,
are three contiguous islands, called the Be?iff noes, about
twenty miles in circuit ; this was about the centre of the
white men's residence. Seven leagues further, the same
way, lie the Flantanes, three small islands, two miles
distant from the continent at the point, which form one
side of the Sherbro. This river is more properly a
sound, running within a long island, and receiving the
confluence of several large rivers, '' rivers luikuoxvu to
song,'' but far more deeply engraven in my remem-
brance than the Po or Tyber. The southernmost of
these has a very peculiar course, almost parallel to the
coast ; so that, in tracing it a great many leagues up-
wards, it will seldom lead one above three miles, and
sometimes not more than half a mile from the sea-
shore. Indeed I know not but tliat all these rivers
may have communications with each other, and with
the sea in many places, which I have not remarked.
I
Let. -5. Hardships endured hi Jfrica. 41
If yon cast your eyes upon a large map of Africa while
you are reading this, you will have a general idea of
the country I was in ; for though the maps are very in-
correct, most of the places I have mentioned are in-
serted, and in the same order as I have named them.
My new master had formerly resided near Cape
Mount, but now he settled at the Plantanes, upon the
largest of the three islands. It is a low sandy island,
about two miles in circumference, and almost covered
with palm-trees. We immediately began to build a
house, and to enter upon trade. I had now some de-
sire to retrieve my lost time, and to exert diligence in
what was before me ; and he was a man with whom I
might have lived tolerably well, if he had not been
soon influenced against me : but he was much under
the direction of a black woman, who lived witli him as
a wife. She was a person of some consequence in her
own country, and he owed his first rise to her interest.
This woman, (I know not for what reason,) was strange-
ly prejudiced against me from the first ; and what made
it still worse for me, was a severe fit of illness, which
attacked me very soon, before I had opportunity to
show what I could or would do in his service. I was
sick when he sailed in a shallop to Rio Nuna, and he
left me in her hands. At first I was taken some care
of; but as I did not recover very soon, she grew
weary, and entirely neglected me. I had sometimes
not a little difficulty to procure a draught of cold water
when burning with a fever. My bed was a mat spread
upon a board or chest, and a log of wood my pillow.
When my fever left me, and my appetite returned, I
would gladly have eaten, but there was no one gave
unto me. She lived in plenty herself, but hardly al-
lowed me sufficient to sustain life, except now and
Vol. I. G
4'^ Hardships cndand in AJrica. Let. 5.
then, Mhen, in the liighest good humour, she would
send me victuals in her own plate after she had dined ;
and this, (so greatly was my pride'humbled,) I received
M ith thanks and eagerness^ as the most needy beggar
does an alms. Once, I well remember, I was called to
receive this bounty from her own hand ; but being ex-
ceedingly weak and feeble, I dropped the plate. Those
who live in plenty can hardly conceive how this loss
touched me ; but she had the cruelty to laugh at my
disappointment; and though the tal)le Avas covered M'ith
dishes, (for she lived much in the European manner,)
she refused to give me any more. My distress has
been at times so great, as to com})el me to go by night,
and pull up roots in the plantation, (though at the risk
of being punished as a thief,) which I have eaten raw
upon the spot, for fear of discovery. The roots I
speak of are very Avholesome food, when boiled or roast-
ed ; but as unfit to be eaten raw in any quantity as a
potatoe. The consequence of this diet, which, after the
first experiment, I always expected, and seldom missed,
was the same as if I had taken tartar emetic ; so that
1 nave often returned as empty as I went ; yet neces-
sity urged me to repeat the trial several times. I have
sometimes been relieved by strangers ; nay, even by
the slaves in the chain, who have secretly brought me
\'ictuals, (for they durst not be seen to do it,) from their
own slender })ittance. Next to pressing want, nothing
sits harder upon the mind than scomi and contempt ; and
of this likewise I had an abundant measure. When
I was very slowly recovering, this woman would some-
times pay me a visit, not to pity or relieve, but to in
suit me. She would call me worthless and indolent,
and compel me to walk ; which, when I could hardly
do, she would set her attendants to mimic my motion.
I
Let. o. Ho.rdships cmlnrcd in Africa. 4ii
to clap their hands, laugh, throw limes at me ; or, it
they chose to throw stones, (as I think m as the case
once or twice,) they were not rebuked : but, in general,
though all who depended on her favour must join in her
treatment, \-et, when she was out of sight, I v»as rather
pitied than scorned by the meanest of her slaves. At
length my master returned from his voyage. I com-
plained of ill usage ; but he could not believe me : and
as I did it in her hearing, I fared no better for it. But
in his second voyage he took me with him. We did
pretty well for a while, till a brother-trader he met in
the river persuaded him that I was unfaithful, and stole
his o;oods in the night, or when he was on shore. This
was almost the only vice I could not be justly charged
with: the only remains of a good education I could
boast of, was what is commonly called honesty ; and, as
far as he had intrusted me, I had been always true ;
and though my great distress might, in some measure,
have excused it, I never once thought of defrauding
him in the smallest matter. However, the charge was
believed, and I condemned without evidence. Fmin
that time lie like^\ ise used me very hardly : when^Hr
he left the vessel, I was locked upon deck, with a pint
of rice for my day's allo'tvance ; and, if he staid longer,
I had no relief till his return. Indeed, I believe I
should have been nearly starved, but for an opportunity
of catching fish sometimes. When fowls were killed for
his own use, 1 seldom was allowed any part but the en-
trails to bait my hooks with : and at \\ hat we call slack
xcater, that is, about the changing of the tides, when
the current was still, I used generally to fish, (for at
other times it was not practicable,) and I very often
succeeded. If I saw a fish upon my hook, my joy was
Jittie less than any other person mav have found in the
4j4 llardsJiips enduvcd in Africa. Lei. 5.
accomplishment of the scheme he had most at heart.
Such a fish, hastily broiled, or rather half burnt, with-
out sauce, salt, or bread, has afforded me a delicious
meal. If I caught none, I might, (if I could,) sleep
away my hunger till the next return of slack water, and
then try again. Nor did I suffer less from the inclemency
of the weather, and the want of clothes. The rainy
season was now advancing ; my whole suit was a shirt,
a pair of trowsers, a cotton handkerchief instead of a
cap, and a cotton cloth, about two yards long, to sup-
ply the want of upper garments : and, thus accoutred,
I have been exposed for twenty, thirty, perhaps near
forty hours together, in incessant rains, accompanied
■with strong gales of wind, without the least shelter,
when my master was on shore. I feel to this day
some faint returns of the violent pains I then con-
tracted. The excessive cold and wet I endured in
that voyage, and so soon after I had recovered from
a long sickness, quite broke my constitution, and my
spirits. The latter were soon restored ; but the effects
of the former still remain with me, as a needful me-
vimto of the service and wages of sin.
In about two months we returned ; and then the
Test of the time I remained with him was chiefly spent
at the Plantanes, under the samiC regimen as I have al-
ready mentioned. JMy haughty heart was now brought
down ; not to a wholesome repentance, not to the lan-
guage of the prodigal; this was far Irom me ; but my
spirits were sunk; I lost all resolution, and almost all re-
flection. I had lost the fierceness which fired me when
on board the Harwich, and which made me capable of
the most desperate attempts ; but I was no further
changed than a tyger tamed by hunirer; — remove the ■
occasion, and he will be as wild as ever.
Let. 6. EnlargemcJit in Jfrica. ' 4:b
One thing, though strange, is most true. Though
destitute of food and clothing, depressed to a degree
beyond common wretchedness, I could sometimes col-
lect mv mind to mathematical studies. I had bought
Borrow s Euclid at Plymouth ; it was the only volume
I brought on shore ; it was always with me, and I used
to take it to remote corners of the island by the sea-
side, and draw m.y diagrams with a long stick upon the
sand -Thus I often beguiled my sorrows, and almost
forgot my feeling ; — and thus, without any other assist-
ance, I made myself in a good measure master of the
first six books of Euclid.
January 1 7, 1 7Q^. I am, &c.
LETTER VL
Dear Sir,
T
HERE is much piety and spirit in the grateful ac-
knowledgment of Jacob, " With my staff I passed
" over this Jordan, and now I am become two bana^."
These are words which ought to affect me with a pecu-
liar emotion. I remember that, some of those mourn-
ful days to which my last letter refers, I was busied in
planting Ume or lemon trees. The plants I put in the
ground were no longer than a young gooseberry-bush :
my master and his mistress passing by my place, stopped
a while to look at me : at last, " Who knows," says he,
" who knows but by the time these trees grow up and
" bear, you may go home to England, obtain the com-
" mand of a ship, and return to reap the fruit of your
*^ labours ? We see strange things sometimes happen."
This, as he intended it, was a cuttina; sarcasm. I be-
4G Enlargement in Africa. Let. 6.
lieve he thought it full as probable that I should live to
be king of Poland. Yet it proved a prediction, and
they, (one of them at least,) lived to see me return from
England, in the capacity he had mentioned, and pluck
some of the first limes from those very trees. How
can I proceed in my relation, till I raise a monument
to the divine goodness, by comparing the circumstances
in which the Lord has since placed me, with what I was
at that time ! Had you seen me. Sir, then go so pen-
sive and solitary, in the dead of night, to wash my one
shirt upon the rocks, and afterwards, put it on wet that
it might dry upon my back w hile I slept ; had you seen
me so poor a figure, that when a ship's boat came to
the island, shame often constrained me to hide myself
in the woods from the sight of strangers ; especially
had you known that my conduct, principles, and heart,
were still darker than my outward condition ; how little
would you have imagined that one who so fully an-
swered to the ru7>;To» Kat ^uiVav":?,-* of the apostlc, was re-
served to be so peculiar an instatice of the providential
cjjK and exuberant goodness of God. There was at
tHR time but one earnest desh'e in my heart which was
not contrary and shocking both to religion and reason :
that one desire, though my vile licentious life rendered
me peculiarly unworthy of success, and though a thou-
sand difficulties seemed to render it impossible, the
Lord was pleased to gratify. But this favour, though
great, and greatlv [)rized, was a small thing, compared
to the blessings of his grace : he spared me, to give me
"' the knowledge of himself in the person of Jesus
*' Christ.'' In love to my soul, he delivered me from
the pit of corruption, and cast all my aggravated sins
• Hateful, and hating one another.
I,et. 6. Enlargement in AjYica. 4:7
behind his back. He brought my feet into the paths
of peace. This is indeed the chief article, but it is
not the whole. When he made me acceptable to
himself in the Beloved, he gave me favour in the sight of
others. He raised me new friends, protected and guid-
ed me through a long series of dangers, and crowned
every day with repeated mercies. To him 1 owe it that
I am still alive, and that I am not still living in hunger
and in thirst, and in nakedness, and the Avant of all
things : into that state I brought myself : but it was He
delivered me. He has given me an easy situation in
life, some experimental knovvledge of his gospel, a large
■acquaintance amongst his people, a friendship and cor-
respondence vvith several of his most honoured ser-
vants.— But it is as difficult to enumerate my present
advantages, as it is fully to describe the evils and mise-
ries of the preceding contrast.
I know not exactly how long things continued with
me thus, but I believe near a twelvemonth. In this
interval I wrote two or three times to my father : I
gave him an account of my condition, and desired lus
assistance ; intimating, at the same time, that I had re-
solved not to return to England unless he was pleased
to send to me. I have likevvise by me letters wrote to
]Mrs. N**** in that dismal period ; so that at the lowest
ebb, it seems I still retained a hope of seeing her again.
My father applied to his friend in Liverpool, of whom
I have spoken before ; who gave orders accordingly to
a captain of his, who was then fitting out for Gambia
and Sierra Leone.
Sometime within the year, as I have said, I obtained
my master's consent to live with another trader, who
dwelt upon the same island. Without his consent I
could not he taken ; and he was unwilling to do it
48 Enlarg^me7U in Africa. Let. 6.
sooner ; but it was then brought about. This was an
alteration much to my advantage : 1 was soon decently
• clothed, lived in plenty, was considered as a companion,
and trusted with the care of all his domestic effects,
which were to the amount of some thousand pounds.
This man had several factories, and white servants, in
dif^^erent places ; particularly one in Kittam, the river 1
spoke of, which runs so near along the sea- coast. I was
soon appointed to go there, where I had a share in the
management of business, jointly with another of iiis ser-
vants. We lived as we pleased, business flourished,
and our employer was satisfied. Here I began to be
wretch enough to think myself happy. There is a sig-
nificant phrase frequently used in those parts, That
such a white man is grown black. It does not intend
an alteration of complexion, but disposition. I have
known several, who, settling in Africa after the age of
thirty or forty, have, at that time of life, been gradually
assimilated to the tempers, customs, and ceremonies,
of the natives, so far as to prefer that country to Kng-
l^d : they have even become dupes to all the pretended
charms, necromancies, amulets, and divinations of the
blinded negroes, and put more trust in such things than
the wiser sort among the natives. A part of this spirit
of infatuation was growing upon me, (in time perhaps
I might have yielded to the whole ;) I entered into
closer engagements with the inhabitants ; and should
have lived and died a wretch amongst them, if the Lord
had not watched over me for good. Not that I had lost
those ideas which chiefly engaged my heart to England,
but despair of seeing them accomplished made me will-
ing to remain where I was. I thought I could more
easily bear the disappointment in this situation than
nearex home. But so soon as I had lixcd my connec-
Let. G. Enlargement in Africa. 49
tions and plans with these views, the Lord providentially
interposed to break them in pieces, and save me from
ruin in spite of myself.
In the mean time, the ship that had orders to bring
me home arrived at Sierra Leone. The captain made
inquiry for me there, and at the Benanoes ; but under-
standing that I vvas at a great distance in the country,
he thought no more about me. Without doubt, the
hand of God directed my being placed at Kittam just
at this time ; for as the ship came no nearer than the
Benanoes, and staid but a few days, if I had been at
the Plantanes, I could not perhaps have heard of her
till she had been sailed. The same must have certainly
been the event had I been sent to any other factory, of
which my new master had several upon different rivers.
But though the place I was at was a long way up a
river, much more than a hundred miles distance from
the Plantanes ; yet, by the peculiar situation which I
have already noticed, I was still within a mile of the
sea-coast. To make the interposition more remarka-
ble, I was at that very juncture going in quest of trade,
to a place at some distance directly from the sea ; and
should have set out a day or two before, but that we
waited for a few articles from the next ship that offered,
to complete the assortment of goods I was to take with
me. ^ye used sometimes to walk on the beach, in ex-
pectation of seeing a vessel pass by ; but this was very
precarious, as at that time the place was not at all re-
sorted to by ships for trade. Many passed in the night,
others kept at a considerable distance from the shore.
In a word, I do not know that any one had stopped
while I was there, though some had before, upon ob-
serving a signal made froin the shore. In February
1747, (I know not the exact day.) mv fellow-servant
Vol. I. H '
50 Enlargement 171 Africa. Let. 6,
walking down to the beach in the forenoon, saw a vessel
sailing past, and made a smoke in token of trade. She
was ah'eady a little beyond the place ; and as the wind
was fair, the captain was in some demur whether to
stop or not. However, had my companion been half
an hour later, she would have been gone beyond recall ;
but he soon saw her come to an anchor, and went. on
board in a canoe ; and this proved the very ship I
have spoken of One of the first questions he was
asked was concerning me; and when the captain under-
stood I was so near, he came on shore to deliver his
message. Had an invitation from home readied me
when I was sick and starving at the Plantanes, I should
have received it as life from the dead ; but now, for the
reasons already given, 1 heard it at first with indiffer-
ence. The captain, unwilling to lose me, told a story
altogether of his own framing: he gave me a very plau-
sible account how he had missed a large packet of let-
ters and papers which he should have brought with
him ; but this, he said, he was sure of, having had it
from my father's own mouth, as well as from his em-
ployer, that a person lately tlead had left me oL'400
per annum ; adding further, that if 1 was any way em-
barrassed in my circumstances, be had express orders
to redeem me, though it should cost one half of his
cargo. Every particular of this was false ; nor could
I myself believe what he said about the estate ; but as
I had some expectations from an aged relation, I
thought a part of it might be true. But I was not
long in suspense : for though my fc*^l:er's care and de-
sire to see me had too little weight w ith me, and would
have been insufficient to make me quit my retreat ; yet
the remembrance of Mrs. N *****, the hopes of seeing
tier, and the possibility that accepting this offer might
Let. 6. Enkirgement in Africa. 51
once more put me in a way of gaining her hand, pre-
vailed over all other considerations. The captain further
promised, (and in this he kept his word,) that I should
lodge in his cabin, dine at his table, and be his constant
companion, without expecting any service from me.
And thus I was suddenly freed from a captivity of
about fifteen months. I had neither a thought nor a
desire of this change one hour before it took place. I
embarked with him, and in a few hours lost sight of
Kittam.
How much is their blindness to be pitied, who can
see nothinc but chance in events of this sort ! so blind
and stupid was I at that time : I made no reflection,
I sought no direction in what had happened : like a
wave of the sea driven with the wmd, and tossed, I
was governed by present appearances, and looked no
further. But he who is eyes to the blind, was leading
me in a way that I knew not.
Now I am in some measure enlightened, I can easily
perceive, that it is in the adjustment and concurrence
of these seemingly fortuitous circumstances, that the
ruling power and wisdom of God is most evidently dis-
played in human affairs. How many such casual events
may we remark in the history of Joseph, which had
each a necessary influence on his ensuing promotion ! If
lie had not dreamed, or if he had not told his dream ;
if the ]\Iidianites had passed by a day sooner, or a day
later ; if they had sold him to any person but Potiphar;
if his mistress had been a better woman ; if Pharaoh's
officers had not displeased their lord ; or if any or all
these things had fell out in any other manner or time
than they did ; — all that followed had been prevented ;
the promises and purposes of God concernins; Israel,
their bondage, deliverance, polity, and settlement, must
32 Voyage from Cape Ixjpezfor England. Let. 7.
have failed : and as all these things tended to and cen-
tred in Christ, the promised Saviour, the desire of all
nations would not have appeared. Mankind had been
still in their sins, without hope, and the counsels of
God's eternal love in favour of sinners defeated. Thus
we may see a connexion between Joseph's first dream
and the death of our Lord Christ, with all its glorious
consequences. So strong, though secret, is the conca-
tenation betvAeen the greatest and the smallest events.
What a comfortable thought is this to a believer, to
know, that amidst all the various interfering designs of
men, the Lord has one constant design, which he can-
not, vvill not miss, namely, his own glory in the com-
plete salvation of his people ; and that he is wise, and
strong, and faithful, to make even those things which
seem contrary to this design, subservient to promote it?
You have allowed me to comment upon my own text ;
yet the length of this observation may need some apo-
logy. Believe me to be, with great respect, &c.
January 18, 1763.
LETTER VIL
Dear Sir,
T
HE ship I was now on board as a passenger, was
on a trading voyage for gold, ivory, dyers wood, and
bees-wax. It requires much longer time to collect a
cargo of this sort than of slaves. The captain began
his trade at Gambia, had been already four or five
months in Africa, and continued there a year, or there-
abouts, after I was with him ; in whicli time he ranged
the whole coast as far as Cape Lopez, which lies about
a degree south of the equinoctial, and more than a
Let. 7 Voyage from Cape Lopez for EnglaJid. 53
thousand miles further from England than the place
where I embarked. I have little to offer worthy your
notice in the course of this tedious voyage. I had no
business to employ my thoughts, but sometimes amus-
ed myself with mathematics : excepting this, my whole
life, when awake, was a course of most horrid impiety
and profaneness. I know not that I have ever since
met so daring a blasphemer : not content with common
oaths and imprecations, I daily invented new ones ; so
that I Avas often seriously reproved by the captain, who
was himself a very passionate man, and not at all cir-
cumspect in his expressions. From the relation I at
times made him of my past adventures, and what he
saw of my conduct, and especially towards the close of
the voyage, when we met with many disasters, he would
often tell me, that, to his great grief, he had a Jonah
on board ; that a curse attended me wherever I went;
and that all the troubles he met with in the voyage
were owing to his having taken me into the vessel. I
shall omit any further particulars, and after mentioning
an instance or two of the Lord's mercy to me, while I
was thus defying his power and patience, I shall pro-
ceed to something more worthy your perusal.
Although I lived long in the excess of almost every
other extravagance, I never was fond of drinking: and
my father has often been heard to say, that while I
avoided drunkenness, he should still entertain hopes of
my recovery. But sometimes I u'ould promote a drink-
ing-bout, for a frolic sake, as I termed it ; for though I
did not love the liquor, I was sold to do iniquity, and de-
lighted in mischief The last abominable frolic of this
sort I engaged in was in the ri\ er Gabon ; the propo-
sal and expense were my own. Four or five of us one
evening sat down upon deck, to see who could hold
54 Voyage from Cape Lopez for England. Let. 7.
out longest in drinking gene\-a and rum alternately :
a large sea-shell supplied the place of a glass. I was
very unfit for a challenge of this sort ; for my head
was always incapable of bearing much strong drink.
However, I began, and proposed the first toast, which
I well remember was some imprecation against the
person who should stat^t first. This proved to be my-
self. My brain was soon fired. I arose, and danced
about the deck like a madman ; and while I was thus
divertin,^ my companions, my hat went overboard. —
By the light of the moon, I saw the ship's boat, and
eagerly threw myslf over the side to get into her, that
I might recover my hat. ^ly sight in that circum-
stance deceived me ; for the boat was not within my
reach, as I thought, but perhaps twenty feet from the
ship's side. I was, however half overboard, and
should in one moment more iiave plunged myself into
the Avater, M'hen somebody caught hold of my clothes
behind, and pulled me back. This was an amazing
escape : for I could not sA\im, if I had been sober ; the
tide ran very strong ; my companions were too much
intoxicated to save me ; and the rest of the ship's com-
pany were asleep. So near was I to appearance of
perishing in that dreadful condition, and sinking into
eternity under the weight of my own curse.
Another time, at Cape Lopez, some of us had been
in the woods, and shot a buffalo, or wild cow ; wc
brought a part of it on board, and carefully marked
the place, (as I thought,) A\here we left the remainder.
In the evenin2 we returned to fetch it ; but mc set out
too late. I undertook to be the guide ; but night
coming on before we could reach the place, we lost
our way. Sometimes we A\'ere in swamps, up to the
middle in water ; and when we recovered dry land, wq
Let. 7. Voyage from Cape Lopez for England. 55
could not tell whether we were walking towards the
ship, or wandering further from her. Every step in-
creased our uncertainty. The night grew darker, and
we were entangled in inextricable woods, where per-
haps the foot of man had never trod before. That
part of the country is entirely abandoned to wild beasts,
with which it prodigiously abounds. We were indeed
in a terrible case, having neither light, food, nor arms,
and expecting a tiger to rush from behind every tree.
The stars were clouded, and we had no compass, to
form a judgment which way we were going. Had
things continued thus, we had probably perished ; but
it pleased God no beast came near us ; and, after some
hours perplexity, the moon arose, and pointed out the
eastern quarter. It appeared, then, as we had ex-
pected, that instead of drawing nearer to the sea-side,
we had been penetrating into the country, but by the
guidance of the moon, we at length came to the water-
side, a considerable distance from the ship. We got
safe on board, without any other inconvenience thajii
what we suffered from fear and fatigue.
Those, and many other deliverances, were all at
that time entirely lost upon me. The admonitions of
conscience, which, from successive repulses, had grown
weaker and weaker, at length entirely ceased ; and for
a space of many months, if not for some years, I can-
not recollect that I had a single check of that sort.
At times I had been visited with sickness, and have
believed myself near to death ; but I had not the least
concern about the consequences. In a word, I seemed
to have every mark of final impenitence and rejection;
neither judgments nor mercies made the least impres-
sion on me.
At length, our business finished, we left Cape Lopez,
56 Voyage from Cape Lopez for Englaml. Let. 7.
and, after a few days stay at the island of Annabona,
to lay in provisions, we sailed homewards about the
beginning of January, 1748. From Annabona to Eng-
land, without touching at any intermediate port, is a
very long navigation, perhaps more than seven thou-
sand miles, if we include the circuit necessary to be
made on account of the trade-winds. We sailed first
westward, till near the coast of Brazil, then north-
wards, to the banks of Newfoundland, with the usual
variations of wind and weather, and without meeting
any thing extraordinary. On these banks we stopped
half a day to fish for cod : this was then chiefly for di-
version ; we had provisions enough, and little expected
those fish, (as it afterwards proved,) would be all we
should have to subsist on. We left the banks March 1,
with a hard gale of wind westerly, which pushed us
fast homewards. I should here observe, that, with the
length of this voyage in a hot climate, the vessel was
greatly out of repair, and very unfit to support stormy
weather ; the sails and cordage were likewise very
mucli worn out, and many such circumstances con-
curred to render what followed more dangerous. I
think it was on the 9th of March, tlie day before our
catastrophe, that I felt a thought pass through my
mind, which I had long been a stranger to. Among
the few books we had on board, one was Stanhope's
Thomas a Kempis : I carelessly took it up, as I had
often done before, to pass away the time ; but I had
still read it with the same indifference as if it was en-
tirely romance. However, while i was reading this
time, an involuntary suggestion arose in my mind,
What if these thintj^s should be true ? I could not bear
the force of the inference, as it related to myself, and
therefore shut the book presently. My conscience wit-
Let. 7. Voijagefrom Cape Lopez for England. 57
nessed against me once more ; and I concluded, that,
true or false, I must abide the consequences of my own
choice. I put an abrupt end to these reflections, by
joining in with some vain conversation or other that
came in the way.
But now the Lord's time xvas come, and the convic-
tion I was so unwilling to receive, was deeply impressed
upon me, by an awful dispensation. I went to bed
that night in my usual security and indifference ; but
was awaked from a sound sleep by the force of a vio-
lent sea, which broke on board us. So much of it
came down below as filled the cabin I lay in w ith wa-
ter. This alarm was followed by a cry from the deck,
that the ship was going down, or sinking. As soon as
1 could recover myself, I essayed to go upon deck ;
but was met upon the ladder by the captain, who de-
sired me to bring a knife with me. While I returned
for the knife, another person went up in my room, who
was instantly washed overboard. We had no leisure
to lament him : nor did we expect to survive him long ;
for we soon found the ship was filling with water very
fast. The sea had torn away the upper timbers on one
side, and made the ship a mere wreck in a few mi-
nutes. I shall not affect to describe this disaster in the
marine dialect, which would be understood by io-w ;
and therefore I can give you but a very inadequate idea
of it. Taking in all circumstances, it was astonishing,
and almost miraculous, that any of us survived to relate
the story. We had immediate recourse to the pumps;
but the water increased against all our efforts : some
of us were set to hailhig in another part of the vessel,
that is, to lade it out with buckets and pails. We had
but eleven or twelve people to sustain this service ; «and
notwithstanding all we could do, she was full, or verv
Vol. T. ^ I
58 Voyage from Cape Lopez for England. Let. 7.
near it ; and then with a common cargo she must have
sunk of course ; but we had a great quantity of bees-
wax and wood on board, which were specifically lighter
than the water ; and as it pleased God that we received
this shock in the very crisis of the gale, towards morn-
ing we were enabled to employ some means for our
safety, which succeeded beyond hope. In about an
hour's time, the day began to break, and the wind
abated. We expended most of our clothes and bed-
ding to stop the leaks, (though the weather w as exceed-
ing cold, especially to us, who had so lately left a hot
climate ;) over these we nailed pieces of boards, and at
last perceived the water abate. At the beginning of
this hurry I was little affected. I pumped hard, and
endeavoured to animate myself and my companions.
I told one of them, that in a few days this distress
would serve us to talk of over a glass of wine : but he
being a less hardened sinner than myself, replied with
tears, " No, it is too late now " About nine o'clock,
being almost spent with cold and labour, I went to
speak with the ca[>tain, who was busied elsewhere ; and
just as I was returning from him, I said, almost with-
out any meaning, " If this will not do, the Lord have
" mercy on us." This, (though spoken with little re-
flection,) was the first desire I had breathed for mercy
for the space of many years. I was instantly struck
with my own words, and, as Jehu said once, JFhaf
hast thou to do with peace? So it directly occurred,
Jt hat mercy can there be J or me? I was obliged to
return to the pump, and there I continued till noon,
almost everv passing w ave l)reaking over my head ; but
we made ourselves fast w ith ropes, that we might not
be cashed away. Indeed, I expected that every time
the vessel descended in the sea, siie would rise no
Lei. 8. Danger, &c. m the Vojrige from Cape Lopez, 59
more, and though I dreaded death noii\ and my heart
foreboded the worst, it the Seriptures, which I I'ad
long since opposed, were indeed true ; yet still I was
but halt-convinced, and remained for a space ot time
in a sullen frame, a mixture of despair and impatience,
I tliought, if the Christian religion was true, I could
not be forgiven; and was therelore expecting, and al-
most, at times, wishing to know the worst ot it.
January J 9, 17(53. I am, &c.
LETTER VIII.
Dear Sir,
T
HE 10th, (that is, in the present style, the 21st,) of
]\Iarch, is a day much to be remembered by me, and
I have never suffered it to pass wholly unnoticed since
the year 1748. On that day the Lord sent from on
high, and delivered me out of deep waters. — I con-
tinued at the pump from three in the morn'mg till near
uoon, and then- 1 could do no more. I went and lay
down upon my bed, uncertain and almost indifferent,
whether I should rise again. In an hour's time I was
called ; and not being able to pump, I went to the
helm, and steered the ship till midnight, excepting a
small interval for refreshment. I had here leisure and
convenient opportunity for reflection, I began to think
of my former religious professions ; the extraordinary
turns in my life ; the calls, warnings, and deliverances I
had met with ; the licentious course of my convei'sa-
tion, particularly ray unparalleled effrontery in making
the gospel-history, (which I could not be sure was false,
though I was not as yet assured it was true,) the con-
60 Danger, Sec. in the Votj age from Cape Lopez. Let. 5,
slant subject of profane ridicule. I thouglit, allowing
the Scripture-premises, there never was, nor could be,
such a sinner as myself; and then comparing the ad-
vantages I had broken through, I concluded at first,
that my sins were too great to be forgiven. The Scrip-
ture likewise seemed to say the same ; for I had form-
erly been well acquainted with the Bible, and many
passages upon this occasion returned upon my memory,
particularly those awful passages, Prov. i, 24—31.
Heb. vi. 4. 6. and 2 Pet. ii. 20, which seemed so ex-
actly to suit my case and character, as to bring with
them a presumptive proof of a divine original. Thus,
as I have said, I waited with fear and impatience to re-
ceive my inevitable doom. Yet though I had thoughts
of this kind, they were exceeding faint and dispro-
portionate ; it was not till long after (perhaps several
years,) till I had gained some clear views of the infinite
righteousness and grace of Christ Jesus my Lord, that
I had a deep and strong apprehension of my state by
nature and practice ; and perhaps till then I could not
have borne the sight. So wonderfully does the Lord
proportion the discoveries ol sin and grace ; for he
knows our frame, and that if he was to put forth the
greatness of his power, a poor sinner would be instantly
overwhelmed, and crushed as a moth. — But to return:
\vhen I saw, beyond all probability, there was still hope
of respite, and heard about six in the evening, that the
ship was freed from water, — there arose a gleam of
hope. I thought I saw the hand of God displayed in
our favour : I began to pray. — I could not utter the
prayer of laith ; I could not draw near to a reconciled
God, and call him Father. ]\iy prayer was like the
cry of the ravens, which yet the Lord does not dis-
dain to hear. 1 now began to think of that Jesus
Let. 8. Danger, 8rc. in the Voyage from Cape Lopez. Gl
'vhom I had so often derided : I recollected the particu-
lars of his life, and of his death ; a death for sins not his
oxvn, but, as I remembered^ for the sake of those who
in their distress should put their trust in him. And
now I chiefly wanted evidence.- The comfortless
principles of infidelity were deeply riveted, and I ra-
ther wished than believed these things were real facts.
You will please to observe. Sir, that I collect the strain
of the reasonings and exercises of my mind in one view •
but I do not say that all this passed at one time. The
great question now was, how to ohimn faith ? I speak
not of an appropriating faith, (of which I then knew
neither the nature nor necessity,) but how I should
gain an assurance that the Scriptures were of divine in-
spiration, and a sufficient warrant for the exercise of
trust and hope in God. One of the first helps I re-
ceived, (in consequence of a determination to examine
the New Testament more carefully,) was from Luke xi.
1 3. I had been sensible, that to profess faith in Jesus
Christ, when in reality I did not believe his history, was
no better than a mockery of the heart-searching God; but
here I found a Spirit spoken of, which was to be com-
municated to those who ask it. Upon this I reasoned
thus ; — If this book be true, the promise in this passage
must be true likewise : I have need of that very spirit
by which the whole was wrote, in order to understand it
aright. He has engaged here to give that Spirit to those
who ask. 1 must therefore pray for it; and if it is
of God, he will make good his own word. My pur-
poses were strengthened by John vii. 17. I concluded
from thence, that though 1 could not say from my heart
that I believed the Gospel, yet I would for the present
take it for granted, and that by studying it in this light
I should be more and more confirmed in it. If what I
62 Danger, <^'C. in the Voyage J torn Cape Lopez. Let. 8.
am writincr could be perused by our modern infidels,
they would say, (for 1 too well know their manner,) that
I was very desirous to persuade myseli into this opinion.
1 confess I was ; and so would they be, if the Lord
would show them, as he was pleased to show me at
that time, the absolute necessity ot some expedient to
interpose bctueen a righteous God and a sintul soul.
Upon the Gospel-scheme I saw at least a peradventure
of hope, but on every other side 1 was surrounded with
black unfathomable despair.
The wind was now m.oderate, but continued fair,
and we were still drawing nearer to our port. We be-
gan to recover from our consternation, though we were
greatly alarmed by our circumstances. We found that
the water having floated all our moveables in the hold,
all the casks of provision had been beaten in pieces by
the violent motion of the ship: on the other hand, our live
stock, such as pigs, sheep, and poultry, had been washed
over board in the storm In effect, all the provisions
we saved, except the fish I mentioned, and some food
of the pulse kind, which used to be given to the hogs,
(and there was but little of this left,) all our other pro-
visions would have subsisted us but a week at scanty al-
lowance. The sails too, were mostly blown away, so
that we advanced but slowly even while the wind was
fair. We imagined ourselves about a hundred leao;ues
from the land, but were in reality much further. Thus
we proceeded with an alternate prevalence of hopes
and fears. My leisure time was chiefly employed in
reading and meditating on the Scripture, and praying to
the Lord lor mercy and instruction.
Things continued thus for four or five days, or per-
haps longer, till we were awakened one morning by
the joyful shouts of tl)e watch upon deck proclaiming
Let. 8. Danger., Src. in the Vmiage from Cape Lopez, 63
the sight oi land. We were all soon raised at the
sound. The dawning was uncommonly beautiful, and
the light, (just strong enough to discover distant ob^
jects,) presented us w ith a gladdening prospect : it
seemed a mountainous coast, about twenty miles from
us, terminating in a cape or point, and a little further
two or three small islands, or hummocks, as just rising
out of the water ; the appearance and position seemed
exactly answerable to our hopes, resembling the north-
west extremity of Ireland, which we were steering for.
We sincerely congratulated each other, making no
doubt but that, if the wind continued, we should be in
safety and plenty the next day. The small remainder
of our brandy, (which w as reduced to little more than a
pint,) was, by the captain's orders, distributed amongst
us ; he added at the same time, " We shall soon have
" brandy enough."' We likewise ate up the residue
of our bread for joy of this welcome sight, and were in
the condition of men suddenly reprieved from death.
While we were thus alert, the mate, with a graver tone
than the rest, sunk our spirits, by saying, that " he
" wished it niight prove land at last." If one of the
common sailors had first said so, I know not but the rest
would have beat him for raising such an unreasonable
doubt. It brought on, however, warm debates and
disputes, whether it was land or no : but the case was
soon unanswerably decided ; for the day was advancing
fast ; and in a little time one of our fancied islands be-
gan to grow red from the approach of the sun, which
soon arose just under it. In a w'ord, we had beeri
prodigal of our bread and brandy too hastily; our land
was literally in nubihus, nothing but clouds ; and in half
an hour more, the whole appearance was dissipated.
•— — -Seamenjiave often known deceptions of this sort
64 Danger, ^w in the Voyage from Cape Lope.:. Let. 8.
but in our extremity mc were very loth to be unde-
ceived. However, we comforted ourselves, that though
we could not see the land yet, we should soon, the
wind hitherto continuing fair. But, alas ! we were de-
prived of tliis hope likewise. That very day our fair
wind subsided into a calm, and the next morning the
gales sprung up from the south-east, directly against
us, and continued so for more than a fortnight alter-
wards. The ship was so wrecked, that we were obliged
to keep the wind always on the broken side, unless the
weather was quite moderate. Thus we were driven,
by the wind fixing in that quarter, still further from our
port; to the northward of all Ireland, as far as the
Lewis, or western islands of Scotland, but a long way
to the westward. In a word, our station was such as
deprived us of any hope of being relieved by other ves-
sels. It may, indeed, be questioned, whether our ship
was not the very first that had been in that part of the
ocean at the same season of the year.
Provisions now began to grow very short; the half
of a salted cod was a day's subsistence for twelve peo-
ple. We had plenty of fresh water, but not a drop of
stronger liquor ; no bread, hardly any clothes, and very
cold weatlier. We had incessant labour with the
pumps, to keep the ship above water. Much labour
and little food wasted us fast, and one man died under
the hardship. Yet our sufferings were light in compa-
rison of our just fears. We could not afford this bare
allowance much longer, but had a tcnible prospect of
being either starved to death, or reduced to feed upon
one another. Our expectations grew darker every day ;
and I had a further trouble peculiar to inysell. The
captain, whose temper was quite soured by distress,
was hourly reproaching me, (as I formerly observed,)
Let. 8. Danger.) <^r. in the Voyage from Cape Lopez. 65
as the sole cause of the calamity ; and was confident^
that if I was thrown overboard, and not otherwise, they
should be preserved from death. He did not intend to
make the experiment ; but the continual repetition of
this in my ears gave me much uneasiness, especially as
my conscience seconded his words ; I thought it very
probable, that all that had befallen us was on my ac-
count. I was at last found out by the powerful hand
of God, and condemned in my own breast. However,
proceeding in the method I have described, I began to
conceive hopes greater than all my fears ; especially
when at the time we were ready to give up all for lost,
and despair was taking place in every countenance, I
saw the wind come about to the very point we wished
it, so as best to suit that broken part of the ship which
must be kept out of the water, and to blow^ so gentle
as our few remaining sails could bear ; and thus it con-
tinued, without any observable alteration or increase,
though at an unsettled time of the year, till we once
more were called up to see the land, and were con-
vinced that it was land indeed. We saw the island
Tory, and the next day anchored in Lough S willy in
Ireland. This was the 8th of April, just four weeks
after the damage we sustained from the sea. When
we came into this port, our very last victuals was boil-
ing in the pot ; and before we had been there two
hours, the wind, which seemed to have been provi-
dentially restrained till we were in a place of safety,
began to blow with great violence ; so that, if we had
continued at sea that night in our shattered enfeebled
condition, we must, in all human appearance, have
gone to the bottom. About this time I began to know,
that there is a God that hears and answers prayer.
How many times has he appeared for mc since thil^
Vol. I. K
66 Events In Ireland., 8fC. Let. 9.
great deliverance ! Yet, alas ! how distrustful and un-
grateful is my heart unto this hour !
Jan. 19, 1703. I am, &c.
LETTER IX.
Dear Sir,
I
HAVE brought my history down to the time of my
arrival in Ireland, 1748 ; but before I proceed, I would
look back a little, to give you some further account of
the state of my mind, and how far I was helped against
inward difficulties, which beset me at the time I had
many outward hardships to struggle with. The straits
of hunger, cold, weariness, and the fears of sinking,
and starving, I shared in conmion with others ; but,
besides these, I felt a heart-bitterness, which was pro-
perly my own ; no one on board but myself being im-
pressed with any sense of the hand of God in our
danger and deliverance, at least not awakened to an}'
concern for their souls. No temporal dispensations
can reach the heart, unless the Lord himself applies
them. ]\Iy companions in danger were either quite
unaffected, or soon forgot it all : but it was not so with
me ; not that I was any wiser or better than they, but
because the Lord was pleased to vouchsafe me pecu-
liar mercy ; otherwise I v.as the most unlikely person
in the ship to receive an impression, hsiving been often
before quite stupid and hardened in the very face of
great dangers, and always, till this time, had hardened
my neck still more and more after every reproof ^ — I
can see no reason why the Lord singled me out for
mercy, but this, ^\ that so it seemed good to him ;" w\\-
Let. 9. Events in Ireland, 8,C. Cf
less it was to show, by one astonishing instance, that
Mith him " nothing is impossible."
There were no persons on board to whom I could
open myself with freedom concerning the state of my
soul ; none from whom I could ask advice. As to
books, I had a New Testament, Stanhope already men-
tioned, and a volume of bishop Beveridge's sermons,
one of which, upon our Lord's passion, affected me
much. In perusing the New Testament, I was struck
with several passages, particularly that of the tig-tree,
Luke xiii. ; the case of St. Paul, 1 Tim. i. ; but par-
ticularly the Prodigal, Luke xv. ; a case, I thought,
that had never been so nearly exemplified as by my-
self;— and then the goodness of the father in receiving,
nay, in running to meet such a son, and this intended
only to illustrate the Lord's goodness to returning sin-
ners,— this gained upon me. I continued much in
prayer ; I saw that the Lord had interposed so Jar to
save me ; and I hoped he would do more. The out-
ward circumstances helped in this place to make me
still more serious and earnest in crying to him who
alone could relieve me ; and sometimes I thought I
could be content to die even for want of food, so I
might but die a believer. Thus far I was answered,
that before we arrived in Ireland I had a satisfactory
evidence in my own mind of the truth of the Gospel,
as considered in itself, and its exact suitableness to an-
swer all my needs. I saw that, by the way there
pointed out, God might declare, not his mercy only,
but his justice also, in the pardon of sin, on the account
of the obedience and sufferings of Jesus Christ. My
judgment at that time embraced the sublime doctrine
of " God manifest in the flesh, reconciling the world
" to himself." I had no idea of those systems which
68 Eveias 171 Ireland, Src. Let. 9.
allow the Saviour no higher honour than that of an
upper servant, or, at the most, a dtmi-god. I stood in
need of an Almighty Saviour, and such a one I found
described in the New Testament. Thus far the Lord
had wrought a marvellous thing ; I was no longer an
infidel ; I heartily renounced my former profaneness ;
I had taken up some right notions, was seriously dis-
posed, and sincerely touched with a sense of the un-
deserved mercy I had received, in being brouaht safe
through so many dangers. I was sorry for my past
mis-spent life, and purposed an immediate reformation :
I was quite freed from the habit of swearing, which
seemed to have been deeply rooted in me as a second
nature. Thus, to all appearance, I was a new man.
But though I cannot doubt that this change, so far as
it prevailed, was wrought by the Spirit and power of
God ; yet still I was greatly deficient in many respects.
I was in some degree affected with a sense of my more
enormous sins ; but I was little aware of the innate
evils of my heart. I had no apprehension of the spi-
rituality and extent of the law of God ; the hidden life
of a Christian, as it consists in communion with God
by Jesus Christ, and a continual dependence on him
for hourly supplies of wisdom, strength, and comfort,
•was a mystery of which I had as yet no knowledge. I
acknowledged the Lord's mercy in pardoning what was
past, but depended chiefly upon my own resolution to
do better for the time to come. I had no Christian
friend or faithful minister to advise me that my strength
was no more than my righteousness ; and though I soon
began to inquire for serious books, yet not having spiritual
discernment, I frequently made a wrong choice ; and I
was not brought in the way of evangelical preaching or
conversation, (except a few times when I heard but un-
Let. 9, Events in Ireland, Src. 69
derstood not,) for six years after this period. Those
things the Lord was pleased to discover to me gradu-
ally. I learnt them here a little, and there a little, by
my own painful experience, at a distance from the com^
mon means and ordinances, and in the midst of the same
course of evil company, and bad examples, as I had
been conversant with for some time. From this period
I could no more make a mock at sin^ or jest with holy
things ; I no more questioned the truth of Scripture, or
lost a sense of the rebukes of conscience. Therefore I
consider this as the beginning of my return to God, or
rather of his return to me ; but I cannot consider my-
self to have been a believer, (in the full sense of the
word,) till a considerable time afterwards.
I have told you, tiial, in the time of our distress, we
had fresh water in abundance. This was'.a considera»
ble relief to us, especially as our spare diet was mostly
salt-fish without bread ; we drank plentifully, and were
not afraid of wanting water; yet our stock of this likewige
was much nearer to an end than we expected ; we sup-
posed that we had six large butts of water on board ;
and it was well that we were safe arrived in Ireland be^
fore we discovered that five of them wexe empty, having
been removed out of their places, and stove by the vio-
lent agitation M'hen the ship was full of water. If we
had found this out while we were at sea, it would have
greatly heightened our distress, as we must have drank
more sparingly.
While the ship was refitting at Lough Swilly, I re-
paired to Londonderry. I lodged at an exceeding
good house, M'here I was treated with much kindness,
and soon recruited mv health and strength. I was now^
^ CD
a serious professor ; went twice a-day to the prayers at
church, and determined to receive the sacrament the
70 Events m Ireland^ S(c. Let. 9.
next opportunity, A few days before, I signified my
intention to the minister, as the rubric directs; but I
found this practice was grown obsolete. At length the
day came : I arose very early, was very particular and
earnest in my private devotion ; and, with the greatest
solemnity, engaged myself to be the Lord's for ever,
and only his. This was not a formal but a sincere sur-
render, under a warm sense of mercies recently re-
ceived ; and yet, for want of a better knowledge of my-
self, and the subtiity of Satan's temptation, I was se-
duced to forget the vows of God that were upon me.
Upon the whole, though my views of the Gospel-sal-
vation were very indistinct, I experienced a peace and
satisfaction in the ordinance that day, to which I had
been hitherto a perfect stranger.
The next day I was abroad with the mayor of the
city, and some other gentlemen, shooting : I climbed
up a steep bank, and pulling my fowling-piece after
me, as I held it in a perpendicular direction, it went
off so near my face as to burn away the corner of my
hat. Thus, when we think ourselves in the greatest
safety, we are no less exposed to danger, than when all
the elements seem conspiring to destroy us. The Di-
vine Providence, which is sufficient to deliver us in our
utmost extremity, is equally necessary to our preser-
vation in the most peaceful situation.
During our stay in Ireland I wrote home. The
vessel I was in had not been heard of for eigliteen
months, and was given up for lost lon^ before. i\Iy
father had no more expectation of hearing that I was
alive; but he received my letter a fe^v days before he
left London. He was just a;oing governor of York
Fort in Hudson's Bay, from whence iie never returned.
He sailed before I landed in England, or he had [)ur-
l,et. 9. Arrival in Englaml. 71
posed to take me with him ; but God designing other-
wise, one hindrance or other delayed us in Ireland
until it was too late. I received two or three affec-
tionate letters from him, but I never had the pleasure
of seeing him more. I had hopes, that, in three years
more, I should have had an opportunity of asking his
forgiveness for the uneasiness my disobedience had
given him : but the ship that was to have brought him
home came without him. "According to the best ac-
counts we received, he was seized uith the cramp when
bathing, and drowned, a little before her arrival in the
bay. — Excuse this digression.
jVIy father, willing to contribute all in his power to
my satisfaction, paid a visit before his departure to my
friends in Kent, and gave his consent to the union
which had been so long talked of. Thus when I re-
turned to , I found I had only the consent of one
person to obtain ; w ith her I as yet stood at as great an
uncertainty as on the first day I saw her.
I arrived at ■ the latter end of May, 1748,
about the same day that my father sailed from the
Nore ; but found the Lord had provided me another
lather in the gentleman whose ship had brought me
home. He received me with great tenderness, and the
strongest expressions of friendship and assistance : yet
no more than he has since made good ; for to him, as
the instrument of God's goodness, I owe my all. Yet
It w ould not have been in the power even of this friend
to have served me effectually, if the Lord had not met
with me on my way home, as I have related. Till
then I was like the man possessed with the legion.—
No arguments, no persuasion, no views of interest, no
remembrance of the past, or regard to the future, could
have constrained me within the hounds of common
72 Voyage to Africa. Let. 10.
prudence. But now I was in some measure restored
to my senses. My friend immediately offered me the
command of a ship ; but, upon mature consideration,
I declined it for the present. I had been hitherto al-
ways unsettled and careless ; and therefore thought I
had better make another voyage fn^st, and learn to
obey, and acquire a further insight and experience in
business, before I ventured to undertake such a charge.
The mate of the vessel I came home in was preferred to
the command of a new ship, and I engaged to go in the
station of mate with him. I made a short visit to Lon-
don, &c. which did not fully ans.M'er my views. I had
but one opportunity of seeing Mrs. N*****, of which I
availed myself very little; for I was always exceeding
awkward in pleading my own cause viva voce.- -But
after my return to L , I put the question in such a
manner, by letter, that she could not avoid, (unless I
had greatly mistaken her,) coming to some sort of an
explanation. Her answer, (though penned with abund-
ance of caution,) satisfied me, as I collected from it,
that she was free from any other engagement, and not
unwilling to wait the event of the voyage I had under-
taken. I should be ashamed to trouble you with theso
little details, if you had not yourself desired me.
January 20, 1763. I am, kv.
LETTER X.
Dear Sir,
.Y connexions with sea-affairs have often led me to
think, that the varieties observable in Christian expe-
rience may be properly illustrated from the circuin-
Let. 10. yoi/agc to Africa. TS
Stances of a voyage. Imagine to yourself a number of
vessels, at different times, and from different places,
bound to the same port ; there are some things in
which all these would agree, — the compass steered by,
the port in view, the general rules of navigation, both
as to the management of the vessel, and determinino;
their astronomical observations, would be the same in
all. In other respects they would differ : perhaps no
two of them would meet with the same distribution of
winds and weather. Some we see set out with a pros-
perous gale : and when they almost think their passage
secured, they are checked by adverse blasts ; and, aftex'
enduring much hardship and danger, and frequent ex-
pectations of shipwreck, they just escape, and reach the
desired haven. Others meet the greatest difficulties at
tirst ; they put forth in a storm, and are often beaten
back ; at length their voyage proves favourable, and
they enter the port with a Trxupo^op.a, a rich and abund-
ant entrance. Some are hard beset with cruisers and
enemies, and obliged to fight their way through ; others
meet with little remarkable in their passage. Is it not
thus in the spiritual life? All true believers walk by
the same rule, and mind the same things : the word of
God is their compass ; Jesus is both their polar star
and their sun of righteousness ; their hearts and faces
are all set Sion-ward. Thus tar they -are as one body,
animated by one spirit ; yet their experience, formed
upon these common principles, is far from being uni-
form. The Lord, in his first call, and his foUouing
dispensations, has a regard to the situation, temper,
talents of each, and to the particular services or trials
he has appointed them for. Though all are exercised
at times, yet some pass through the voyage of life much
more smoothly than others. But he " who walketh
Vol. r. ' L
r-i Voyage io Africa. Lrt. 10.
'' upon the \vings of the ^vind, and measures the Ava-
" ters in the hollow of his hand," will not suffer any of
whom he has once taken charge, to perish in the storms,
though for a season, perhaps, many of them are ready
to give up all hopes.
We must not, therefore, make the experience of
others, in all respects, a rule to ourselves, nor our
own a rule to others ; yet these are common mistakes,
and productive of many more. As to myself, every
part of my case has been extraordinary. — I have hardly
met a single instance resembling it. Few, very fe^^■,
have been recovered from such a dreadful state ; and
the few that have been thus favoured, have generally
passed through the most severe convictions ; and after
the Lord has given them peace, their future lives have
been usually more zealous, bright, and exemplary, than
common. Now as, on the one hand, my convictions
were very moderate, and far beloM- what might have
been expected from the dreadful review I had to make :
so, on the other, my first beginnings in a religious course
were as faint as can be well imagined. I never knew
that season alluded to, Jer. ii. 2. Rev. ii. 4. usually
called the time of the first love. Who would not ex-
pect to hear, that after such a wonderful unhoped-for
deliverance as I had received, and after my eyes were
in some measure enlightened to see things aright, I
should immediately cleave to the Lord and his ways,
with full purpose of heart, and consult no more with
flesh and blood ? But, alas ! it was far otherwise with
me. I had learned to pray : I set some value upon
the word of God, and \\ as no longer a libertine : but
my soul still cleaved to the dust. Soon after my de-
parture from L , I began to intermit, and grow
slack in waiting upon the Lord : I grew vain and tri-
Let. 10. J'oyage to AjVica. 7b
A'm^ in my conversation ; and though my heart smote
me often, yet my armour was gone, and I declined
fast ; and by the time I arrived at Guinea, I seemed
to have forgot all the Lord's mercies, and my own en-
gao;ements, and was, (profaneness excepted.) almost as
bad as before. The enemy prepared a train of tempt-
ations, and I became his easy prey ; and, for about a
month, he lulled me asleep in a course of evil, of uhich,
a feu' months before, I could not have supposed myself
any longer capable. How umch propriety is there in
the apostle's advice, " Take heed, \e%t any of you be
'' hardened through the deceitfulness of sin r" O who
can be sufficiently upon their guard ! Sin first deceives,
and then it hardens. I was now fast bound in chains ;
I had little desire, and no pou er at all, to recover my-
self. I could not but at times reflect how it was with
me ; but if I attempted to struggle with it, it was in
vain. I was just like Samson, when he said, " I will
" go forth, and shake myself as at other times ;" but
the Lord was departed, and he found himself helpless,
in the hands of his enemies. By the remembrance of
this interval, tiie Lord has often instructed me since,
what a poor creature I am in myself, incapable of
standing a single hour, without continual fresh supplies
Oi strenjith and ifrace from the fountain-head.
At length the Lord, whose mercies are infinite, inter-
posed in my behalf. My business in this voyage, while
upon the coast, was to sail from place to place in the
long boat, to purchase slaves. The ship was at Sierra
Leone, and I then at the Plantancs, the scene of my
former captivity, where every thing I saw might seem
to remind me of my ingratitude, I was in easy circum-
stances, courted by those who formerly despised me:
the Hme-trees I had planted were growing tall, and pro-
*6 ^'oi/agc cd Jjrica. Let. 10.
mised fruit the following year; against vvliich time I had
expectations of returning with a ship of my own. But
none of these things affected me, till, as I have said,
the Lord again interposed to save me. He visited me
with a violent fever, which hroke the fatal chain, and
oiice more brought me to myself But, O what a pros-
pect! I thought myself now summoned aAvay. My
past dangers and deliverances, my earnest prayers in
the time of trouble, my solemn vows before the Lord at
his table, and my ungrateful returns for all his good-
iiess, were all present to my mind at once. Then I
began to wish that the Lord had suffered me to sink
into the ocean, ^vhcn I first besought his mercy. For a
little while I concluded the door of hope to be quite
shut ; but this continued not long. Weak, and almost
delirious, I arose from my bed, and crept to a retired
part of the island ; and here I found a renewed liberty
to pray. I durst make no more resolves, but cast my-
self before the Lord, to do with me as he should please.
I do not remember that any particular text, or remark-
able discovery, was presented to my mind ; but in ge-
neral I was enabled to hope and believe in a crucified
Saviour. The burden was removed from my con-
science, and not only my peace, but my health was re-
stored : I cannot say instantaneously ; but I recovered
from that hour ; and so fast, that when 1 returned to the
sliip, two days afterwards, I was perfectly well before
I got on board. And from that time, I trust, I have
been delivered from the povver and dominion of sin ;
though as to the effects and conflicts of sin dwelling in
me, I still " groan, being burdened." I now began
again to wait upon the Lord; and though I have often
grieved his Spirit, and foolishly wandered from him
since, (when, alas ! shall I be more wise r) yet his
.Let. 10. Toycigc to Africa. 7?
powerful grace has hitherto preserved me from such
black declensions as this I have last recorded ; and I
humbly trust in his mercy and promises, that he will be
my guide and guard to the end.
My leisure hours in this voyage were chiefly em-
ployed in learning the Latin language, which I had
now entirely forgot. This desire took place from an
imitation I had seen of one of Horace's odes in a Ma^
gazine. I began the attempt under the greatest disad-
vantages possible ; for I pitched upon a poet, perhaps,
the most difficult of the poets, even Horace himself, for
my first book. I had picked up an old English transla-
tion of him, which, with Castalio's Latin Bible, were
all my helps. I forgot a Dictionary; but I would not
therefore give up my purpose, i had the edition in
iisum Delphini ; and by comparing the Odes m ith the
interpretation, and tracing the words I could under-
stand from one place to another by the index, with the
assistance I could get from the Latin Bible : in this
way, by dint of hard industry, often waking when I
might have slept, I made some progress before I re-
turned, andnot only understood the sense and meaninq-
of many Odes, and some of the Epistles, but began to
relish the beauties of the composition, and acquired a
spice of what Mr. Law calls classical enthusiasm. And
indeed, by this means, I had Horace more ad uuguem
than some who are masters of the Latin tongue ; for
my helps were so few, that I generally had tiie pas-
sage fixed in my memory, before I could fully under-
stand its meaning.
My business in the long-boat, during eight months
we were upon the Coast, exposed me to innumerable
dangers and perils, from burning suns and chilling dews,
winds, rains, and thunder-storms, in the open boat; and
78 Fo!/<'(ge to Africa. Let. 10,
on shore, from lonfr journeys through the woods, and the
temper of the natives, v^ho are in many places cruel,
treacherous, and watchintr opportunities for mischief.
Several boats in the same time were cut off, several white
men poisoned, and in my own boat I buried six or se-
ven people with fevers. When going on shore, or re-
turning from it in their little canoes, I liave been more
than once or twice overset by the violence of the surf,
or breach of the sea, and brought to land half-dead, (for
I could not swim.) An account of such escapes as I
still remember, would swell to several sheets, and many
more I have perhaps forgot; I shall only select one
instance, as a specimen of that uonderlul providence
which watched over me for good, and which, 1 doubt
not, you will think worthy of notice.
When our trade was finished, and we M'ere nearsail-
ina; to the West Indies, the only remainino; service I
had to perform in the boat, was to assist in bringing the
wood and water from the shore. We were then at Rio
Cestors. I used to go into the river in the afternoon
with the sea breeze, procure my loading in the evening,
and return on board in the morning with the land-wind.
Several of these little voyages I had made; but the boat
was grown old, and almost unfit for use. This service
likewise was almost completed. One day, having dined
on board, I was preparing to return to the river as
formerly : I had takesi leave of the captain, received his
orders, was ready in the boat, and just going to put off.
as we term it ; that is, to let go our ropes, and sail
from the ship. In that instant the captain came up
from the cabin, and called me on board again. 1
went, expecting further orders ; but he said, he had took
it in his head, (as he phrased it,) that I should remain
that day in the ship ; and accordingly ordered another
Let. II. Voyage to Anti[{ua. 79
man to go in my room. I n as surprised at this, as the
boat had never been sent away without me before, and
asked him the reason : he could give me no reason but as
above, that so he would have it. Accordingly the boat
went without me ; but returned no more: she sunk that
night in the river, and the person who had supplied my
place was drowned. I was much struck when we received
news of the event the next morning. — The captain him-
self, though quite a stranger to religion, so far as to deny
a particular providence, could not help being affected;
but he declared, that he had no other reason for coun-
termanding me at that time, but that it came suddenly
into his mind to detain me. 1 wonder I omitted this
in my eight letters, as I have always thought it one of
the most extraordinary circumstances of my life.
January 21, 1763. T am, &c.
LETTER XI.
Dear Sir,
A
FEW days after I w^as thus wonderfully saved fmni
an unforeseen danger, we sailed for Antigua, and from
thence proceeded to Charlestown in South Carolina. In
this place there arc many serious people ; but I knew
not where to find them out : indeed I was not aware of
a difference, but supposed that all who attended public
worship were good Christians. I was as much in the
dark about preaching, not doubting but whatever came
from the pulpit must be very good. I had two or three
opportunities of hearing a dissenting minister, named
Smith, who. by what I have known since, I believe to
80 ^'oi/age to Antigua^ ^c Let. 11.
have been an excellent and powerful preacher of the
Gospel ; and there was something in his manner that
struck me, but I did not rightly understand him. The
best words that men can speak are ineffectual, till ex-
plained and applied by the Spirit of God, who alone
can open the heart. It pleased the Lord, for some
time, that I should learn no more than what he enabled
me to collect from my own experience and reflection.
?\Jy conduct was now very inconsistent. — Almost every
day, when business would permit, I used to retire into
the woods and fields, (for these, when at hand, have
always been my favourite oratories,) and I trust I be-
gan to taste the sweets of communion with God, in the
exercises of prayer and praise ; and yet I frequently
spent the evenings in vain and worthless company. In-
deed, my relish for worldly diversions was much weak-
ened, and I was rather a spectator than a sharer in
their pleasures ; but I did not as yet see the necessity
of an absolute forbearance. Yet, as my compliance
with custom and company was chiefly owing to want of
light, rather than to an obstinate attachment, and the
Lord was pleased to preserve me from what I knew was
sinful, I had for the most part peace of conscience, and
mv stronfTest desires were towards the things of God.
As yet I knew not the force of that precept, " Abstain
" from all appearance of evil ;" — but very often ven-
tured upon the brink of temptation : but the Lord was
gracious to my weakness, and would not suffer the
enemy to prevail against me, I did not break with the
world at once, (as might in my case have been expected,)
but I was gradually led to see the inconvenience and
folly of one thing after another ; and when I saw it, the
Lord strengthened me to give it up. But it was some
Let 11. Return to Englaiul., and Marriage. SX
years before I was set quite at liberty from occasional
compliances in many things in which at this time I durst
by no means allow myself.
We finished our voyage, and arrived in L .
When the ship's affairs were settled, I went to Lon-
don, and from thence, (as you may suppose,) I soon re-
paired to Kent. More than seven years were now
elapsed since my first visit. — -No views of the kind
could seem more chimerical, or could subsist under
greater discouragements than mine had done ; yet,
throuiih the over-rulins; goodness of God, wliile I
seemed abandoned to myself, and blindly following
my own headstrong passions, I was guided by a hand
that I knew not to the accomplishment of my wishes.
Every obstacle was now removed. I had renounced
my former follies, my interest w^as established, and
friends on all sides consenting : the point was now en-
tirely between ourselves ; and^ after what had passed,
■was easily concluded.- 'Accordingly our hands were
joined on the 1st of February 1730.
The satisfaction I have found in this union, you will
suppose, has been greatly heightened by reflection on
the former disaoreeable contrasts I had gone throu2;h,
and the views I have had of the singular mercy and
providence of the Lord in bringing it to pass. If you
please to look back to the beginning of my sixth letter
(p. 45,) I doubt not but you will allow, that few per-
sons have known more, either of the misery or happi-
ness of which human life, (as considered in itself,) is ca-
pable. How easily, at a time of life when I was so
little capable of judging (but a few months more than
seventeen,) might my affections have been fixed where
they could have met with no return, or where success
would have been the heaviest disappointment. Tlie
Vor. I U
83- liciurii to Engkuidyand Matrtage. Let. i\ .
long delay I met uitli was likewise a nicrc}^ ; for had I
succeeded a year or two sooner, before the Lord was
pleased to change my heart, we must have been mu-
tually unhappy, even as to the present life. " Surely
" mercy and goodness have followed me all my days."
But, alas ! I soon began to feel that my heart was
still hard and ungrateful to the God of my life. This
crowning mercy, which raised me to all I could ask or
wish in a temporal view, and which ought to have been
an animating motive to obedience and praise, had a
contrary effect. — I rested in tlie gift, and forgot the
giver. My poor narrow heart ^^•as satisjied. — A cold
and careless frame, as to spiritual things, took place,
and gained ground daily. Happily for me, the season
was advancing, and in June I received orders to re-
pair to L . This roused me from my dream ; I
need not tell you that I found the pains of absence and
separation fully proportioned to my preceding pleasure.
It was hard, very hard, to part, especially as conscience
interfered, and suggested to me how little I deserved
that we should be spared to meet again. — But the
Lord supported me. I was a poor, faint, idolatrous
creature ; but I had now some acquaintance M'ith the
way of access to a throne of grace by the blood of
Jesus ; and peace was soon restored to my conscience.
Yet through all the following voyage my irregular and
excessive aticctions were as thorns in my eyes, and
often made my other blessings tasteless and insipid.
But he who doth all things well, over-ruled this like-
wise for good. It became an occasion of quickening
me in prayer both for her and myself; it increased my
indifference for company and amusement ; it habitu-
ated me to a kind of voluntary self-denial, which I was
s^fterwards taught to improve to a better purpose.
Let, II. Voyage to Africa. S^
While I remained in England, we corresponded
everv post; and all the while I used the sea after-
wards, I constantly kept up the practice of writing two
or three times a week, (if weather and business per-
mitted,) though no conveyance homeward offered for
six or eight months together. My packets were usual-
ly heavy ; and as not one of them at any time miscar-
ried, I have to the amount of near two hundred sheets
of paper now lying in my bureau of that correspond-
ence. I mention this little relief I contrived to soften
the intervals of absence, because it had a good effect
beyond my first intention. It habituated me to think
and write upon a great variety of subjects; and 1 ac-
quired, insensibly, a greater readiness of expressing
myself than I should have otherwise attained. As
I gained more ground in religious knowledge, my
letters became more serious ; and, at times, I still
find an advantage in looking them over ; especially as
they remind mc of my many providential incidents, and
the state of my n:iind at different periods in these
voyages, v. hich would otherwise have escaped my me-
mory.
I sailed from L in August 1750, commander of
a good ship. I have no very extraordinary events to
recount from this period, and shall therefore contract
my memoirs, lest I become tedious ; yet I am willing
to give you a brief sketch of my history down to 1755,
the year of my settlement in my present situation. I
had now the command and care of thirty persons : I
endeavoured to treat them with humanity, and to set
them a good example : I likewise established public
worship, according to the liturgy, twice every Lord's
, day, officiating myself. Further than this I did not
proceed, while I continue^ in that employment.
34 Voyage lo Africa. Let. 11,
Having now much leisure, I prosecuted the study of
the Latin with good success. I remembered a dic-
tionary this voyage, and procured two or three other
books ; but still it was my hap to choose the hardest.
I added Juv-enal to Horace; and, for prose authors, I
pitched upon Livy, Cfesar, and Sallust. You will ea-
sily conceive, Sir, that I had hard work, to begin, (where
I should have left off,) with Horace and Livy. I was
not aware of the difference of style ; I had heard Livy
highly commended, and was resolved to understand
him. I began ^^itll the first page and laid down a
rule, which I seldom departed from, not to proceed to
a second period till I understood the first) and so on.
I was ollen at a stand, but seldom discouraged : here
and there I found a few lines quite obstinate, and was
forced to break in upon my rule, and give them up,
especially as my edition had only the text, without any
hotcs to assist me. But there were not many such ;
for before the close of that voyage, I could, (with a few
exceptions,) read Livy from end to end, almost as rea-
dily as an English author. And I found, in surmount-
ing this difficulty, I had surmounted all in one. Other
prose authors, when they came in my way, cost me
little trouble. In short, in the space of two or three
voyages, I became tolerably acquainted with the best
classics, (I put all I have to say upon this subject toge-
ther ;) I read Terrence, Virgil, and several pieces of
Cicero, and the modern classics, l^uchanan, Erasmus,
and Cassimir. At len<2;th I conceived a design of be-
coming Ciceronian myself, and thought it would be a
fine thing indeed to write pure and elegant Latin. I
made some essays towards it, but by this time the Lord
was pleased to draw me nearer to himself, and to give
me a fuller view of the " pearl of great price," the in-
Let. 11. Voyage to Africa. 85
estimable treasure hid in the field of the holy Scripture ;
and, for the sake of this, I was made willing to part
with all my new-acquired riches. I began to think
that life was too short, (especially my life,) to admit of
leisure for such elaborate trifling. Neither poet nor
historian could tell me a word of Jesus, and I there-
fore applied myself to those who could. The classics
were at first restrained to one morning in the week,
and at length quite laid aside. I have not looked in
Livy these five years, and I suppose I could not now
well understand him. Some passages in Horace and
Virgil I still admire ; but they seldom come in my way.
I prefer Buchanan's Psalms to a whole shelf of Elze-
virs. Eut thus much I have gained, and more than
this I am not solicitous about, so much of the Latin as
enables me to read any useful or curious book that is
published in that language. About the same time, and
for the same reason that I quarrelled with Livy, I laid
aside the mathematics. — I found they not only cost me
much time, but engrossed my thoughts too far; my head
was literally full of schemes. I was weary of cold con-
templative truths, which can neither warm nor amend
the heart, but rather tend to aggrandize self. I found
no traces of this wisdom in the life of Jesus, or the
writings of Paul. I do not regret that I have had some
opportunities of knowing the first principles of these
things : but 1 see much cause to praise the Lord that
he inclined me to stop in time ; and, whilst I was
" spending my labours for that which is not bread,"
was pleased to set before me " wine and milk without
" money and without price."
My first voyage was fourteen months, through vari-
ous scenes of danger and difficulty, but nothing very
remarkable ; and, as I intend to be more particular
S6 Another Voyage to Africa. Let. 12.
with regard to the second, I shall only say, that I was
preserved from every harm : and having seen many fall
on my right hand and on my left, I was brought home
in peace, and restored to where my thoughts had been
often directed, November 2, 1751.
Jamiiirii £2, \763. I am, &c.
LETTER XII.
Dear Sir,
ALMOST wish I could recall my last sheet, and re-
tract my promise. I fear I have engaged too far, and
shall prove a mere egotist. What have I more that
can deserve your notice? However, it is some satis-
faction that I am now writing to yourself only ; and, I
believe, you will have candour to excuse what nothing
but a sense of your kindness could extort from me.
Soon after the period where my last closes, that is,
in the interval between my first and second voyage af-
ter my marriage, I began to keep a sort of diary ; a
practice which 1 have since found of great use. I had
in this interval repeated proofs of the ingratitude and
evil of my heart. A life of ease, in the midst of my
friends, and the full satisfaction of my wishes, was not
favourable to the progress of grace, and afforded cause
of daily humiliation. Yet, upon the whole, I gained
ground. I became acquainted with books, which gave
ine a farther view of Christian doctrine and experience;
particularly, ScougaCs Life of God in the Soul of Man,
llcrrefs illeditations, and the Life of Colonel Gardi-
nc7\ As to preaching, I heard none but the connnon
sortj and had iiardly an idea of any better; neither had
Let. 12. Another Voyage to Africa, 87-
I the advantage of Chiistian acquaintance, I was
likewise greatly hindered by a cowardly reserved spirit;
I was afraid of being thought precise ; and though I
could not live without prayer, I durst not propose it
even to my wife, till she herself first put me upon it ;
so far was I from those expressions of zeal and love,
which seem so suitable to the case of one who has had
much forjiiven. In a few months the returnino; season
called me abroad again, and I sailed from L , in a
new ship, July, \75^Z.
A sea-faring life is necessarily excluded from the
benefit of public ordinances and Christian communion:
but, as I have observed, my loss upon these heads was
at this time but small. In other respects, I knou* not
any calling that seemiS more favourable, or affords
greater advantages to an awakened mind, for promot-
ing the life of God in the soul ; especially to a person
who has the comujand of a ship, and thereby has it in
his power to restrain gross irregularities in others, and
to dispose of his own time ; and still more so in African
voyages, as these ships carry a double proportion of
men and officers to most others, w hich made my de-
partment very easy ; and, excepting the hurry of trade.
&c. upon the coast, which is rather occasional than
constant, afforded me abundance of leisure. To be at
sea in these circumstances, withdrawn out of the reach
of innumerable temptations, with opportunity and a turn
of mind disposed to observe the wonders of God in the
great deep, with the two noblest objects of sight, the
expanded lieaxens, and the expanded ocean, continu-
ally in view ; and where evident interpositions of Di-
vine Providence, in answer to prayer, occur almost
every day : these are helps to quicken and confirm the
life of faith, which in a good measure supply to a reli-
88 Another Voyage to Africa. Let. 12.
gious sailor the want of those advantages which can be
enjoyed only uj)on the shore. And indeed, thougli my
knowledge of spiritual things, as knowledge is usually
estimated, was at this time very small ; yet I sometimes
look back with regret upon those scenes. I never knew
sweeter or more frequent hours of divine communion,
than in my two last voyages to Guinea, when I was
either almost secluded from society on shipboard, or
when on shore amongst the natives. I have wandered
through the woods, reflecting on the singular goodness
of the Lord to me, in a place where, perhaps, tnere
Mas not a person that knew him for some thousand
miles round me. Many a time, upon these occasions,
I have restored the beautiful lines of Propertius to their
right owner ; lines full of blasphemy and madness when
addressed to a creature, but full of comfort and pro-'
priety in the mouth of a believer.
Sic egv denertis possim bene -vivere sylvis,
Que nulla /nanano sit via trita peek :
Tu mihi curarum rerji/i' s, in node vel atra
Liuiien, et in solis tu mi/ii turba locis.
PARAPHRASED.
In desert woods, with thee, my God,
Where human footsteps never trod,
How happy could I be !
Thou my repose from care, my light
Amidst the darkness of the night,
In solitude my company.
In the course of this voyage I was wonderfully pre-
served in the midst of many obvious and many unfore-
seen dangers. At- one time there was a conspiracy
amongst my own people to turn pirates, and take the
Let. 12. Another Voijage to Africa, 89
ship from me. When the plot was nearly ripe, and
they waited only a convenient opportunity, two of those
concerned in it were taken ill one day ; one of them
died, and he was the only person I buried M'hile on
board. This suspended the aftair, and opened a way
to its discovery, or the consequence might have been
fatal. The slaves on board were likewise frequently
plotting insurrections, and were sometimes upon the
very brink of mischief; but it was always disclosed in
due time. When I have thought myself most secure,
I have been suddenly alarmed with, danger ; and when
I have almost despaired of life, as suddenly a deliver-
ance has been vouchsafed me. I\Iy stay upon the
Coast was long, the trade very precarious ; and, in the
pursuit of my business, both on board and on shore, I
Mas In deaths often. Let the following instance serve
as a specimen.
I was at a place called JMana, near Cape IMount,
where I had transacted very large concerns ; and had,
at the time I am speaking of, some debts and accounts
to settle, which required my attendance on shore, and
I intended to so the next mornins;. When I arose
I left the ship, according to my purpose ; but w hen I
came near the shore, the surf, or breach of the sea, ran
so high, that I was almost afraid to attempt landing.
Indeed I had often ventured at a worse time ; but I
felt an inward hindrance and backwardness, which I
could not account for : the surf furnished a pretext for
indulging it ; and after waiting and hesitating for about
half an hour, I returned to the ship, without doing my
business ; which I think I never did, but that morning,
in all the time I used that trade. ^But I soon per-
ceived the reason of all this. It seems, the day be-
fore I intended to land, a scandalous and groundless
Vol. I. N
90 Another Foi/age to Africa. Let. 12.
charge had been laid against me, (by whose instigation
I could never learn,) which greatly threatened my
honour and interest, both in Africa and En^jland, and
would perhaps, humanly speakingr, have affected my
life, if I had landed according to my intention. I
shall, perhaps, inclose a letter, which will give a full
account of this strange adventure ; and therefore sh^U
Say no more of it here, any further than to tell you, that
an attempt aimed to destroy cither my life or character,
and which mi<j;ht very probably, in its consequences,
have ruined my voyage, passed off without the least in-
convenience. The person most concerned owed me
about a hundred pounds, which he sent me in a huff;
and otherwise, perhaps, would not have paid me at all.
I was very uneasy for a few hours, but was soon after-
wards comforted. I heard no more of my accusation
till the next voyage : and then it w^as publicly acknow-
ledged to be a malicious calumny, without the least
shadow of a ground.
Such were the vicissitudes and difficulties through
which the Lord preserved me. Now and then both
faith and patience were sharply exercised ; but suitable
strength was given ; and as those things did not occur
every day, the study of the Latin, of which I gave a ge-
neral account in my last, was renewed, and carried on
from time to time when business would permit. I was
mostly very regular in the management of my time; I al-
lotted eight hours for sleep and meals, eight hours for
exercise and devotion, and eight hours to my books : and
thus, by diversifying my engagements, the whole day was
agreeably filled up; and I seldom found a day too long,
or an hour to spare. J\Iy studies kept me employed ;
and so tar it was well : otherw isc they w ere hardly worth
the time tliey cost, as thcv led me to an admiration of
Let. 12. Another Voyage to Jfriea. 91
false models and false maxims ; an almost unavoida-
ble consequence, (I suppose,) of an admiration of clas-
sic authors. Abating what I have attained of the lan-
guage, I think I might have read Cassandra or Cleopa-
tra to as good purpose as I read Livy, whom I now
account an equal romancer, though in a different wa}^
From the Coast I went to St. Christopher's ; and
here my idolatrous heart was its own punishment.
The letters I expected from Mrs. N***** were by mis-
take forwarded to iVnti^ua, which had been at first pro-
posed as our port. As I was certain of her punctuality
in writing, if alive, I concluded, by not hearing from
her, that she was surely dead. This fear aifected me
more and more ; I lost my appetite and rest ; I telt an
incessant pain in my stomach; and in about three
weeks time, I was near sinking under the weight of an
imaginary stroke. I felt some severe symptoms ot that
mixture of pride and madness which is commonly call-
ed a broken heart ; and indeed I wonder that this case
is not more common than it appears to be. How
often do the potsherds of the earth presume to contend
with their maker ! and what a wonder of mercy is it
that they are not all broken ! However, my complaint
was not all grief; conscience had a share. I thought
my unfaithfulness to God had deprived me of her, es-
pecially my backwardness in speaking of spiritual things,
which I could hardly attempt even to her. It was this
thought, that I had lost invaluable,irrecoverable opportu-
nities, which both duty and affection should have engaged
me to improve, that chiefly stung me ; and I thought,
I would have given the world to know she was living,
that I might at least discharge my engagements by v\rit-
ing, though I was never to see her again. This was a
sharp lesson ; but I hope it did me good ; and when I
92 Last Voyage to Africa, Let. 13,
had thus suffered some weeks, I thought of sending a
small vessel to Antijiua. I did so ; and she brought me
several packets ; which restored my health and peace,
and gave me a strong contrast of the Lord's goodness
to me, and my unbelief and ingratitude towards him.
In August, 1753, I returned to L . My stay was
very short at home that voyage, only six weeks. In that
space, nothing very memorable occurred ; I shall there-
fore begin my next v\ith an account of my third and last
voyage. And thus I give both you and myself hopes
of a speedy period to these memoirs, which begin to
be tedious and ininiite, even to myself; only I am ani-
mated by the thought, that I write at your request ;
and have therefore an opportunity of showing my-
self, &c.
January 31, 1753.
LETTER Xlir.
Dear Sir,
-Y third voyage was shorter and less perplexed than
either of the former. Before I sailed, I met with a
young man who had formerly been a midshipman, and
my intimate companion on board the Haruich. He was,
at the time I first knew him, a sober youth ; but I found
too much success in my unhappy attempts to infect
him with libertine principles. When we met at L ,
our acquaintance renewed upon the ground of our for-
mer intimacy. He had good sense, and had read many
books. — Our conversation frequently turned upon reli-
gion ; and I was very desirous to repair the mischief I
had done him. I gave him a plain account of the man-
Let. 13. Last Voyage to Africa. 93
ner and reason of my change, and used every argument
to persuade him to relinquish his infidel schemes ; and
when I sometimes pressed him so close, that he had no
other reply to make, he would remind me, that I was
the very first person who had given him an idea of his
liberty. This occasioned me many mournful reflec-
tions. He was then going master to Guinea himself;
but before his ship was ready his merchant became a
bankrupt, which disconcerted his voyage. As he had
no further expectations for that year, I offered to take
him with me as a companion, that he might gain a know-
ledge of the Coast ; and the gentlemen who employed
me promised to provide for him upon his return. My
view in this Mas not so much to serve him in his busi-
ness, as to have an opportunity of debating the point with
him at leisure ; and I hoped, in the course of my voy-
age, my arguments, example, and prayers, might have
some good effect on him. My intention in this step
was better than my judgment ; and I had frequent
reason to repent it. He was exceedingly profane, and
grew worse and worse. I saw in him a most lively pic-
ture of what I had once been ; but it was very inconve-
nient to have it always before my eyes. Besides, he was
not only deaf to my remonstrances himself, but laboured
all he could to counteract my influence upon others. His
spirit and passions were likewise exceeding high; so that
it required all my prudence and authority to hold him in
any degree of restraint. He was as a sharp thorn in my
side for some time ; but at length I had an opportunity
upon the Coast of buying a small vessel, which I supplied
with a cargo from my own, and gave him the command,
and sent him away to trade on the ship's account. When
we parted, I repeated and enforced my best advice.
I believe his friendship and regard was as great as could
94 Last Voyage to Africa. Let, 13.
be expected, where principles were so diametrically op-
posite. He seemed greatly affected when I left him ;
but my words had no weight with him : when he found
himself at liberty from under my eye, he gave a hasty
loose to every appetite ; and his violent irregularities,
joined to the heat of the climate, soon threw him into
a malignant fever, which carried him off in a few days.
He died convinced, but not changed. The account I
had from those who were with him was dreadful. His
rage and despair struck them all with horror ; and he
pronounced his own fatal doom before he expired, with-
out any appearance that he either hoped or asked for
mercy. I thought this awful contrast might not be im-
proper to give you, as a stronger view of the distin-
guishing goodness of God to me, the chief of sin-
ners.
I left the Coast in about four months, and sailed for
St. Christopher's. Hitherto I had enjoyed a perfect
state of health, equally in every climate, for several
years ; but upon this passage I was visited with a fe-
ver, which gave me a very near prospect of eternity.
I have obtained liberty to inclose you three or four let-
ters, which will more clearly illustrate the state and
measure of my experience at different times, than any
thing I can say at present. One of them, you will
find, was wrote at this period, when I could hardly
hold a pen, and had some reason to believe I should
write no more. I had not that TAJipocpopta * which is so
desirable at a time when flesh and heart fails ; but my
hopes were greater than my fears ; and 1 felt a silent
composure of spirit, which enabled me to wait the
event without much anxiety. My trust, though weak
• Full assurance.
Let. 13. Last J'oi/age to Jfrica. 95
in degree, was alone fixed upon the blood and riohte-
ousness of Jesus ; and those words, " He is able to save
" to the uttermost," gave me great relief. 1 was
for a while troubled vvith a very singular thought ; whe-
ther it was a temptation, or that the fever disordered
my faculties, 1 cannot say ; but I seemed not so much
afraid of wrath and punishment, as of being lost, and
overlooked amidst the myriads that are continually en-
tering the unseen world. What is my soul, thought I,
among such an innumerable multitude of beings ?
And this troubled me greatly. Perhaps the Lord will
take no notice of me. 1 was perplexed thus for some
time ; but at last a text of Scripture, very apposite to
the case, occurred to my mind, and put an end to the
douht : " The Lord knoweth them that are his." In
about ten days, beyond the hopes of those about me, I
began to amend ; and by the time of our arrival in the
West Indies, I was perfectly recovered. — I hope this
visitation was made useful to me.
Thus far, that is, for about the space of six years,
the Lord was pleased to lead me in a secret Avay.
I had learned something of the evil of my heart ; I had
read the Bible over and over, with several good books,
and had a general view of the Gospel-tnith : but my
conceptions were, in many respects, confused, not hav-
ing in all this time met with one acquaintance Mho
could assist my inquiries. But upon my arrival at St.
Christopher's this voyage, I found a captain of a ship
from London, v.hose conversation was greatly helpful
to me. He was and is a member of Mr. B r"s
church, a man of experience in the things of God, and
of a lively, communicative turn. We discovered each
other by some casual expressions in mixed company,
and soon became, so far as business would permit, in-
9G Last Voyage to AJ'nca. Let. 13.
separable. For near a Tnonth we spent every evening to-
gether on board each other's ship alternately, and often
prolonged our visits till towards day-break. I was all
ears ; and what uas better, he not only informed my un-
derstanding, but his discourse inflamed my heart. •
He encouraged me to open my mouth in social prayer ;
he taught me the advantage of Christian converse; he put
me upon an attempt to make my profession more pub-
lic, and to venture to speak for God. From him, or
rather from the Lord by his means, I received an in-
crease of knowledge : my conceptions became clearer
and more evangelical ; and I was delivered from a fear
Avhich had long troubled me — the fear of relapsing in-
to my former apostasy. But now I began to under-
stand the security of the covenant of grace, and to ex-
pect to be preserved, not by my own pov.er and holi-
ness, but by the mighty power and promise of God,
through faith in an unchangeable Saviour. He likewise
gave me a general view of the state of religion, with
the errors and controversies of the times, (things to which
I had been entirely a stranger,) and finally directed me
where to apply in London for further instruction. With
these new-acquired advantages, 1 left him ; and my
passage homewards gave me leisure to digest what I
had received. I had much comfort and freedom during
those seven weeks, and my sun was seldom clouded.
I arrived safe in L August ]754.
My stay at home was intended to be but short ; and
by the beginning of November I M'as again ready for
the sea : but the Lord saw fit to over-rule my design.
Durinjj the time I was engaijed in the slave-trade, I
never had the least scruple as to its lawfulness. I Avas
upon the whole satisfied with it, as the appointment
Providence had marked out for me ; yet it was, in
J
Let. 13. Last Voya;^e to Africa. 97
many respects, far from eligible. It is, indeed, ac-
counted a genteel employment, and is usually very pro-
fitable, though to me it did not prove so, the Lord Sv e-
ini£ that a lars^e increase of wealth would not be <»;ood
for me. However, I considered myself as a sort of
gaoler or turnkey, and I was sometimes shocked with
an employment that was perpetually conversant with
chains, bolts, and shackles. In this view I had often
petitioned in my prayers, that the Lord, in his own
time, would be pleased to fix me in a more humane call-
ing ; and, if it might be, place me where 1 might have
more frequent converse with his people and ordinances,
and be freed from those long separations from home
which very often were hard to bear. My prayers
were now answered, though in a way I little expected.
I now experienced another sudden unforeseen change
of life. I was within two days of sailing, and to all ap-
pearance in good health as usual ; but in the afternoon,
as I was sitting with ]\Irs. K*****, by ourselves, drink'-
ing tea, and talking over past events, I was in a mo-
ment seized with a fit, which deprived me of sense and
motion, and left me no other sign of life than that of
breathing. — I suppose it was of the apoplectic kind.— -It
lasted about an hour ; and when I recovered, it left a
pain and dizziness in my head, which continued with
such symptoms as induced the physicians to judge it
would not be safe or prudent for me to proceed on the
voyage. Accordingly, by ihe advice of my friend to
whom the ship belonged, I resigned the command thq
day before she sailed ; and thus I was unexpectedly
called from that service, and freed from a share of the
future consequences of that voyage, which proved ex-
tremely calamitous. The person who went in my room,
most of the officers, and many of the crew. died.
A^u. I. O '
98 LasL loi/agc to Africa. Let. lo.
and the vessel was brought home with great diffi-
culty.
As I was now disenfiaged from business, I left
L- •, and spent most of the following year at Lon-
don and in Kent. But I entered upon a new trial.
You will easily conceive, that Mrs. N***** was
not an unconcerned spectator, when I lay extended,
and as she thought, expiring upon the ground. In ef-
fect, the blow that struck me reached her in the same
instant : she did not indeed immediately feel it, till her
apprehensions on my account began to subside ; but as
I grew better, she became worse : her surprise threw
her into a disorder which no physicians could define,
or medicines remove. Without any of the ordinary
symptoms of a consumption, she decayed almost visi-
bly, till she became so weak, that she could hardly
bear any one to walk across the room she was in. I
was placed for about eleven months in what Dr. Youn^
calls the
dreadful post of ubservation",
Darker every hour.
It was not till after my settlement in my present sta-
tion, that the Lord was pleased to restore her by his
own hand, when all hopes from ordinary means were at
an end. But before this took place, I have some other
particulars to mention, which must be the subject of the
following sheet, which I hope will be the last on this
subject, from, &c.
February 1, 1763.
Let. 14. 'Conclusiun of the XanvUivc. 99
LETTER XIV.
Dear Sir,
B
►Y the directions I had received from my friend at
St. Kitt's, I soon found out a religious acquaintance in
London. I first ap})lied to Mr, 13 -, and chiefly at-
tended upon his ministry when in town. From him I
received many helps, both in public and private ; for
he was pleased to favour me with his friendship from
the first. His kindness, and the intimacy between us,
has continued and increased to this day ; and of all my
many friends, I am most deeply indebted to him. The
late IVIr. H d w as my second acquaintance, a man
of a choice spirit, and an abundant zeal for the Lord's
service. I enjoyed his correspondence till near the time
of his death. Soon after, upon Mr. W- ^d's return
from America, my two good friends introduced me to
him ; and though I had little personal acquaintance with
him till afterwards, his ministry v» as exceeding useful to
me. I had likewise access to some religious societies,
and became known to many excellent Christians in pri-
vate life. Thus, w hen at London, I lived at the foun-
tain-head, as it w^ere, for spiritual advantages. When
1 was in Kent it was very different ; yet 1 found some
serious persons there: but the fine variegated woodland
country afforded me advantages of another kind, JMost
of njy time, at least some hours every day, I passed in
retirement, when the weather was fair ; sometimes in
the thickest woods, sometimes on the highest hills, where
almost every step varied the prospect. It has been
my custom, for many years, to perform my devotional
loo Conclusion of the Narrative, Cct. 14.
exercises sub dio, when I have opportunity ; and I al-
ways find these rural scenes have some tendency both
to refresh and to compose my spirits. A beautiful di-
versified prospect gladdens my heart. When I am
withdrawn from the noise and petty works of men, I
consider myself as in the great temple which the Lord
has built for his own honour.
The country between Rochester and Maidstone, bor-
dering upon the Med way, was well suited to the turn of
my mind ; and was I to go over it now, I could point to
many a place where I remember to have either earnest-
ly sought, or happily found the Lord's comfortable pre-
sence with my soul. And thus I lived, sometimes in
London, and sometimes in the country, till the autumn of
the following year. All this while I had two trials more
or less upon my mind : the first and principal was Mrs.
N*****'s illness ; she still grew worse, and I had daily
more reason to fear that the hour of separation was at
hand. When faith was in exercise, I was in some
measure resigned to the Lord's will ; but too often mv
heart rebelled, and I found it hard either to trust or to
submit. I had likewise some care about my future
settlement: The African trade was overdone that year,
and my friends did not care to fit out another ship till
mine returned. I was some time in suspense; but in-
deed a provision of food and raimnent has seldom been
a cause of great solicitude to me. I found it easier to
trust the Lord in this point than in the former ; and
accordingly this was first answered. In August I re-
ceived an account, that I was nominated to the office
of •. These places are usually obtained, or at
least sought, by dint of much interest and apphca-
tion ; but this came to me unsought and unexpected.
I knew, indeed, my good friend in L — — < had endea-
Let. 14. Conclusion of the Narrai'ive. 101
voured to procure another post for me, but found it
pre-engaged. I tound afterwards, tiitit the place 1 had
missed would have been very unsuitable for me ; and
that this M hich I had no thought of, was the very thing
I could iiave w ishtd for, as it afforded me much leisure,
and the liberty of living in my own w ay. Several cir-
cumstances, unnoticed by others, concurred to show me,
that the good hand of the Lord was as remarkably con-
cerned in this event, as in any other leading turn of mv
life.
But when I gained this point, my distress in the o-
thcr was doubled : I was obliged to leave Mrs. ]\ *****
in the greatest extremity of pain and illness, w hen the
physicians could do no more, and I had no ground of
hope that I should see her again alive, but this, — that
nothing is impossible with the Lord. I had a severe
conflict; but faith prevailed : I found the promise re-
markably fulfilled, of strength proportioned to my need.
The day before I set out, and not till then, the burden
w as entirely taken from my mind ; I was strengthened
to resign both her and myself to the Lord's disposal,
and departed from her in a cheerful frame. Soon af-
ter I was gone, she began to amend, and recovered so
fast, that in about two months I had the pleasure to
meet her at Stone, on her journey to L .
And now I think I have answered, if not exceeded
your desire. Since October \755, we have been com-
fortably settled here ; and all my circumstances have
been as remarkably smooth and uniform, as they were
various in former years. My trials have been light
and few ; — not but that I still find, in the experience
of every day, the necessity of a life of faith. My prin-
cipal trial is — the body of sin and death, which makes
me often to sigh out the Apostle's complaint. " O
1 02 Conclvsion of the Narrative. Let. 14.
*' wretched man !" but with him likewise I can say,
" I thank God through Jesus Christ my Lord." I
live in a barren land, where the knowledge and power
of the Gospel is very low : yet here are a few of the
Lord's people ; and this wilderness lias been a useful
school to me, where I have studied more leisurely the
truths 1 gathered up in London. I brought down with
me a considerable stock of notional truth ; but I have
since found, that there is no effectual teacher but God ;
that we can receive no further than he is pleased to
communicate ; and that no knowledge is truly useful to
me, but what is made my own by experience. Many
things I thought I had learned, would not stand in an
hour of temptation, till I had in this way learned them
over again. Since the year 17.'57, I have had an in-
creasing acquaintance in the West- riding of Yorkshire,
where the Gospel flourishes greatly. This has been a
good school to me : I have conversed at large among
all parties, m ithout joining any ; and in my attempts to
hit the golden meau^ 1 have sometimes been dran n too
near the different extremes ; yet the Lord has enabled
me to profit by my mistakes. In brief, I am still a
learner, and tlie Lord still condescends to teach me.
I bc2;in at lenjith to see that I have attained but very
little ; but I trust in him to carry on his own work in
my soul, and by all the dispensations of his grace and
providence, to increase my knoA^ledge of him, and of
myself.
When I was tixcd in a house, and found my busi-
ness would affoixl me much leisure time, I considered
in what manner I should improve it. And now ha-
ving reason to close with the Apostle's determination,
'' to know nothing but Jesus Christ, and him crucili-
"^ ed," I devoted my life to the prosecution of spiritual
Let. 14. Conclusion of the Narrative. 103
knowledge, and resolved to pursue nothing but in sub-
servience to this main design. This resolution divorced
me, (as I have already hinted,) from the classics and
mathematics. My first attem})t was to learn so much
Greek as would enable me to understand the New
Testament and Septuagint ; and when I had made some
progress this way, I entered upon the Hebrew the fol-
lowing year ; and two years afterwards, having sur-
mised some advantages from the Syriac version, I be-
gan with that language. You must not think that I
have attained, or ever aimed at, a critical skill in any
of these : I had no business with them, but as in re-
ference to something else. I never read one classic
author in the Greek ; I thought it too late in life to
take such a round in this language as I had done in the
Latin. I only wanted the signification of scriptural
words and phrases ; and for this I thought I might
avail myself of Scapula, the Synojms, and others, who
had sustained the drudgery before me. In the He-
brew, I can read the historical books and psalms, w ith
tolerable ease; but in the prophetical and difficult parts,
I am frequently obliged to have recoiu-se to lexicons.
kc. However, I know so much as to be able, with
such helps as are at hand, to judge for myself the
meaning of any passage I have occasion to consult.
Beyond this I do not think of proceeding, if I can find ■
better employment ; for I would rather be some way
useful to others, than die with the reputation of an emi-
nent linguist.
Together with these studies, I have kept up a course
of reading of the best writers in divinity that have come
to my hand, in the Latin and English tongues, and
some French, (for I picked up the French at times while
I used the. sea.) But within these two or three vears,
104; Cofw/uaion of the Narrative. Let. M.
I hav6 accustomed myself chiefly to writing, and have
not found time to read many books besides the Scrip-
tures.
I am the more particular in this account, as my case
has been something singular ; for in all my literary at-
tempts, I have been obliged to strike out my own path,
by tlie light I could acquire from books, as I have not
had a teacher or assistant since I was ten years of age.
One word concerning my views to the ministry, and
I have done. 1 have told you, that this was my dear
mother's hope concerning me ; but her death, and the
scenes of life in which I afterwards engaged, seemed to
cut off the probability. The first desires of this sort in
my own mind, arose many years ago, from a reflection
on Gal. i. 23, 24. " But they had heard only, that he
" which persecuted us in times past, now preacheth the
" faith which once he destroyed. And they glorified
" God in me.'' 1 could not but wish for such a
public opportunity to testify the riches of divine grace.
I thought I was, above most living, a fit person to
proclaim that faithful saying, " That Jesus Christ came
" into the world to save the chief of sinners :" and as
my life had been full of remarkable turns, and I seem-
ed selected to show what the Lord could do, I was in
some hopes, that, perhaps, sooner or later, he might
call me into this service.
I believe it was a distant ho})e of this that determin-
ed me to study the original Scriptures ; but it remained
an imperfect desire in my own breast, till it was re-
commended to me by some Christian friends. I start-
ed at the thought, when first seriously proposed to me,
but afterwards set apart some weeks to consider the
case, to consult mv friends, and to entreat the Lord'^^
direction. — The judgment of my friends, and manv
Let. 14. Cotichisiou of the Narrative. 105
things that occurred, tended to engage me. i\Iy first
thought was to join the Dissenters, from a presumption
that I could not honestly make the required subscrip-
tions ; but Mr. C- •, in a conversation upon these
points, moderated my scruples ; and preferring the estab-
lished church in some other respects, I accepted a title
from him some months afterwards, and solicited ordi-
nation from the late archbishop of York. I need not
tell you I met a refusal, nor what steps I took after-
wards to succeed elsewhere. At present I desist from
my applications. My desire to serve the Lord is not
weakened ; but I am not so hasty to push myself for-
ward as I was formerly. It is sufficient that he knows
how to dispose of me, and that he both can and will do
what is best. To him I commend myself: I trust that
his will and my true interest are inseparable. To his
name be glory for ever. And thus I conclude my
story, and presume you will acknowledge I have been
particular enough. I have room for no more, but to
repeat, that I am, &c.
February 2, 17^3.
VoT. L
FORTY-ONE LETTERS
ON RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS,
NAMELY,
1.
On Trust in God.
^1.
2.
To a Student in Divinity.
S 22.
3.
On 2 Cor. v. 10. and Rom.
0 23.
xiv. 12.
R 24
4.
On Family- Worship.
^ 25.
5.
On the Difficulties attending
y 1
the Ministry.
H 56.
6.
On the Influence of Faith.
V 27.
7.
On a Ministerial Address to
R 28.
the Unconverted.
U 29.
8.
On the inward Witness.
V 30.
9.
On Election and Persever-
Ml-
ance.
y 32.
10,
On Grace in the Blade.
H 33.
11.
On Grace in the Ear.
12.
On Grace in the Full Corn.
0 34.
13.
On Hearing Sermons.
1
14.
On Temptation.
i 35.
15.
A Plan of a Christian Li-
i 36.
brary.
w
16.
On the Inefficacy of Know-
t 37.
ledge
17.
On a Believer's Frames.
w
18.
On Social Prayer.
K S9
19.
On Controversy.
$40.
20.
On Conformity to the World.
H 41.
On Spiritual Blindness.
On a State of Poverty.
On Simplicity and Sincerity.
On Communion with God.
On Faith, and the Commu-
nion of Saints.
On Gospel-Illumination.
On Union with Christ.
On the Divine Guidance.
On kom. viii. 19,20, 21.
On the right Use of the Law.
On Love to the Brethren.
On Candour.
(1) On Man in his Fallen
Estate.
(2) On Man in his Fallen
Estate.
On Phil. iv. 8.
To a Friend on Recovery
from Illness.
On Christian Experience.
On Religion necessary to the
Enjoyments of Life.
A word in Season
I'o Professors in Trade.
On the Ministry of Angels.
109
LETTER I.
On Trust in the Provide7ice of God, and Boievolence
to his Poor.
My Dear Friend,
X HE more I think of the point you proposed to me,
the more I am confirmed to renew the advice I then
save. There is doubtless such a thinsj as Christian
prudence ; but, my friend, beware of counterfeits. Self-
love and the evil heart of unbelief, will endeavour to
obtrude upon us a prudence, so called, which is as op-
posite to the former as darkness to light. I do not
say, that, now you have a wife, and the prospect of a
family, you are strictly bound to communicate with the
poor in the same proportion as formerly. I say, you are
not bound ; for every thing of this sort should proceed
from a willing mind. But if you should tell me, the
Lord has given you such a zeal for his glory, such a
concern for the honour of the Gospel, such a love to
his members, such a grateful sense of his mercies, (es-
pecially by granting you, in this late instance of your
marriage, the desire of your heart,) and such an affiance
in his providence and promises, that you find yourself
very unwilling to be one sixpence in the year less use-
ful than you was before, I could not blame you or dis-
suade you from it. But I do not absolutely advise it ;
because I know not the state of 3'our mind, or what
measure of faith the Lord has given you. Only this I
believe, that when the Lord gives such a confidence, he
will not disappoint it.
110 On Trust in God. Let. 1.
When I look among the professors, yea, among the
ministers of the Gospel, there are few things I see a more
general want of, than such a trust in God as to tempo-
rals, and such a sense of the honour of being permitted
to relieve the necessities of his people, as might dispose
them to a more liberal distribution of what they have at
present in their power, and to a reliance on him for a
sufficient supply in future. Some exceptions there are.
Some persons I have the happiness to know whose
chief pleasure it seems to be, to devise liberal things.
For the most part, we take care, first, to be well sup-
plied, if possible, with all the necessaries, conveniencies,
and not a few of the elegancies of life ; then to have a
snug fund laid up against a rainy day, as the phrase is,
(if this is in an increasing way, so much the better,) that
when we look at children and near relatives, we may
say to our hearts, *' Now they are well provided for."
And when we have gotten all this and more, we are per-
haps content, for the love of Christ, to bestow a pit-
tance o^'our superfluities, a tenth or twentieth part of
what we spend or hoard up for ourselves, upon the
poor. But, alas ! what do we herein more than others ?
■Multitudes who know nothing of the love of Christ, will
do thus much, yea, perhaps, greatly exceed us, from the
mere feelings of humanity.
But it may be asked, would you show no regard
to the possibility of leaving your w'lie, or children unpro-
vided for ? Quite the reverse : I would have you attend
to it very much; and behold, the Scriptures show you
the more excellent way. If you had a little money to
spare, would you not lend it to me, if I assured you it
should be repaid when wanted ? 1 can point out to you
better interest and better security than I could possibly
give you : Prov. xix. 17. " He that bath pity upon the
Let. 1. On Trust in God. Ill
" poor, lendeth unto the Lord : and that which he hath
" given, will he pay him again." What think you of
this text? Is it the word of God, or not? Is he
worthy of belief, or not ? Is he able to make good his
word, or is he not ? I dare stake all my interest in
your friendship, (which I should be very loath to forfeit,)
that if you act upon this maxim, in a spirit of prayer
and faith, and with a single eye to his glory, you shall
not be disappointed. Read over IMatth. vi. 26 — 34.
Shall we confine that reasoning and those promises to
the primitive times? Say not, " If the Lord would
make windows in heaven this thing might be." He
has more ways to bless and prosper those who trust
in him, than we are able to point out to him. But I
tell you, my friend, he will sooner make windows in
heaven, turn stones into bread, yea, stop the sun in his
course, than he will suffer those who conscientiously
serve him, and depend upon him, to be destitute.
Some instances we have had of ministers who have
seemed to transgress the bounds of strict prudence in
their attention to the poor. But they have been men
of faith, prayer, and zeal ; if they did it, not from a
caprice of humour, or a spirit of indolence, but from
such motives as the Scripture suggests and recommends.
I believe their families have seldom suffered for it. I
wish you to consult upon this head, what Mrs. AUeine
says, in the affecting account she has given of that ho-
noured and faithful servant of God, her husband, Jo-
seph AUeine. Besides, you know not what you mav
actually sa-ve in the course of years by this method.
The apostle, speaking of some abuses that obtained in
the church of Corinth, says, " For this cause man^^
" are sick among you." If prudence should shut up
the bowels of your compassion, (which I trust it never
112 On Trust in God. Let. 1.
will,) the Lord might quarter an apothecary upon your
family, vvhich would perhaps cost you twice the money
that would have sufficed to refresh his people, and to
commend your ministry and character.
But if, after all, prudence will be heard, I counsel
you to do these two things. First, Be very certain that
you allow yourselves in nothing superfluous. You can-
not, I trust, in conscience think of laying out one penny
more than is barely decent ; unless you have another
penny to help the poor. Then, secondly. Let your
friends who are in good circumstances, be plainly told,
that, though you love them, prudence, and the neces-
sary charge of a family, will not permit you to entertain
them ; no, not for a night. What ! say you, shut my door
against my friends ? Yes, by all means, rather than
against Christ. If the Lord Jesus was again upon earth
in a state of humiliation, and he, and the best friend
you have, standing at your door, and your provision so
strait that you could not receive both, which would you
entertain? Now, he says of the poor, " Inasmuch as
" ye did it to the least of these my brethren, ye did it
*' unto me."' Your friends have houses of their own,
and money to pay at an inn, if you do not take them in ;
but the poor need relief One would almost think that
passage, Luke xiv. 12 — 14. was not considered as a
part of God's word ; at least I believe there is no one
passage so generally neglected by his own people. I
do not think it unlawful to entertain our friends ; but if
these words do not teach us, that it is in some respects
our duty to give a preference to the poor, I am at a loss
to understand them.
I Avas enabled to set out upon the plan I recommend
to you, at a time when my certain income was much too
scanty for my own provision, and before I had the ex-
],et. 1. On Trnsl in God. 113
pcctation or promise of assistance from any pei'Son upon
earth. Only I knew that the Lord could provide me
with whatever he saw needful ; and I trusted, that ii he
kept me dependent upon liimself, and desirous to live
for his service only, he assuredly Mould do so. I have
as yet seen no cause to repent it. I live upon his pro-
mise ; for as to any present ways or means, every thing
here below is so uncertain, that I consider myself in the
same situation with the bijds ot the air, who have nei-
ther storehouse nor barn. To-day I have enough for
myself, and something to impart to them that need ; as
to futurity, the Lord must provide; and i'or the most
part I can believe he will. I can tell y ju, lion ever, that
now and then my heart is pinched ; unbelief cieeps in,
and self would much rather choose a strong box, or what
the world calls a certainty^ than a lite of absolute de-
pendence upon the providence of God. However, in
my composed hours I am well satisfied. Hitherto he
has graciously taken care of me ; therefore may my
heart trust in him, and not be afraid.
Consider, my friend, the Lord has done well for you
likewise. He has settled you peaceably in a good and
honourable interest ; he has now answered your pray-
ers, in giving you a partner, with whom you may take
sweet counsel, one that will help and strengthen you in
your best desires. Beware, therefore, of that reason-
ing which might lead you to distrust the Lord your
God, or to act as if you did. You complain that
there is too much of an expensive taste among some
persons in your congregation. If you set yourself to
discountenance this, and should at the same time too
closely shut up your hands, they will be ready to
charge you with being governed by the same worldly
spirit, though in another form. If you have been hi-
VoL. I. Q
114 On Trust in God. Let. 1.
therto tender and bountiful to the poor, and should
make too great and too sudden an alteration in this re-
spect, it the blame should not fall upon you, it probably
woulfl upon your wife, who, I believe, would be far Irom
deserving it. If the house which has been open to the
poor in former times, should be shut against them now
you live in it, would it not lead the people's thoughts
back ? Would it not open the mouths of those who do
not love your ministry, to say, That notwithstanding all
your zeal about doctrines, you know how to take care
of your own interest, as well as those whom you have
thought indifferent and lukewarm in the cause of the
Gospel ? Would it not ? But I forbear. I know you
need not such arguments. Yet consider how many
eyes are upon you, watching for your halting. Now,
at your first setting out, is the proper time seriously to
seek the Lord's directions, that you may, from the be-
ginning, adopt such a plan as may be most to your
own comfort, the honour of your character as a mi-
nister, the glory of him who has called you, and the
edification of your people. It is easier to begin well,
than to make alterations afterwards. I trust the Lord
will guide and bless you in your deliberations. And
for my own part, I am not in the least afraid that you
will ever have cause to blame me for the advice I have
given, if you should be disposed to follow it.
I have given you my opinion freely, and perhaps with
an appearance of more strictness than is necessary. But
I would apply our Lords words in another case to this :
" All men cannot receive this saying ; he that is able to
" receive it, let him receive it." If the Lord has given
you this confidence in his word, you are happy. It is
better than the possession of thousands by the year.
I am, t>cc.
Let. 2. To a SludcJit in Dhmitij, US
LETTER II.
Extract of a Letter to a Student vt Divinity.
Dear Sir,
X HE subject of your last is important. I can sympa-
thize v\ith your anxiety, liaving knovvn much of it my-
self, and therefore willingly devote my first leisure to
your service. But shall I indeed condole with you ? or
shall I rather congratulate you on the perplexity you
complain of? I know it is not pleasing; but I hope it
will be sanctified and profitable to you.
Though I am no enemy to the acquisition of useful
knowledge, I have seen many instances of young men
who have been much hurt by what they expected to
reap advantage from. They have gone to the academy
humble, peaceable, spiritual, and lively ; but have come
out self- wise, dogmatical, censorious, and full of a pru-
dence founded upon the false maxims of the world. I
have been ready to address them with that line of Mil-
ton : %
" If thou art he— But ah ! how fall'n !'*
I do not mention this as the necessary fault of the
institution, but as the frequent effect of notions too
hastily picked up, when not sanctified by grace, nor
balanced by a proportionable depth of spiritual expe-
rience. I am therefore glad to hear, that notwith-
standino; the advantages you have had in the pursuit of
your studies, you feel an inward conviction, that you
116 To a Student inBivinitij. Let. 2,
still need something ^\ hich you cannot receive from
men or books, in order to complete your fitness for
the ministry ; that you may be " a workman that needs
" not to be ashamed," and enabled rightly to divide,
(to distinguish and distribute,) the word of truth.
It seems to me a point of more curiosity than use,
to inquire too nicely into the modus of the Holy Spirit's
assistance in the composure and delivery of sermons.
If we cannot exactly state the boundaries between "what
we may deem the result of our own thouizhts, and the
needful influence of the Holy Spirit, it seems a safe
^ way to give him the honour of the Avhole, and to at-
tribute nothino; to ourselves but our infirmities. If we
liave a capacity, means for improvement, diligence to
make use of those means, and if that diligence is at-
tended with any degree of success ; may we not ac-
knowledge, that the former links of this chain are the
effect of his goodness and favour no less than the
latter ?
To the question, How far is it lawful to expect this
assistance ? I answer, It is lawful very far, even to lay
the whole stress upon it, so as to be firmly persuaded
that we can neither meditate or speak to purpose with-
out it ; that if we have not this assistance, whatever else
we have, or may think we have, we shall but " darken
'' counsel by words without knowledge." For this, I
think, I have warrant in John xv. 5. If any person
supposes he has so far mastered a system of divinity,
that though he can indeed do better with the Spirit's
assistance, yet he can make a tolerable shift without it,
I envy him not this attainment.
But if the question intends, How far a dependence
upon the Holy Spirit may lawfully supersede the use
of means? I answer, Xot in the least. The blessing
Let. 2. To a Student in Divmitij. llf
and the means are so closely united, that they cannot
be separated. The blessing may be surely expected,
if diligently sought in the use of proper means, and we
have no just reason to expect it without them. But to
clear up the whole, let it be considered, what may de-
serve the name of diligence in this matter ? and what
are the proper means ?
By diligence, I understand Sphitual diligence. Such
an active, improving, industrious habit, as is peculiar
to a heart impressed with some real abiding sense of
the love of God, the worth of souls, the shortness of
time, and the importance of eternity. Without this
turn of mind, though a man should spend sixteen hours
every day in his study, he may be a mere trifler. The
greatest part of his application will be spent on what is
least necessary, and his knowledge will chiefly prove of
that sort w hich pufFeth up, without communicating any
real benefit: Gen. xli. 21.; Psalm cxxvii. 2.
The chief means for attaining wisdom, and suitable
gifts for the ministry, are the holy Scriptures, and
prayer. Tiie one is the fountain of living water, the
other the bucket w ith which we are to draw. And I
believe you will find, by observation, that the man who
is most frequent and fervent in prayer, and most de-
voted to the word of God, will shine and flourish above
his fellows. Next to these, and derived from them, is
meditation. Bv this, I do not mean a stated exercise
upon some one particular subject, so much as a dispo-
sition of mind to observe carefully what passes within
us and around us, w hat we see, hear, and feel, and to
apply all for the illustration and confirmation of the
written word to us. In the use of these means, and an
humble dependence upon the Lord in all the changing
dispensations we pass through, our spiritual experience
118 To a Student in Divinitij. Let. ^.
will enlarge ; and this experience is the proper fund of
our ministerial capacity, so tar as it may be considered
inherent in us : Prov. xvi. 23. ; Matth. xiii. 52. ; 1
John i. 3.
These means are of universal importance. The
Avisest can do nothing without them ; the weakest shall
not use them in vain. There are likewise subordinate
means, which may be helpful, and should in general be
attended to. Yet they ought not, I apprehend, to be
considered as a .s7//e qua iwnAn a minister's call and
iitness. The first preachers had them not, and some
in the present day are enabled to do well without them.
Under this head, I principally intend all that comes
under the usual denomination of literature. A compe-
tent acquaintance with the learned languages, history,
natural philosophy, &c. is very desirable. If these
things are held in a proper subserviency, if they do not
engross too much of our time, nor add fuel to the fire
of that self-importance which is our great snare ; they
may contribute to increase and enlarge our ideas, and
facilitate our expressing ourselves with propriety. But
these attainments, (like riches,) are attended with their
peculiar temptations ; and unless they are under the re-
gulation of a sound judgment, and a spiritual frame of
mind, will prove, (like Saul's armour to David,) rather
cumbersome than useful in preaching. The sermons
of preachers thus qualified are often more ingenious
than edifying, and rather set off the man, than com-
mend the Gospel of Christ.
As you desire my advice a\ ith respect to your future
studies, I shall comply without hesitation or ceremony.
The original Scriptures well deserve your pains, and
will richly repay them. There is doubtless a beauty,
fulness, and spirit, in the originals, which the best
Let. 2. To a Student in Divinity. il9
translations do not always express. Vvlien a word or
phrase admits ot various senses, the translators can only
preserve one ; and it is not to be supposed, unless they
Avere perfectly under the influence of the same intaili-
ble Spirit, that they should always preler the best.
Only be upon your guard, lest you should he tempted
to think, that because you are master of the gramujati-
cal construction, and can tell the several acceptations
of the words in the best authors, you are therefore and
thereby master of the spiritual sense likewise. This
you must derive from your experimental knowledge,
and the influence and teaching of the Spirit of God.
Another thing which will much assist you in com-
posing and speaking properly and acceptably, is logic.
This will teach you what properly belongs to your sub-
ject, and what may be best suppressed ; and likewise
to explain, divide, enumerate, and range your ideas to
advantage. A lax, immethodical, disproportionate man-
ner, is to be avoided. Yet, beware of the contrary ex-
treme. An affected starchness and over accuracy will
fetter you, will make your discourses lean and drv,
preclude an useful variety, and savour more of the
school-lamp, than of that heavenly fire w hich alone can
make our meditations efficacious and profitable, eitiier
to ourselves or our hearers. The proper medium can
hardly be taught by rule ; experience, observation, and
prayer, are the best guides.
As your inquiry seems chiefly to be, How^ to fill up
your outlines ; I would advise you to study the living
as well as the dead, or rather more. Converse much
with experienced Christians and exercised souls. You
will find advcuitage in this respect, not only from the
wise, but from the weak of the flock. In the course
of your acquaintance, you will meet with some in a
120 To a Student in Diviniiij. Let. 2.
backsliding state, some under temptations, some walk-
ing in darkness, others rejoicing in the light, &c. Ob-
serve how their spirits work, what they say, and how
they reason in their several cases ; what methods and
arguments you find most successful in comforting the
feeble-minded, raising up those who are cast down, and
the like, and what answers they return. Compare these
with the word of God, and your own heart. What
you observe of ten persons in these different situations,
may be applied to ten thousand. For though some
circumstances vary, theijeart of man, the aids of grace,
and the artifices of Satan, in general, are universally
the same. And whenever you are to preach, remem-
ber, that some of all these sorts will probably be before
you, and each should have something said to their own
peculiar case.
The tempted and distressed will be most probably
relieved, by opening the various states and exercises of
the heart, and by showing from scriptural and other
examples, that no new thing has befallen them. The
careless and backsliders, Avho have made a profession,
should be reminded of that blessedness they once spoke
of, and warned of their danger. Those who are now
upon the mount, should be cautioned to expect a
change, and to guard against security and spiritual
pride. To the dead in trespasses and sins, (some such
will be always present,) it is needful to preach the spi-
rituality and sanction of the law, tliat they may be stir-
red up to seek to Jesus. Of him all awakened souls
love to hear much. Let him therefore be your capital
subject. If you discuss some less essential topic, or
bend all your strength to clear up some dark text,
though you should display much learning and ingenui-
ty, you will probably fall short of your main design,
Let. 2. To a StudcM in Divimt)/. 12.1
which I dare say will be to promote the glory of God,
and the good of souls.
You will likewise find advantage, by attending as
much as you can on those preachers whom God has
blessed with much power, life, and success in their mi-
nistry. And in this you will do well not to confine
yourself to any denomination or party, for the Spirit of
the Lord is not confined. DitFerent men have diiFer-
ent gifts and talents. I would not wish you to be a
slavish admirer of any man. Christ alone is our mas-
ter and teacher. But study the excellencies of each ;
and if you observe a fault in any, (for no human mo-
dels are perfect J you will see what you are yourself to
avoid.
Your inquiries respecting my own experience on this
subject, must be answered very briefly. I have long
since learnt, that if I was ever to be a minister, faith
and prayer must make me one. I desire to seek the
Lord's direction, both in the choice and management
of subjects ; but I do not expect it in a way of extraor-
dinary impulse, but in endeavouring to avail myself, to
the best of my judgment, of present circumstances.—
The converse I have with my people, usually suggests
what I am to preach to them. At first, my chief soli-
citude used to be, what I should find to say : I hope it
is now, rather, that I may not speak in vain. For the
Lord has sent me here, not to acquire the character of
a ready speaker, but to win souls to Christ, and to edify
his people. As to preparation, I make little use of
books, excepting the Bible and Concordance. Though
I preach without notes, I most frequently write more
or less upon the subject. Often when I begin, I am at
a loss how I shall proceed ; but one thing insensibly of-
fers after another, and, in general, I believe the best and
Vol. r. R
122 To a Student in Divinity. Let. 2",
most useful parts of my sermon occur dc novo m hile 1
am preaching. This reminds me of Luther's maxim,
Bene preccisse est bent stiiduisse. When I can find my
heart in frame and liberty for prayer, every thing else
is comparatively easy.
I should be very glad if any thing 1 have offered
may afford you satisfaction. The sum of my advice is
this : Examine your heart and views. Can you appeal
to him who knows all things, concerning the sincerity of
your aim, that you devote yourself to the work of the
ministry, not for worldly regards, but \vith an humble
desire to promote the Redeemer's kingdom r If so, and
his providence has thus far concurred with you, trust
him for your sufficiency of every kind, and he w ill not
disappoint you, but will be near to strengthen you ac-
cording to your day. Depend not upon any cisterns
vou can hew out for yourself, but rejoice that you have
liberty to come to the fountain that is always full, and
always flowing. You must not expect a mechanical
sufficiency, such as artificers acquire by habit and ex-
ercise in their business. When you have preached well
nineteen times, this will be no security for the twen-
tieth. Yea, when you have been upheld for twenty
years, should the Lord withhold his hand, you would
be as much at a loss as at first.
If you lean upon books or men, or upon your own
faculties and attainments, you will be in fear and in
danger of falling continually. But if you stay yourself
upon the Lord, he will not only make good your ex-
pectations, but in time will give you a becoming confi-
dence in his goodness, and free you from your present
anxiety.
One thins more I must mention as belouiijinii to the
subject: That a comfortable freedom for public ser-
Let. 3. On 2 Cor. v. 10. and Horn. xiv. 12. 123
vice depends much upon the spirituality of our walk
before God and man. Wisdom will not dwell w ith a
triflino;, an assuming, a censorious, or a worldly spirit.
But if it is our business, and our pleasure, to contem-
plate Jesus, and to walk in his steps, he will bless us,
we shall be like trees planted by a constant stream, and
he will prosper the work of our hands.
I am, &c.
LETTER III.
A Letter to a Frieiul, on the Question, Whether the Sins of
Believers shall be publicly declared at the great Day ? Or
how are zee to nfulcrstand the Apostle^s Assertion^ " We
" must all appear before the Judgment-seat of Christ;
" that every one may receive the Things done in his Body^
" according to that he hath doiie, ivhether it be good or
" bad^'' 2 Cor. v. 10. compared with Roni. xiv. 12.
My Dear Sir,
.Y heart congratulates you. What changes and
events many in younger life may be reserved to see,
who can tell ? bat your pilgrimage is nearly finished.-—
You stand upon the river's brink, with the city full in
view, availing and wishing for the appointed hour : you
need not be anxious concerning your passage, for every
circumstance attending it is already adjusted by infinite
wisdom and love, and the King himself will be ready
to receive you. While you continue here, I am glad
to hear from you, and should be glad to contribute in
any way or degree to your satisfaction, or even to show
my willingness, if I can do no more. I can propose
little more than the latter^ by offering my thoughts on
124 On 2 Cor. v. 10. and Jlom. xir. 12. Let. 3.
the subject you propose from 2 Cor. v. 10. and the
apparent diHiculty of understanding that passage, in
full harmony with the many texts which seem expressly
to assert, that the sins of believers are so forgiven as
to be remembered no more.
There is doubtless, (as you observe,) a perfect con-
sistence in every part of the word of God ; the difficul-
ties we meet with are A^diolly owing to the narrowness
of our faculties, and the ignorance which in some de-
gree is inseparable from our present state of imperfec-
tion. And we may, in general, rest satisfied with the
thought that there is a bright moment approaching,
when the veil shall be wholly taken away. It is the
part of faith to rest upon the plain declarations of Scrip-
ture, without indulging a blameable curiosity of know-
ing more than is clearly revealed ; yet while we humbly
depend upon divine teaching, it is right to aim at as
enlarged a sense of what is revealed as we can attain
to. Every acquisition of this kind is more valuable
than gold, especially respecting those points which have
an immediate tendency to comfort and support us un-
der the view of an approaching dissolution ; the ques-
tion you have proposed is undoubtedly of this nature.
May the Lord direct my thoughts and pen, that I
may not " darken counsel by words without know-
" ledge !" — I have been looking over the passage you re-
fer to in Dr. Ridgley, and think I might be well excused
from saying any thing further on the subject, as he hath
briefly and fully stated all the arguments that have oc-
curred to me on either side of the question, and closes
with a proper caution not to be peremptory in deter-
mining, lest by attempting to be wise above what is
written, I should betray my own folly. — Yet as you
desire to have my tiiouglitS;, I must say something. — I
Let. 3. On 2 Cor. \\ 10. and Rom. xiw 12. i:^'S
wish I may not give you reason to think that this cau-
tion has been lost upon me.
I think all the great truths in which we are concern-
ed, are clearly and expressly laid down, not only in
one, but in many places of Scripture ; but it sometimes
happens, that here and there we meet with a text,
which, in the first and ob\ ious sound of the words,
seems to speak differently from what is asserted more
largely elsewhere ; which texts, singly taken, afford
some men their only ground for the hypothesis they
maintain. Thus the Arians lay a great stress on John
xiv. 28. and the Arminians on James ii. 24. &c. But
their true interpretation is to be sought according to
the analogy of faith. They are capable of a sense a-
greeable to the others, though the others are not intel-
ligible in the sense they would fix upon these. In like
manner I would say, whatever may be the precise
meaning of 2 Cor. v. 10. we are sure it cannot be de-
signed to weaken what we are taught in almost every
page, of the free, absolute, and unalterable nature of a
believer's justification ; the benefit of which, as to the
forsiveness of sin, is signified by the phrases of " blot-
" ting out," — " not remembering," — " casting behind
*' the back," — and "into the depths of the sea." — The
sins of a believer are so effectually removed, that even
when, or if they are sought for, they cannot be found.
For Jesus has borne them away : believers are complete
in him, and clothed in his righteousness. — They shall
stand before God without spot or wrinkle. Wlio shall
lay any thing to their charge r
But it is probable that those stray expressions chief-
ly, if not entirely, respect the guilt, imputation, and de-
served consequences of sin. — None can suppose that
the Lord Avill or can forget the sins of his people, or
126 On 2 Cor. v. 10. and Horn. xiv. 12. Let. 3.
that they can be ever hid from his all comprehendino-
view. Neither can I think they themselves will forget
them. Their song is founded upon a recollection of
their sins and their circumstances in this life, Rev. v. 9.
and their love, and consequently their happiness, seems
inseparably connected with the consciousness of what
ihey were, and what they had done, Luke vii. 47.
And I think those are the sweetest moments in this life,
when we have the clearest sense of our own sins, pro-
vided the sense of our acceptance in the Beloved is
proportionably clear, and we feel the consolations of
his love, notwithstandins; all our transgressions. When
we arrive in glory, unbelief and fear will cease for ever ;
our nearness to God, and communion with him, will
be unspeakably beyond what we can now conceive.
Therefore the remembrance of our sins will be no a-
batement of our bliss, but rather the contrary. When
Pharaoh and his host were alive, and pursuing them,
the Israelites were terrified ; but afterwards, when they
saw their enemies dead upon the shore, their joy and
triumph were not abated, but heightened, by the con-
sideration of their number.
With respect to our sins being made known to others,
I acknowledge with you, that I could not now bear to
have any of my fellow-creatures made acquainted with
what passes in my heart for a single day ; but I appre-
hend it is a part and a proof of my present depravity,
that I feel myself disposed to pay so great a regard to
the judgment of men, while I am so little affected with
what I am in the sight of the pure and holy God. But
I believe that hereafter, when self shall be entirely rooted
out, and my will perfectly united to the divine will, I
should feel no reluctance, supposing it for the manifest-
ation of his glorious grace, that men, angels, and devils.
Let. 3. On 2 Cor. v. 10. aJid Rom. xiv. 12. 127
should know the very worst of me. Wiiether it will be
so or no, I dare not determine. Perhaps the difficulty
chiefly lies in the necessity of our being at present taught
heavenly things by earthly. In the descriptions we have
of the great day, allusion is made to w hat is most so-
lemn in human transactions. The ideas of the judg-
ment-seat, the great trumpet, of the books being opened^
and the pleadings, Matth. xxv. ^7 — 44. seem to be
borrowed from the customs that obtained amongst men
to help our weak conceptions, rather than justly and
fully to describe what will be the real process. — Now^,
when we attempt to look into the unseen world, we
carry our ideas of time and place, and sensible objects,
along with us ; and we cannot divest ourselves of them, or
provide ourselves with better : yet perhaps they have as
little relation to the objects we aim at, as the ideas which
a man born blind acquires from what he hears and feels,
have to the true nature of light and colours. Mr. Locke
mentions one, who, after much thought and conversa-
tion, supposed he had got a tolerable notion oi scarlet^
and that it was something nearly resembling the sound
of a trumpet. Perhaps this is no improper emblem of
the utmost we can attain to, when we are endeavouring
to realize the solemnities of the judgment-day. What
Me mean by memory and reasoning, may possibly have
no place in the world of spirits. We guess at some-
thing more suitable, perhaps, when we use the term
intuition. But I apprehend we must die before we can
fully understand what it signifies : perhaps thoughts
may be as intelligible there as words are here.
In a word, my dear Sir, if I have not given you satis-
faction, (I am sure I have not satisfied mj^self,) accept
my apology in the words of a much wiser, and an in-
spired man : " Such knowledge is too wonderful for me :
128 0?i Family^oorship. Let. 4»
" it is hisli, I cannot attain unto it." Ere lonjj we
shall know : in the mean while our cause is in sure
hands ; we have a Shepherd who will guide us below,
an Advocate who will receive and present us before
the throne above. I trust we meet daily before the
throne of grace, hereafter we shall meet in glory. The
paper w ill allow no more.
Believe me yours in the Lord, &c.
LETTER IV.
To Theron, on Family-xvorship.
Sir,
J\. NEGLECT of family- prayer, is, 1 am afraid, too
common amongst professors in this day. I am glad
that you consider it both as a duty and a privilege.,
and are by grace determined, that when you shall com-
mence master of a family, you will worship God with
all your house. It was Abraham's commendation, that
he not only served the Lord himself, 4)ut was solicitous
that his children and household might serve him like-
wise. I trust that he avIio inclines your heart to walk in
the footsteps of faithful Abraham, will bless you in the
attempt, and give you peace in your dwelling ; a mercy
which is seldom enjoyed, which indeed can hardly be
expected, by those families which call not upon the
Lord.
Though I readily comply with your request, and
should be glad if I can offer any thing that may assist
or animate you in your good purpose, I am afraid I shall
not answer your expectations with regard to the parti-
Let. 4. On Family-ivorship. 129
culars of your inquiry, concerning the most proper
method of conducting family-worship. The circum-
stances of families are so various, that no determinate
rules can be laid down, nor has the word of God pre-
scribed any; because, being of universal obligation, it is
wisely and graciously accommodated to suit the dif-
ferent situations of iiis people. You must therefore,
as to circumstantials, judge for yourself. You will do
well to pursue such a method as you shall find most
convenient to yourself and famil}-, without scrupulously
binding yourself, when the Scripture has left you free.
We have no positive precept enjoining us any set
time for prayer, nor even how often we should prav,
either in public or private ; though the expressions of
" continuing instant in prayer," " praying without ceas-
" ing," and the like, plainly intimate that prayer should
be frequent. Daniel prayed three times a-day ; which
the Psalmist speaks of as his practice likewise ; and in
one place declares his purpose of praising God seven
times p,-day. This last expression is perhaps indefi-
nite, not precisely seven times, but very often. Indeed,
a person who lives in the exercise of faith and love,
and who finds by experience that it is good for him to
draw nigh to God, will not want to be told how often
he must pray, any more than how often he must con-
verse with an earthly friend. Those whom we love,
we love to be much with. Love is the best casuist,
and either resolves or prevents a thousand scruples
and questions, which may perplex those who only serve
God from principles of constraint and fear. And a
believer will account those his happiest days, when he
has most leisure and most liberty of spirit for the exer-
cise of prayer. However, I think family-prayer cannot
be said to be stated^ unless it be performed at least
\o^.. I. S
130 On Familij-ivorsJiij). Let. 4.
daily, and, when unavoidable hindrances do not pre-
vent, twice a-day. Though all times and seasons are
alike to the Lord, and his ear is always open whenever
we have a heart to call upon him ; yet to us there is a
peculiar suitableness in beginning and closing the day
with prayer : in the morning, to acknowledge his good-
ness in our preservation through the niglit, and entreat
his presence and blessing on our persons and callinffs in
the course of the day ; and at night, to praise him for
the mercies of the day past, to humble ourselves before
him for what has been amiss, to wait on him for a
renewed manifestation of his pardoning love, and to
commit ourselves and our concerns to his care and
protection while we sleep. You will, of course, choose
those hours when you are least liable to be incom-
moded by the calls of business, and when the family
can assemble with the most convenience ; only I would
observe, that it greatly preserves regularity and good
order in a house, to keep constantly to the same hours
Mhen it is practicable ; and likewise, that it is best not
to defer evening-prayer till late, if it can be well avoid-
ed ; lest some who join in the exercise, and perhaps the
person himslf who leads in it, should be too weary or
sleepy to give a due attention. On this account, I should
advise to have family- prayer before supper, where peo-
ple have the choice and disposal of their own hours.
I think, with you, that it is very expedient and pro-
per that reading a portion of the word of God should
be ordinarily a part of our family-worship ; so likewise
to sing a hymn or psalm, or part of one, at discretion ;
provided there are some persons in the family who have
enouiih of a musical ear and voice to conduct the sing-
ing in a tolerable manner ; otherwise perhaps it may be
better omitted. If you read and sing, as well as i)ray.
Let. 4. On Famili/'worship. 131
care should be taken that the combined services do not
run into an inconvenient length.
The chief thing to be attended to is, that it may be
a spiritual service ; and the great evil to be dreaded
and guarded against in the exercise of every duty that
returns frequently upon us, is formality. If a stated
course of family-prayer is kept up as constantly in its
season as the striking of the clock, it may come in time
to be almost as meciianically performed, unless we are
continually looking to the Lord to keep our hearts
alive. It most frequently happens, that one or more
members of a family are unconverted persons. When
there are sucli present, a great regard should be had to
them, and every thing conducted with a view to their
edification, that they may not be disgusted or wearied,
or tempted to think that it is little more than the fash-
ion or custom of the house ; which will probably be
the case, unless the master of the family is lively and
earnest in performance of the duty, and likewise cir-
cumspect and consistent in every part of his behaviour
at other times. By leading in the worship of God be-
fore children, servants, or strangers, a man gives bond,
(as it were,) for his behaviour, and adds strength to
every other motive which should engao-e him to abstain
irom all appearance of evil. It should be a constant
check upon our language and tempers in the presence
of our families, to consider tliat we began the day, and
propose to end it with them in prayer. The apostle
iV'ter uses tliis argument to inliuence the conduct of
husliands and wives towards each other ; and it is equal-
ly applicable to all the members of a family ; " Ihat
" your prayers be not hindered ;" that is, either pre-
vented and put oft", or despoiled of all life and efficacy
by the ferment of sinful passions. On tiie ottier hand..
132 On Famihj-vcorship. Let. 4.
the proper exercise of family-prayer, when recommend-
ed by a suitable deportment, is a happy means of in-
structing children and servants in the great truths of re-
ligion, of softening their prejudices, and inspiring them
with a temper of respect and affection, which will dis-
pose them to cheerful obedience, and make them un-
willing to grieve or offend. In this instance, as in every
other, we may observe, that the Lord's commands to
his people are not arbitrary appointments, but that, so
far as they are conscientiously complied with, they have
an evident tendency and suitableness to promote our
own advantage. He requires us to acknowledge him
in our families, for our own sakes ; not because he has
need of our poor services, but because we have need of
his blessing, and without the influence of his grace,
(which is promised to all who seek it,) are sure to be
unhappy in ourselves and in all our connexions.
When husband and wife are happily partakers of the
same faith, it seems expedient, and for their mutual
good, that, besides their private devotions, and joining
in family- prayer, they should pray together. They
have many wants, mercies, and concerns, in common
"\\'ith each other, and distinct from the rest of the fami-
ly. The manner in which they should improve a little
time in this joint exercise, cannot well be prescribed by
a third person ; yet I will venture to suggest one thing;
and the rather, as I do not remember to have met with
it in print. I conceive that it may prove much to their
comfort to pray alternately, not only the husband with
and for the wife, but the wife with and for the husband.
The Spirit of God, by the Apostle, has expressly re-
strained women from the exercise of spiritual gifts in
public ; but I apprehend the practice I am speaking of
can no way interfere with that restriction. I suppose
Let. 4. 071 Familij-icorship. 133
them in private together, and then I judge it to be
equally right and proper for either of them to pray ^vith
the other. Nor do I meet any thing in St. Paul's writ-
ings to prevent my thinking, that if he had been a mar-
ried man, he would, though an apostle, have been glad
of the prayers of his wife. If you ask, how often they
should pray together? I think the oftencr the better,
provided it does not break in upon their duties ; once
a-day at least ; and if there is a choice of hours, it
might be as well at some distance from their other sea-
.sons of worship. But I would observe, as before, that
in matters not expressly commanded, prudence and ex-
perience must direct.
I have written upon a supposition that you use ex-
tempore prayer ; but as there are many heads of fami-
lies who fear the Lord, and have not yet attained li-
berty to pray extempore before others, I would add.
that their inability in this respect, whether real, or whe-
ther only proceeding from fear, and an undue regard to
self, will not justify them in the omission of family-
prayer. Helps may be procured. Mr. Jenks's Devo-
tions are in many hands, and I aoubt not but there are
other excellent books of the same kind, with which I
am not acquainted. If they begin with a form, not
with a design to confine themselves always to one, but
make it a part of their secret pleading at the throne of
grace, that they may be favoured with the gift and
spirit of prayer ; and accustom themselves, while they
use a form, to intersperse some petitions of their own ;
there is little doubt but they will in time find a growth
in liberty and ability, and at length lay their book en-
tirely aside. For it being every believer's duty to wor-
ship God in his family, his promise may be depended
134 On Pamtly-ioorship. Let. 4.
upon, to give them a sufficiency in all things, for those
services which he requires of them.
Happy is that family where the worship of God is
constantly and conscientiously maintained. Such houses
are temple.'; in which the Lord dwells, and castles gar-
risoned by a divine power. I do not say, that by ho-
nouring God in your house, you w ill wholly escape a
share in the trials incident to the present uncertain state
of things. A measure of such trials will be necessary
for the exercise and manifestation of 3'our graces, to
give you a more convincing proof of the truth and
sweetness of the promises made to a time of affliction,
to mortify the body of sin, and to u ean you more ef-
fectually from the world. But this I will confidently
say, that the Lord Avill both honour and conjfort those
who thus honour him. Seasons will occur, in which
you shall know, and probably your neighbours shall be
constrained to take notice, that he has not bid you seek
him in vain. If you meet w ith troubles, they shall be
accompanied by supports, and followed by deliverance ;
and you shall, upon many occasions, experience that he
is your protector, preserving you and yours from the
evils by which you will see others. suffering around you.
I have rather exceeded the limits I proposed, and
therefore shall only add a request, that in your ad-
dresses at the throne of grace, you will remember,
&c.
Let. 5. On Difficulties^ Src. attending the Mimstn/. 135
LETTER V.
On the Snares and Difficult ies attending the Ministry,
oj the Gospel.
Dear Sir,
I
AM glad to hear that you are ordained, and that the
Lord is about to ti\ you in a place where there is a
prospect of your being greatly useful. He has given
you the desire of your heart ; and I hope he has given
you likewise a heart to devote yourself, witliout reserve,
to tiis service, and the service of souls for his sake. I
■willingly comply with your request ; and shall, without
ceremony, offer you such thoughts as occur to me up-
on this occasion.
You have, doubtless, often anticipated in your mind
the nature of the service to w hich you are now called,
and made it the subject of much consideration and
prayer. But a distant view of the ministry is gene-
rally very different from what it is found to be when
we are actually engaged in it. The young soldier,
who has never seen an enemy, may form some gene-
ral notions of what is before him ; but his ideas will
be much more lively and diversified when he comes
upon the field of battle. If the Lord was to show us
the whole beforehand, who that has a due sense of his
own insufficiencv and weakness, would venture to en-
gage ? But he first draws us by a constraining sense of
his love, and by giving us an impression of the worth
of souls, and leaves us to acquire a knowledge of what
is ditficu't and disagreeable by a gradual experience.
The ministry of the Gospel, like the book which the
136 On the Snares awl Difficulties Let. 5.
Apostle John ate, is a bitter sweet ; but the sweetness
is tasted first, the bitterness is usually known after-
wards, when we are so far engaged that there is no
ijoino; back.
Yet I would not discoura2;e you : it is a good and
noble cause, and we serve a good and gracious blaster ;
who, though he will make us feel our weakness and
vileness, will not suffer us to sink under it. His grace
is sufficient for us : and if he favours us with an hum-
ble and dependent spirit, a single eye, and a simple
heart, he will make every difficulty give way, and moun-
tains shall sink into plains before his power.
You have known somethinsj of Satan's devices while
you were in private life ; how he has envied your pri-
vileges, assaulted your peace, and laid snares for your
feet: though the Lord would not suffer him to hurt
you, he has permitted him to sift and tempt, and shoot
his fiery arrows at you. Without some of this disci-
pline, you would have been very unfit for that part of
your office which consists in speaking a word in season
to weary and heavy-laden souls. But you may now
expect to hear from him, and to be beset by his power
and subtilty in a different manner. You are now^ to
be placed in the forefront of the battle, and to stand as
it were for his mark : so far as he can prevail against
you now, not yourself only, but many others, will be
atfectcd : many eyes will be upon you ; and if you take
a wrong step, or are ensnared into a wrong spirit, you
will open the mouths of the adversaries wider, and
grieve the hearts of believers more sensibly than if the
same things had happened to you while you was a lay-
man. The work of the ministry is truly honourable ;
but, like tlie post of honour in a battle, it is attended
with peculiar dangers : therefore the apostle cautions
Let. 5. attending the MiTUstry. 137
Timothy, " Take heed to thyself, and to thy doctrine."
To thyself in the first place, and then to ^hy doctrine;
the latter without the former would be impracticable
and vain.
You have need to be upon your guard in whatever
way your first attempts to preach the Gospel may seem
to operate. If you should, (as may probably be the
case, where the truth has been little known,) meet with
much opposition, you will perhaps find it a heavier trial
than you are aware of; but I speak of it only as it might
draw forth your corruptions, and give Satan advantage
against you : and this may be two ways ; first, by em-
bittering your spirit against opposers, so as to speak in
anger, to set them at defiance, or retaliate upon them in
their own way ; which, besides bringing guilt upon your
conscience, would of course increase your difficulties,
and impede your usefulness. A violent opposition
against ministers and professors of the Gospel is some-
times expressed by the devil's roaring, and some people
think no good can be done without it. It is allowed,
that men who love darkness will show their dislike of the
light : but, I believe, if the wisdom and meekness of the
friends of the Gospel had been always equal to their
good intentions and zeal, the devil would not have had
opportunity of roaring so loud as he has sometimes
done. The subject-matter of the Gospel is offence
enough to the carnal heart; we must therefore expect
opposition : but we should not provoke or despise it, or
do any thing to aggravate it. A patient continuance
in well-doing, a consistency in character, and an atten-
tion to return kind offices for hard treatment, will, in a
course of time, greatly soften the spirit of opposition ;
and instances are to be found of ministers, who are
treated with some respect even by those persons in
Vol. T. T
138 On the Simres ami DiJjlcuUlcs Let. 5.
their parishes who are most averse to their doctrine.
When the apostle directs us, " If it be possible, and as
" much as in us lies, to live peaceably with all men,"
beseems to intimate, that though it be difiicult, it is
not wholly impracticable. We cannot change the root-
ed prejudices of their hearts against the Gospel ; but it
is possible, by the Lord's blessing, to stop their mouths,
and make them ashamed of discovering it, when they
behold our good conversation in Christ. And it is
well worth our while to cultivate this outward peace,
provided we do not purchase it at the expense of truth
and faithfulness ; for ordinarily we cannot hope to be
useful to our people, unless we give them reason to
believe that we love them, and have their interest at
heart. Again, opposition will hurt you, if it should
give you an idea of your own importance, and lead
you to d^vell with a secret self-approbation upon your
own faithfulness and courage in such circumstances.
If you are able to stand your ground, uninfluenced
either by the favour or the fear of men, you have
reason to give glory to God ; but remember, that you
cannot thus stand an hour, unless he upholds you. It
shows a wrong turn of mind, when we are very ready
to speak of our trials and difficulties of this kind, and
of our address and resolution in encountering them.
A natural stiffness of spirit, with a desire to have self
taken notice of, may make a man willing to endure those
kind of hardships, though he has but little grace in ex-
ercise : but true Christian fortitude, from a conscious-
ness that we speak the truths of God, and are support-
ed by his power, is a very dift'erent thing.
If you should meet with but little opposition, or if
the Lord should be pleased to make your enemies
your friends, you will probably be in danger from the
Lot. 5. alluding the Minislry. 139
opposite quarter. If opposition has hurt many, popu-
larity has wounded more. To say the truth, I am in
some pain for you. Your natural abilities are consi-
derable ; you have been diligent in your studies ; your
zeal is warm, and your spirit is lively. With these
advantages, I expect to see you a popular preacher.
The more you are so, the greater will your field of use-
fulness be ; but, alas ! you cannot yet know to what it
will expose you. It is like walking upon ice. When
you shall see an attentive congregation hanging upon
your words ; when you shall hear the well-meant, but
often injudicious commendations of those to whom
the Lord shall make you useful ; when you shall find,
upon an intimation of your preaching in a strange place,
people thronging from all parts to hear you, how will
your heart feel ? It is easy for me to advise you to be
humble, and for you to acknowledge the propriety of
the advice ; but while human nature remains in its
present state, there will be almost the same connexion
between popularity and pride, as between fire and gun-
powder : they cannot meet without an explosion, at
least not unless the gunpowder is kept very damp. So
unless the Lord is constantly moistening our hearts,
(if I may so speak,) by the influences of his Spirit, popu-
larity will soon set us in a blaze. You will hardly find
a person who has been exposed to this fiery trial,
without suffering loss. Those whom the Lord loves,
he is able to keep, and he will keep them upon the
whole ; yet by such means, and in a course of such
narrow escapes, that they shall have reason to look
upon their deliverance as no less than miraculous.
Sometimes, if his ministers are not watchful against
the first impressions of pride, he permits it to gather
.strength ; and then it is but a small thing that a few
14*0 On the Snares and Difficulties Let. 5.
of their admirers may think them more than men in the
pulpit, it they are left to commit such mistakes when out
of it, as the weakest of the flock can discover and pity.
And tliis will certainly be the case, while pride and self-
sufficiency have the ascendant. Beware, my triend, of
mistaking the ready exercise of gifts for the exercise of
grace. The minister may be assisted in public for the
sake of his hearers ; and there is something in the
nature of our public work, when surrounded by a con-
course of people, that is suited to daw forth the ex-
ertion of our abilities, and to engage our attention in
the outward services, when the frame of the heart may
be far from being right in the sight of the Lord. Whea
Moses smote the rock, the water followed ; yet he
spoke unadvisedly with his lips, and greatly displeased
the Lord. However, the congregation was not disap-
pointed for his fault, nor was he put to shame before
them ; but he was humbled for it afterwards. They
are happy whom the Lord preserves in some degree
humble, without leaving them to expose themselves to
the observation of men, and to receive such wounds as
are seldom healed without leaving a deep scar. But
even these have much to suffer. Many distressing ex-
ercises you will probably meet with upon the best sup-
position, to preserve in you a due sense of your own
unworthiness, and to convince you, that your ability,
your acceptance, and your usefulness, depend upon a
power beyond your own. Sometimes, perhaps, you
will feel such an amazing difference between the frame
of your spirit in public and in private, when the eyes of
men are not upon you, as will make you almost ready
to conclude, that you are no better than an hypocrite,
a mere stage player, who derives all his pathos and exer-
tion from the sight of the audience. At other times
Let. 5. attending the Ministry. 141
you will find such a total emptiness and indisposition of
mind, that former seasons of liberty in preaching nill
appear to you like the remembrance of a dream, and
you will hardly be able to persuade yourself, you shall
ever be capable of preaching again : the Scriptures will
appear to you like a sealed book, and no text or subject
afford any light or opening to determine your choice •
And this perplexity may not only seize you in the study,
but accompany you in the pulpit. If you are enabled
at some times to speak to the people with power, and
to resemble Sampson, when, in the greatness of his
strength, he bore away the gates of the city, you Avill
perhaps, at others, appear before them like Sampson
w hen his locks were shorn, and he stood in fetters.
So that you need not tell the people you have no suf-
ficiency in yourself ; for they will readily perceive it
without your information. These things are hard to
bear ; yet successful popularity is not to be preserved
upon easier terms : and if they are but sanctified to
hide pride from you, you will have reason to number
them amongst your choicest mercies.
I have but just made an entrance upon the subject of
the difficulties and dangers attending the ministry. But
my paper is full. If you are willing I should proceed,
let me know, and I believe I can easily find enough to
fill another sheet. May the Lord make you wise and
watchful ! That he may be the light of your eye, the
strength of your arm, and the joy of your heart, is the
sincere prayer of, &c.
JM Of the Influence of Faii/i. Let. G.
LETTER VI.
Of the Practical Influence of FaitJi.
Sir,
1 HE use and importance of faith, as it respects a sin-
ner's justification before God, has been largely insisted
on ; but it is likewise of great use and importance in
the dail}'^ concerns of life. It gives evidence and sub-
sistence to thiniTs not seen, and realizes the great truths
of the Gospel, so as that they become abiding and liv-
ing principles of support and direction while we are
passing through this wilderness. Thus, it is as the eye
and the hand, without which we cannot take one step
with certainty, or attempt any service with success. It
is to be wished that this practical exercise of faith were
duly attended to by all professors. We should not then
meet w-ith so many cases that put us to a stand, and
leave us at a great difficulty to reconcile what we see
in some of whom we would willingly hope well, with
what we read in Scripture of the inseparable concomi-
tants of a true and lively faith. For how can we but
be staggered, Mhen we hear persons speaking the lan-
guage of assurance, that they know their acceptance
Avith God through Christ, and have not the least doubt
of their interest in all the promises ; while, at the same
time, we see them under the influence of unsanctified
tempers, of a proud, passionate, positive, worldly, self-
ish, or churlish carriage ?
It is not only plain, from the general tenor of Scrip-
ture, that a covetous, a proud, or a censorious spirit,
are no more consistent with the Spirit of the Gospel,
Let. 6. Of the Influence of Faith. i4t3
than drunkenness or whoredom ; but there are many
express texts directly pointed against the evils which
too often are found amongst professors. Thus the
Apostle James assures us, "That if any man seemeth
" to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, his reli-
" gion is vain ;" and the Apostle John, " That if any
" man love the world, the love of the Father is not in
" him ;" and he seems to apply this character to any
man, whatever his profession or pretences may be,
" who having this world's goods, and seeing his brother
" have need, shutteth up his bowels of compassion from
" him." Surely these texts more than intimate, that
the faith which justifies the soul, does likewise receive
from Jesus grace for grace, whereby the heart is puri-
fied, and the conversation regulated as becomes the
Gospel of Christ.
There are too many who would have the ministry of
the Gospel restrained to the privileges of believers ; and
when the fruits of faith, and the tempers of the mind,
which should be manifest in those who have " tasted
" that the Lord is gracious,' are inculcated, think they
sufficiently evade all that is said, by calling it legal
preaching. I would be no advocate for legal preach-
ing ; but we must not be deterred, by the fear of a hard
word, from declaring the whole counsel of God ; and
we have the authority and example of St. Paul, who
was a champion of the doctrines of free grace, to ani-
mate us in exhorting professors to " walk worthy of
" God, who has called them to his kingdom and glory."
And indeed the expression of a believer's privilege is
often misunderstood. It is a believer's privilege to
walk with God in the exercise of faith, and, by the
power of his Spirit, to mortify the whole body of sin;
to gain a growing victory over the world and self, and
144 Of tlie hifiuence of Faith. Let. 6.
to make daily advances in conformity to the mind that
was in Christ. And nothing that we profess to know,
believe, or hope for, deserves the name of a privilege,
further than we are influenced by it to die unto sin, and
to live unto righteousness. Whosoever is possessed of
true faith, will not confine his inquiries to the single
point of his acceptance with God, or be satisfied w ith
the distant hope of heaven hereafter. He will be like-
wise solicitous how he may glorify God in the world,
and enjoy such foretastes of heaven as are attainable
while he is yet upon earth.
Faith, then, in its practical exercise, has for its object
the 'svhole word of God, and forms its estimate of all
things with which the soul is at present concerned, ac-
cording to the standard of Scripture. Like Moses, it
" endures, as seeing him who is invisible." When our
Lord was upon earth, and conversed w ith his disciples,
their eyes and hearts were fixed upon him. In danger
he was their defender ; their guide when in perplexity ;
and to him they looked for the solution of all their
doubts, and the supply of all their wants. He is now
withdrawn from our eyes ; but faith sets him still be-
fore us, for the. same purposes, and, according to its
degree, with the same effects, as if we actually saw him.
His spiritual presence, apprehended by faith, is a re-
straint from evil, an encouragement to every service,
and affords a present refuge and help in every time of
trouble. To this is owinjr the delight a believer takes
in ordinances, because there he meets his Lord ; and
to this likewise it is owing, that his religion is not con-
fined to public occasions ; but he is the same person in
secret as he appears to be in the pwhlic assembly ; for
he worships him who sees in secret ; and dares appeal
to his all-seeing eye for the sincerity of liis desires and
Let. G. Of the Influence of Faith. 145
intentions. By faith he is enabled to use prosperity
with moderation ; and knows and feels, that what the
world calls good is of small value, unless it is accom-
panied with the presence and blessings of him whom
his soul loveth. And his faith upholds him under all
trials, by assuring him, that every dispensation is under
the direction of his Lord ; that chastisements are a token
of his love ; that the season, measure, and continuance
of his sufferings, are appointed by infinite wisdom, and
designed to work for his everlasting good ; and that
grace and strength shall be afforded him, according to
his day. Thus, his heart being fixed, trusting in the
Lord, to whom he has committed all his concerns, and
knowing that his best interests are safe, he is not greatly
afraid of evil tidings, but enjoys a stable peace in the
midst of a changing world. For, though he cannot tell
what a day may bring forth, he believes that he vvho has
invited and enabled him to cast all his cares upon him,
will suffer nothing to befall him but what shall be made
subservient to his chief desires, the glory of God in the
sanctification and final salvation of his soul. And if,
through the weakness of his flesh, he is liable to be
startled by the first impression of a sharp and sudden
trial, he quickly flees to his strong refuge, remembers
it is the Lord's doing, resigns himself to his will, and
patiently expects a happy issue.
By the same principle of faith, a believer's conduct is
regulated towards his fellow-creatures ; and in the dis-
charge of the several duties and relations of life, his
great aim is to please God, and to let his light shine
in the world. He believes and feels his own weakness
and un worthiness, and lives upon the grace and par-
doning love of his Lord. This gives him an habitual
tenderness and gentleness of spirit. Humbled under a
Voj. L ^" IJ
146 Of ihc [iifluence of Faith. Let. 6.
sense of much forgiveness to himself, he tinds it easy to
forgive others, if he has aught against any. A due sense
of what he is in the sight of the Lord, preserves hiiu
from giving way to anger, positiveness, and resent-
ment : he is not easily provoked, but is " swift to hear,
'' slow to speak, slow to wrath ;" and if offended, easy to
be entreated, and disposed, not only to yield to a re-
conciliation, but to seek it. As Jesus is his life, and
righteousness, and strength, so he is his pattern. By
faith he contemplates and studies this great exemplar
of philanthrophy. With a holy ambition he treads in
the footsteps of his Lord and Master, and learns of him
to be meek and lowly, to requite injuries with kindness,
and to overcome evil with good. From the same views,
by faith he derives a benevolent spirit, and, according
to his sphere and ability, he endeavours to promote the
welfare of all around him. The law of love being thus
wTitten in his heart, and his soul set at liberty from the
low and narrow dictates of a selfish spirit, his language
will be truth, and his dealings equity. His promise
may be depended on, without the interposition of oath,
bond, or witness ; and the feelings of his own heart,
under the direction of an enlightened conscience, and the
precepts of Scripture, prompt him " to do unto others
"as he would desire they, in the like circumstances,
'' should do unto him." If he is a master, he is gentle
and compassionate ; if a servant, he is faithful and obe-
dient : for in either relation he acts bv faith, under the
eye of his Master in heaven. If he is a trader, he
neither dares nor wishes to take advanta<i;e either of the
ignorance or the necessities of those with whom he deals.
And the same principle of love influences his whole
conversation. A sense of his own infirmities makes
him candid to those of others : he will not readily be-
Let. C. Of the Influence of Faith. 147
lieve reports to their prejudice, without sufficient proof;
and even then, he will not repeat them, unless he is
lawfully called to it. He believes that the precept,
" Speak evil of no man," is founded upon the same au-
thority with those which forbid committing adultery or
murder ; and therefore he " keeps his tongue as with a
" bridle."
Lastly, Faith is of daily use as a preservative from a
compliance with the corrupt customs and maxims of the
world. The believer, though ix the world, is not of
it : by faith he triumphs over its smiles and enticements;
he sees that all that is in the world, suited to gratify the
desires of the flesh or the eye, is not only to be avoided
as sinful, but as incompatible with his best pleasures.
He will mix with the world so far as is necessary, in
the discharge of the duties of that station of life in
which the providence of God has placed him, but no
further. His leisure and inclinations are en^ao;ed in a
different pursuit. They who fear the Lord are his
chosen companions ; and the blessings he derives from
the word, and throne, and ordinances of grace, make
him look upon the poor pleasures and amusements of
those who live ^^ ithout God in the world with a mix-
ture of disdain and pity ; and by faith he is proof
against its frowns. He will obey God rather* than man;
he will " have no fellowship with the unfruitful works
•' of darkness, but will rather reprove them." And if,
upon this account, he should be despised and injuriously
treated, whatever loss he suffers in such a cause, he ac-
counts his gain, and esteems such disgrace, his glory.
I am not aiming to draw a perfect character, but to
show tlie proper effects of tliat faith which justifies,
which purifies the heart, worketh by love, and over-
comes the Avorld. An habitual endeavour to possess
148 Oh Ministerial Address. Let. 7 •
such a frame of spirit, and thus to adorn the Gospel of
Christ, and that with growing success, is what 1 am
persuaded you are not a stranger to ; and I am afraid
that they who can content themselves with aiming at
any thing short of this in their profession, are too much
strangers to themselves, and to the nature of that liberty
wherewith Jesus has promised to make his people
free. That you may go on from strength to strength,
increasing in the light and image of our Lord and Sa-
viour, is the sincere prayer of, &c.
LETTER VII.
On the Proprietij of a Ministerial Address to the Unconverted.
Sir,
xN a late conversation you desired my thoughts con-
cerning a scriptural and consistent manner of address-
ing the consciences of unawakened sinners in the course
of your ministry. It is a point on which many emi-
nent ministers have been, and are not a little divided ;
and it therefore becomes me to propose my sentiments
with modesty and caution, so far as I am constrained
to differ from any, from whom in general I would be
glad to learn.
Some think that it is sufficient to preach the great
truths of the word of God in their hearing ; to set forth
the utterly ruined and helpless state of fallen man by
nature, and the appointed method of salvation by grace,
through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ; and then to
leave the application entirely to the agency of the Lloly
Spirit, wtu) alone can enlighten the dark understandings
of sinners, and enable them to receive in a due man-
Let. 7. On Mimsterial Address. 149
ner, the doctrines either of the law or the Gospel. And
they apprehend, that all exhortations, arguments, and
njotives, ad-iresscd to those tvho are supposed to be
still under the influence of the carnal mind, are incon^
sistent with the principles of free grace, and the ac-
knowledged inability of such persons to perform any
spiritual acts ; and that therefore the preachers, who,
avow ing the doctrines of free grace, do, notw ithstanding,
plead and expostulate with sinners, usually contradict
themselves, and retract in their application what they
bad laboured to establish in the course of their ser-
mons.
There are others, who, though they would be ex-
tremely unwilling to derogate from the free grace and
s overeign power of God in the great w ork of conver-
sion, or in the least degree to encourage the mistaken
notion which every unconverted person has of his own
power ; yet think it their duty to deal with sinners as
rational and moral agents : and, as such, besides de-
claring the counsel of God in a doctrinal way, to warn
them by the terrors of the Lord, and to beseech them
by his tender mercies, that they receive not the grace of
God, in a preached Gospel, in vain. Nor can it be
denied, but that some of them, when deeply affected
with the worth of souls, and the awful importance of
eternal things, have sometimes, in the warmth of their
hearts, dropped unguarded expressions, and such as
have been justly liable t® exception.
If wc were to decide to which of these different me-
thods of preaching the preference is due, by the discerni-
ble effects of each, it w ill perhaps appear in fact, with-
out making any invidious) comparisons, that those mi-
nisters whom the Lord has honoured with the greatest
success in awakening and converting sinners, have ge-
150 On Ministcmd Address. Let. 7.
nerally been led to adopt the more popular way of tw-
hortation and address ; while they who have been stu-
diously careful to avoid any direct application to sin-
ners, as unnecessary and improper, if they have not
been altogether without seals to their ministry, yet their
labours have been more owned in building up those
who have already received the knowledge of the truth,
than in adding to their number. Now, as " he that
" winneth souls is M'ise," and as everv faithful labourer
has a warm desire of being instrumental in raising the
dead in sin to a life of righteousness, this seems at least
a presumptive argument in favour of those, who, be-
sides stating the doctrines of the Gospel, endeavour, by
earnest persuasions and expostulations, to impress them
upon the hearts of their hearers, and entreat and warn
them to consider, " how they shall escape if they nc-
" gleet so great salvation." For it is not easy to con-
ceive, that the Lord should most signally bear testimony
in favour of tliat mode of preaching which is least con-
sistent with the truth, and with itself.
But not to insist on this, nor to rest the cause on the
authority or examples of men, the best of whom are im-
perfect and fallible, let us consult the Scriptures, which,
as they furnish us with the whole subject-matter of our
ministry, so they aftbrd us perfect precepts and patterns
for its due and orderly dispensation. With respect to
the subject of our inquiry, the examples of our Lord
Christ, and of his authorized ministers, the apostles,
are both our rule and our warrant. The Lord Jesus
was the great preacher of free grace, '' who spake as
" never man spake ;" and his ministry, while it pro-
vided relief for the weary and heavy-laden, was emi-
nently designed to stain the pride of all human glory.
lie knew what was in man, and declared, " that none
Let. 1 . On Ministerial Address. 151
" could come unto him, unless drawn and taught of
" God ;" John vi. 44 — 46. And yet he often speaks
to sinners in terms, M'hich, if they were not known to
be his, might perhaps be censured as inconsistent and
illegal; John vi. 27.; Luke xiii. 24 — 27.: John xii.
35. It appears, both from the context and the tenor
of these passages, that they were immediately spoken,
not to his disciples, but to the multitude. The apostles
copied from their Lord ; they taught, that we have no
sufficiency of ourselves, even to think a good thought,
and that " it is not of him that v.illeth, or of him that
" runneth, but of God who show eth mercy ;" yet they
plainly called upon sinners, (and that before they had
criven evident signs that they were pricked to the heart,
as Acts iii. 31.) " to repent, and to turn from their
"' vanities to the living God ;" Acts iii. 19. and xiv.
\5. and xvii. 30. Peter's advice to Simon Maa;us is
very full and express to this point ; for though he per-
ceived him to be " in the very gall of bitterness, and in
" the bond of iniquity," he exhorted him " to repent, and
" to pray, if perhaps the thought of his heart might be
" forgiven." It may be presumed, that we cannot have
stronger evidence, that any of our hearers are in a car-
nal and unconverted state, than Peter had in tlie case of
Simon Magus ; and therefore there seems no sufficient
reason why we should hesitate to follow the apostle's
example.
You have been told, that repentance and faith are spi-
ritual acts, for the performance of w hich, a principle of
spiritual life is absolutely necessary; and that therefore,
to exhort an unregenerate sinner to repent or believe,
must be as vain and fruitless as to call a dead person
out of his grave. To this it may be answered. That
we might cheerfully and confidently undertake even to
152 On Ministerial Address. Let 7.
call the dead out of their graves, if we had the com-
mand and promise of God to warrant the attempt ; tor
then we might expect his power would accompany our
"word. The vision of Ezekiel, chap, xxxvii. may be
fitly accommodated to illustrate both the difficulties and
the encourasement of a Gospel-minister. The deplor-
able state of many of our hearers may often remind us
of the Lord's question to the prophet, " Can these dry
" bones live r" Our resource, like that of the prophet,
is entirely in the soverei2;nty, grace, and power of the
Lord: "O Lord, thou knowest; impossible as it is to
" us, it is easy for thee to raise them unto life ; there-
*' fore we renounce our own reasonings ; and though
"we see that they are dead, we call upon them at thy
" bidding, as if they were alive, and say, O ye dry
" bones, hear the word of the Lord ! The means is
'"' our part, the work is thine, and to thee be all the
" praise." The dry bones could not hear the prophet;
but while he spoke, the Lord caused breath to enter
into them, and they lived, but the word was spoken to
them considered as dry and dead.
It is true, the Lord can, and I hope he often does,
make that preaching effectual to the conversion of sin-
ners, wherein little is said expressly to them, only the
truths of the Gospel are declared in their hearing ; but
he who knows the frame of the human heart, has pro-
vided us with a variety of topics which have a moral suit-
ableness to engage the faculties, affections, and con-
sciences of sinners, so far at least as to leave them-
selves condemned if they persist in their sins, and by
which he often effects the purposes of his grace; though
none of the means of grace by which he ordinarily
works, can produce a real change in the heart, unless
they are accompanied vvith the efficacious power ot his
I,ct. -7. On Mini St cried Address. 153
Spirit. Sliould we admit, that an unconverted person
is not a proper subject of ministerial exhortation, be-
cause he has no power' in himself to comply, the just
consequence of this position would perhaps extend too
far, even to prove the impropriety of all exhortation
universally : for when we invite the weary and lieavy-
laden to come to Jesus, that they may find rest ; when
we call upon backsliders to remember from whence
they are fallen, to " repent, and to (\o tlieir first works;"
yea, When we exhort believers to " walk worthy of
" God, who has called them to his kingdom and glory;"
in each of these cases we press them to acts for which
they have no inherent power of their own ; and unless
the Lord, the Spirit, is pleased to apply the word to
their hearts, we do but speak into the air ; and our en-
deavours can have no more effect in these instances,
than if we were to sav to a dead body, " Arise, and
" walk." For an exertion of divine power is no less
necessary to the healing of a wounded conscience, than
to the breaking of a hard heart ; and only he who has
begun the good u ork of grace, is able either to revive
or to maintain it.
Though sinners are destitute of spiritual life, they are
not therefore mere machines. They have a power to
do many things, which they may be called upon to ex-
ert. They are capable of considering their v» ays ; they
know they are mortal ; and the bulk of them are per-
suaded in their consciences, that after death there is an
appointed judgment : they are not under an inevitable
necessity of living in known and gross sins ; that they
do so, is not for want of power, but for want of will.
The most profane swearer can refrain from his oaths,
while in the presence of a person w hom he fears, and
to whom he knows it would be displeasing. Let a
Vol. L X
154 On MinisUrhd Jddrcs^. Let. 7.
drunkard see poison put into his liquor, and it may
stand by him untasted from morning to night. And
many would be deterred from sins to which they are
greatly addicted, by the presence of a child, though
thqy have no fear of God before their eyes. They
have a power likewise of attending upon the means of
grace ; and though the Lord only can give them true
faith and evangelical repentance, there seems no im-
propriety to invite them, upon the ground of the Gos-
pel-promises, to seek to him who is exalted to bestow
these blessings, and who is able to do that for them
which they cannot do for themselves ; and who has said,
" Him that cometh unto me, I will in nowise cast out."
Perhaps it will not be easily proved, that entreaties, ar-
guments, warnings, formed upon these general princi-
ples, which are in the main agreeable and adequate to
the remaininof light of natural conscience, are at all in-
consistent with those doctrines which ascribe the whole
of a sinner's salvation, from first to last, to the free
sovereign grace of God.
We should undoubtedly endeavour to maintain a
consistency in our preaching ; but unless we keep the
plan and manner of tlie Scripture constantly in view,
and attend to every part of it, a design of consistency
may fetter our sentiments, and greatly preclude our
usefulness. We need not wish to be more consistent
than the inspired writers, nor he afraid of speaking as
they have spoken before us. We may easily perplex
ourselves and our hearers, by nice reasonings on the
nature of human liberty, and the divine agency on the
hearts of men ; but such disquisitions are better avoid-
ed. We shall, perhaps, never have full satisfaction on
these subjects, till we arrive in the world of light. In
the mean time, the path of duty, the good old way, lies
Let. 8. On the imvnrd Witness of Faith. 155
plain before us. If, when you are in the pulpit, the
Lord favours you Avith a lively sense of the greatness of
the trust, and the worth of the souls committed to your
charse, and fills vour heart with his constrainin«; love,
many little curious distinctions, which amused you at
other times, will be forgotten. Your soul will go forth
with your words ; and while your bowels yearn over poor
sinners, you will not hesitate a moment, whether you
ought to warn them of their danger or not. That great
champion of free grace. Dr. Owen, has a very solemn
address to sinners ; the running title to which is, " Ex-
" hortations unto believing." It is in his exposition of
the 130th IJsalm,from p. 242. to 247. Lond.edit. 1 609,
which I recommend to your attentive consideration.
I am, &c.
LETTER VIII.
On the inward Witness to the Ground and Reality of Faith.
Sir,
READILY offer you my thouo;hts on 1 John v. 10.
'' He that believeth on the Son of God, hath the wit-
" ness in himself;" though, perhaps, you will think I
am writing a sermon, rather than a letter. If we be-
lieve in the Son of God, whatever trials we may meet
with in the [)rescnt life, our best concerns are safe, and
our happiness is sure. If we do not, whatever else we
have, or seem to have, we are in a state of condemna-
tion ; and, living and dying so, must perish. Thou-
sands, it is to be feared, persuade themselves that they
are believers, though they cannot stand the test of
Scripture. And there are many real believers, who,
ilu-ough the prevalence of remaining unbelief, and the
156 On the inward Witness of Faith. Let. 8.
temptations of Satan, form hard conclusions against
themselves, though the Scripture speaks peace to them.
But how does this correspond with the passage betore
us, which asserts universally, " He that believeth, hath
" the witness in himself?" for can a man have tiie \a it-
ness in himself, and yet not know it ? It may be an-
swered, the evidence, in its own nature, is sufficient
and infallible ; but we are very apt, when we would
form a judgment of ourselves, to superadd rules and
marks of trial, which are not given us, (for that pur-
pose,) in the Bible. That the word and Spirit of God
do witness for his children, is a point in which many
are agreed, who are far from being agreed as to the na-
ture and manner of that witness. It is, therefore, very
desirable, rightly to understand the evidence by which
we are to judge whether we are believers or not.
The importance and truth of the Gospel-salvation is
"witnessed to in heaven, by " the Father, the Word, and
" the Spirit." It is witnessed to on earth, by " the
" Spirit, the v.atcr, and the blood," ver. 7, 8. The
Spirit, in ver. 8. (I apprehend,) denotes a divine light
in the understanding, communicated by the Spirit of
God, enabling the soul to perceive and approve the
truth. 7 he nater seems to intend the powerful influ-
ence of this knovrledjye and lig-ht in the work of sanctiti-
cation. And the blood, the application of the blood of
Jesus to the conscience, relieving it from guilt and fear,
and imparting a " peace which passes all understand-
" ing." And he that believeth hath this united testi-
mony of the Spirit, the water, and the blood, not by
hearsay only, but in hiniself. According to the mea-
sure of his faith, (for faith has various degrees,) he has
a living proof that the witness is true, by the cficcts
wrought in his own heart.
Let. 8. On the inward IVitncas of Faith. 157
These things, which God has joined together, are
too often attempted to be separated. i\ttempts of this
kind have been a principal source and cause of most of
the dangerous errors and mistakes which are to be
found amongst professors of religion. Some say much
concerning tlie Spirit ; and lay claim to an inn ard light,
whereby they think they know the things of God.
Others lay great stress upon the water ; maintaining a
regular conversation, abstaining from the defilements of
the world, and aiming at a mastery over their natural
desires and tempers ; but neither the one nor the other
appear to be duly sensible of the value of the blood of
atonement, as the sole ground of their acceptance, and
the spring of their life and strength. Others, again,
are all for the blood ; can speak much of Jesus, and his
blood and righteousness; though it does not appear that
they are truly, spiritually enlightened, to perceive the
beauty and harmony of Gospel-truths, or that they pay
a due regard to that " holiness without which no man
'' can see the Lord." But Jesus came, not by water
only, or by blood only, but by water ^nd blood; and
the Spirit bears witness to both, because the Spirit is
truth. The water alone affords but a cold starched
form of godliness, destitute of that enlivening power
which is derived from a knowledge of the preciousness
of Jesus, as the Lamb that was slain. And if any talk
of the blood without the water, they do but turn the
grace of God into licentiousness : so, likev.ise, to pre-
tend to the Spirit, and at the same time to have low
thoughts of Jesus, is a delusion and vanity ; for the true
Sffirit testifies and takes of his glory, and presents it to
the soul. But the real believer receives tlie united tes-
timony, and has the witness in liimself that he does so.
To have the witness in ourselves, is to have the
158 On the inward Witnesn of Faith. Let. 8.
truths that are declared in the Scripture revealed in our
hearts. This brings an experimental conviction, which
may be safely depended on, " that we have received
" the grace of God in truth." A man born blind may
believ-e that the sun is bright upon the testimony of an-
other ; but if he should obtain his sight, he would have,
the witness in himself. Believing springs from a sense
and perception of the truths of the Gospel ; and who-
ever hath this spiritual perception is a believer. He has
the witness in himself. He has received the Spirit; his
understanding is enlightened, whereby he sees things to
be as they are described in the word of God, respect-
ing his own state by sin, and the utter impossibility of
his obtaining relief by any other means than those pro-
posed in the Gospel. These things are hidden from us
by nature. He has likewise received the blood. The
knowledge of sin, and its demerits, if alone, would drive
us to despair ; but by the same light of the Spirit, Jesus
is apprehended as a suitable and all-sufficient Saviour.
All that is declared concerning his person, offices, love,
sufferings, and obedience, is understood and approved.
Here the wounded and weary soul finds healing and
rest. Then the Apostle's language is adopted, " Yea,
" doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the ex-
" cellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord."
He has like^vise received the water, considered as the
emblem of sanctification. To a believer, all that the
Scripture teaches concerning the nature, beauty, and
necessity of holiness, as a living principle in the heart,
carries conviction and evidence. A deliverance from
the power, as well as from the guilt of sin, appears to
be an important and essential part of salvation. He
sees his original and his proper happiness, that no-
thing less than communion with God, and conformity
Let. 8. On the inioard Witness of Faith. 159
to him, is worth his pursuit. And therefore he can
say, " My soul thirsteth for thee ; 1 delight in the law
" of God after the in^rard man." In a word, his
judgment and his choice are formed upon a new spi-
ritual taste, derived from the w ritten word, and corres-
pondent uith it, as the musical ear is adapted to relish
harmony : so that what God has forbidden, appears
hateful ; what he has commanded, necessary ; what he
has promised, desirable ; and what he has revealed,
glorious. Wlioever has these perceptions, has the wit-
ness in himself, that he has been taught of God, and
believes in his Son.
If you think this explanation is agreeable to the
Scripture, you will be satisfied that the witness spoken
of in tliis passage, is very different from what some
persons understand it to be. It is not an impulse, or
strong persuasion, impressed upon us in a way of which
we can give no account, that " we are the children of
'' God,"' and that our sins are freely forgiven ; nor is
the powerful application of a particular text of Scrip-
ture necessary to produce it : neither is it always con-
nected with a very lively sensible comfort. These
things in some persons and instances, may accompany
the witness or testimony we are speaking of, but do
not properly belong to it : and they may be, and often
have been, counterfeited. But what I have described
is inimitable and infallible ; it is indubitably, as the ma-
gicians confessed of the miracles of ]\f oses, the finger of
God, as certainly the effect of his divine power as the
ereation of the world. It is true, many who have this
witness, walk in darkness, and are harassed with many
doubts and perplexities, concerning their state : but
this is not because the witness is not sufficient to give
them satisfaction, but because thev do not account it
i (>0 Q71 the immrd Witness of Faith. Let. 8.
so : being misled by the influence of self-will and a
legal spirit, they overlook this evidence as too simple,
and expect something extraordinary ; at least they think
they cannot be right, unless they are led in the same
way in which the Lord has been pleased to lead others
-with whom they may have conversed. But the Lord,
the Spirit, is sovereign and free in his operations ; and
though he gives to all who are the subjects of his grace,
the same views of sin, of themselves, and of the Sa-
viour ; yet, with respect to the circumstantials of his
work, there is, as in the features of our faces, such an
amazing variety, that perhaps no two persons can be
found whose experiences have been exactly alike : but
as the Apostle savs, That " he that believcth," that is,
whosoever believeth, (without exception,) " has this
" witness in himself;" it must consequently arise from
what is common to them all, and not from what is pe-
culiar to a few.
Before I conclude, I would make two or three obser-
vations. In the hrst place, I think it is plain, that the
supposition of a real believer's living in sin, or taking
encouragement Irom the Gospel so to do, is destitute
of the least foundation in truth, and can proceed only
from an ignorance of the subject. Sin is the burden
under which he s^roans ; and he would account nothing:
short of a deliverance from it worthy the name of sal-
vation. A principal part of his evidence that he is a
believer, arises from that abhorrence of sin which he
habitually feels. It is true, sin still dwelleth in him ;
but he loathes and resists it : upon this account he is in
a state of continual warfare ; if he was not so, he could
not have the witness in himself, that he is born of God.
Again : From hence arises a solid evidence, that the
Scripture is indeed the word of God, because it so ex-
Let. 8. On tlie inward Witness of Faith. 161
actly describes what is exemplified in the experience of
all who are subjects of a work of grace. While we are
in a natural state, it is to us as a sealed book : though
we can read it, and perhaps assent to the facts, we can
no more understand our own ccncernnitnts in m hat we
read, than it it was written in an unknown tongue, liut
when the mind is enliglitened by the Holy Spirit, the
Scripture addresses us as it were by name, explains
every ditiiculty under which we laboured, and proposes
an adequate and etfectual remedy for the relief of all
our wants and fears.
Lastly, It follows, that the hope of a believer is built
upon a foundation that cannot be shaken, though it may
and will be assaulted. It does not depend upon occa-
sional and changeable frames, upon any that is preca-
rious and questionable, but upon a correspondence and
agreement with the written word. Nor does this agree-
ment depend upon a train of laboured arguments and
deductions, but is self-evident, as light is to the eye, to
every person who has a real participation of the grace
of God. It is equally suited to all capacities ; by this
the unlearned are enabled to know their election of
God, and " to rejoice with a joy unspeakable and full
" of glory." And the wisest, if destitute of this per-
ception, though they may be masters of all the external
evidences of Christianity, and able to combat the cavils
of infidels, can see no real beauty in the truths of the
Gospel, nor derive any solid comfort from them.
I have only sent you a few hasty hints : it would be
easy to enlarge ; but I sat down, not to write a book,
but a letter. May this inward witness preside with
power in our hearts, to animate our hopes, and to mor-
tify our corruptions !
I am, (Sec.
Vol. I. Y
162 On Election and Perswerame. Ltt. 9.
LETTER IX.
On the Doctrines of Election andji7ial Perseverance.
Dear Sir^
Y<
OUR letter breathes the spirit of a Christian,
though you say you are not a Calvinist. I should have
still confined myself, in my letters, to the great truths
in which we are agreed, if you had not invited me to
touch upon the points wherein we differ. If you were
positive and peremptory in your present sentiments, I
should not think it my duty to debate with you ; in that
case, we might contend as much for victory as for
truth. But as you profess yourself an inquirer, and
are desirous of forming your judgment agreeable to
the word of God, without being influenced by the au-
thority of names and parties, I willingly embrace the
occasion you offer me. You say, that though you are
not prejudiced against the doctrines of election, and
perseverance of the saints, they appear to you attended
with such difficulties, that you cannot yet heartily and
fully assent to them. May the Lord, the Spirit, whose
office it is to guide his people into all truth, dictate to my
pen, and accompany what I shall write with his bless-
ing. It is not my intention to prove and illustrate these
doctrines at large, or to encounter the various objec-
tions that have been raised against them. So much
has been done in this way already, that I could only
repeat what has been said to greater advantage by
others. Nor need I refer you to the books which have
been professedly written upon this argument. In a let-
ter to a friend, I shall not aim at the exactness of a
Let. 9. On Election and Perseveranee. 163
disputant, but only offer a few unpremeditated hints, in
the same manner as if 1 had the pleasure of personally
conversing with you.
Permit me to remind you, in the first place, of that
important aphorism, John iii. 27- (which by the by
seems to speak strongly in favour of the doctrines in
question :) " A man can receive nothing, except it be
" given him from heaven." If you should accede to my
opinions upon my persuasion only, you would be little
benefited by the exchange. The Lord alone can give
us the true vital, comfortable, and useful knowledge of
kis own truths. AVe may become wise in notions, and
so far masters of a system, or scheme of doctrine, as to
be able to argue, object, and fight, in favour of our own
hypothesis, by dint of application, and natural abilities ;
but we rightly understand what we say, and whereof we
afiirm, no further than we have a spiritual perception of
it wrought in our hearts by the power of the Holy
Ghost. It is not therefore by noisy disputation, but by
humble v/aiting upon God in prayer, and a careful pe-
rusal of his holy word, that we are to expect a satistac-
tory, experimental, and efficacious knowledge of the
truth as it is in Jesus. I am persuaded, that you are
seeking in this way; if so, I am confident you shall not
seek in vain. The Lord teaches effectually, though for
the most part gradually. The path of the just is com-
pared to the light, which is very faint at the early dawn,
but shineth more and more to the perfect day.
If you sincerely seek the Lord's direction by prayer,
you will of course make use of his appointed means of
information, and search the Scriptures. Give me leave
to offer you the following advices, « hile you art read-
ing and comparing spiritual things with spiritual. First,
Not to lay too great stress upon a few detached texts.
164 On Election and Perseverance. Let. 9.
but seek for that sense which is most agreeable to the
general strain of the Scripture. Tlie iniallible word of
God must, doubtless, be consistent with itself. If it
does not appear so to us, the obscurity and seeming in-
consistency must be char^jed to the remaining darkness
and ij:,nordnce of our minds. As many locks, whose
wards differ, are opened with equal ease by one mas-
ter-key; so there is a certain comprehensive view of
scriotin-al truth, which opens hard places, solves objec-
tions, and happily reconciles, illustrates, and harmon-
izes many texts, which, to those who have not this
master-key, frequently styled the analogy of faith, ap-
pear little less than contradictory to each other. When
you obtain this key, you will be sure that you have the
right sense.
Again, You will do well to consult experience as
you go along. For though this is not to be depended
upon in the first instance, but must itself be subjected
to the rule of the written word, yet it is a good subor-
dinate help. Consider which sense is most agreeable
to what passes within you and around you, and which
best answers to the dealings of God with yourself, and
to what you can observe of his dealings w ith others.
Further, When you are led, (as I think you will be,
if you are not already,) to view the Caivinist doctrines
in a favourable light, be not afraid of embracing them,
because there may be perhaps some objections Mhich,
for want of a full possession of the key I mentioned,
you are iw^t able to clear up ; but consider if there arc
not as str(j^ or stronger objections against the other
side. W^M'e poor w eak creatures ; and the dealing
up of ever^j^difiiculty is not what we are immediately
called to;'.^put rather to seek that light which may
strengthen and feed our souls.
Let. 9. On Election ami Perseverance, 165
Lastly, Compare the tendency of different opinions.
This is an excellent rule, if we can fairly apply it.
Whatever is from God has a sure tendency to ascribe
glory to hi[n, to exclude boasting from the creature, to
promote the love and practice of holiness, and increase
our dependence upon his grace and faithfulness. The
Calvinists have no reason to be afraid of resting the
merits of their cause upon this issue ; notwithstanding
the unjust misrepresentations which have been often
made of their principles, and the ungenerous treatment
of those who would charge the miscarriages of a lew in-
dividuals, as the necessary consequence of embracing
those principles.
But I must check myself, or I shall finish my letter
before I properly begin my subject. You have objec-
tions to the doctrine of election. You will however
agree with me, that the Scripture does speak of it, and
that in very strong and express terms, particularly St.
Paul. I have met with some sincere people, as I be-
lieve, who have told me, they could not bear to read
his 9th chapter to the Romans, but always passed it
over : so that their prejudices against election, preju-
diced them against a part of the Scripture likewise.
But why so, unless because the dreaded doctrine is
maintained too plainly to be evaded ? But you will sa}^
that some writers and preachers attempt to put an
easier sense upon the apostle's words. Let us judge
then, as I lately proposed, from experience. Admit-
ting, Mhat I am sure you w ill admit, the tot^l depravity
of human nature, how can we account for the conver-
sion of a soul to God, unless we likewise admit an elec-
tion of grace ": The work must begin somewhere. Ei-
ther the sinner first seeks the Lord, or the Lord first
seeks the sinner. The foriiier is impossible, if by na-
166 On Election ami Perseverance. Let. &,
ture we are dead in trespasses and sins ; if the God of
this world has blinded our eyes, and maintains the pos-
session of our hearts ; and if our carnal minds, so far
from being disposed to seek God, are enmity against
him. Let me appeal to yourself. I think you know
yourself too well to say, that you either sought or loved
the Lord first: perhaps you are conscious, that for a
season, and so far as in you lay, you even resisted his
call ; and must have perished, if he had not made you
willing in the day of his power, and saved you in defi-
ance of yourself. In your own case, you acknowledge
that he began with you ; and it must be the case uni-
versally with all that are called, if the whole race of
mankind are by nature enemies to God. Then further,
there must be an election, unless all are called. But
we are assured that the broad road, which is thronged
■with the greatest multitudes, leads to destruction. Were
not you and I in this road ? Were we better than those
who continue in it still ? What has made us dififer from
our former selves? Grace. What has made us differ
from those who are now as we once were? Grace.
Then this grace, by the very terms, must be differenc-
ing, or distinguishing grace ; that is, in other words,
electing grace. And to suppose, that God should
make this election or choice only at the time of our
calling, is not only unscriptural, but contrary to the dic-
tates of reason, and the ideas we have of the divine
perfections, particularly those of omniscience and im-
mutability. They who believe there is any power in
man by nature, whereby he can turn to God, may con-
tend for a conditional election upon the foresight of
faith and obedience : but while others dispute, let you
and me admire, for we know that the Lord foresaw us,
(as we were,) in a state utterly incapable either of be-
Let. 9. On Election and Perseverance. 167
lieving or obeying, unless he was pleased to work in us
to will and to do, according to his own good pleasure.
As to final perseverance, whatever judgment we torm
of it in a doctrinal view, unless we ourselves do so per-
severe, our profession of religion ^vill be utterly vain ;
for only " they that endure to the end shall be saved."
It should seem, that whoever believes this, and is duly
apprized of his own weakness, the number and strength
of his spiritual enemies, and the difficulties and dangers
arising from his situation in this evil world, will at least
be desirous to have, (if possible,) some se'curity, that his
labour and expectation shall not be in vain. To be at
an uncertainty in a point of so great importance, to have
nothing to trust to for our continuance in well-doing,
but our own feeble efforts, our partial diligence and
short-sighted care, must surely be distressing, if we
rightly consider how unable we are in ourselves to
withstand the forces of the world, the flesh, and the
devil, which are combined against our peace. In this
view I should expect that the opposers of this doctrine,
if thoroughly sensible of their state and situation, upon
a supposition that they should be able to prove it un-
scriptural and false, would weep over their victory, and
be sorry that a sentiment, so apparently suited to en-
courage and animate our hope, should not be founded
in truth. It is not to be wondered at, that this doc-
trine, which gives to the Lord the glory due to his name,
and provides so effectually for the comfort of his people,
should be opposed and traduced by men of corrupt
hearts. But it may well seem strange, that they who
feel their need of it, and cannot be comfortable without
it, should be afraid or unwilling to receive it. Yet
many a child of light is walking in darkness upon this
account. Either they are staggered by the sentiments
168 0)1 Kicciion and Perseverance. Let. ^.
of those whom they think wiser than themselves, or
stumbled by the falls of professors who were once ad,
vocates for tliis doctrine, or perplexed because they
cannot rightly understand those passages of Scripture
which seem to speak a different language. But as liefht
and knowledge increase, these difficulties are lessened.
The Lord claims the honour, and he engages for the
accomplishment of a complete salvation, that no power
shall pluck his people out of his hand, or separate them
from his love. Their perseverance in grace, besides
being asserted in many express promises, may be prov-
ed with the fullest evidence from the unchangeableness
of God, the intercession of Christ, the union which sub-
sists between him and his people, and from the princi-
ple of spiritual life he has implanted in their hearts,
which in its own nature is connected with everlasting
life, for grace is the seed of glory. I have not room
to enlarge on these particulars, but refer you to the fol-
lowing texts, from which various strong and invincible
arguments might be drawn for their confirmation; Luke
xiv. 28 — 30. compared with Phil. i. 6 ; Heb. vii. 25.
with Rom. viii. 34 — 59 ; John xiv. 19- with John xv. L
2 ; John iv. 14. Upon these grounds, my friend, why-
may not you, who have fled for refuge to the hope set
before you, and committed your soul to Jesus, rejoice
in his salvation ; and say, *' While Christ is the foun-
" dation, root, head, and husband of his people, while
" the word of God is Yea and Amen, while the coun-
" sels of God are unchangeable, while we have a Me-
'*' diator and High Priest before the throne, whHe the
" Holy S{)irit is willing and able to bear witness to the
" truths of the Gospel, while God is wiser than men,
" and stronger than Satan, so long the believer in Jesus
'' is and shall be safe ? Heaven and earth must pas^
Let. 9. On Election aJirl Perseverance. 169
'" away, but the promise, the oath, the blood, on which
" my soul relies, affords me a security which can nevei:
" fail."
As the doctrines of election and perseverance are
comfortable, so they cut off all pretence of boasting
and self-dependence, when they are truly received in
the heart, and therefore tend to exalt the Saviour. Of
course they stain the pride of all human glory, and
leave us nothing to glory in but the Lord. The more "we
are convinced of our utter depravity and inability from
first to last, the more excellent will Jesus appear. The
whole may give the physician a good word, but the sick
alone know how to prize him. And here I cannot but
remark a difference between those Avho have nothing
to trust to but free grace, and those who ascribe a little
at least to some good disposition and ability in man.
We assent to Avhatever they enforce from the word of
God on the subject of sanctilication. We acknowledge
its importance, its excellency, its beauty ; but we could
wish they would join more with us in exalting the Re-
deemer's name. Their experience seems to lead them
to talk of themselves, of the change that is wrought
in them, and the much that depends upon their own
watchfulness and striving. We likewise would be
thankful if wc could perceive a change wrought in
us by the power of grace : we desire to be found watch-
ing likewise. But when our hopes are most alive, it is
less from a view of the imperfect beginnings of grace in
our hearts, than from an apprehension of him who is
our all in all. His person, his love, his sufferings, his
intercession, com.passion, fulness, and faithfulness —
these are our delightful themes, which leave us little lei-
sure, when in our best frames, to speak of ourselves.
How do our heart? soften, and our eyes melt, when we
Vol. I. Z '
1*0 On Election aiiil Pi rscveranu. Lot. 9.
feel some liberty in thinking and speaking of him! For
we had no help in time past, nor can have any in time
to come, but from him alone. If any persons have
contributed a mite to their own salvation, it was more
than we could do. If any were obedient and faithful
to the first calls and impressions of his Spirit, it was
not our case. If any "were prepared to receive him
beforehand, we know that we were in a state of alien-
ation from him. We needed sovereign irresistible
grace to save us, or we had been lost for ever. If
there are any who have a power of their own, we must
confess ourselves poorer than they are. We cannot
watch, unless he watches with us ; we cannot strive,
unless he strives with us; we cannot stand one moment,
unless he holds us up ; and we believe we must perish
after all, unless his faithfulness is engaged to keep us.
But this we trust he will do, not for our righteousness,
but for his own name's sake, and because having loved
us with an everlasting love, he has been pleased in lov-
ing kindness to draw us to himself, and to be found of
us when we sought him not.
Can you think, dear Sir, that a person who lives un-
der the influence of tiiese sentiments, will desire to con-
tinue in sin because grace abounds ? No.j-^you are too
candid an observer of men and manners, ^o believe the
calumnies w hch are propagated against us. It is true,
there are too many false and empty professors amongst
us ; but are there none amongst those who hold the op-
posite sentiments? And I would observe, that the ob-
jection drawn from the miscarriages of reputed Calvin-
ists is quite beside the purpose. We maintain that no
doctrines or means can change the heart, or produce a
gracious conversation, w illiout the ellicacious povv'cr of
Almighty grace ; therefore, if it is found to be so in fact,
•Let. 10. On Grace in the Blade. 171
it should not be charged against our doctrine, but ra-
ther admitted as a proof and confirmation of it. We
confess, that we fall sadly short in every thing, and
iiave reason to be ashamed and amazed that we are so
faintly influenced by such animating principles ; yet,
upon the whole, our consciences bear us w itness, and
we hope m e may declare it both to the church and to
the world, without just fear of contradiction, that the
doctrines of grace are doctrines according to godliness,
I am, &c.
LETTER X.
A ; or, Grace in the Blade, Mark i\-. 28.
Dear Sir,
A>
.CCORDING to your desire, I sit down to give you
my general views of a progressive work of grace, in the
several stages of a believers experience; which I shall
mark by the different characters A, B, C, answerable
to the distinctions our Lord teaches us to observe from
the growth of the corn, ]\lark iv. 28. '' First the blade,
♦^then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear." The
Lord leads all his people effectually and savingly to the
knowledge of the same essential truths, but in such a
variety of methods, that it will be needful, in this dis-
quisition, to set aside, as much as possible, such things
as may be only personal and occasional in the experi-
ence of each, and to collect those only which in a greater
or less degree %'e common to them all. I shall not
therefore give yc^Ti copy ^ef my own experience, or of
that of any individual ; Sst shall endeavour, as clearly
as I can, to state what the Scripture teaches uis con-
172 On Grace iu the Blade. Let. 10,
cerning the nature and essentials of a work of grace, so
far as it will bear a general application to all those w ho
are the subjects of gracious operations.
By nature we are all dead in trespasses and sins, not
only strangers to God, but in a state of enmity and op-
position to his government and grace. In this respect,
whatever difference there may be in the characters of
men as members of society, they are all, whether wise
or ignorant, whether sober or profane, equally incapa-
ble of receiving or approving divine truths, 1 Cor. ii. 14.
On this ground our Lord declares, " No man can come
*' unto me, except the Father who has sent me draws
" him." Though the term Father most frequently ex-
presses a known and important distinction in the ador-
able Trinity, I apprehend our Lord sometimes uses it
to denote God, or the Divine Nature, in contradistinc-
tion from his humanity, as in John xiv. 9- And this
I take to be the sense here : " No man can come unto
" me unless he is taught of God," and wrought upon
by a divine power. The immediate exertion of this
power, according to the economy of salvation, is rather
ascribed to the Holy Spirit than to the Father, John
xvi. 8 — 1 1. But it is the power of the God and Fa-
ther of our Lord Jesus Christ: and therefore severally
attributed to the Father, Son, and Spirit, John v. 2 1 .
and ch. vi. 44 — 63 ; 2 Cor. iii. ] 8 ; 2 Thess. iii. 5.
By A, I would understand a person who is under the
drawings of God, which will infallibly lead him to the
Lord Jesus Christ for life and salvation. The begin-
ning of this work is instantaneous. It is effected by a
certain kind of licfht communicated to the soul, to which
it was before an utter stranger. The eyes of the un-
derstanding are opened and enlightened. The light at
first afforded is weak and indistinct, like the morning
Let. 10. On Grace in the Blade. 173
dawn ; but when it is once begun, it w ill certainly in-
crease and spread to the perfect day. We commonly
speak as if conviction of sin was the first work of God
upon the soul that he is in mercy about to draw unto
himself. But I think this is inaccurate. Conviction is
only a part, or rather an immediate effect of that first
work ; and there are many convictions which do not at
all spring from it, and therefore are only occasional
and temporary, though for a season they may be very
sharp, and put a person upon doing many things. In
order to a due conviction of sin, we must previously
have some adequate conceptions of the God with whom
we have to do. Sin may be feared as dangerous with-
out this ; but its nature and demerit can only be under-
stood by being contrasted with the holiness, majesty,
goodness, and truth, of the God against whom it is com-
mitted. No outvvard means, no mercies, judgments,
or ordinances, can communicate such a discovery of
God, or produce such a conviction of sin, without the
concurrence of this divine light and poM'er to the soul.
The natural conscience and passions may be indeed so
far wrought upon by outward means, as to stir up some
desires and endeavours ; but if these are not founded in
a spiritual apprehension of the perfections of God, ac-
cording to the revelation he has made of himself in his
word, they will sooner or later come to nothing ; and
the person affected will either return by degrees to hii
former ways, 2 Peter ii. 20 ; or he will sink into a self-
righteous form of godliness, destitute of the power,
Luke xviii. 1 1. And therefore, as there are so many
things in the dispensation of the Gospel suited to work
upon the natural passions of men, the many woful mis-
carriages and apostasies amongst professors are more to
be lamented than wondered at. For though the seed
174 On Grace in the Blade. Let, 10.
may seem to spring up, and look green for a season, if
there be not depth for it to take root, it will surely wi-
ther away. We may he unable to judge with certainty
upon the first appearance of a religious profession, whe-
ther the work be thus deep and spiritual or not ; but
" the Lord knows them that are his ;" and wherever it
is real, it is an infallible token of salvation. Now, as
God only thus reveals himself by the medium of Scrip-
ture truth, the light received this way leads the soul to
the Scripture from whence it springs, and all the lead-
ing truths of the word of God soon begin to be per-
ceived and assented to. The evil of sin is acknow-
ledged ; the evil of the heart is felt. There may be for
a while some efforts to obtain the favour of God by
prayer, repentance, and reformation ; but, for the most
part, it is not very long before these things are proved
to be vain and ineffectual. The soul, like the woman
mentioned, Mark v. 26. wearied w ith vain expedients,
finds itself Avorse and worse, and is gradually brought
to see the necessity and sufficiency of the Gospel sal-
vation. A. may soon be a believer thus far : That he
believes the word of God, sees and feels things to be as
they are there described, hates and avoids sin, because
he knows it is displeasing to God, and contrary to his
goodness ; he receives the record which God has given
of his Son ; has his heart affected and drawn to Jesus
by views of his glory, and of his love to poor sinners ;
ventures upon his name and promises as his only en-
couragement to come to a throne of grace ; waits dili-
gently in the use of all means appointed for the com-
mimion and growth of grace ; loves the Lord's people,
accounts them the excellent of the earth, and delights
in their conversation. He is longing, waiting, and pray-
ing, for a share in those blessings which he believes
Let 10. On Grace in the Blade. i7o
they enjoy, and can be satisfied with nothing less. He
is convinced of the power of Jesus to save him ; but
through remaining ignorance and legality, the remem-
brance of sin committed, and the sense of present cor-
ruption, he often questions his willingness; and, not
knowing the aboundings of grace, and the security of
the promises, he fears lest the compassionate Saviour
should spurn him from his feet.
While he is thus young in the knowledge of the Gos-
pel, burdened with sin, and perhaps beset with Satan's
temptations, the Lord, " who gathers the lambs in his
" arms, and caries them in his bosom," is pleased at
times to favour him with cordials, that he may not be
swallowed up with over-much sorrow. Perhaps his
heart is enlarged in prayer, or under hearing, or some
good promise is brought home to his mind, and applied
with pow-er and sweetness. He mistakes the nature
and design of these comforts, which are not given him
to rest in, but to encourage him to press forward. He
thinks he is then right, because he has them, and fondly
hopes to have them always. Then his mountain stands
strong. But ere long he feels a change : his comforts
are withdrawn ; he finds no heart to pray ; no attention
in hearing ; indwelling sin revives with fresh strength,
and perhaps Satan returns with redoubled rage. Then
he is at his wit's end ; thinks his hopes were presumptu-
ous, and his comforts delusions. He wants to feel
something that may give him a warrant to trust in the
free promises of Christ. His views of the Redeemer's
gracefulness are very narrow ; he sees not the harmony
and glory of the divine attributes in the salvation of a
sinner; he sighs for mercy, but fears that justice is
against him. However, by these changing dispensa-
tions, the Lord is training him up, and bringing him for-
17G On Grace in the Blade. Let. 10.
ward. He receives grace from Jesus, whereby he is
enabled to light against sin ; his conscience is tender,
his troubles are chiefly spiritual troubles ; and he thinks,
if he could but attain a sure and abiding sense of his
acceptance in the beloved, hardly any outward trial
would be capale of giving him much disturbance. In-
deed, notwithstanding the weakness of his faith, and the
prevalence of a legal spirit, which greatly hurts him,
there are some things in his present experience which
he may perhaps look back upon with regret hereafter,
when his hope and knowledge will be more establish-
ed. Particularly that sensibility and keenness of appe-
tite with which he now attends the ordinances, desiring
the sincere milk of the word with earnestness and ea-
gerness, as a babe does the breast. He counts the hours
from one opportunity to anotlier ; and the attention and
desire with which he hears may be read in his counte-
nance. His zeal is likewise lively ; and may be, for
want of more experience, too importunate and forward.
He has a love for souls, and a concern for the glory of
God ; which, though it may at some times create him
trouble, and at others be mixed with some undue mo-
tions of self, yet in its principle is highly desirable and
commendable ; vTohn xviii. 10.
The grace of God influences both the understanding
and the aflections. Warm affections, without know-
ledge, can rise no higher than superstition ; and that
knowledge which does not influence the heart and af-
fections, will only make a hypocrite. The true be-
liever is rewarded in both respects ; yet we may ob-
serve that though A. is not without knowledge, this state
is more usually remarkable for the warmth and liveli-
ness of tlie aflfections. On the other hand, as the
work advances, though the affections are not left out,
Let. 10. On Grace in the Blade. 177
yet it seems to be carried on principally in the under-
standing. The old Christian has more solid, judicious,
connected views of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the glo-
ries of his person and redeeming love ; hence his hope is
more established, his dependence more simple, and his
peace and strength, ceteris paribus, more abidinji and
uniform, than in the case of a young convert ; but the
latter has, for the most part, the advantage in point of
sensible fervency. A tree is most valuable when la-
den with ripe fruit, but it has a peculiar beauty when
in blossom. It is spring-time with A ; he is in bloom,
and, by the grace and blessing of the heavenly husband-
man, will bear fruit in old age. His faith is weak, but
his heart is warm. He will seldom venture to think
himself a believer ; but he sees and feels, and does
those things which no one could, unless the Lord was
with him. The very desire and bent of his soul is to
God, and to the word of his grace. His knowledge is
but small, but it is growing every day. If he is not sl fa-
ther or a young man in grace, he is a dear child. The
Lord has visited his heart, delivered him from the love
of sin, and fixed his desires supremely upon Jesus
Christ. The spirit of bondage is gradually departing
from him, and the hour of liberty, which he longs for,
is approaching, when, by a further discovery of the glo-
rious Gospel, it shall be given him to know his accept-
ance, and to rest upon the Lord's finished salvation.
We shall then take notice of him by the name of B, in
a second letter, if you are not unwilling that I should
prosecute the subject.
I am, &c.
Vol. I. 2 A
178 On Grace in the Ear. Let. 11.
LETTER XI.
B ; or, Grace in the Ear. Mark iv. 28.
Dear Sir,
^r
X HE manner of the Lord s work in the hearts of his
))eople is not easily traced, though the fact is certain,
and the evidence demonstrable, from Scripture. In
attempting to explain it, we can only speak in genera],
and are at a loss to form such a description as shall
take in the immense variety of cases which occur in the
experience of believers. I have already attempted
such a general delineation of a young convert, under
the character of A, and am now to speak of him by the
name of B.
This state I suppose to commence, when the soul,
after an interchange of hopes and fears, according to
the d liferent frames it passes through, is brought to rest
in Jesus, by a spiritual apprehension of his complete
suitableness and sufficiency, as the wisdom, righteous-
ness, sanctification, and redemption of all who trust in
him. and is enabled by an appropriating faith to say,
*' He is mine, and I am his." There are various de-
grees of this persuasion ; it is of a growing nature, and
is capable of increase so long as we remain in this
worid. I call it assurance, M'hen it arises from a simple
view of the grace and glory of the Saviour, inde[)endcnt
of our sensible frames and feelings, so as to enable us
to answer all objections from unbelief and Satan, with
the apostle's words, " Who is he that condemneth? It
" is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again,
•' wlio is even at the right hand of God, who also mak-
Lf^'t. II. OnJjrace in the Ear. 179
" cth intercession for us." Rom. viii. 34. This, in m\
judgment, does not belong to the essence of faith, so
that B should be deemed more truly a believer than A,
but to the establishment of faith. And now faith is
stronger, it has more to grapple with. I think the cha-
racteristic of the state of A is desire, and of B is coiiflict.
Mot that B's desires have subsided, or that A was a
stranger to conflict; but as there was a sensibly eager-
ness and keenness in A's desires, which perhaps, is
seldom known to be equally strong afterwards ; so
there are usually trials and exercises in B's experience,
something different in their kind, and sharper in their
measure, than what A was exposed to, or indeed had
strength to endure. A, like Israel, has been delivered
from Egypt by great power and a stretched-out arm,
has been pursued and terrified by many enemies, has
given himself up for lost again and again. He has at
last seen his enemies destroyed, and has sung the song
of i\Io3es and the Lamb upon the banks of the Red
Sea. Then he commences B. Perhaps, like Israel,
he thinks his difficulties are at an end, and expects to
go on rejoicing till he enters the promised land. But,
alas ! his difficulties are in a manner but beginning ; he
has a wilderness before him, of which he is not aware.
The Lord is now about to suit his dispensations to
humble and to prove him, and to sliow him what is in
his heart, tiiat he may do him good, at the latter end,
and that all the glory may redound to his own fi-ee
grace.
Since the Lord hates and abhors sin, and teaches his
people whom he loves to hate it likewise, it might seem
desirable, (and all things are equally easy to him,) that
at the same time they are delivered from the guilt and
reigning power of sin. thny should likev.ise be perfectly
180 On Grace in the Ear. Let. 11.
m
freed from the defilement of indwelling sin, and be
made fully conformable to him at once. His wisdom
has, however, appointed otherwise. But from the above
premises, of his hatred of sin, and his love to his peo-
ple, I think we may certainly conclude, that he would
not suffer sin to remain in them, if he did not purpose
to over-rule it, for the fuller manifestation of the gloi"^
of his grace and wisdom, and for the making his salva-
tion more precious to their souls. It is, however, his
command, and tiierefore their duty ; yea, further, from
the new nature he has given them, it is their desire to
watch and strive ajiainst sin ; and to propose the mor-
tification of the whole body of sin, and the advance-
ment of sanctification in their hearts, as their great and
constant aim, to wiiich they are to have an habitual
persevering regard. Upon this plan B sets out. The
knowledge of our acceptance with God, and of our
everlasting security in Christ, has in itself the same ten-
dency upon earth as it will have in heaven, and would,
in proportion to the degree of evidence and clearness,
produce the same efiects, of continual love, joy, peace,
gratitude, and praise, if there was nothing to counter-
act it. But B is not all spirit. A depraved nature
still cleaves to him, and he has the seeds of every na- *
tural corruption yet remaining in his heart. He lives
likewise in a world that is lull of snares, and occasions,
suited to draw forth those corruptions ; and he is sur-
rounded by invisible spiritual enemies, the extent of
•whose power and subtilty he is yet to learn by painful
experience. B knows, in general, the nature of his
Christian warfare, and sees his right to live upon Jesus
for righteousness and strength. He is not unwilling to
endure hardships as a good soldier of Jesus Christ;
and believes, that though he may be sore thrust at, that
Let. 11. On Grace m the Ear. 181
he may fall, the Lord will be his stay. He knows,
that his heart is " deceitful and desperately wicked ;"
but he does not, he cannot know at first, the full mean-
ing of that expression. Yet it is for the Lord's glory,
and will in the end make his grace and love still more
precious, that B should find new and mortifying proofs
Q^ an evil nature as he goes on, such as he could not
once have beiie\ ed had they been foretold to him, as in
the case of Peter, Mark xiv. 29. And, in efi'ect, the
abominations of the heart do not appear in their full
strength and aggravation, but in the case of one, who,
like B, has tasted that the Lord is gracious, and re-
joiced in his salvation. The exceeding sinfulness of
sin is manitested, not so much by its breaking through
the restraint of threatenings and commands, as by its
beinij capable of acting against light and against love.
Thus it was with Hezekiah. He had been a faithful
and zealous servant of the Lord for many years ; but I
suppose he knew more of God, and of himself, in the
time of his sickness, than he had ever done before.
The Lord, w ho had signally defended him from Senna-
cherib, was pleased likewise to raise him from the bor-
ders of the grave by a miracle, and prolonged the time
' of his life in answer to prayer. It is plain, from the
song which he penned upon his recovery, that he was
greatly affected with the mercies he had received : yet
still there was something in his heart which he knew
not, and which it was for the Lord's glory he should be
made sensible of; and therefore he was pleased to
leave him to himself It is the only instance in which
he is said to have been left to himself, and the only in-
stance in which his conduct is condemned. I appre-
hend, that in the state of B, that is, for a season after
'r,e have knov-n the Lord, we have usually the most
182 On Grace in tlic Ear. Let. 11.
sensible and distressing experience of our evil natures.
I do not say, that it is necessary that we should be left
to fall into gross outward sin, in order to know \vhat is
in our hearts ; though I believe many have thus fallen,
whose hearts, under a former sense of redeeming love,
have been as truly set against sin, as the hearts of
others who have been preserved from such outwaixJ
falls. The Lord makes some of his children examples
and warnings to others, as he pleases. They who are
spared, and whose worst deviations are only known to
the Lord and themselves, have great reason to be thank-
ful. I am sure I have : the merciful Lord has not suf-
fered me to make any considerable blot in my profes-
sion durinj^; the time I have been numbered amongst
his people. But I have nothing to boast of herein.
It has not been owing to my wisdom, watchfulness, or
spirituality, though in the main he has not suffered me
to live in the neglect of his appointed means. But I
hope to go softly all my days under the remembrance
of many things, for which I have as great cause to be
abased before him, as if I had been left to sin griev-
ously in the sight of men. Yet with respect to my ac-
ceptance in the Beloved, I know not if I have had a
doubt of a quarter of an hour's continuance, for many
years past. But, Oh ! the multiplied instances of stu-
pidity, ingratitude, impatience, and rebellion, to which
my conscience has been witness ! And as every heart
knows its own bitterness, I have generally heard the
like comphunts from others of the Lord's people uith
whom I ha\e conversed, even from those who have ap-
])eared to be eminently gracious and spiritual. B docs
not meet with these things perhaps at first, nor every
day. The Lord appoints occasions and turns in life,
which try our spirits. There are particular seasons
Let. 11. On Grace in the Ear. . 183
when temptations are suited to our frames, tempers,
and situations ; and tliere are times when he is pleased *
to withdraw, and to permit Satan's approach, that we
may teel how vile we are in ourselves. We are prone
to spiritual pride, to self dependence, to vain confi-
dence, to creature attachments, and a train of evils.
The Lord often discovers to us one sinful disposition
by exposing us to another. He sometimes shows us
Avhat he can do for us and in us ; and at other times
how little we can do, and how unable we are to stand
without him. By a variety of these exercises, through
the over-ruling and edifying influences of the Holy Spirit,
B is trained up in a growing knowledge of himself and
of the Lord. He learns to be more distrustful of his
own heart, and to suspect a snare in every step he
takes. The dark and disconsolate hours which he has
brought upon himself in times past, make him doubly
prize the light of God's countenance, and teach him to
dread whatever might grieve the Spirit of God, and
cause him to withdraw again. The repeated and mul-
tiplied pardons which he has received, increase his ad-
miration of, and the sense of his obligations to, the rich
sovereign abounding mercy of the covenant. ]\Iuch
has been forgiven him, therefore he loves much, and
therefore he knows how to forgive and pity others. He
does not call evil good, or good evil ; but his own ex-
periences teach him tenderness and forbearance. He
experiences a spirit of meekness towards those who are
overtaken in a fault, and his attempts to restore such,
are according to the pattern of the Lord's dealings with
himself. In a word, B's character, in my judgment,
is complete, and he becomes a C, when the habitual
frame of his heart, answers to that passage in the pro-
phet Ezekiel, chap. xvi. 63. " That thou mayest re-
184 On Grace in the full Corn. Let. 12.
" member, and be confounded, and never open thy
•' mouth any more, (to boast, complain, or censure.) be-
" cause of thy shame, when I am pacified towards thee
" for all that thou hast done, saitn the Lord God."
I am, txc.
LETTER XII.
C; or, The full Corn in the Ear, Mark iv. 28.
Dear Sir,
* Y way of distinction, I assigned to A the character-
istic of desire, to B that of cotiflict. I can think of no
single word more descri[)tive of the state of C than
cunt emp hit ion. His eminence, in comparison of A, does
not consist in the sensible warmth and fervency of his
affections : in this respect many of the most exemplary
believers have looked back with a kind of regret upon
the time of their espousals, when, though their judg-
ments were but imperfectly formed, and their views of
Gospel-truths were very indistinct, they felt a fervour
of spirit, the remembrance of which is both humbling
and refreshing ; and yet they cannot recall the same
sensations. Nor is he properly distinguished from B
by a consciousness of his acceptance in the Beloved,
and an ability of calling God his father; for this I have
supposed B has attained to. Though, as there is a
growth in every grace, C having had his views of the
Gospel, and of the Lord's faithfulness and mercy, con-
firmed by a longer experience, his assurance is of course
more stable and more simple, than when he first saw
himself safe from all condemnation. Neither has C,
properly speaking, any more strength or stock of grace
Let. 12. 0?i Grace in the full Corn. 185
inherent in himself than B, or evxn than A. He is in
the same state of absolute dependence, as incapable of
performing spiritual acts, or of resisting temptations by
his own power, as he was at the first day of his setting
out. Yet in a sense he is much stroncrer, because he
has a more feeling and constant sense of his own weak-
ness. The Lord has been Umz teachino; him this les-
son by a train of various dispensations ; and through
grace he can say, He has not suffered so many tilings
in vain. His heart has deceived him so often, thai he
is now in a good measure weaned from trusiing to it ;
and therefore he does not meet with so many disap-
pointments. And having found again and again the
vanity of all other helps, he is now taught to go to the
Lord at once for " grace to help in every time of need."
Thus he is strong, not in himseit, but in the grace that
is in Christ Jesus.
But C's happiness and superiority to B, lies chiefly in
this, that by the Lord's blessing on the use of means,
such as prayer, reading and hearing of the word, and
by a sanctified improvement ol \^hat lie has seen of the
Lord, and of his o\^n heart, in the course of bis expe-
rience, he has attained clearer, deeper, and more com-
prehensive views of the mystery of redeeming love ; of
the glorious excellency of the Lord Jesus, in his per-
son, offices, grace, and faithfulness ; of the harmony
and glory of all the divine perfections manifested in and
by him to the church; of the stability, beauty, fulness,
and certainty of the Holy Scriptures, and ot the heights,
depths, lengths, and breadths of the love ot God in
Christ. Thus though his sensible feelings may not be
so warm as when he was in the state of A, his iudg-
ment is more solid, his mind more fixed, his thoughts
more habitually exercised upon the things within the
Vol. L ' 2 B
180 On Grace in the full Com, Let. 12.
vail. His great business is to behold the glory of God
in Christ ; and by beholding, he is changed into the
same image, and brings forth in an eminent and uni-
form manner the fruits of righteousness, which are by
Jesus Christ to the alory and praise of God. His con-
templations are not barren speculations, but have a
real influence, and enable him to exemplify the Chris-
tian character to more advantage, and with more con-
sistence, than can in the present state of things be ex-
pected either from A or B. The ioUowing particulars
may illustrate my meaning.
I. Humility. s\ measure of this grace is to be et-
pected in every true Christian : but it can only appear
in proportion to the knowledge they have of Christ and
of their o^vn hearts. It is a part of C's daily employ-
ment to look back upon the v\ay by which the Lord has
led him ; and while he reviews the Ebenezers he has set
up all along the road, he sees, in almost an equal num-
ber, the monuments of his own perverse returns, and
how he has in a thousand instances rendered to the Lord
evil for good. Comparing these things together, he can
without affectation adopt the apostle's language, and style
himself " less than the least of all saints, and of sinners
" the chief" A and B know that they ought to be
humbled ; but C is truly so, and feels the force of that
text which I mentioned in my last ; Ezek. xvi. 63.
Again, as he knows most of himself, so he has seen
most of the Lord. The apprehension of infinite Ma-
jesty combined with infinite love, makes him shrink into
the dust. From the exercise of this grace he derives
two others, which are exceedingly ornamental, and prin-
cipal branches of the mind which was, in Christ.
The one is, submission to the Avill of God. The
views he has of his own vileness, unworthiness, and
Let. 12. On Grace in the full Corn. 187
ignorance, and of the divine sovereignty, ^\isdom, and
love, teach him to be content in every state, and to bear
his appointed lot of suffering with resignation, accord -
ins£ to the lanfjuaiie of David in a time of affliction, " I
*' was dumb, and opened not my mouth, because thou
-' didst it."
The other is, tenderness of spirit towards his fellow
Christians. He cannot but judge of their conduct ac-
cording to the rule of the word. But his own heart,
and the knowledge he has acquired of the snares of
the world, and the subtilty of Satan, teach him to make
all due allowances, and qualify him for admonishing
and restoring, in the spirit of meekness, those who have
been overtaken in a fault. Here A is usually blameable;
the warmth of his zeal, not being duly corrected by a
sense of his own imperfections, betrays him often into
a censorious spirit. But C can bear with A likewise,
because he hath been so himself, and he will not ex-
pect green fruit to be ripe.
II. Spirituality. A spiritual taste, and a disposition
to account all things mean and vain, in comparison of
the knowledge and love of God in Christ, are essen-
tial to a true Christian. The world can never be his
prevailing choice ; I John ii. 1 3. Yet we are re-
newed but in part, and are prone to an undue attach-
ment to worldly things. Our sj^rits cleave to the dust,
in defiance to the dictates of our better judgments;
and I believe the Lord seldom gives his people a con-
siderable victory over this evil principle, until he has
let them feel how deeply it is rooted in their hearts.
We may often see persons entangled and clogged in
this respect, of whose sincerity in the main we cannot
justly doubt; especially upon some sudden and unex-
pected turn in life, which brings them into a situation
"1B8 On Grace in the full Corn. Let. 12.
they have not been accustomed to. A considerable
part ot our trials are ujercifully appointed to wean us
from this propensity ; and it is gradually weakened by
the Lord's showing us at one time the vanity of the
creature, and at another his om n excellence and all-
sufficiency. Even C is not pertect in this respect ; but
he is more sensible of tne evil of such attachments,
more humbled lor them, more 's^atchful against them,
and more delivered Irom them. He still feels a fetter,
but he longs to be free. His allo\\ed desires are
brought to a point ; and he sees nothing worth a se-
rious thought, but communion with God and progress
in holiness. "Whatever outward changes C may meet
with, he will in general be the same man still. He has
learned with the apostle, not only to suffer want, but,
(which is perhaps the harder lesson,) how to abound.
A palace A^ould be a prison to him, without the Lord's
presence, and with this a prison would be a palace.
From hence arises a peaceful reliance upon the Lord ;
he has nothing which he cannot commit into his hands,
which he is not habitually aiming to resign to his dis-
posal. Therefore he is not afraid of evil tidings ; but
when the hearts of others shake like the leaves of a tree,
he is fixed, trusting; in the Lord, who he believes can
and xcill make good every loss, sweeten every bitter,
and appoint all things to \\ ork together for his advan-
tage. He sees that the time is short, lives upon the
foretastes of glory, and therefore accounts not his life,
or any inferior concernment dear, so that he may finish
his course uith joy.
in. A union of heart to the glory and will of God,
is another noble distinction of C's spirit. The glory of
God and the good of his people are inseparably con-
nected. JBut of these great ends the first is unspeaka-
Let. 12, 071 Grace in the full Corn, 189
bly the highest and the most important, and into which
every thing else will be finally resolved. Now, in pro-
portion as we advance nearer to him, our judgment,
aim, and end, will be conformable to his, and his glory
will have the highest place in our hearts. At first it
is not so, or but very imperfectly. Our concern is
chiefly about ourselves ; nor can it be otherwise. The
convinced soul inquires. What shall I do to be saved ?
The young convert is intent upon sensible comforts ;
and in the seasons when he sees his interest secure, the
prospect of the troubles he may meet with in life makes
him often wish for an early dismission, that he may be
at rest, and avoid the heat and burden of the day. But
C has attained to more enlarged views ; he has a desire
to depart and to be with Christ, which would be im-
portunate if he considered only himself; but his chief
desire is, that God may be glorified in him, whether bv
his life or by his death. He is not his own ; nor does
he desire to be his own ; but so that the power of Jesus
may be manifested in him, he will take pleasure in in-
firmities, in distresses, in temptations : and though he
lonofs for heaven, would be content to live as lonjx as
jMethusclah upon earth, if, by any thing he could do or
suffer, the will and glory of God might be promoted.
And though he loves and adores the Lord for what he
has done and suffered for him, delivered him from, and
ap[)ointed him to ; yet he loves and adores liim likewise
with a more simple and direct love, in which self is in
a manner forgot, from the consideration of his glorious
excellence and perfections, as he is in himself That
God in Christ is glorious over all, and blessed for ever,
is the very joy of his soul ; and his heart can frame no
higher wish, than that the sovereign, wise, holy Mill of
God may be accomplished in him, and ail his creatures.
On Grace in the full Corn. Let. 12.
Upon this grand principle his praters, schemes, and
actions, are formed. Thus C is ah'eady made like the
angels ; and, so far as is consistent with the inseparable
remnants of a fallen nature, the will of God is regarded
by him upon earth, as it is by the inhabitants of hea-
ven.
The power of divine grace in C may be exemplified
in a great variety of situations. C may be rich or
poor, learned or illiterate, of a lively natural spirit, or
of a more slow and phlegmatical constitution. He may-
have a comparatively smooth, or a remarkably thorny
path in life ; he may be a minister or layman ; these
circumstantials will give some tincture and difference in
appearance to the work ; but the work itself is the
same ; and we must, as far as possible, drop the con-
sideration of them all, or make proper allowances for
each, in order to form a right judgment of the life of
faith. The outward expression of grace may be height-
ened and set off to advantage by many things which are
merely natural, such as evenness of temper, good sense,
a knowledge of the world, and the like ; and it may be
darkened by things which are not properly sinful, but
unavoidable, such as lowness of spirit, weak abilities,
and pressure of temptations, which may have effects
that they who have not had experience in the same
things cannot properly account for. A double quan-
tity of real grace, if 1 may so speak, that has a double
quantity of hindrances to conflict with, will not be easi-
ly observed, unless these hindrances are likewise known
and attended to ; and a smaller measure of grace may
appear great when its exercise meets with no remarka-
ble obstruction. For these reasons, we can never be
competent judges of each other, because we cannot be
competently acquainted with the whole complex case.
Let. 12. On Grace in the full Corn. 191
But our great and merciful High-priest knows the
whole ; he considers our frame, '' remembers that we
"are but dust;" makes gracious allowances, pities,
bears, accepts, and approves, with unerring judgment.
The sun, in his daily course, beholds nothing so excel-
lent and honourable upon earth as C, though perhaps
he may be confined to a cottage, and is little known or
noticed by men. But he is the object and residence of
divine love, the charge of angels, and ripening for ever-
lasting glory. Happy C ! his toils, sufferings, and ex-
ercises, will be soon at an end ; soon his desires will be
accomplished ; and he who has loved him, and re-
deemed him with his own blood, will receive him to
himself, with a " Well done, good and faithful servant;
" enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."
If this representation is agreeable to the Scriptures,
how greatly are they mistaken, and how much to be
pitied, w\\o, wliile they make profession of the Gospel,
seem to have no idea of the effects it is designed to pro-
duce upon the hearts of believers, but either allow
themselves in a worldly spirit and conversation, or in-
dulge their unsanctified tempers, by a fierce contention
for names, notions, and parties. jMay the Lord give
to you and to me daily to grow in the experience of
that wisdom which " is first pure, then peaceable, gen-
" tie, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good
" works, without partiality, and without hypocrisy."
I am, kc.
192 Oh hearing Sermons. Let. 13.
LETTER XIII.
On hearing Sertnons,
Dear Sir,
X AM glad to find that the Lord has at length been
pleased to fix you in a favoured situation, where you
have frequent opportunities of hearing the Gospel. This
is a great privilege ; but, like all other outward privi-
leges, it requires grace and wisdom to make a due im-
provement of it ; and the great plenty of ordinances
you enjoy, though in itself a blessing, is attended with
snares, which, unless they are carefully guarded against,
may hinder rather than promote your edification. I
gladly embrace the occasion you afford me, of offering
you my advice upon this subject. A remembrance of
the mistakes I have myself formerly committed, and the
observations I have made upon the conduct of profess-
ors, considered as hearers, will perhaps in some mea-
sure qualify me for the task you have assigned me.
The faithful ministers of the Gospel, are all the ser-
vants and ambassadors of Christ ; they are called and
furnished by his Holy Spirit; they speak in his name;
and their success in the discharge of their office, be it
more or less, depends entirely upon his blessing : so far
they are all upon a par. But in the measure of their
ministerial abilities, and in the peculiar turn of their
preaching, there is a great variety. There are " diver-
" sities of gifts from the same Sj)irit ; and he distributes
" to every man severally according to his own will."
Some are more happy in alarming the careless^ others
in administering consolation to the xvounded conscience.
liet. 13. On hearing Sermons. 193
Some are set more especially for the establishment and
coniirmation of the Gospel doctrines ; others are skilful
in solving casuistical points ; others are more excellent
in enforcing practical godliness ; and others again, hav-
ing been led through depths of temptation and spiritual
distress, are best acquainted with the various workings
of the heart, and know best how to speak a word in
season to weary and exercised souls. Perhaps no true
minister of the Gospel, (for all such are taught of God,)
is w holly at a loss upon either ot these points ; but few,
if any, are remarkably and equally excellent in manag--
ing them all. Again, as to their manner, some are more
popular and pathetic, but at the same time more gene-
ral and diffuse ; while the want of that life and earnest-
ness in delivery is compensated in others by the close-
ness, accuracy, and depth of their compositions. In
this variety of gifts, the Lord has a gracious regard to
the different tastes and dispositions, as well as to the
wantg of his people : and by their combined effects the
complete system of his truth is illustrated, and the good
of his church promoted with the highest advantage ;
while his ministers, like oliicers assigned to different
stations in an army, have not only the good of the whole
in view, but each one his particular post to maintain.
This would be more evidently the case, if the remain-
ing depravity of our hearts did not afford Satan but too
much advantage in his subtile attempts to hurt and en-
snare us. But, alas ! how often has he prevailed to in-
fuse a spirit of envy or dislike in ministers towards each
other, to withdraw hearers from their proper concern-
ment, by dividing them into parties, and stirring them
up to contend for a Paul, an Apollos, or a Cephas, for
their own favourites, to the disparagement of others,
who are equally dear to the Lord, and faitliful in his
Vol. L 2 C
194 On hearing Sermons. Let. 13.
service ? You may think my preamble long ; but I
shall deduce my advices chiefly from it ; taking it fov
granted, that to you I have no need of proving at large
Avhat I have advanced.
As the gifts and talents of ministers are different, I
advise you to choose for your stated pastor and teacher,
one whom you find most suitable, upon the whole, to
your own taste, and whom you are likely to hear with
the most pleasure and advantage. Use some delibe-
ration and nmch prayer in this matter. Entreat the
Lord, who knows better than you do yourself, to guide
you where your soul may be best fed ; and when your
choice is fixed, you will do well to make a point of at-
tending his ministry constantly, I mean at least at the
stated times of worship on the Lord's day. I do not
say that no circumstance v\ ill justify your going else-
where at such times occasionally ; but, I think, the sel-
domer you are absent, the better. A stated and regu-
lar attendance encourages the minister, affords a good
exam])le to the congregation ; and a hearer is more
likely to meet with what is directly suited to his own
case, from a minister who knows him, and expects to
see him, than he can be from one who is a stranger.
Especially I would not wish you to be absent for the
sake of gratifying your curiosity, to hear some new
preacher, who you have perhaps been told is a very
extraordinary nian. For in your xcai/ such occasions
might possibly offer almost c\ ery week. What I have
observed of many who run about unseasonably after
new preachers, has reminded me of Prov. xxvii. 8.
*' As a bird that wandereth from her nest, so is the
" man that wandereth from his place."' Such unset-
tled hearers seldom thrive : they usually grow wise in
their own conceits, have their heads filled m ith notions.
Let. 13. 0)1 hearing Sermons. 195
acquire a dry, critical, and censorious spirit ; and are
more intent upon disputing who is the best preacher,
than upon obtaining benefit to themselves from what
they hear. If you could find a man indeed, who had
a power in ^iw^e// of dispensing a blessing to your soul,
you might follow him from place to place ; but as the
blessing is in the Lord's hands, you will be more likely
to receive it by waiting where his providence has placed
you, and where he has met with you before.
But as human nature is prone to extremes, permit
me to give you a caution on the other hand. If the
minister, under whom you statedly attend, is made very
acceptable to you, you will be in the less danger of
slighting him. But be careful that you do not slight
any other minister of Christ. If, therefore, when you
come to hear your own preacher, you find another in
the pulpit, do not let your looks tell him, that if you
had known he had been there, 3^ou would not have
come. I wish indeed you may never think so in your
heart; but though we cannot prevent evil thoughts from
rising in our minds, we should endeavour to combat
and suppress them. Some persons are so curious, or
rather so weak, that if their favourite minister is occa-
sionally absent, they hardly think it worth their while
to hear another. A judicious and faithful niinister, in
this case, instead of being delighted with such a mark
of peculiar attachment to himself, will be grieved to
think that they have profited no more by his labours ;
for it is his desire to win souls, not to himself, but to
Jesus Christ. I hope you, my friend, will always at-
tend the ordinances with a view to the Lord's presence ;
and when you are in your proper place, consider the
preacher, (if he preaches the truth, )as one providentially
and expressly sent by the Lord to you at that time ;
19G On hearing Sermons. Let. 13.
and that you could not choose better for yourself, all
things considered, than he has chosen for you. Do
not limit the Almighty, by confining your expectations
to a single instrument. If you do, you will probably
procure your own disappointment. If you fix your
hopes upon the man, the Lord may withhold his bless-
ing, and then the best men and the best sermons will
prove to you but as clouds without uater. But, be-
sides the more stated seasons of worship on the Lord's
day, you have many opportunities of hearing sermons
occasionally in the course of the week ; and thus you
may partake of that variety of gifts which I have al-
ready spoken of This will be either a benefit, or
otherwise, according to the use you make of it. I
would recommend to you to improve these occasions,
but under some restrictions.
In the first place, be cautious that you do not dege-
nerate into the spirit of a mere hearer, so as to place
the chief stress of your profession upon running hither
and thither after preachers. There are many who are
always upon the wing ; and, without a due regard to
what is incumbent upon them in the shop, in the fa-
mily, or in the closet, they seem to think they were
sent into the world only to hear sermons, and to hear
as many in a day as they possibly can. Such persons
may be fitly compared to Pharaoh's lean kine ; they de-
vour a great deal ; but for want of a proper digestion,
they do not flourish : their souls are lean ; they have
little solid comfort ; and their profession abounds more
in leaves than in fruit. If the twelve apostles were
again upon earth, and vou could hear them all every
week; yet, if you were not attentive to the duties of the
closet ; if you did not allow yourself time for reading,
meditation, and prayer ; and if you did not likewise
Let. 13. On hearing Sernmns: 197
conscientiously attend to the concernments of your par-
ticular calling, and the discharge of your duties in re-
lative life ; I should be more ready to blame your in-
discretion, than to admire your zeal. Every thing is
beautiful in its season ; and if one duty frequently jos-
tles out another, it is a sign either of a weak judg-
ment, or of a wrong turn of mind. No public ordi-
nances can make amends for the neglect of secret
prayer ; nor will the most diligent attendance upon
them justify us in the neglect of those duties, which, by
the command and appointment of God, we owe to so-
ciety.
Again,, as it is our trial to live in a day wherein so
many contentions and winds of strange doctrines
abound, I hope you will watch and pray that you may
not have itching ears, inclining you to hearken after no-
vel and singular opinions, and the erroneous sentiments
of men of unstable minds, who are not sound in the
faith. I have known persons who, from a blameable
curiosity, have gone to hear such, not for the sake of
edification, whicli they could not expect, but to know
what they had to say, supposing that they themselves
were too well established in the truth to be hurt by
them. But the experiment, (without a just and lawful
call,) is presumptuous and dangerous. In this way
many have been hurt, yea, many have been overthrown.
Error is like poison ; the subtilty, quickness, and force
of its operation, is often amazing. As we pray not to
be led into temptation, we should take care not to run
into it wilfully. If the Lord has sho^Mi you what is
right, it is not worth your while to know, (if you could
know it,) how many ways there are of being wrong.
Further, I advise you, when you hear a Gospel-ser-
^•non, and it is not in all respects to your satisfaction.
198 Oft hearing Senywm, Let. 13.
be not too hasty to lay the v hole blame upon the
preacher. The Lord's ministers have not much to say
in th ir own behaif. They feel, (it is to be hoped,) their
own weakness and detects, and the greatness and diffi-
culty of their work. They are conscious that their
warmest endeavours to proclaim the Saviour's glory are
too cold ; and their most importunate addresses to the
•consciences of men are too faint ; and sometimes they
are burdened with such discouragements, that even
their enemies would pity them if they knew their case.
Indeed, they have much to be ashamed of; but it m ill
be more useful for you, who are a hearer, to consider
whether the fault may not possibly be in yourself.
Perhaps you thought too highly of the man, and ex-
pected too much from him ; or perhaps you thoui^ht too
meanly of him, and expected too little. In the former
case, the Lord justly disappointed you ; in the latter,
you received according to your faith. Perhaps you
neglected to pray for him ; and then, though he might
be useful to others, it is not at all strange that he was
not so to you. Or possibly you have indulged a tri-
fling spirit, and brought a dearth and deadness upon
your own soul ; for which you had not been duly hum-
bled, and the Lord chose that time to rebuke you.
Lastly, as a hearer, you have a right to try all doc-
trines by the word of God ; and it is your duty so to
do. Faithful ministers will remind you of this ; they
will not wish to hold you in an implicit and blind obe-
dience to what they say upon their own authority, nor
desire that you should follow them further than they
have the Scripture for their warrant. They would not
be lords over your conscience, but helpers of your joy.
Prize this Gospel-liberty, which sets you free from the
doctrines and commandments of men ; but do not abuse
Let. 13. 0)1 hearing Sermons. 199*
it to the purposes of pride and self. There are hearers
who make themselves, and not the Scripture, the stand-
ard of their judgment. They attend not so much to
be instructed, as to pass their sentence. To them, the
pulpit is the bar at which the minister stands to take
his trial betore them ; a bar at which few escape cen-
sure, from judij;es at once so severe and inconsi?tent.
For, as these censors are not all of a mind, and perhaps
agree in nothins; so much as in the opinion they have
of their own wisdom, it has often happened, that, in the
course of one and the same sermon, the mhiister has
been condemned as a Legalist and an Antinoniian, as
too high in his notions, and too low, as having too little
action, and too much. O ! this is a hateful spirit,
that prompts hearers to pronounce e.v cathedra as if
they were infallible, breaks in upon tJie rights of private
judgment, even in matters not essential, and makes a
man an offender for a word. This spirit is one fre-
quent unhappy evil, which springs from the corruption
of the heart, when the Lord affords the means of grace
in great abundance. How highly would some of the
Lord's hidden ones, who are destitute of the ordinances,
prize the blessing of a preached Gospel, with which too
many professors seem to be surfeited. I pray God to
preserve you from such a spirit, (which I fear is spread-
ing, and intects us like the pestilence,) and to guide you
in all things.
T am. i^'c.
200 On Tcmplatwn. Let. l\\
LETTER XIV.
On Temptation.
Deal' Sir,
HAT can you expect from me on the subject of
Temptation, with which you have been so mtich more
conversant than myself? On this point I am more dis-
posed to receive information from you, than to offer my
advice. You, by the Lord's appointment, have had
much business and exercise on these great waters ;
whereas the knowledge I have of what passes there, I
have gained more from observation than from actual
experience. I shall not wonder if you think I write
like a novice : however, your request has the force of a
command with me. I shall give you my thoughts ; or
rather, shall take occasion to write, not so much to you
as to others, who, though they may be plunged in the
depths of temptation, have not yet seen so much of the
wisdom and power of God in these dispensations as
yourself. I shall first inquire, Why the Lord permits
some of his people to suffer such violent assaults from
the powers of darkness ; and then suggest a fe^v advices
to tempted souls.
The temptations of Satan, (which, though not tlic
most painful, are in reality tlie most dangerous,) do not
directly belong to my present design. I mean those,
by which he is too successful in drawing many profess-
ors from the path of duty, in liihng them with spiritual
pride, or lulling them into carnal security. In these at-
tempts he is often most powerful and prevalent when
he is least perceived ; he seldom distresses those whom
Let. 14. On Temptation. 20i»
he can deceive. It is chiefly when these endeavours
fail, that he fights against the peace of the soul. " He
hates the Lord's people, grudges them all their privi-
leges and all their comforts ; and w ill do- what he can
to disquiet them, because he cannot prevail against
them. And though the Lord sets such bounds to his
rage as he cannot pass, and limits him both as to man-
ner and time, he is often pleased to suffer him to dis-
cover his malice to a considerable degree ; not to gra-
tify Satan, but to humble and prove them ; to show
them what is in their hearts, to make them truly sen-
sible of their immediate and absolute dependence upon
himself, and to quicken them to watchfulness and prayer.
Though temptations, in their own nature, are grievous
and dreadful, yet ^vhen, by the grace of God, they arc
productive of these effects, they deserve to be num-
bered among the " all things which are appointed to
•' work together for the sood of those who love him.'
The light carriage, vain confidence, and woful backslid-
ings of many professors, might, perhaps, (speaking after
the manner of men,) have been in some measure pre-
vented, had they been more acquainted with this spirit-
ual warfare, and had they drunk of the cup of tempta-
tion, which but few of those who walk humbly and up-
rightly are exempted from tasting of, though not all in
the same degree. One gracious end, therefore, that
the Lord has in permitting his people to be tempted,
is for the prevention of greater evils, that they may not
grow proud or careless, or be ensnared by the corrupt
customs of the world. In this view, I doubt not, how-
ever burdensome your trials may at some seasons prove,
you are enabled, by your composed judgment, to re-
joice in them, and be thankful tur them. You know
what you suffer now : but you know not what might
Vol. I. 2 D
303 On Temptation. Let. 14.
have been the consequence, if you had never smarted
by tlie fiery darts of the wicked one. You might have
been taken in a more fatal snare, and been numbered
with those who, by their ffrievous declensions and falls,
have caused the ways of truth to be evil spoken of.
Another design is. for the manifestation of his power,
and wisdom, and grace, in supporting the soul under such
pressures as are evidently beyond its O'wn strength to
sustain, A bush on fire, and not consumed, en^aeed the
attention of Moses. This emblem is generally applica-
ble to the state of a Christian in the present life, but
never more so than when he is in the fire of temptation.
And though his heaviest sufferings of this kind are
usually hidden from the notice of his fellow-creatures,
yet there are other eyes always upon him. " We are,"
says the Apostle, " a spectacle to the world ;" not only
to men, but to angels also. Many things probably pass
in the invisible state, in which we have a nearer concern-
ment than we are ordinarily aware of. The beginning
of the book of Job throws some light upon this point, and
informs us, (of which we should have been otherwise to-
tally ignorant,) of the true cause ot his uncommon suffer-
ings. Satan had challenged him, charged him as a hypo-
crite, and thought he w as able to prove him one, if he
could have permission to attack him. The Lord, for the
vindication of Job's integrity, and forthe manifestation of
his own faithfulness and power in favour of his servant,
was pleased to give Satan leave to try w hat he could do.
The experimentanswered many good purposes: Job was
humbled, yet approved ; his friends w ere instructed ;
Satan w as confuted, and disappointed ; and the wisdom
and mercy of the Lord, in his darkest dispensations
towards his people, were gloriously illustrated. This
contest and the event were recorded for the direction
Let. 14. 071 Temptation 305
and cncourairement of his church to the end of time.
Satan's malice is not abated ; and though he has met
with millions of disappointments, he stid, like Goliah of
old, defies the armies of Crod's Israel; he challenges the
stoutest, and " desire.^ to have them that he may sift
" them as wheat.' Indeed, he is far an overmatch for
them, considered as in themselves: but though they are
weak, their Redeemer is mighty, and they are for ever
secured bv his love and intercession. " The Lord
*' knows them that are his, and no weapon formed
" aijainst them can prosper." That this may appear
with the fullest evidence, Satan is allo^^ed to assault
them. We handle vessels of glass or china with caution,
and endeavour to preserve them from falls and blows,
because we know they are easily broken. But if a man
had the art of making glass malleable, and like iron, ca-
pable of bearing the stroke of a hammer without break-
ing, it is probable, that instead of lockino; it carefully
up he would rather, for the commendation of his
skill, permit manv to attempt to break it, when he knew
their attempts would be in vain. Believers are com-
pared to earthen vessels, liable in themselves to be
destroyed by a small blow ; but they are so strength-
ened and tempered by the power and supply of divine
grace, that the fiercest efforts of their fiercest enemies
against them mav be compared to the dashing of w aves
against a rock. And that this may be known and no-
ticed, they are exposed to many trials; but the united
and repeated assaults of the men of the world, and the
powers of darkness, afford but the more incontestible
demonstration, that the Lord is with them of a truth,
and that his strength is made perfect in their weakness.
Surely this thought, my friend, will afford you consolpk-
304 0« Temptation. Let. 14.
tion ; and you will be content to suffer, if God ma}'
be glorified by you and in you.
Further, By enduring temptation, you, as a living
member of the body of Christ, have the honour of
being conformed to your head. He suffered, being
tempted ; and because he loves you, he calls you to a
participation of his sufferings, and to taste of his cup ;
not the cup of the wrath of God ; this he drank alone,
and he drank it all. But in affliction he allows his
people to have fellowship with him ; thus they fill up
the measure of his sufferings, and can say, As he w^as,
so are we in the world. IMarvel not that the world
hates you, neither marvel that Satan rages against you.
Should not the disciple be as his Lord ? Can the ser-
vant expect or desire peace from the avowed enemies
of his master? We are to follow his steps; and can
we wish, if it Avere possible, to w alk in a path strewed
with flowers, when his was strewed with thorns ? Let
us be in nothing terrified by the power of our adversa-
ries ; which is to them an evident token of perdition,
but to us of salvation, and that of God. To us it is
given, not only to believe in Christ, but also to suffer
for his sake. If we w'ould make peace with the world,
the world would let us alone ; if we could be content to
walk in the ways of sin, Satan would give us no dis-
turbance ; but because grace has rescued us from his
dominion, and the love of Jesus constrains us to live
to him alone, therefore the enemy, like a lion robbed of
his prey, roars against us. He roars, but he cannot
devour ; he plots and rages, but he cannot prevail ; he
disquiets, but he cannot destroy. If we suffer with
Christ, we shall also reign with him: in due time he will
bruise Satan under our feet, make us more than con-
Let. 14. On Temptation. 205
querors, and place us where Ave shall hear the voice of
Mar no more for ever.
Again, As by temptations, we are conformed to the
Ufe of Christ, so likewise, by the sanctifying power of
grace, they are made subservient to advance our con-
formity to his image ; particularly as we thereby ac-
quire a sympathy and fellow-feeling with our suffering
brethren. This is eminently a branch of the mind that
was in Christ. He knows how to pity and help those
who are tempted, because he has been tempted him-
self He knows what temptations mean, not only with
that knowledge whereby he knows all things, but by
experience. He well remembers what he endured in
the wilderness, and in the garden ; and though it is for
his glory and our comfort that he suffered temptation
without sin, yet for that very reason, and because he
was perfectly holy, the temptations of Satan were un-
speakably more bitter to him than they can be to us.
The great duty and refuge of the tempted now is, to
apply to him ; and they have the highest encouragement
to do so, in that they are assured he is touched with a
feeling of our infirmities. And for the like reason they
find some consolation in applying to those of their bre-
thren who have suffered the same things. None but
these can either understand or pity their complaints.
If the Lord has any children who are not exercised
with spiritual temptations, I am sure they are but
poorly qualified to " speak a word in season to them
" that are weary." In this school you have acquired
the tongue of the learned ; and let it not seem a small
thins; to you, if the Lord has mven vou wisdom and abi-
lity, to comfort the afflicted ones : if your prayers, your
conversation, and the knowledge they have of your
trials, afford them some relief in a dark hour, this is au
206 On Temptation. Let. 14.
honour and a privilege which, I am persuaded, you will
think you have not purchased too dear, by all that you
have endured.
Once more : Temptations, by giving us a painful sen*
sibiHty of the weakness of our graces and the strength
of our inward corruptions, tend to mortify the evil prin-
ciples of self-dependence and self-righteousness, which
are so deeply rooted in our fallen nature ; to make
Christ, in all his relations, offices, and characters, more
precious to us ; and to convince us, that without him
we can do nothing. It would be easy to enlarge upon
these and other advantages which the Lord enables his
people to derive from the things which they suffer ; so
that they may say, with Samson, " Out of the eater
" comes forth meat ;" and that what their adversary de-
signs for their overthrow, contributes to their establish-
ment. But I have already exceeded my limits. Enough,
I hope, has been said to prove, that He has wise and
gracious ends in permitting them for a season to be
tossed with tempest, and not comforted. Ere long
these designs will be more tuUy unfolded to us ; and we
shall be satisfied that he has done all things well. In
the mean while it is our duty, and will be much for our
comfort, to believe it upon the authority of his word.
1 should now proceed to otfer some advices to those
who are tempted ; but I am ready to say. To what
purpose? When the eneniy comes in like a flood;
Avhen the very foundations of hope are attacked ; m hen
suspicions are raised in the mind, not only concerning
an interest in the promises, but concerning the truth of
the Scripture itself; when a dark cloud blots out, not
only the sense, but almost the remembrance of past
comforts : when the mind is overwhelmed with torrents
of blasphemous, unclean, or ni.onstrous imaginations.
Let. 14. On Temptation. 307
things horrible and unutterable ; when the fiery darts of
Satan have set the corruptions of the heart in a flame ;
at such a season a person is little disposed or able to
listen to advice. I shall, however, mention some things
by which, ordinarily, Satan maintains his advantage
against them in these circumstances, that they may be
upon their guard as much as possible.
His principal devices are,
1. To hide from them the Lord's designs in permit-
ting him thus to rage. Some of these I have noticed ;
and they should endeavour to keep them upon their
minds. It is hard for them, during the violence of the
storm, to conceive that any good can possibly arise
from the experience of so much evil. But when the
storm is over, they find that the Lord is still mindful
of them. Now, though a young soldier may well be
startled at the first onset in the field ot battle, it seems
possible, that those who have been often engaged, should
at length gain confidence from the recollection of the
many instances in which they have formerly found, by
the event, that the Lord was surely with them in the
like difficulties, and that their fears were only ground-
less and imaginary. When the warfare is hottest, they
have still reason to say, " Hope thou in God; for I
" shall yet praise him."
2. To make them utter impatient speeches, which do
but aggravate their distress. It is said of Job, under
his first trials, " In all this he sinned not with his lips,
" nor charged God foolishly." So long Satan was un-
able to prevail. Afterwards he opened his mouth, as
Jeremiah did likewise, and cursed the day of his birth.
When he once began to complain, his causes of com-
plaint increased. We cannot prevent dreadful thoughts
from arising in our hearts ; but we should be cautious
^06 On Temptation. Let. 14.
of giving them vent, b}^ speaking unadvisedly. This is
like letting in wind upon a smothering fire, m hich will
make it burn more fiercely.
3. To persuade them that all they feel and tremble
at arises immediately from their own hearts. Indeed,
it is a most awful proof of our depravity, that we feel
something within ready to close with the suggestions of
the enemy, in defiance of our better j udgment and de-
sires. But it is not so in all cases. It is not always
easy, nor is it needful, exactly to draw the line between
the temptations of Satan and our own corruptions :
but sometimes it is not impossible to distinguish them.
When a child of God is prompted to blaspheme the
name that he adores, or to commit such evils as even
unsanctified nature would recoil at; the enemy has done
it, and shall be answerable for the whole guilt. The
soul in this case is passive, and suffers with extreme re-
luctance what it more dreads than the greatest evils
which can affect the body. Nor do the deepest wounds
of this kind leave a scar upon the conscience, when the
storm is over ; which is a proof that they are not our
own act.
4. To drive them from the throne of grace. Prayer,
■uhich is at all times necessary, is especially so in a time
of temptation. But how hard is it to come boldly, that
we may obtain help in this time of need ! but, however
hard, it must be attempted. By discontinuing prayer,
we give the enemy the greatest encouragement possi-
ble; for then he sees that his temptations have the c^
feet which he intends by them, to intercept us from our
strong hold. When our Lord was in an agony, he
prayed the most earnestly ; the ardour of his prayer in-
creased with the distress of his soul. It would be
happy if we could always imitate him in this : but too
Let. Ik On Temptation. 209
often temptations and difficulties, instead of rousing our
application, dishearten and enfeeble us ; so that our
cries are the faintest, when we stand most in need of
assistance. But so long" as prayer is restrained, our
burden is increased. Psahn xxxii. 3. 5. If he cannot
make them omit praying, he will repeatedly endeavour
to weary them by working upcjn the legality which
cleaves so close to the heart. Satan is a hard task-
master, when he interferes in the performance of our
spiritual duties. This he does perhaps more frequently
than we think of; for he can, if it serves his purpose,
appear as an angel of light. When the soul is in a
tempest, and attempts to pray, he will suggest, that
prayer on these occasions should be protracted to such
a length, and performed with sucli steadiness, as is
found to be at that season quite impracticable. Such
constrained efforts are wearisome ; and, from the man-
ner of the pertormance, he takes occasion to fix fresh
guilt upon the conscience. Short, frequent, and fer-
vent petitions, which will almost necessarily arise from
what is felt when temptation is violent, are best suited
to the case ; and we need not add to tiie burden, by
tasking ourselves beyond our power, as if we expected
to be heard for our much speaking. Blessed be God
that we fight with an enemy already vanquished by our
Lord, and that we have a sure promise of victory. The
Lord is our banner.
I am^ &G.
Vol. I. Q E
310 On a Christian Lihranj. Let. 15.
LETTER XV.
Jl Flan of a conipenclioics Christian Library.
Dear Sir,
xjlN eager desire of reading many books, though it is
often supposed to be the effect of a taste for knowledge,
is perhaps a principal cause of detaining multitudes in
ignorance and perplexity. When an unexperienced
person thus ventures into the uncertain tide of opinions,
he is liable to be hurried hither and thither with the
changing stream ; to fall in with every new proposal,
and to be continually embarrassed with the difficulty of
distinguishing between probability and truth. Or if, at
last, he happily finds a clue to lead him through the
labyrinth wherein so many have been lost, he will ac-
knowledge, upon a review, that from what he remem-
bers to have read, (for perhaps the greater part he has
wholly forgotten,) he has gained little more than a dis-
cpvery of what mistakes, uncertainty, insignificance, ac-
rimony, and presumption, are often obtruded on the
world under the disguise of a plausible title-page.
It is far from my intention to depreciate the value,
or deny the usefulness of books, without exception : a
few well-chosen treatises, carefully perused and tho-
roughly digested, will deserve and reward our pains ;
but a multiplicity of reading is seldom attended with a
good effect. Besides the confusion it often brings upon
the judgment and memory, it occasions a vast expense
of time, indisposes for close thinking, and keeps us
poor, in the midst of seeming plenty, by reducing us to
Let. 15. On a Christian Library, 211
live upon a foreign supply, instead of labouring to im-
prove and increase the stock of our own reflections.
Every branch of knowledge is attended with this in-
convenience ; but it is in no one more sensibly felt than
when the inquiry is directed to the subject of religion.
Perhaps no country has abounded so much with reli-
gious books as our own ; many of them are truly ex-
cellent ; but a very great number of those which are
usually more obvious to be met with, as they stand re-
commended by great names, and the general taste of
the public, are more likely to mislead an inquirer, than
to direct him into the paths of true peace and wisdom.
And even in those books which are in the main agree-
able to the word of God, there is often so great a mix-
ture of human infirmity, so much of the spirit of con-
troversy and party, such manifest defects in some, and
so many unwarrantable additions to the simple truth of
the Gospel in others, that, unless a person's judgment
is already formed, or he has a prudent friend to direct
his choice, he will be probably led into error or pre-
judice before he is aware, by his attachment to a fa-
vourite author.
Allowing, therefore, the advantage of a discreet and
seasonable use of human writings, I would point out a
still more excellent way for the acquisition of true know-
ledge : a method which, if wholly neglected, the ut-
most diligence in the use of every other means will
prove ineffectual; but which, if faithfully pursued in an
humble dependence upon the divine blessing, will not
only of itself lead us by the straightest path to wisdom,
but will also give a double efficacy to every subordinate
assistance.
If I may be allowed to use the term book in a meta-
phorical sense, I may say, that the JMost High God, in
212 On a Chri'iian Library. Let. 15.
condescension to the weakness of our faculties, the bre-
vity of our lives, and our ujany avocations, has com-
prised all tiiC knowledge conducive to our real happi-
ness in four comprehensive volumes. The hrst, which
may be considered as the text, is cheap, portable, and
compendious, so that hardly any person in our favoured
land, who is apprised of its worth, need be w ithout it ;
and the other three, which are the best and tulkst com-
mentaries upon this, are always at hand for our pe-
rusal, and pressing upon our attention in every place
and circumstiince of our lives.
It w\\\ be easily apprehended, that by the first book
or volume, I mean that perfect and infallible system of
truth, the Bible. The internal characters of this book,
arising from its comprehensiveness, simplicit}', majesty,
and autliority, sufiiciently prove to every enlightened
mind, that it is given by inspiration of God. They
■who are competent judges of this evidence, are no more
disturbed by the suggestions of some men reputed wise,
that it is of human composition, than if they were told
that men had inv( nted the sun, and placed it in the fir-
mament. Its fulness speaks its author. No case has
yet occurred, or ever will, for which there is not a suf-
ficient provision made in this invaluable treasury. Here
Ave ma\ seek, (and we shall not seek in vain,) w herewith
to combat and vanquish every error, to illustrate and
confirm every spiritual truth. Plere are promises suited
to every want, directions adapted to every doubt that
can possibly ari^e. Mere is milk for babes, meat for
strong men, medicines for the wounded, refreshment for
the weary. The general lii?;tory of all nations and
ages, and the particular experience of each private be-
liever, friMij the beginning to the end ol time, arc won-
derfully comprised in this single volume ; so that who-
Let. 15. On a Christian Library. 213
ever reads and improves it aright, may discover his
state, his progress, his temptations, his danger, and his
duty, as distinctly and minutely marked out, as if the
Avhole had been written for him alone. In this respect,
as well as in many others, great is tlie mystery of god-
liness.
The simplicity, as well as the subject-matter of the
Bible, evinces its divine original. Though it has depths
sufficient to embarrass and confound the proudest ef-
forts of unsanctitied reason, it does not, as to its gene-
ral import, require an elevated genius to understand it,
but is equally addressed to the level of every capacity.
As its contents are of universal concernment, they are
proposed in such a manner as to engage and satisfy the
inquiries of all ; and the learned, with respect to their
own personal interest, have no advantage above the ig-
norant. That it is in fact read by many w\\o receive
no instruction or benefit from it, is M'hoUy owino; to
their inattention or vanity. This event may rather ex-
cite grief than wonder. The Bible teaches us to expect
it. It forewarns us, that the natural man cannot re-
ceive the things of God, can neither understand nor ap-
prove them. It points out to us the necessity of a hea-
venly teacher, the Holy Spirit, who has promised t9
guide those w ho seek him by prayer into all necessary
truth. They who implore his assistance, find the seals
opened, the veil taken away, and the way of salvation
made plain before them.
The language of the Bible is likewise clothed with
inimitable majesty and authority. God speaks in it,
and reveals the glory of his pertections, his sovereignty,
holiness, justice, goodness, and grace, in a manner m or-
thy of hiujself, though at the same time admirably
adapted to our weakness. The most laboured efforts
:^14 On a &linstia7i Library. Let. 15.
of human genius are flat and languid, in comparison of
those parts oi tlie Bible which are designed to give us
due apprehensions of the God with whom we have to
do. Where shall we find such instances of the true
sublime, the great, the marvellous, the beautiful, the
pathetic, as in the Holy Scriptures ? Again, the ef-
fects which it performs demonstrate it to be the Mord
of God. With a powerful and penetrating energy^
it alarms and pierces the conscience, discovers the
thoughts and intents of the heart, convinces the most
obstinate, and makes the most careless tremble. With
equal authority and efficacy, it speaks peace to the
troubled mind, heals the wounded spirit, and can im-
part a joy unspeakable and full of glory, in the midst of
the deepest distress. It teaches, persuades, comforts,
and reproves, with an authority that can neither be dis-
puted nor evaded ; and often communicates more light,
motives, and influence, by a single sentence, to a plain .
unlettered believer, than he could derive from the vo-
luminous commentaries of the learned. In a word, it
answers the character the apostle gives it : *' It is able
" to make us w ise unto salvation ; it is completely and
" alone sufficient to make the man of God perfect,
'' thoroughly furnished for every good -work." The
doctrines, histories, prophecies, promises, precepts, ex-
hortations, examples, and warnings, contained in the
Bible, form a perfect avhole, a complete summary of
the will of God concerning us, in which nothing is want-
ing, nothing is superfluous.
The second volume which deserves our study is the
book of Creation. " The heavens declare the glory of
^^ God, and the firmament showeth his handy-work :"
nor can we cast our eyes any where, without meeting
innumerable proofs of his wisdom, power, goodness, and
Let. 15. On a Christian Library. 215
presence. God is revealed in the least as well as in the
greatest of his works. The sun and the glow-worm, the
fabric of the universe, and each single blade of grass,
are equally the effects of divine power. The lines of
this book, though very beautiful and expressive in them-
selves, are not immediately legible by fallen man. The
works of creation may be compared to a fair character
in cypher, of which the Bible is the key ; and without
this key they cannot be understood. This book was
always open to the Heathens ; but they could not read
it, nor discern the proofs of his eternal power and god-
head which it affords. " They became vain in their
'' own imaginations, and worshipped the creature more
" than the Creator." The case is much the same at
this day with many reputed wise, whose hearts are not
subjected to the authority of the Bible. The study of
the works of God, independent of his word, though
dignified with the name oi philosophy, is no better than
an elaborate trifling and waste of time. It is to be
feared none are more remote from the true knowledge
of God, than many of those who value themselves most
upon their supposed knowledge of his creatures. They
may speak in general terms of his wisdom ; but they
live without him in the world ; and their philosophy
cannot teach them either to love or serve, to fear or
trust him. They who know God in his word, may find
both pleasure and profit in tracing his wisdom in his
T\'orks, if their inquiries are kept within due bounds^
and in a proper subservience to things of greater im-
portance ; but they are comparatively few who have lei-
sure, capacity, or opportunity for these inquiries. Eut
the book of creation is designed for the instruction of
all believers. If they are not qualified to be astrono-
mers or anatomists, yet from a view of the heavens, the
216 On a Christian Library. Let. lb,
■work of God's fingers, the moon and the stars, which
he hath created, they learn to conceive of his conde-
scension, power, and faithfidness. Though they are
unacquainted with the theory of light and colours, they
can see in the rainbow a token of God's covenant-love.
Perhaps thev have no idea of the magnitude or distance
of the sun ; but it reminds them of Jesus the Son of
righteousness, the source of lidit and life to their souls.
The Lord has established a wonderful analogy between
the natural and the spiritual world. This is a secret
only known to them that fear him ; but they contem-
plate it with pleasure; and almost every object they see,
when they are in a right frame of mind, either leads
their thoughts to Jesus, or tends to illustrate some
Scriptural truth or promise. This is the best method
of studying the book of Nature ; and for this purpose
it is always open and plain to those who love the Bible,
so that he who runs may read.
The book of Providence is the third volume, by
which those who fear the Lord are instructed. This
likewise is inextricable and unintelligible to the wisest
of men who are not governed by the word of God.
But when the principles of Scripture are admitted and
understood, they throw a pleasinii light upon the study
of Divine Providence, and at the same time are con-
firmed and illustrated by it. Wliat we read in the
Bible, of the sovereignty, wisdom, power, omniscience,
and omnipresence of God, of his over-ruling all events
to the accomplishment of his counsels and the mani-
festation of his glory, of the care he maintains of his
church and people, and of his attention to their prayers,
is exemplified by the history of nations and families,
and the daily occurrences of private life. The believer
receives hourly and indubitable proofs that the Lord
Let. 15. On a Christian Lib ary. '■ZVl
reigns ; that verily there is a God that judges the earth.
Hence arises a solid confidence : he sees that his con-
cerns are in safe hands ; and he needs not be afraid of
evil tidings ; his heart is fixed trusting in the Lord :
while others live at an uncertainty, exposed to the im-
pression of every new appearance, and, like a ship in a
storm, Mithout rudder or pilot, abandoned to the power
of the x'l inds and waves. In the history of Joseph, and
in the Book of Esther, and indeed throughout the Bible,
we have specimens of the wise unerring providence of
God : what important consequences depend, under his
management, upon the smallest events ; and with what
certaintv seemins contino-encies are directed to the issue
which he has appointed. By these authentic specimens
we learn to judge of the whole; and with still greater
advantage by the light of the New Testament, which
shows us, that the administration of all power in heaven
and earth is in the hands of Jesus. The government is
upon his shoulders : the King of Saints is King of na-
tions. King of kings, and Lord of lords : not a spar-
row falls to the ground, nor a hair from our heads,
without his cognizance ; and though his ways are higher
than our ways, and his thoughts than our thoughts;
though his agency is vailed from the eye of sense by
the intervention of second causes \ yet faith perceives,
acknowledges, admires, and trusts his management.
This study, like the former, does not require superior
natural abilities, but is obvious to the weakest and
meanest of his people, so far as their own duty and
peace are concerned.
The fourth volume is the book of the Heart, or of
Humun Nature, comprehending the experience of what
passes within our ow n breasts, and the observations we
make upon the principles and conduct of others, cora-
VoL. L 2 F
318 On a Chrht'ian Library. Lrl. 15.
pared with what we read in the word of God. Tlie
heart of man is deep ; but all its principles and work-
ings, in every possible situation, and the various man-
ners in which it is affected by sin, by Satan, by worldly
objects, and by grace, in solitude and in company, in
prosperity and in affliction, are disclosed and unfolded
in the Scripture. JNlany who are proud of tlieir know-
ledge of what they might be safely ignorant of, arc utter
strangers to themselves. Having no acquaintance with
the Scripture, they have neither skill nor inclination to
look into their own hearts, nor any certain criterion
whereby to judge of the conduct of human life. But
the Sible teaches us to read this mysterious book also ;
shows us the source, nature, and tendency, of our
hopes, fears, desires, pursuits, and perplexities ; the
reasons why we cannot be happy in ourselves, and the
vanity and insufficiency of every thing around us to help
us. The rest and happiness proposed in the Gospel,
is likewise found to be exactly suitable to the desires
and necessities of the awakened heart ; and the conduct
of those who reject this salvation, as well as the gracious
effects produced in those who receive it, prove to a de-
monstration, that the word of God is indeed a discerner
of the thoughts and intents of the heart.
My limits will admit but of a few hints upon these
extensive subjects. I shall only observe, that whoever
is well read in these four books, is a \\ise person, how
little soever he may know of what the men of the world
call science. On the other hand, though a man should
be master of the whole circle of classical, polite, and
philosophical knowledge, if he has no taste for the
Bible, and has no ability to apply it to the works of
creation and providence, and his own experience, he
knows nothing yet as he ought to know. I have pointed
Let. IG. On the Inefficacy of Knowledge. 219
out a treasure of more worth than all the volumes in
tljc \"atican.
I am, &c.
LETTER XV L
On the IncJJlcncij of our Knoa'lcdgr.
Dear Sir,
T
A O l)e enabled to form a clear, consistent, and com-
prehensive judgment of the truths revealed in the
Scripture, is a great privilege ; but they who possess it
are exposed to the temptation of thinking too highly of
themselves, and too meanly of others, especially of
those who not only refuse to adopt their sentiments,
but venture to oppose ttem. We see few controver-
sial writings, however excellent in other respects, but
are tinctured with this spirit of self-superiority ; and
they who are not called to this service, if they are at-
tentive to what passes in their hearts, may feel it work-
ing within them, upon a thousand occasions ; though,
so far as it prevails, it brings forcibly home to ourselves
the charge of ignorance and inconsistence, which we are
so ready to fix upon our opponents. I know nothing
as a means more likely to correct this evil, than a se-
rious consideration of the amazing difference between
our acquired judgment, and our actual experience ; or,
in other words, how little influence our knowledge and
judgment have upon our own conduct. This may
confirm to us the truth and propriety of the apostle's
observation, " If any man think that he knoweth any
" thing, he knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know."
Not that we are bound to be insensible that the Lord
220 On the Inefficaaj of Knoivledge. Let. 16.
has taught us what we were once ignorant of ; nor is it
possible that we should be so ; but because, if we esti-
mate our knowledore bv its effects, and value it no fur-
ther than it is experimental and operative, (which is the
proper standard whereby to try it,) we shall find it so
faint and feeble as hardly to deserve the name.
How firmly, for instance, are we persuaded, in our
judgments, that God is omnipresent ! Great as the
difficulties may be which attend our conceptions of this
point, the truth itself is controverted by few. It is ge-
nerally acknowledged by unawakened persons ; and 1
may add, too frequently known even by believers, as if
they knew it not. If the eyes of the Lord are in every
place, how strong a guard should this thought be upon
the conduct of those who profess to fear him ! We
know how we are often affected when in the presence
of a fellovt'-worm ; if he is one on whom we depend,
or who is considerably our superior in life, how careful
are we to compose our behaviour, and to avoid what-
ever might be deemed improper or oftensivc ! Is it not
strange that those who have taken their ideas of the di-
vine majesty, holiness, and purity, from the Scriptures,
and are not wholly insensible of their inexpressible obli-
gations to regulate all they say or do by his precepts,
should upon many occasions be betrayed into impro-
prieties of behaviorir, from which the presence of a no-
bleman, or prince, would have effectually restrained
them, yea, sometimes perhaps even the presence of a
child r Even in tlie exercise of prayer, by w hich we
profess to draw near the Lord, the consideration that
his eye is upon us has little power to engage our atten-
tion, or prevent our thoughts from wandering, like the
fooFs eyes, to the ends of the earth. What should wc
think of a person, who, being admitted into the king's
Let. 16. Oil the Incfficacy of Kno-a'Iedgr. 221
presence, upon business of the greatest importance^
should break oft" in the midst of his address, to pursue
a butterfly ? Could such an instance of weakness be
met with, it would be but a faint emblem of the incon-
sistencies which they who are acquainted with their
own hearts can often charge themselves with in prayer.
They are not wholly ignorant in what a frame of spkit
it becomes a needy dependent sinner to approach that
God, before whom the angels are represented as vail-
ing their faces : yet, in defiance of their better judg-
ment, their attention is diverted from him with whom
they have to do, to the merest trifles ; they are not able
to realize that presence with which they believe them-
selves to be surrounded, but speak as if they were
speaking into the air. Further, if our sense that God
is always present uas in any good measure answerable
to the conviction of our judgment, would it not be an
effectual preservative from the many importunate though
groundless fears with v.hich we are harassed ? He savs,
" Fear not, I am with thee ;*' he promises to be a shield
and a guard to those who put their trust in him ; yet,
though we profess to believe his word, and to hope that
he is our protector, we seldom think ourselves safe even
in the path of duty, a moment longer than danger is
kept out of our view. Little reason have we to value
ourselves upon our knowledge of this indisputable truth,
when it has no more effective and habitual influence
upon our conduct.
The doctrine of God's sovereignty likewise, though
not so generally owned as the former, is no less fully-
assented to by those who are called Ca/i'iiiists. \Ve
zealously contend for this point, in our debates with
the Arm'udans ; and are ready to wonder that any
should be hardy enough to dispute the Creator's ri"lit
'2i2 On the Incfjicacy of Kmvcledge. Let. 16.
to do what he will with his own. While we are only
engaged in defence of the election of grace^ and have a
comfortable hope tiiat we are ourselves of that number,
we seem so convinced, by the arguments the Scripture
affords us in support of this truth, that we can hardly
forbear charging our adversaries with perverse obsti-
nacy and pride, for opposing it. Undoubtedly the
ground of this opposition lies in the pride of the human
heart : but this evil principle is not confined to any
party ; and occasions frequently arise, when they who
contend for the divine sovereignty, are a little more prac-
tically influenced by it than their opponents. This hu-
miliating doctrine concludes as strongly for submission
to the will of God, under every circumstance of life, as
it does for our acquiescing in his purpose to have mercy
on whom he will have mercy. But, alas ! how often
do vve find ourselves utterly unable to apply it, so as to
reconcile our spirits to those afflictions which he is
pleased to allot us. So far as we are enabled to say,
when we are exercised with poverty, or heavy losses or
crosses, " I was dumb and opened not my mouth, be-
" cause thou didst it," so far, and no further, are we
truly convinced, that God has a sovereign right to dis-
pose of us, and all our concernments, as he pleases.
How often, and how justly, at such seasons, might the
argument we offer to others, as sufficient to silence all
their objections, be retorted upon ourselves, " Nay,
" but who art thou, O man, who repliest against God?
" Sliall the tiling formed say unto him that formed it,
" Why hast thou made me thus?" A plain proof that
our knowledge is more notional than experimental.
What an inconsistence, that while we think God is just
and righteous, in withholding from others tlie things
which pertain to their everlasting peace, we should find
Let. 10. On the Inefficccy of Knoxdodge. 223
it so hard to submit to his dispensations to ourselves
in matters of unspeakably less importance !
But the Lord's appointments, to those who fear him,
are not only sovereign, but wise and gracious. He has
connected their good with his own glory, and is en-
gaged, by promise, to make all things work together
for their advantage. He chooses for his people better
than they could choose for themselves : if they are in
heaviness, there is a need-be for it, and he withholds
nothing from them but what, upon the whole, it is bet-
ter they should be without. Thus the Scriptures teach,
and thus we profess to believe. Furnished with these
principles, wc are at no loss to suggest motives of pa-
tience and consolation to our brethren tliat are afflicted;
we can assure them, vvithout hesitation, that if they are
interested in the promises, their concerns are in safe
hands ; that the things which at present are not joyous
but grievous, shall in due season yield the peaceful
fruits of righteousness, and that their trials are as cer-
tainly mercies as their comforts. We can prove to
them, from the history of Joseph, David, Job, and
other instances recorded in Scripture, that notwith-
standing any present dark appearances, it shall certainly
be well with the riorhteous ; that God can and will make
crooked things straight ; and that he often produces the
greatest good from those events which we are apt to
look upon as evil. From hence we can infer, not only
the sinfalness, but the folly of finding fault with any of
his dispensations. We can tell them, that at the worst
the sufferings of the present life ai-e not worthy to be
compared with the glory that shall be revealed ; and
that therefore, under the greatest pressures, they should
so weep as those who expect in a little time to have all
their tears wiped away. But when the case is our own,
3.24 On the hwfficacij of Knoidedgc. Let. JG.
when vvc are troubled ou every side, or touched in the
tenderest part, how difficult is it to feel the force of
these reasonings, though we know they are true to a de-
monstration? Then, unless we are endued with fresh
strength from on high, we are as liable to complain and
despond, as if we thought our afflictions sprung out of
the i2;i*ound, and the Lord had fori2;otten to be ^ra-
cious.
I might proceed to show the difference between our
judgment when most enlightened, and actual expe-
rience, with respect to every spiritual truth. We know
there is no proportion between time and eternit}', be-
tween God and the creature, the favour of the Lord and
the favour or the frowns of men ; and yet often, when
these things are brought into close competition, we are
sorely put to it to keep steadfast in the path of duty ;
nay, without new supplies of grace, we should certainly
fail in the tune of trial, and our knowledge would have
no other effect than to render our guilt more inexcusa-
ble. We seem to be as sure that \ve are Aveak, sinful,
fallible creatures, as we are that we exist; and yet we
are prone to act as if we were wise and good. In a
word, we cannot deny, that a great part of our know-
ledge is as I have described it, like the light of the moon,
destitute of heat and influence ; and yet we can hardly
help thinking of ourselves too highly upon*the account
of it.
May we not say m itli the Psalmist, " Lord, what is
" man !" yea, what an enigma, what a poor inconsist-
ent creature is a believer ! In one view, how great is
his character and privilege ! lie knows the Lord ; he
knows himself. His understanding is enlightened to
apprehend and ^contemplate the great mysteiies of the
Gospel. He has just ideas of the evil of sin, the vanity
Let. 16. On the Inefficaaj of Knoxdcdge. 225
of the world, the beauties of holiness, and the nature
of true happiness. He was once " darkness? but now
" he is light in the Lord." He has access to God
by Jesus Christ ; to whom he is united, and in whom
he lives by faith. While the principles he has received
are enlivened by the agency of the Holy Spirit, he can
do all things. He is humble, gentle, patient, watchful,
faithful. He rejoices in afflictions, triumphs over temp-
tation, lives upon the foretastes of eternal glory, and
counts not his life dear, so he may glorify God his Sa-
viour, and finish his course with joy. But his strength
is not his own ; he is absolutely dependent, and is still
encompassed with infirmities, and burdened with a de-
praved nature. If the Lord withdraws his power, he
becomes weak as another man, and drops, as a stone
sinks to the earth by its own weight. His inherent
knowledge may be compared to the windows of a
house, which can transmit the light, but cannot re-
tain it. Without renewed and continual communica-
tions from the Spirit of grace, he is unable to withstand
the smallest temptation, to endure the slightest trial, to
perform the least service in a due manner, or even to
think a good thought. He knows this, and yet he too
often forgets it. But the Lord reminds him of it fre-
quently, by suspending that assistance without which he
can do nothing. Then he feels what he is, and is easily
prevailed upon to act in contradiction to his better judg-
ment. Thus repeated experience of his own weakness
teaches him by degrees where his strength lies ; that it
is not in any thing that he has already attained, or can
call his own, but in the grace, power, and faithfulness
of his Saviour. He learns to cease from his own un-
derstandmg, to be ashamed of his best endeavours, te
Vol. \. <l G
226 On a Believer'' s Frames. Let. 17.
abhor himself in dust and ashes, and to glory only in
the Lord.
From hence we may observe, that believers who
have most knowledge, are not therefore necessarily the
most spiritual. Some may and do walk more honour-
ably ^nd more comfortably with two talents, than others
with live. He who experimentally knows his own weak-
ness, and depends simply upon the Lord, will surely thrive
though his acquired attainments and abilities may be but
small : and he who has the greatest gifts, the clearest
judgment, and the most extensive knowledge, if he in-
dulges high thoughts of his advantages, is in imminent
danger of mistaking, and falling at every step ; for the
Lord will suffer none whom he loves to boast in them-
selves. He will guide the meek with his eye, and fill
the hungry with good things ; but the rich he sendeth
empty away. It is an invariable maxim in his king-
dom. That whosoever exalteth himself, shall be abased :
but he that humbleth himself, shall be exalted.
I am, &c.
LETTER XVn.
0)1 a Delievcr'^s Frames.
Dear Sir,
X OU ask me, in your letter, What should one do
when one finds one's self always still, quiet, and stupid,
except in the pulpit; is made useful there, but cannot
get either comfort or sorrow out of it, or but very rarely?
You describe a case w hich my own experience has made
very familiar to me : I shall take the occasion to offer
Let. 17. On a Believer's Frames, 227
you a few miscellaneous thoughts upon the subject of a
believer's frames ; and I send them to you, not by tlie
post, but from the press ; because I apprehend the ex-
ercise you speak of is not peculiar to you or to me, but
is in a greater or less degree the burden of all who are
spiritually minded, and duly attentive to what passes
in their own hearts, whether they are in the ministry
or not.
As you intimate, that you are in the main favoured
■with liberty and usefulness in the pulpit, give me leave
to ask you, What you would do if you did not find
yourself occasionally poor, insufficient, and, as you ex-
press it, stupid at other times ? Are you aware of what
might be the possible, the probable, the almost certain
consequences, if you always found your spirit enlarged,
and your frames lively and comfortable ? Would you
not be in great danger of being puffed up with spiritual
pride? Would you not be less sensible of your abso-
lute dependence upon the power of Christ, and of your
continual need of his blood, pardon, and intercession ?
Would you not be quite at a loss to speak suitably and
feelingly to the case of many gracious souls, who are
groaning under those effects of a depraved nature, from
which, upon that supposition, you would be exempted.^
How could you speak properly upon the deceitfulness
of tlic heart, if you did not feel the deceitfulness of
your own, or adapt yourself to the changing experiences
through which your hearers pass, if you yourself were
alwavs alike, or nearly so? Or how could you speak
pertinently of the inward warfare, the contrary princi-
ples of flesh and spirit fighting one against another, if
your own spiritual desires were always vigorous and
successful, and met with little opposition or control ?
The apostle Paul, though favoured with a sinijular
228 0)1 a Believer's Frames. Let. IT.
eminency in grace, felt at times that he had no suffi-
ciency in hiinseh so much as to think a good thought;
and he sau- there was a dauijer of his being exalted
above measure, if the Lord had not wisely and graci-
ously tempered his dispensations to prevent it. By
" being exalted above measure," perhaps there may be
a reference not only to his spirit, lest he should think
more highly of himself ttian he ought, but likewise to
his preaching, lest, not having the same causes of com-
plaint and humiliation in common with others, he should
shoot over the heads of his hearers, confine himself
chiefly to speak of such comforts and privileges as he
himself enjoyed, and have little to say for the refresh-
ment of those who nere discoura^ied and cast down by
a continual conflict vvith indwellin': sin. The angel who
appeared to Cornelius did not preach the Gospel to
him, but directed hiu) to send for Peter ; for though the
glory and grace of the Saviour seems a fitter subject for
an angel's powers than tor the poor stammering tongues
of sinful men, yet an angel could not preach experi-
mentally, nor describe the warfare between grace and
sin from his own feelings. And if we could suppose a
minister as full of comforts and as free from failings as
an angel, though he would be a good and happy man,
I cannot conceive that he would be a good or useful
preacher; for he would not know how to sympathize
with the weak and afflicted of the flock, or to comfort
them under their ditticulties with the consolations M'here-
Avith he himself in similar circumstances had been com-
forted of God. It belongs to your calling of God as a
minister, that you should have a taste of the various
spiritual trials which are incident to the Lord's people,
thai thereby you may possess the tongue of the learned,
and know how to speak a word in season to them that
Let. 17. On a Believer's Frames. 229
are weary ; and it is likewise needful to keep you per-
petually attentive to that important admonition, " With-
*' out me ye can do nothing."
Thus much, considering you as a minister. But we
may extend the subject so as to make it applicable to
believers in general. I would observe, therefore, that
it is a sign of a sad declension, if one, who has tasted
that the Lord is gracious, should be capable of being
fully satisfied with any thing short of the light of his
countenance, which is better than life. A resting in
notions of Gospel-truth, or, in the recollection of past
comforts, without a continual thirst for fresh commu-
nications from the fountain of life, is, I am afraid, the
canker which eats away the beauty and fruitfulness of
many professors in the present day ; and which, if it
does not prove them to be absolutely dead, is at least
a sufficient evidence that they are lamentably sick. But
if we are conscious of the desire^ if we seek it carefully
in the use of all appointed means, if we willingly allow
ourselves in nothing which has a known tendency to
grieve the Spirit of God, and to damp our sense of di-
vine things ; then, if the Lord is pleased to keep us
short of those comforts which he has taught us to prize,
and, instead of lively sensations of joy and praise, we
feel a languor and deadness of spirit, provided we do
indeed feel it, and are humbled for it, we have no need
to give way to despondency or excessive sorrow ; still
the foundation of our hope, and the ground of our abid-
ing joys is the same ; and the heart may be as really
alive to God, and grace as truly in exercise, when we
walk in comparative darkness and see little light, as
when the frame of our spirits is more comfortable.
Neither the reality nor the measure of grace can be
properly estimated by the degree of our sensible com-
23(i 0?i a Believer's Frames. Let. 17.
forts. The great question is, How we are practically
influenced by the word of God, as the ground of our
hope, and as the governing rule of our tempers and
conversation ? The apostle exhorts believers to rejoice
in the Lord always. He well knew that they were ex-
posed to trials and temptations, and to much trouble,
from an evil heart of unbeliet ; and he prevents the ob-
jections we might be ready to make, by adding, " And
*' again, I say, Rejoice ;" As if he had said, I speak
upon mature consideration ; I call upon you to rejoice,
not at some times only, but at all times ; not only v»hen
upon the mount, but when in the valley ; not only Avhen
you conquer, but while you are fighting ; not only when
the Lord shines upon you. but when he seems to hide
his face. When he enables you to do all thinirs, you
are no better in yourselves than )0u were bclore ; and
when you feel you can do notliing, you are no worse.
Your experiences will vary; but his love and promises
are always unchancreable. Thouiih our desires ot com-
fort, and what we call lively frames, cannot be too im-
portunate W' hile tijey are regulated by a due submission
to his will, yet they may be inordinate for want ot such
submission. Sinlul principles may, and too often do,
mix with and defile our best desiies. 1 have often de-
lected tlie two vile abominations Self-will and Self-
righteousness insinuating themselves into this concern:
like Satan, who v.orks by them, they can occasionally
assume the appearance of an angel of light. I have
felt an impatience in my spirit, utterly unsuitable to my
state as a binncr and a beggar, and to my profession of
yielding myself and all my concerns to the Lord's dis-
posal. He has mcrcilully convinced me that I labour
under a complication of disorders, summed up in the
word .sill ; he has graciously revealed himselt to me as
Let. 17. On a Believer's Frames. 231
the infallible physician; and has enabled me, as such,
to commit myself to him, and to expect my cure from
his hand alone. Yet how often, instead of thankfully
acceptinif his prescriptions, have I foolishly and pre-
sumptuously ventured to prescribe to him, and to point
out how I would have him deal with me ! How often
have I thoutiht somethinijf was necessary Avhich he saw
best to deny, and that I could have done better with-
out those dispensations which his wisdom appointed to
work for my good ? lie is God, and not man, or else
he would have been weary of me, and left me to my
own management long ago. Hom' inconsistent ! to ac-
knowledge that I am blind, to entreat him to lead me,
and yet to want to choose my own way, in the same
breath ! I have limited the Holy One of Israel, and
not considered that he magnifies his wisdom and grace
in working by contraries, and bringing good out of seem-
ing evil. It has cost me something to bring me to con-
fess that he is wiser than I ; but I trust, through his
blessing, I have not suffered wholly in vain. My sen-
sible comforts have not been great ; the proofs I have
had of the evils of my sinful nature, my incapacity and
aversion to good, have neither been few nor small ; but
by these unpromising means I hope he has made his
grace and salvation precious to my soul, and in some
measure weaned me from leaning to my own under-
standing.
Again, self-righteousness has had a considerable hand
in dictating many of my desires for an increase of com-
fort and spiritual strength. I have wanted some stock of
my own. I have been wearied of being so perpetually
beholden to him, necessitated to come to him always
in the same strain, as a poor miserable sinner. I coujd
have liked to have done something for myself in com-
932 On a Believer's Frames. Let. 12".
mon, and to have depended upon him chiefly upon ex-
traordinary occasions. I have found, indeed, that I
could do nothing without his assistance, nor any thing
even with it but what I have reason to be ashamed of.
If this had only humbled me, and led me to rejoice in
his all-sufficiency, it would have been well. But it has
often had a different effect, to make me sullen, angry,
and discontented, as if it was not best and most desira-
ble that he should have all the glory of his own work,
and I should have nothing to boast of, but that in the
Lord I have righteousness and strength. I am now
learning to crlory only in my infirmities, that the power
of Christ may rest upon me ; to be content to be no-
thing, that he may be All in All. But I find this a
hard lesson ; and when I seem to have made some pro-
ficiency, a slight turn in my spirit throws me back, and
I have to begin all again.
There is an inseparable connexion between causes
and effects. There can be no effect without a cause,
no active cause without a proportionable effect. Now
indwelling sin is an active cause ; and therefore while it
remains in our nature, it will produce effects according
to its strength. Why then should I be surprised that if
the Lord suspends his influence for a moment, in that
moment sin will discover itself? Why should I wonder
that I can feel no lively exercise of grace, no power to
raise my heart to God, any further than he is pleased
to work in me mightily ; any more than wonder that I
do not find fire in the bottom of a well, or that it should
not be day when the sun is withdra^^Il Irom the earth.
Humbled I uuijbt to be, to find I am so totally de-
praved ; but not discouraged, since Jesus is appointed
to rne of God, wisdom, lighteousness, sanctificaiion,
and redemption ; and since I find that, in the midst of
Let. 17. On a Believer'' s Frames. 233
all thiiJ darkness and deadness, he keeps alive the prin-
ciple of grace which he has implanted in my lieart.
As to Mr. Rutherford's expression which you men-
tion, that " there is no temptation like being without
''' temptation ;" I allow it in a qualified sense, that is,
it is better of the two to suffer from Satan's fiery darts,
than to be lulled asleep, and drawn into a careless se-
curity, by his more subtle, though less perceptible de-
vices ; so as to grow indifferent to the means of grace,
and sink into a worldly spirit, or, like the church of
Laodicea, to imagine ourselves rich, and increased in
goods, and that we have need of nothing. But I am
persuaded this is not your case ; the deadness you com-
plain of, and which is a burden you groan under, is a
very different thing. And I advise you to be cautious
iiow you indulge a desire to be exercised with Satan's
temptations, as supposing they would be conducive to
uiake you more spiritual, or would of course open you
a way to greater consolations. If you have such a de-
sire, I may say to you in our Lord's words, " you
" know not what you ask." He w ho knows our weak-
ness, and the power of our adversary, has graciously
directed us to pray, that w-e enter not into temptation.
Have you considered what the enemy can do, if he is
permitted to come in like a flood ? In one hour he
could raise such a storm as would put you to your wit's
end. He could bring such a dark cloud over your
mind, as would blot out all remembrance of your past
comforts, or at least prevent you from deriving the least
support from them. He could not only fight against
your peace, but shake the very foundations of your
hope, and bring you to question, not only your interest
in the promises, but even to doubt of the most impor-
tant and fundamental truths upon which your ho|:>es
Vol. I. 2 II
23-^ On Social Fraycr. Let. 18.
have been built. Be thankful, therefore, if the Lord
restrains his malice. A young sailor is often impatient
of a short calm ; but the experienced mariner, who has
been often tossed with tempests, and upon the point of
perishing, will seldom wish for a storm. In a word,
let us patiently wait upon the Lord, and be content tu
follow as he leads, and he will surely do us good.
I am, &c.
LETTER XVIIL
TJioughts on the Exercise of Social Prayer^
Sir,
X ACCOUNT it a great mercy, that at this time, wheo
iniquity so generally abounds, there is a number, I hope
a growing number, whose eyes aft'ect their hearts, and
who are stirred up to unite in prayer for the spread of
Gospel-knowledge, and a blessing upon our sinful land.
Meetings for social prayer are frequent in different
parts of the kingdom, and amongst various denomina-
tions of Christians. As the Lord has promised, that
when he prepares the heart to pray, he will graciously
incline his ear to hear, who can tell but he may yet be
entreated for us, and avert the heavy and justly-de-
served judgments which seem to hangover us?
It is much to be desired, that our hearts might be so
affected with a sense of divine things, and so closely en-
gaged when wc are worshipping God, that it might not
be in the power of little circumstances to interrupt and
perplex us, and to make us think the service Mcari-
sonie, and the time which we employ in it tedious. But
as our inffrmities are many and great, and the enemy of
Let. IS. On Social Prayer. 235
our souls is watchful to discompose us, if care is not
taken bv those who lead in social prayer, the exercise
which is approved by the judgment, may become a
burden, and an occasion of sin. Complaints of this
kind are frequent, and might perhaps be easily rectified,
if the persons chiefly concerned were spoken to in love.
But as they are usually the last who hear of it, it may
perhaps be of service to communicate a few remarks
on a subject of such general concern.
The chief fault of some good prayers is, that they are
too long ; not that I think we should pray by the clock,
and limit ourselves precisely to a certain number of
minutes ; but it is better of the two, that the hearers
should wish the prayer had been longer, than spend
half or a considerable part of the time in wishing it was
over. This is frequently owing to an unnecessary en-
largement upon every circumstance that offers, as well
as to the repetition of the same things. If we have been
copious in pleading for spiritual blessings, it may be
best to be brief and summary in the article of inter-
cession for others ; or if the frame of our spirits, or the
circumstances of affairs, lead us to be more large and
particular in laying the cases of others before the Lord,
respect should be had to this intention in the former
part of the prayer. There are, doubtless, seasons when
the Lord is pleased to favour those who pray with a pe-
<'uliar liberty ; they speak because they feel ; they ha^c
a wrestling spirit, and hardly know how to leave off.
When this is the case, they who join with them are
seldom wearied, though the prayer should be protracted
something beyond the usual limits. But I believe it some-
times happens, both in praying and in preaching, that
we ^re apt to spin out our time to the greatest length,
^hex\ we have in realitj the least to say. Long prawrs
236 On Social Fraycr. Let. 18.
should in general be avoided, especially where several
persons are to pray successively ; or else even spiritual
hearers will be unable to keep up their attention. And
here I would just notice an impropriety we sometimes
meet with, that when a person gives expectation that
he is just going to conclude his pra^-er, something not
thought of in its proper place occurring that instant to
his mind, leads him as it were to begin again. But un-
less it is a matter of singular importance, it would be
better omitted for that time.
The prayers of some good men arc more like preach-
ing than praying. They rather express the Lord's mind
to the people, than the desires of the people to the
Lord. Indeed this can hardly be called prayer. It
might in another place stand for part of a good sermon ;
but will afford little help to those who desire to pray
•with their hearts. Prayer should be sententious, and
made up of breathings to the Lord, either of confession,
petition, or praise. It should be not only scriptural
and evangehcal, but experimental, a simple and unstu-
died expression of the wants and feelings of the soul.
It will be so if the heart is lively and aifected in the
duty ; it must be so if the edification of others is the
point in view.
Several books have been written to assist in the gift
and exercise of prayer, as by Dr. Watts and others ;
and many useful hints may be borrowed from them ;
but a too close attention to the method and transitions
therein recommended, gives an air of study and forma-
lity, and offends against that simplicity which is so es-
sentially necessary to a good prayer, that no degree of
acquired abilities can compensate for the want of it. It
is possible to learn to pray mechanically, and by rule ;
but it is hardly possible to do so with acceptance, and
T.ct. 18. On Social Prayer. 237
benefit to others. When the several parts of invoca-
tion, adoration, confession, petition, &c. foUov*' each
other in a stated order, the hearer's mind generallj^ goes
before the speaker's voice, and we can form a tolerable
conjecture what is to come next. On this account Ave
often find, that unlettered people, who have had little
or no help from books, or rather have not been fettered
by them, can pray with an unction and savour in an
impremeditated way, while the prayers of persons of
much superior abilities, perhaps even of ministers them-
selves, are, though accurate and regular, so dr^ and
starched, that they afford little either of pleasure or
profit to a spiritual mind. The spirit of prayer is the
fruit and token of the Spirit of adoption. The studied
addresses with which some approach the throne of
grace, remind us of a stranger's coming to a great man's
door ; he knocks and waits, sends in his name, and goes
through a course of ceremony, before he gains admit-
tance ; while a child of the family uses no ceremony at
all, but enters freely when he pleases, because he knows
he is at home. It is true, we ought always to draw
near the Lord with great humiliation of spirit and a
sense of our unworthiness. But this spirit is not al-
ways best expressed or promoted by a pompous enu-
meration of the names and titles of the God with whom
we have to do, or by fixing in our minds beforehand the
exact order in which we propose to arrange the several
parts of our prayer. Some attention to method may
be proper, for the prevention of repetitions ; and plain
people may be a little defective in it sometimes ; but
this /iefect will not be half so tiresome and disagreea-
ble as a studied and artificial exactness.
^vlan}', perliaps most people who pray in public, have
some favourite word or expression which recurs too
S38 On Social Prayer . Let. 38,
often in their prayers, and is frequently used as a mere
expletive, having no necessary connexion with the sense
of what they are speaking. The most disagreeable of
these is, when the name of the blessed God, with the
addition of perhaps one or more epithets, as. Great,
Glorious, Holy, Almighty, 8^x. is introduced so often,
and without necessity, as seems neither to indicate a
due reverence in the person who uses it, nor suited to
excite reverence in those who hear. I will not say,
that this is taking the name of God in vain, in the usual
sense of the phrase : it is, however, a great impropriety,
and should be guarded against. It would be well if
they who use redundant expressions, had a friend to
give them a caution, as they might with a little care be
retrenched ; and hardly any person can be sensible of
the little peculiarities he may inadvertently adopt, un-
less he is told of it.
There are several things likewise respecting the voice
and manner of prayer, which a person may with due
-care correct in himself, and which, if generally cor-
rected, would make meetings for prayer more pleasant
than they sometimes are. These I shall mention by
pairs, as the happy and agreeable w^ay is a medium be-
tween two inconvenient extremes.
Very loud speaking is a fault, ^vhen the size of the
place, and the number of hearers, do not render it ne-
cessary. The end of speaking is to be heard : And,
when that end is attained, a greater elevation of the
voice is frequently hurtful to the speaker, and is more
likely to confuse a hearer than to fix his attention. I
•do not deny but allowance must be made for constitu-
tion, and the warmth of the passions, which dispose
some persons to speak louder than others. Yet such
will do well to restrain themselves as much as thej can.
Let. 18. On Social Prayer. 23^
It may seem indeed to indicate great earnestness, and
that the heart is much affected ; yet it is often but false
fire. It may be thought speaking with power ; but a
person who is favoured with the Lord's presence may
pray with power in a moderate voice ; and there may
be very little power of the Spirit, though the voice
should be heard in the street and neighbourhood.
The other extreme of speaking too low, is not so fre-
quent, but, if we are not heard, we might as well alto-,
gether hold our peace. It exhausts the spirits, and
wearies the attention, to be listening for a length of time
to a very low voice. Some words or sentences will be
lost, which will render what is heard less intelligible
and agreeable. If the speaker can be heard by the
person furthest distant from him, the rest will hear of
course.
The tone of the voice is likewise to be regarded
Some have a tone in prayer, so very different from their
usual way of speaking, that their nearest friends, if not
accustomed to them, could hardly know them by their
voice. Sometimes the tone is changed, perhaps more
than once, so that if our eyes did not give us more cer-
tain information than our ears, we might think two or
three persons had been speaking by turjis. It is pity
that when we approve what is spoken, we should be so-
easily disconcerted by an awkwardness of delivery; yet
so it often is, and probably so it will be, in the present
weak and imperfect state of human nature. It is more
to be lamented than wondered at, that sincere Chris-
tians are sometimes forced to confess, " He is a good
" man, and his prayers, as to their substance, are spi-
" ritual and judicious ; but there is something so dis-
" pleasing in his manner, that I am always uneasy when
'' I hear him."
240 On Social Prayer. Let. IS.
Cointrary to this, and still more offensive, is a custom
that some have of talking to the Lord in prayer. It is
their natm'al voice indeed; but it is that expression of it
which they use upon the most familiar and trivial occa-
sions. The human voice is capable of so many inflec-
tions and variations, that it can adapt itself to the dif-
ferent sensations of our mind, as joy, sorrow, fear, de-
sire, &c. If a man was pleading*; for his life, or ex-
pressing his thanks to the king for a pardon, common
sense and decency would teach him a suitableness of
manner ; and any one who could not understand his
language, might know by the sound of his words that
he Vi^as not making a bargain, or telling a story. How
much more, when we speak to the King of kings, should
the consideration of his glory, and our own vileness, and
of the important concerns we are engaged in before him,
impress us with an air of seriousness and reverence, and
prevent us from speaking to him as if he was altogether
such a one as ourselves ? The liberty to which we arc
called by the Gospel, does not at all encourage such a
pertness and familiarity as would be unbecoming to use
towards a fellow-worm who was a little advanced above
us in worldly dignity.
I shall be glad if these hints may be of any service
to those who desire to worship God in spirit and in
truth, and who v^ish that whatever has a tendency to
damp the spirit of devotion, either in themselves, or in
others, might be avoided. It is a point of delicacy and
difficulty to tell any one what we wish could be altered
in his manner of prayer ; but it can give no just offence
to ask a friend, if he has read a letter on this subject,
in A Collection of Twmty-siv Letters, published in
1775.
I am, &c.
Let. 19. On Controversy. 24:1
LETTER XIX.
On Coyitrovcrsy.
Dear Sir,
Ai
■S you are likely to be engaged in controversy, and
your love of truth is joined with a natural warmth of
temper, my friendship makes me solicitous on your be-
half. You are of the strongest side : for truth is great,
and must prevail ; so that a person of abilities inferior
to yours, might take the field with a confidence of vic-
tory. I am not, therefore, anxious for the event of the
battle ; but I would have you more than a conqueror^
and to triumph not only over your adversary, but over
yourself. If you cannot be vanquished, you may be
wounded. To preserve you from such wounds as
might give you cause of weeping over your conquests,
I would present you with some considerations, which,
if duly attended to, will do you the service of a coat of
mail ; such armour, that you need not complain, as
David did of Saul's, that it will be more cumbersome
than useful ; for you will easily perceive it is taken from
that great magazine provided for the Christian soldier,
the word of God. I take it for granted, that you will
not expect any apology for my freedom, and therefore
I shall not oti'er one. For method sake, I may reduce
cny advice to three heads, respecting your opponent, the
public, and yourself.
As to your opponent, I wish, that before you set pen
to paper against him, and during the whole time you
are preparing your answer, you may commend him by
earnest prayer to the Lord's teaching and blessing.
Vol. L 2 I
S4>2 On Controvenj/. Let. 19.
This practice viU have a direct tendency to conciliate
your heart to love and pity him ; and such a disposition
will have a good influence upon every page you write.
If you account him a believer, though greatly mistaken
in the subject of debate between you, the words of Da-
vid to Joab, concerning Absalom, are very applicable :
" Deal gently with him for my sake." The Lord loves
him and bears with him : therefore you must not des-
pise him, or treat him harshly. The I>ord bears with
you likewise, and expects that you should show tender-
ness to others, from a sense of the much forgiveness
you need yourself In a little while you will meet in
heaven ; he will then be dearer to you than the nearest
friend you have upon earth is to you now. Anticipate
that period in your thoughts ; and though you may find
it necessary to oppose his errors, view him personally
as a kindred soul, with whom you are to be happy in
Christ for ever. But if you look upon him as an un-
converted person, in a state of enmity against God and
his grace, (a supposition, which, without good evidence,
you should be very unwilling to admit,) he is a more
proper object of your compassion, than of your anger.
Alas ! " He knows not what he does." But you know
who has made you to differ. If God, in his sovereign
pleasure, had so appointed, you might have been as he
is now ; and he, instead of you, might have been set for
the defence of the Gospel. You were both equally
blind by nature. If you attend to this, you will not
reproach or hate him, because the Lord has been
pleased to open your eyes, and not his. Of all people
who engage in controversy, we, who are called Calvin-
ists, are most expressly bound by our own principles to
the exercise of gentleness and moderation. If, indeed,
the^ who differ from us have a power of changing them-
Let. 19. On Controversij, 243
selves, if they can open their own eyes, and soften their
own hearts, then we might with less inconsistence be
offended at their obstinacy ; but if we believe the very
contrary to this, our part is, not to strive, but in meek-
ness to instruct those who oppose, " if peraci venture
" God will give them repentance to the acknowledge-
" ment of the truth." If you write with a desire of be-
ing an instrument of correcting mistakes, you will of
course be cautious of laying stumbling-blocks in the
way of the blind, or of using any expressions that may
exasperate their passions, confirm them in their pre-
judices, and thereby make their conviction, humanly
speaking, more impracticable.
By printing, you will appeal to the public ; where
your readers may be ranged under three divisions. —
First, such as differ from you in principle. Concern-
ing these I may refer you to what I have already said.
Though you have your eye upon one person chiefly,
there are many like-minded with him ; and the same
reasonincp will hold, whether as to one or to a million.
There will be likewise many who pay too little regard
to religion, to have any settled system of their own, and
yet are pre-engaged in favour of those sentiments which
are least repugnant to the good opinion men naturally
have of themselves. These are very incompetent judges
of doctrines ; but they can form a tolerable judgment
of a writer's spirit. They know that meekness, humi-
lity, and love, are the characteristics of a Christian
temper ; and though they affect to treat the doctrines
of grace as mere notions and speculations, which, sup-
posing they adopted them, would have no salutary in-
fluence upon their conduct ; yet from us, who profess
these principles, they always expect such dispositions
as correspond with the precepts of the Gospel. They
244 On Controversy. Let. 19.
are quick-sighted to discern when we deviate from such
a spirit, and avail themselves of it to justify their con-
tempt of our arguments. The Scriptural maxim, That
" the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of
" God," is verified by daily observation. If our zeal
is embittered by expressions of anger, invective, or scorn,
we mav think we are doing service to the cause of truth
when in reality we shall only bring it into discredit.^ —
The weapons of our warfare, and which alone are
powerful to break down the strong holds of error, are
not carnal but spiritual ; arguments fairly drawn from
Scripture and experience, and enforced by such a mild
address, as may persuade our readers, that, whether we
can convince them or not, we wish well to their souls,
and contend only for the truth's sake ; if we can satisfy
them that we act upon these motives, our point is half
gained ; they will be more disposed to consider calmly
w'hat we offer ; and if they should still dissent from our
opinions, they will be constrained to approve our inten-
tions.
You will have a third class of readers, who being of
your own sentiments, will readily approve of what you
advance, and may be further established and confirmed
in their views of the Scripture-doctrines, by a clear and
masterly elucidation of your subject. You maybe in-
strumental to their edification, if the law of kindness as
well as of truth regulates your pen, otherwise you may
do them harm. There is a principle of self, which dis-
poses us to despise those who differ from us ; and we
are often under its influence, when we think we are only
showing a becoming zeal in the cause of God. I rea-
dily believe, that the leading points of Arminianism
spring from, and are nourished by, the pride of the hu-
man heart; but Tshould be glad if the reverse was al-
Let. 19. On Controversy, 315
ways true ; and that to embrace what are called the
Calvinistic doctrines was an infallible token of an hum-
ble mind. I think I have known some Arminians, that
is, persons, who for want of clearer light, have been
afraid of receiving the doctrines of free grace, who yet
have given evidence that their hearts were in a degree
humbled before the Lord. And I am afraid there
are Calvinists, who, while they account it a proof of
their humility, that they are willing in words to debase
the creature, and to give all the glory of salvation to
the Lord, yet know not what manner of spirit they are
of. Whatever it be that makes us trust in ourselves
that we are comparatively wise or good, so as to treat
those with contempt who do not subscribe to our doc-
trines, or follow our party, is a proof and fruit of a self-
righteous spirit. Self-righteousness can feed upon doc-
trines, as well as upon works ; and a man may have the
heart of a Pharisee, while his head is stored with or-
thodox notions of the unworthiness of the creature, and
the riches of free grace. Yea, I would add, the best
of men are not wholly free from this leaven ; and there-
fore are too apt to be pleased with such representatioiis
as hold up our adversaries to ridicule, and by conse-
quence flatter our own superior judgments. Contro-
versies, for the most part, are so managed as to indulge
rather than to repress this wrong disposition ; and there-
fore, generally speaking, they are productive of little
good. They provoke those whom they should con-
vince, and puff up those whom they should edify. I
hope your performance will savour of a spirit of true
humility, and be a means of promoting it in others.
This leads me, in the last place, to consider your
own concern in your present undertaking. It seems a
laudable service to defend the faith once delivered to
246 On Cofttroversy. Let. 19.
the saints ; we are commanded to contend earnestly for
it, and to convince gainsayers. If ever such defences
were seasonable and expedient, they appear to be so in
our day, when errors abound on all sides, and every
truth of the Gospel is either directly denied, or grossly
misrepresented. And yet we find but very few writers
of controversy who have not been manifestly hurt by it.
Either they grow in a sense of their own importance,
or imbibe an angry, contentious spirit, or they insensibly
withdraw their attention from those things which are
the food and immediate support of the life of faith, and
spend their time and strength upon matters which at
most are but of a secondary value. This shows, that
if the service is honourable, it is dangerous. What will
it profit a man if he gains his cause, and silences his
adversary, if at the same time he loses that humble
tender frame of spirit in which the Lord delights, and
to which the promise of his presence is made ! Your
aim, I doubt not, is good ; but you have need to watch
and pray, for you will find Satan at your right hand to
resist you : he will try to debase your views ; and
though you set out in defence of the cause of God, if
you are not continually looking to the Lord to keep
you, it may become your own cause, and awaken in
you those tempers which are inconsistent with true
peace of mind, and will surely obstruct communion
with God. Be upon your guard against admitting any
thing personal into the debate. If you think you have
been ill-treated, you will have an opportunity of show-
ing that you are a disciple of Jesus, who, '' when he
" was reviled, reviled not again ; when he suffered, he
" threatened not." This is our pattern, thus we are to
speak and write for God, " not rendering railing for
'' railing, but contrariwise blessing ; knowing that here-
Let. 20. On Co7iformity to tJie World. 247
" unto we are called." The wisdom that is from above
is not only pure, but peaceable and gentle ; and the
want of these qualifications, like the dead fly in the pot
of ointment, will spoil the savour and efficacy of our la-
bours. If we act in a wrong spirit, we shall bring little
glory to God, do little good to our fellow-creatures, and
procure neither honour nor comfort to ourselves. If
you can be content with showing your wit, and gaining
the laugh on your side, you have an easy task ; but I
hope you have a far nobler aim, and that, sensible of
the solemn importance of Gospel-truths, and the (Com-
passion due to the souls of men, you would rather be a
means of removing prejudices in a single instance, than
obtain the empty applause of thousands. Go forth;,
therefore, in the name and strength of the Lord of
Hosts, speaking the truth in love ; and may he give you
a witness in many hearts, that you are taught of God,
and favoured with the unction of his Holy Spirit.
I am, &c.
LETTER XX.
On Conformitij to the World.
Dear Sir,
OU will, perhaps, be surprised to see my thoughts
on your query in print, rather than to receive them by
the post, as you expected. But as the subject of it is
of general concern, I hope you will not be displeased
that I have taken this method. It would do honour to
the pen of an able casuist, and might be of considerable
service in the present day, clearly to explain the force
of the apostle's precept, '' Be not conformed to this
24S On Conformity to the WcyrhL Let. 20.
"world;" and to state the just boundary between a
sinful compliance with the world, and that scrupulous
singularity which springs from a self-righteous principle,
and a contracted view of the spirit and liberty of the
Gospel. To treat this point accurately, would require
a treatise rather than a letter ; I only undertake to olfer
you a few hints ; and indeed, when the mind is formed
to a spiritual taste, a simple desire to be guided by the
Word and Spirit of God, together with a due attention
to our own experience, will, in most practical cases,
supersede the necessity of long and elaborate disqui-
sitions.
By the world, in the passage alluded to, Rom. xii. 2.
I suppose the apostle means the men of the world, in
distinction from believers ; these, not having the love
of God in their hearts, or his fear before their eyes, are
of course engaged in such pursuits and practices as are
inconsistent with our holy calling, and in which we can-
not imitate or comply with them, without hurting our
peace and our profession. We are therefore bound to
avoid conformity to them in all such instances ; but we
are not obliged to decline all intercourse with the world,
or to impose restraints upon ourselves, when the Scrip-
ture does not restrain us, in order to make us as unlike
the world as possible. To instance in a few particu-
lars :
It is not necessary, perhaps it is not lawful, wholly
to renounce the society of the world. A mistake of
this kind took place in the early ages of Christianity,
and men, (at first, perhaps, with a sincere desire of
serving God without distraction,) withdrew into deserts
and uninhabited places, and wasted their lives at a dis-
tance from their fellow-creatures. But unless we could
flee from ourselves likewise, this would afford us no ad-
Let. 20. On Conformty to the World. ^9
vantage ; so long as we carry our own wicked hearts
\\ith us, we shall be exposed to temptation, go where
we will. Besides, this would be thwarting the end of
our vocation. Christians are to be the salt and the
lights of the world, conspicuous as cities set upon a hill;
they are commanded to "let their light shine before
•' men, that they, beholding their good works, may glo-
■' rify their Father who is in heaven." This injudi-
cious deviation from the paths of nature and providence,
gave occasion at length to the vilest abominations ; and
men who w ithdrew from the world, under pretence of
retirement, became the more wicked and abandoned,
as they lived more out of public view and observation.
Nor are we at liberty, much less are we enjoined, to
renounce the duties of relative life, so as to become
careless in the discharge of them. Allowances should,
indeed, be made for the distresses of persons newly
awakened, or under the power of temptation, which
may for a time so much engross their thoughts as
greatly to indispose them for their bounden duty. But,
in general, the proper evidence of true Christians is,
not merely that they can talk about divine things, but
that, by the grace of God, they live and act agreeable
to the rules of his word, in the state in which his pro-
vidence has placed them, whether as masters or ser-
vants, husbands or wives, parents or children ; bearing
rule, or yielding obedience, as in his sight. Diligence and
fidelity in the management of temporal concernments,
though observable in the practice of many worldly men,
may be maintained without a sinful conformity to the
world.
Neither are we required to refuse a moderate use of
the comforts and conveniences of life, suitable to the
station which God has appointed us in the world. The
Vol. I. £ K
350 0)1 Conj'ormitij lo the World. Let. 20.
spirit of self- righteousness and will-worship works much
in this way, and supposes tliat there is something ex-
cellent in long-fastings, in abstaining from pleasant food,
in wearing meaner clothes than is customary with those
in the same rank of life, and in many other austerities
and singularities not commanded by the word of God.
And many persons, who are in the main sincere, are
grievously burdened with scruples respecting the use of
lawful things. It is true, there is need of a constant
watch, lest what is lawful in itself become hurtful to
us by its abuse. But these outward strictnesses may be
carried to great lengths, without a spark of true grace,
and even without the knowledge of the true God. The
mortifications and austerities practised by theBramins in
India, (if the accounts we have of them be true,) are vastly
more severe than the most zealous effects of modern su-
perstition in our country. There is a strictness which
arises rather from ignorance than knowledge, is wholly
conversant about externals, and gratifies the spirit of
self as much in one way as it seems to retrench it in
another. A man may almost starve his body to feed his
pride : but to those who fear and serve the Lord, every
creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it
be received with thanksgiving, for it is sanctified by the
word of God and prayer.
Notwithstanding these limitations, the precept is very
extensive and important. " Be not conformed to the
" world." As believers, we are strangers and pilgrims
upon earth. Heaven is our country, and the Lord is
our King. We are to be known and noticed as his sub-
jects, and therefore it is his pleasure, that we do not
speak the language, or adopt the customs, of the land in
which we sojourn. We are not to conform to the world,
as we did in the days of our ignorance. And though
T.ei. 20. On Confonniti/ to tJic World, 251
we have received the principles of grace, and have
tasted of the goodness of the Lord, the admonition is
still needful ; for vve are renewed but in part, and are
liable to be drawn aside to our hurt by the prevalence
of evil examples and customs around us.
We must not conform to the spirit of the world. As
members of society, we have a part to act in it in common
with others. But if our business is the same, our prin-
ciples and ends are to be entirely different. Diligence
in our respective callings is, as I have already observed,
commendable, and our duty : but not with the same
views which stimulate the activity of the men of the
world. If they rise early, and take rest late, their en-
deavours spring from and terminate in self, to establish
and increase their own importance, to add house to
house, and field to field, that, like the builders of Babel,
they may get themselves a name, or provide means for
the gratification of their sinful passions. If they suc-
ceed, they sacrifice to their own net ; if they are crossed
in their designs, they are filled with anxiety and impa-
tience ; they either murmur or despond. But a Chris-
tian is to pursue his lawful calling with an eye to the
providence of God, and with submission to his wisdom.
Thus, so far as he acts in the exercise of faith, he can-
not be disappointed. He casts his care upon his Hea-
venly Father, who has promised to take care of him.
What he gives, he receives with thankfulness, and is
careful as a faithful steward to improve it for the fur-
therance of the cause of God, and the good of man-
kind ; and if he meets with losses and crosses, he is not
disconcerted, knowing that all his concerns are under a
divine direction ; that the Lord whom he serves, chooses
for him better than he could choose for himself; and
that his best treasure is safe, out of the reach of the
252 On Conformity to the World. Let. 20.
various changes to which all things in the present state
are liable.
We must not conform to the maxims of the world.
The world in various instances calls evil good, and good
evil. But we are to have recourse to the law and to the
testimony, and to judge of things by the unerring word of
God, uninfluenced by the determination of the great or
the many. We are to obey God rather than man,
though upon this account we may expect to be despised
or reviled, to be made a gazing-stock or a laughing stock
to those who set his authority at defiance. We must
bear our testimony to the truth as it is in Jesus, avow
the cause of his despised people, and walk in the prac-
tice of universal obedience, patiently endure reproaches,
and labour to overcome evil with good. Thus we shall
show that we are not ashamed of him. And there is
an hour coming when he will not be ashamed of us,
who have followed him, and borne his cross in the midst
of a perverse generation, but will own our worthless
names before the assembled world.
We must not conform to the world in their amuse-
ments and diversions. We are to mix with the world
so far as our necessary and providential connexions
engage us ; so far as we have a reasonable expectation
of doing or getting good, and no further. " What fel-
" lo^^ ship hath light with darkness, or what concord
" hath Christ with Belial?" What call can a believer
have into those places and companies, where every
thing tends to promote a spirit of dissipation ; where the
fear of God has no place ; where things are purposely
disposed to inflame or indulge corrupt and sinful appe-
tites and passions, and to banish all serious thoughts of
God and ourselves? If it is our duty to redeem time, to
walk with God, to do all things in the name of our Lord
Let. 90. On Conformity to the World. 253
Jesus Christ, to follow the example which he set us
when he was upon earth, and to work out our salvation
with fear and trcmblin<>; ; it must of course be our dutv
to avoid a conformity w ith the world in those vain and
sensual diversions, which stand in as direct contradic-
tion to a spiritual frame of mind as darkness to light.
The leading desires of every person under the influ-
ence of Gospel-principles, will be to maintain an ha-
bitual communion with God in his own soul, and to
manifest the power of his grace in the sight of men. So
far aG a Christian is infected by a conformity to the
spirit, maxims, and sinful customs of the world, these
desires will be disappointed. Fire and water are not
more opposite than that peace of God which passeth all
understanding, and that poor precarious pleasure which
is sought in a compliance with the world ; a pleasure,
(if worthy the name,) which grieves the Spirit of God,
and stupifies the heart. Whoever, after having tasted
that the Lord is gracious, has been prevailed on to
make the experiment, and to mingle with the world's
vanities, has certainly thereby brought a damp upon his
experience, and indisposed himself for the exercise of
prayer, and the contemplation of divine truths. And
if any are not sensible of a diiference in this respect, it
is because the poison has taken a still deeper eflfect, so
as to benumb their spiritual senses. Conformity to the
world is the bane of many professors in this day. They
have found a way, as they think, to serve both God and
Mammon. But because they are double-minded, they
are unstable ; they make no progress ; and, notwith-
standing their frequent attendance upon ordinances,
they are lean from day to day ; a form of godliness, a
scheme of orthodox notions they may attain to, but thev
will remain destitute of the life, po\^er, and comfort of
2o4! On Blhidmss. Let. 21.
religion, so long as they cleave to those things which
are incompatible with it.
Conformity to the world is equally an obstruction in
the way of those who profess a desire of glorifying God
in the sight of men. Such professors do rather disho-
nour him ; by their conduct, as far as in them lies, they
declare that they do not find the religion of the Gospel
answer their expectations ; that it does not afford them
the satisfaction they once hoped for from it ; and that
therefore they are forced to seek relief from the world.
They grieve the people of God by their compliances,
and oftentimes they mislead the weak, and by their
examples encourage them to venture upon the like li-
berties, which otherwise they durst not have attempted.
They embolden the wicked likewise in their evil ways,
w hile they see a manifest inconsistence between their
avowed principles and their practice ; and thus they
cause the ways of truth to be evil spoken of. The
paper constrains me to conclude abruptly : may the
Lord enable you and me to lay this subject to heart,
and to pray that we may, on the one hand, rightly un-
derstand and prize our Christian liberty ; and, on the
other hand, be preserved from that growing evil, a con-
formity to the world !
I am, &c.
LETTER XXL
i ivas once blind, hut now I siu;.
Dear Sir,
■V
X HE question, What is the discriminating character-
istic nature of a work of grace upon the soul ? has been
Let. 21. On Bliiuliwss, 255
upon my mind ; if I am able to give you satisfaction
concerning it, I shall think my time well employed.
The reason why men in a natural state are utterly ig-
norant of spiritual truths is^ that they are wholly desti-
tute of a faculty suited to their perception. A remark-
able instance we have in the absurd construction which
Nicodemus put upon what our Lord had spoken to him
concerning the new birth. And in the supernatural
communication of this spiritual faculty, by the agency
of the Holy Spirit, I apprehend the inimitable and abid-
ing criterion, which is the subject of our inquiry, does
primarily consist. Those passages of Scripture wherein
the gospel-truth is compared to light, lead to a familiar
illustration of my meaning. IMen by nature are stark
blind with respect to this light ; by grace the eyes of the
understanding are opened. Among a number of blind
men, some may be more ingenious and of better capa-
city than others. They may be better qualified for
such studies and employments which do not require
eye-sight than many who can see, and may attain to
considerable skill in them ; but with respect to the true
nature of light and colours, they are all exactly upon a
level. A blind man, if ingenious and inquisitive, may
learn to talk about the light, the sun, or the rainbow, in
terms borrowed from those who have seen them ; but
it is impossible that he can have, (I mean a man born
blind,) a just idea of either; and whatever hearsay-know-
ledge he may have acquired, he can hardly talk much
upon these subjects without betraying his real ignorance.
The case of one mentioned by Mr. Locke has been
often quoted. He believed, that after much inquiry
and reflection, he had at last found out what scarlet
was ; and being asked to explain himselt^ " I think,"
says he, " scarlet is something like the sound of a
2jG On Blindness. Let. 21.
" trumpet." This man had about the same knowledge
of natural light as Nicodemus had of spiritual. Nor
can all the learning or study in the world enable any
person to form a suitable judgment of divine truth, till
the eyes of his mind are opened, and then he will per-
ceive it at once.
Indeed, this comparison is well suited to show the en-
tire ditference between nature and grace, and to explain
the ground of that enmity and scorn which fills the
hearts of blinded sinners, against those who profess to
have been enlightened by the Spirit of God. The rea-
son why blind me a are not affronted when we tell them
they cannot see, seems to be, that they are borne down by
the united testimony of all who are about them. Every
one talks of seeing ; and they find by experience, that
those who say they can see can do many things which
the blind cannot. Some such conviction as this many
have, who live where the Gospel is preached, and is made
the power of God to the salvation of others. The con-
versation and conduct of the people of God convinces
them, that there is a difterence, though they cannot tell
wherein it consists. But if we could suppose it possi-
ble, that there was a whole nation of blind men, and one
or two persons should go amongst them, and profess
that they could see, while they could not offer them
such a proof of their assertion as they were capable of
receiving, nor even explain, to their satisfaction, what
they meant by sight ; what may we imagine would be
the consequence ? I think there is little doubt but these
innovators would experience much thesame treatmenta.>
the believers of Jesus often meet with from a blind worlil
The blind people would certainly hate and despise them
for i)resuming to pretend to what tliei/ had not. They
would try to dispute them out of their senses, and bring
Lot. 21. On Blindness. 257
many arguments to prove, that there could be no such
thing as either light or sight. They would say, as many
say now, How is it, if these things are so, that we should
know nothing of them ? Yea, I think it probable, they
would rise against them as deceivers and enthusiasts,
and disturbers of the public peace, and sa>, " Away
" with such fellows from the earth ; it is not fit that
" they should live." But if we should suppose further,
that during; the heat of the contest some of these blind
men should have their eyes suddenly opened, the dis-
pute as to them would be at an end in a minute ; they
would confess their former ignorance and obstinacy,
confirm the testimony of those whom they had before
despised, and of course share in the same treatment
from their blind brethren, perhaps be treated still worse^
as apostates from the opinion of the public.
If this illustration is justly applicable to our subject,
it may lead us to several observations, or inferences,
which have a tendency to confirm what Ave are else-
where expressly taught by the word of God.
In the first place, it shoAvs, that regeneration, or that
sreat change without which a man cannot see the kino-
dom of God, is the effect of Almighty power. Nei-
ther education, endeavours, nor arguments, can open the
eyes of the blind. It is God alone, who at first caused
light to shine out of darkness, who can shine into our
hearts, " to 2:ive us the li2;ht of the knowledge of the
*' glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." People
may attain some natural ideas of spiritual truths by
reading books, or hearing sermons, and may thereby
become wise in their ov,n conceits ; they may learn to
imitate the language of an experienced Christian ; but
they knovv' not what they say, nor whereof they affirm,
and are as distant from the true meaning of the terms,
^^OL. I. 2 L
^aS Oh Blindncsi. Let. 21^
as a blind man, \\\\o pronounces the words blue or redf
is from the ideas which those words raise in the mind
of a person who can distinguish colours l>y his sight.
And from hence "we may infer the sovereignty, as well
as the efficacy, of grace ; since it is evident, not only
that the objective light, the word of God, is not afforded
universally to all men ; but that those who enjoy the
same outward means, have not all the same perceptions.
There are many who stumble in the noon- day, not for
want of light, but for want of eyes : and they who now
see were once blind even as others, and had neither
power nor will to enlighten their own minds. It is a
mercy, however, when people are so far sensible of their
own blindness, as to be willing to wait for the mani-
festation of the Lord's power, in the ordinances of liis
own appointment. He came into the world, and he
sends forth his G ospel, that those who see not may see ;
and when there is a desire raised in the heart for spirit-
ual sight, it shall in his due time be answered.
From hence likewise we may observe the proper use
and value of the preaching of the Gospel, which is the
great instrument by which the Holy Spirit opens the
blind eyes. Like the rod of Moses, it owes all its effi-
cacy to the appointment and promise of God. i\Iinis-
ters cannot be too earnest in the discharge of their of-
iice; it behooves them to use all diligence to find out ac-
ceptable words, and to proclaim the Avhole counsel of
God. Yet when they have done all, they have done
nothing, unless their word is accompanied to the heart
by the power and demonstration of the spirit. With-
out this blessing, an apostle might labour in vain ; but
it shall be in a measure affiarded to all who preach the
truth in love, in simplicity, and in an humble depen-
dence upon him who alone can give success. Tliis in a
Let. 21. On Blindness, 259
.great measure puts all faithful ministers on a level, not-
Avithstanding any seeming disparity in gifts and abilities.
Those who have a lively and pathetic talent, may en-
gage the ear, and raise the natural passions of their
hearers ; but they cannot reach the heart. The bles-
sing may be rather expected to attend the humble than
the voluble speaker.
Further we may remark, that there is a difference in
kind, between the highest attainments of nature, and
the effects of grace in the lowest degree. Many are
convinced, m ho are not truly enlightened ; are afraid of
the consequences of sin, though they never saw its evil ;
have a seeming; desire of salvation, which is not founded
upon a truly spiritual discovery of their own wretched-
ness, and the excellency of Jesus. These may, for a
season, hear the w ord with joy, and walk in the way of
professors ; but we need not be surprised if they do not
hold out, for they have no root. Though many such
fall, the foundation of God still standeth sure. We
may confidently affirm, upon the warrant of Scripture,
that they who, having for a Avhile escaped the pollu-
tions of the world, are again habitually entangled in
them, or w ho, having been distressed upon the account
of sin, can find relief in a self-righteous course, and
stop short of Christ, " who is the end of the law for righ-
" teousness to every one that believeth ;" we may affirm
that these, whatever profession they may have made,
were never capable of receiving the beauty and glory of
the Gospel-salvation. On the other hand, though, w here
the eyes are divinely enlightened, the sohI's first views
of itself and of the Gospel may be confused and indis-
tinct, like iiim who saw men as it were trees Malkin? •
yet this light is like the daw n, which, though weak and
If-^
260 ~ On Blhichiess. Let. 21.
faint at its first appearance, shineth more and more
unto the perfect day. It is the work of God ; and his
work is perfect in kind, though progressive in the man-
ner. He will not despise or forsake the day of small
things. When he thus begins, he will make an end ;
and such persons, however feeble, poor, and worthless,
in their own apprehensions, if they have obtained a
glimpse of the Redeemer's glory, as he is made unto
us, of God, ^\'isdom, righteousness, sanctification, and
redemption, so that his name is precious, and the de-
sire of their hearts is towards him, have good reason
to hope and believe, as the wife of Manoah did in a
similar case, that if the Lord had been pleased to kill
them, he would not have showed them such things as
these.
Once more : This spiritual sight and faculty is that
which may be principally considered as inherent in a
believer. He has no stock of grace, or comfort, or
strength in himself. He needs continual supplies ; and
if the Lord v.'ithdraws from him, he is as weak and un-
skilful, after he has been long engaged in the Christian
warfare, as he was when he first entered upon it. The
eye is of little present use in the dark ; for it cannot see
without lisht. But the return of lidit is no advan-
tage to a blind man. A believer may be much in the
dark ; but his spiritual sight remains. Though the ex-
ercise of grace may be low, he knows himself, he knows
the Lord, he knows the way of access to a throne of
grace. His frames and feelings may alter ; but he has
received such a knowledge of the person and offices, the
power and grace of Jesus the Saviour, as cannot be
taken from him ; and he could withstand even an angel
that should preach another gospel, because he has seen
Let. 22. On the Advantages of Poverty. 261
the Lord. The paper constrains me to break off. May
the Lord increase his light in your heart, and in the
heart of, &c.
LETTER XXII.
On the Advantages of a State of Poverty.
My Dear Friend,
A CONFESS myself ahnost ashamed to write to you.
You are pinched by poverty, suffer the want of many
things ; and your faith is often sharply tried, when you
look at your family, and perhaps can hardly conceive
how you shall be able to supply them with bread to the
end of the week. The Lord has appointed me a dif-
ferent lot. I am favoured, not only with the necessaries,
but with the comforts of life. Now I could easily give
you plenty of good advice; I could tell you, it is your
duty to be patient, and even thankful, in the lower state ;
that if you have bread and water, it is more than you
deserve at the Lord's hands ; and that, as you are out
of hell, and made a partaker of the hope of the Gospel,
you ought not to think any thing- hard that you meet
with in the way to heaven. If I should say thus, and
say no more, you would not dispute the truth of my as-
sertions ; but, as coming from me, who live at ease, t©
you, who are beset with difficulties, you might question
their propriety, and think that I know but little of my
own heart, and could feel but little for your distress.
You would probably compare me to one who should
think himself a mariner, because he had studied the art
of navigation by the fire-side, though he had never seen
the sea. Yet I hope, by my frequent converse with the
262 Onthe Adva)aages of Fovcritj. Lst. 22.
Lord's pocr, (for I live in the midst of an afflicted and
})Oor people,) I have made some observations, which,
though not strictly the fruit of my own experience, may
not be wholly unseasonable or unacceptable to you.
Whether the rich or the poor, av ho live without God
in the world, are most to be pitied, is not easy to deter-
mine. It is a dreadful case to be miserable in both
worlds ; but yet the parade and seeming prosperity in
which some live for a few years, will be no abatement,
but rather a great aggravation, of their future torment.
A madman is equally to be pitied, whether he is laid
upon a bed of state or a bed of straw. Madness is in
the heart of every unregenerate sinner ; and the more
he possesses of this world's goods, he is so much the
niore extensively mischievous. Poverty is so far a ne-
gative good to those who have no other restraint, that
it confines the effects of the evil heart within narrower
bounds, and the small circle of their immediate connex-
ions : whereas the rich, who live under the power of
sin, are unfaithful stewards of a larger trusty and b}''
their pernicious influence are often instrumental in dif-
fusing profaneness and licentiousness through a country
or a kingdom ; besides the innumerable acts of oppres-
sion, and the ravages of war, which are perpetrated to
gratify the insatiable demands of luxury, ambition, and
pride. But to leave this, if we turn our eyes from the
false maxims of the world, and weigh things in the ba-
lance of the sanctuary, I believe we shall find, that the
believing poor, though they have many trials which call
for our compassion, have some advantages above those
of the Lord's people to whom he has given a larger
share of the good things of the present life. Why else
does the apostle say, " God has chosen the poor?" or
why do we see, in fact, that so few of the rich, or wise,
Let. 22. On tJhc Advantages of Toverty, 36 S
or mighty, are called ? Certainly he does not choose
them because they are poor ; for " he is no respecter
" of persons ;" rather I think we may say, that knowing
what is in their hearts, the nature of the world through
which they are to pass, and what circumstances are
best suited to manifest the truth and efficacy of his
grace, he has, in the general, chosen poverty as the best
state for them. Some exceptions he has made, that his
people may not be wholly without support and counte-
nance, and that the sufficiency of his grace may be made
known in every state of life ; but, for the most part, they
are a poor and afflicted people : and in this appoint-
ment he has had a regard to their honour, their safety,
and their comfort. I have room for but a very brief
illustration of these particulars.
Sanctified poverty is an honourable state ; not so in-
deed in the judgment of the world ; the rich have
many friends, the poor are usually despised. But I am
speaking of that honour which cometh from God only.
The poor, who are " rich in faith, and heirs of the
" kingdom," are honoured with the nearest external
conformity to Jesus their Saviour ; who, though he was
l.ord of all, was pleased for our sakes to make himself
so poor that he had not where to lay his head, and
submitted to receive assistance from the contributions
of his followers ; Luke viii. 3. By this astonishing
humiliation, he poured contempt upon all human glory,
and made the state of poverty honourable ; and now
" he that reproaches the poor, despiseth his maker."
And as he was, so were his apostles in the world. They
were not only destitute of rank, titles, and estates, but
were often in hunger and nakedness, and had no certain
dwelling-place. To infer from hence, as some have
done, that riches, and the accommodations of life, are
264 On the Advantages of Povertrj. Let. 22.
unsuitable to the state of a Christian, is the mark of a
superstitious and legal spirit. There were in those
days several believers that were in a state of af-
fluence ; as for instance, Theophilus, whom Luke ad-
dresses by a title of honour, K(xria--i, most noble or excel-
lent ; the same which St. Paul ascribes to the Roman
Governor. But we may safely infer, that that state
of life in which our Lord was pleased to converse
with men, and which was the lot of his apostles, and
most favoured servants, is honourable in the sight of
God.
Again : Poverty is honourable, because it affords a
peculiar advantage for glorifying God, and evidencing
the power of his grace, and the faithfulness of his pro-
mises, in the sight of men. A beiievei', if rich, lives
by faith ; and his faith meets with various trials. He
himself knows by v.hom he stands ; but it is not ordi-
narily so visible to others, as in the case of the poor.
When ministers speak of the all- sufficiency of God to those
who trust in him, and the certain effect of the principles of
the Gospel, in supporting, satisfying, and regulating the
mind of man, the poor are the best and most unsuspect-
ed witnesses for the truth of their doctrine. If we are
asked. Where do these wonderful people live, who can
delight themselves in God, esteem a dav in his courts
better than a thousand, and prefer the light of his coun-
tenance to all earthly joy ? \Ve can confidently send
them to the poor of the flock. Amongst the number
w'ho are so called, there are some who will not disap-
point our appeal. Let the world, who refuse to believe
the preachers, believe their own eyes ; and when they
see a poor person content, thankful, rejoicing, admiring
the Lord's goodness for affording him ^\•hat they account
bard fare, and, in the midst oi various pressures, in-
Let. 22. On the Advantages of Poverty. 26l
capable of being bribed by offers, or territied by threats,
to swerve a step from the path of known duty, let them
acknowledge that this is the finger of God. If they
harden themselves against this evidence, "neither would
" they be persuaded^ though one should arise from the
'' dead."
And as poverty is an honourable, so it is compara-
tively a safe state. True, it is attended with its pecu-
liar temptations ; but it is not near so suitable to draw
forth and nourish the two grand corruptions of the
heart, self-importance, and an idolatrous cleaving to
the world, as the opposite state of riches. They who
are rich in this world, and who know the Lord and their
own hearts, feel the wisdom and propriety of the apostle s
charge, " Not to be high-minded, nor to trust in uncer-
" tain riches." If poor believers consider the snares to
which their rich brethren are exposed, they will rather
pray for and pity, than envy them. Their path is slip-
pery ; they have reason to cry continually "^ Hold
" thou me up, and I shall be safe :" for they live in
the midst of the hurries and vanities of the world, are
engaged in a large sphere of action, and are incessantly
exposed to interruptions and snares. The carriage of all
around them reminds them of their supposed conse-
quence ; and, by the nature of their situation, they are
greatly precluded from plain dealing and friendly ad-
vice. But the poor are not surrounded with flatterers,
nor teased willi impertinences. They meet with little
to stimulate their pride, or to soothe their vanity. They
not only believe in their judgments, but are constrained
to feci, by the experience of every day, that this world
cannot aiibrd them rest. If they have food and rai-
ment, and grace therewith to be content, they have rea-
son to be thankful for an exemption from those splendid
Vol. I. 2 M
266 On the Advaiiiages of Poverty. Let. 22.
cares, and delusive appearances, which are the insepara-
ble attendants of wealth and worldly distinction; and
which, if not more burdensome, are, humanly speaking,
much more dangerous, and greater impediments to the
progress of a spiritual life, than the ordinary trials of the
poor.
The believing poor have likewise, for the most part,
the advantage in point of spiritual comfort ; and that
principally in tuo respects. First, As they are called
to a life of more immediate dependence upon the pro-
mise and providence of God, (having little else to trust
to,) they have a more direct and frequent experience of
his interposition in their favour. Obadiah was a ser-
vant of God, though he lived in the court of Ahab. He,
doubtless, had his difficulties in such a situation; but he
was not in want. He had not only enough for himself
in a time of dearth, but was able to impart to others.
We may believe, that he well knew^ he was indebted to
the Lord's goodness for his provision ; but he could
hardly have so sweet, so strong, so sensible an im-
pression of God's watchful care over him as Elijah had,
who, when he was deprived of all human support, was
statedly fed by the ravens. Such of the Lord's people
who have estates in land, or thousands in the bank, will
acknowledge, that even the bread they eat is the gift of
the Lord's bounty ; yet, having a moral certainty of a
provision for life, I should apprehend that they can-
not exercise faith in tlie divine Providence, with re-
spect to their temporal supplies, so distinctly as the
poor, who, having no friend or resource upon earth,
are necessitated to look immediately to their Father
who is in heaven for their daily bread. And though
it is not given to the world to know what an inter-
course is cairied on between heaven and earth, nor
Let. 22. On the AdvaJttages of Poverty. 2&J
with what acceptance the prayers of the poor and af-
flicted enter into the ears of the Lord of hosts ; yet
many of them have had such proofs of his attention,
wisdom, faithfulness, power, and love, in supplying their
wants, and opening them a way of relief, when they have
been beset with difficulties on all sides, as have been, to
themselves at least, no less certain and indisputable, I
had almost said no less glorious, than the miracles which
he wrought for Israel when he divided the Red- sea be-
fore them, and gave them food from the clouds. Such
evidences of the power of faith, the efficacy of prayer, and
the truth of the Scriptures, (preferable to mountains of
gold and silver, and for which the state of poverty fur-
nishes the most frequent occasions,) are a rich overba-
lance for all its inconveniences. But,
Secondly, I apprehend that the humble and believing
poor have, in general, the greatest share of those conso-
lations which are the effect of the light of God's coun-
tenance lifted up upon the soul, of his love shed abroad
in the heart, or of a season of refreshment from his pre-
sence. By such expressions as these, the Scripture in-
timates that " joy unspeakable and full of glory ;" a
description of which those who have tasted it will not
require, and those who are strangers to it could not un-
derstand. This joy is not always the companion of
faith, not even of strong faith ; but it is that which a
believer, whether rich or poor, incessantly thirsts after;
and, in comparison whereof^ all worldly good is but
vanity and disappointment. The Lord imparts this joy
to his people, in season and measure, as he sees fit : but
his poor people have the largest share. They have little
comfort from the world, therefore he is pleased to be
their comforter. They have many trials and sufferings ;
and he with whom they have to do knows their situation
2G8 On the Advantages of Poverty. Let. 22.
and pressures : he has promised to make their strength
equal to their day, and to revive their fainting spirits
Avith heavenly cordials. When it is thus with them,
they can say, with Jacob, " I have enough ;" or, as it
is in the orio;inal, " I have all." This makes hard things
easy, and the burden light, which the flesh would other-
wise complain of as heavy. This has often given a
sweeter relish to bread and water, than the sensualist
ever found in the most studied and expensive refine-
ments of luxury. Blessed are the poor who are rich in
faith, and heirs of the kingdom which God has promised
to them that love him. They often enjoy the most
lively foretastes of the glory which shall be revealed.
Have not you, my friend, found these things true in
your own experience ? Yes ; the Lord has sanctified
your crosses, and supported you under them. Hitherto
he has helped you, and he will be with you to the end.
As you have followed him upon earth, you will ere long
follow him to heaven. *' You are now called to sow
" in tears, there you shall reap in joy, and God shall
" wipe all tears from your eyes." In the meantime,
be thankful that he honours you, in appointing you to
be a witness for the truth and power of his grace, in
the midst of an unbelieving world.
It is true, that even where the spirit is willing, the
flesh is weak. You have sharp trials, which, for the
present, cannot be joyous, but grievous ; and you have,
doubtless, felt the depravity of your nature, and the sub-
tlety of Satan, at sometimes prompting you to im[)a-
tience, envy, and distrust. But these evils are not pe-
culiar to a state of poverty ; you would have been ex-
posed to the same had you lived in affluence, together
with many others, from which you are now exempted :
for riches and poverty are but comparative terms, and
L<3t. 22. On the Advantages of Poverty. g(J9
it is only the grace of God can teach us to be content
in any possible situation of life. The rich are as prone
to desire something which they have not as the poor ;
and they who have most to lose, have most to fear.
That a man's life, (the happiness of hb life,) " consisteth
'' not in the abundance of the things which he possess-
" eth," is an aphorism founded upon the highest au-
thority, and confirmed by universal experience and ob-
servation.
In a word, you are not poor, but rich. The pro-
mises are your inheritance : — heaven is your home ; —
the angels of the Lord are ministering spirits, who re-
joice to watch over you for good ; and the Lord of an-
gels himself is your sun and shield, and everlasting por-
tion. It is impossible that you, to whom he has given
Himself, his Son, his Spirit, his grace, his kingdom, can
want any thing that is truly good for you. If riches
were so, he could pour them upon you in abundance,
as easily as he provides you your daily bread. But
these, for the most part, he bestows on those who have
no portion but in the present life. You have great rea-
son to rejoice in the lot he has appointed for you, which
secures you from numberless imaginary wants and real
dangers, and furnishes you with the fairest opportunities
for the manifestation, exercise, and increase of the
graces he has implanted in you. Influenced by these
views, I trust you can cheerfully say,
What others value, I resign :
Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine.
I commend you to the blessing of our covenant Godj>
and to Jesus our Saviour, " who, when he was rich,
" made himself poor for our sakes, that we through his
" poverty might be rich."
I ara, &c.
370 On SimpliciUj and Sincerittj. Let. 23.
LETTER XXIII.
On Simplicity a?id Godly Sincerity,
Dear Sir,
XT would be a happy time if all professors of the Gos-
pel could, with the apostle, rejoice in the testimony of
their consciences, that they walked in simplicity and
godly sincerity. How many evils and scandals would
be then prevented ! But, alas ! too many who name
the name of Christ seem to have hardly any idea of this
essential part of the Christian character. A few thoughts
upon a subject so little attended to may not be unsea-
sonable. The most advanced in the Christian life have
something of this lesson yet to learn ; and the greater
proficiency we make in it, the greater will be our in-
ward peace, and the more will our light shine before
men, to the glory of our heavenly Father.
Simplicity and sincerity, though inseparable, may be
distinguished. The former is the principle from which
the latter is derived. Simplicity primarily respects the
frame of our spirit in the sight of God; sincerity more
directly regards our conduct as it falls under the obser-
vation of men. It is true, tiie terms are frequentl}' used
indifferently for each other, and may be so without oc-
casioning any considerable mistake : but as they are not
precisely the same, it may be proper, if we would speak
accurately, to keep this distinction in view.
Some persons who have been more enamoured with
the name of Simplicity than acquainted with its nature,
have substituted in its stead a childishness of language
and manners, as if they understood the word iiwple
Let. 23. On Simplicity arid Sincerity. 3T1
only in the mere vulgar sense, as equivalent to foolish.
But this infantine softness gives just disgust to those who
have a true taste and judgment of divine things ; not
only as it is an unnecessary deviation from the common
usages of mankind, but because, being the effect of art
and imitation, it palpably defeats its own pretences.
An artificial or affected simplicity is a contradiction in
terms, and differs as much from the simplicity of the
Gospel as paint does from beauty.
The true simplicity, which is the honour and strength
of a believer, is the effect of a spiritual perception of the
truths of the Gospel. It arises from, and bears a pro-
portion to the sense we have of our own unworthiness,
the power and grace of Christ, and the greatness of our
obligations to him. So far as our knowledo-e of these
things is vital and experimental, it will make us simple-
hearted. This simplicity may be considered in two re-
spects : a simplicity of intention — and a simplicity of
dependence. The former stands in opposition to the
corrupt workings of self, the latter to the false reason-
ings of unbelief.
Simplicity of intention implies, that we have but
one leadino; aim, to which it is our deliberate and unre-
served desire, that every thing else in which we are con-
cerned may be subordinate and subservient. In a word,
that we are devoted to the Lord, and have by grace
been enabled to choose him, and to yield ourselves to
him, so as to place our happiness in his favour, and to
make his glory and will the ultimate scope of all our ac-
tions. He well deserves this from us. He is the all-
sufficient good. He alone is able to satisfy the vast ca-
pacity he has given us ; for he formed us for himself:
and they who have tasted he is gracious, know that
" his loving kindness is better than life ;" and that his pre-
272 On Simplicity and Si^iceriiy. Let. 23,
sence and fulness can supply the want, or make up the
loss of all creature-comforts. So likewise he has a just
claim to us that we should be wholly his : for, besides
that, as his creatures, we are in his hand as clay in the
hands of the potter, he has a redemption-title to us. He
loved us, and bought us with his own blood. He did not
hesitate or halt between two opinions, when he engaged
to redeem our souls from the curse of the law, and the
power of Satan. He could, in the hour of his distress,
have summoned legions of angels, (had that been needful,)
to his assistance, or have destroyed his enemies with a
word or a look ; he could easily have saved himself :
but how then could his people have been saved, or the
promises of the Scripture have been fulfilled? Therefore
he willingly endured the cross, he gave his back to the
smiters, he poured out his blood, he laid down his life.
Here was an adorable simplicity of intention in him ;
and shall we not, O thou lover of souls ! be simply,
heartily, and wholly thine ? Shall we refuse the cup of
affliction from thy hand, or for thy sake ? Or shall we
desire to drink of the cup of sinful pleasure, when we
remember what our sins have cost thee ? Shall we w ish
to beloved by the world that hated thee, or to be admired
by the world that despised thee ? Shall we be ashamed
of professing our attachment to such a Saviour r Nay,
Lord, forbid it. Let thy love constrain us, let thy name
be glorified, and thy will be done by us and in us. " Let
" us count all things loss and dung, for the excellency
" of the knowledge of Christ Jesus our Lord." Let us
not desire any thing thou seest fit to withhold, nor re-
pine to part with what thou callest for ; nor even take
pleasure in what thou bestowest, unless we can improve
it for thee, and ever prefer thy love above our chief
temporal joy ! Such is the language of the heart that is
Let. 23, On Simplicity and Sinceritij. 273
blessed with Gospel-simplicity. It was once the strong-
hold of sin, the throne of self; but now self is cast down,
and Jesus rules by the golden sceptre of love. This
principle preserves the soul from low, sordid, and idola--
trous pursuits, will admit of no rival near the beloved,
nor will it yield either to the bribes or threats of the
world.
There is likewise a simplicity of dependence. Unbe-
lief is continually starting objections, n)agnifying and
multiplying difficulties. But faith in the power and pro-
mises of God, inspires a noble simplicity, and casts every
care upon him, who is able and has engaged to support
and provide. Thus, when Abraham, at the Lord's call,
forsook his country and his father's house, the apostle
observes, " He went out, not knowing whither he
" went." It was enough that he knew whom he Jol-
lozvad. The all-sufficient God was his guide, his shield,
and his exceeding great reward. So when exercised with
long waiting for the accomplishment of a promise, he
staggered not, ov ^iSKpiSn, he did not dispute or question,
but simply depended upon God, who had spoken, and
was able also to perform. So likewise when he received
that hard command, to offer up his son, of whom it was
said, " In Isaac shall thy seed be called," he simply
obeyed, and depended upon the Lord to make good his
own vvord, Heb. xi, 18, 19- In this spirit David went
forth to nieet Goliah, and overcame him : and thus the
three worthies were unawed by the threats of Nebu-
chadnezzar, and rather chose to be cast into a burning
furnace than to sin against the Lord. And thus Elijah
in a time of famine, was preserved from anxiety and
want, and supported by extraordinary methods, 1 Kings
j. 14. In these times we do not expect miracles, in
the strict sense of the word ; but thev who simply de--
Vox,. I. 2 N
374 On SimpUdty and Sinceritij. Let. 2;J.
pend upon the Lord, will meet with such tokens of his
interposition in a time of need, as will, to themselves at
least, be a satisfying proof that he careth for them.
How comfortable is it to us, as well as ornamental to
our profession, to be able to trust the Lord in the path
of duty ! To believe that he will supply our wants, di-
rect our steps, plead our cause, and control our ene-
mies ! Thus he has promised, and it belongs to Gospel-
simplicity to take his word against all discouragements.
This will animate us in the use of all lawful means, be-
cause the Lord has commanded us to wait upon him in
them : but it will likewise inspire confidence and hope
when all means seem to fail, Hab. iii. 17, J 8. For
want of this dependence many dishonour their profes-
sion, and even make shipwreck of the faith. Their
hearts are not simple ; they do not trust in the Lord,
but lean unto their own understandings, and their hopes
or fears are influenced by worms like themselves. This
causes a duplicity of conduct. They i^ear the T^rd,
and serve other gods. By their language, at some times,
one would suppose they desire to serve the Lord only;
but, as if they feared that he was not able to protect
or provide for them, they make a league with the world^
and seek either security or advantage from sinful com-
pliances. These cannot rejoice in the testimony of a
good conscience. They must live miserably. They
are attempting to reconcile what our Lord has declared
to be utterly incompatible, the service of God and Mam-
mon. They have so much sense of religion as embit-
ters their worldly pursuits ; and so much regard to the
world as prevents their receiving any real comfort front
religion. These are the lukev\arm professors, neither
hot nor cold ; neither approved of men, nor accepted of
God, They can attend upon ordinances, and speak
Let. 23. On Simplicity ami Sincerity. STS
like Christians ; but their tempers are unsaiictified, and
their conduct irregular and blameable. They are not
simple ; and therefore they cannot be sincere.
I need not take time to prove, that the effect of sim-
plicity will be sincerity. For they who love the Lord
above all, who prefer the light of his countenance to
thousands of gold and silver, who are enabled to trust
him with all their concerns, and would rather be at his
disposal than at their own, will have but little tempta-
tion to insincerity. The principles and motives upon
which their conduct is formed, are the same in public
as in private. Their behaviour will be all of a piece,
because thev have but o?ie design. They will speak
the truth in love, observe a strict punctuality in their
dealings, and do unto others as they would others
should do unto them ; because these things are essen-
tial to their great aim of glorifying and enjoying their
Lord. A fear of dishonouring his name, and of griev^-
ing his spirit, mIU teach them not only to avoid gross
and known sins, but to abstain from all appearance of
evil. Their conduct will therefore be consistent ; and
they will be enabled to appeal to all who know them,
'^that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not in fleshly
" wisdom, but by the grace of God, they have had their
*' conversation in the world."
To a sincere Christian, that craft and cunning which
passes for wisdom in the world, appears to be not only
unlawful but unnecessary. He has no need of the little
reserves, evasions, and disguises, by which designing
men endeavour, (though often in vain,) to conceal their
proper characters, and to escape deserved contempt.
He is what he seems to be, and therefore is not afraid
of being foiaid out. He walks by the light of the wis-
Aom that is from above, and leans upon the arm of al-
2?6 On Comimniion w'Uh God. Let. 24»
mighty power; therefore he walks at liberty, trusting in
the Lord, uhom he serves with his spirit in the Gospel
of his Son^
I am, &c.
LETTER XXIV.
On Communion with GocL
Deal' Sir,
Ti
HOUGH many authors have written largely and
well concerning communion with God, I shall not refer
you to books, or have recourse to them myself ; but, in
compliance with your request, shall simply offer you
what occurs to my thoughts upon the subject. I pro-
pose not to exceed the limits of a sheet of paper, and
must therefore come immediately to the point.
That God is to be worshipped, is generally acknow-
ledged; but that they who worship him in spirit, and in
truth, have real fellowship and communion with him,
is known only to themselves. The world can neither
understand nor believe it. ]\Iany who would not be
thought to have cast off all reverence for the Scripture,
and therefore do not choose flatly to contradict the apos-
tle's testimony, 1 John i. 3, attempt to evade its force
by restraining it to the primitive times. They will al-
low that it might be so then ; but they pretend that cir-
cumstances with us are 2;reatlv altered. Circumstances
are, indeed, altered with us, so far, that men may now
pass for Christians who confess and manifest themselves
strangers to the Spirit of Christ: but who can believe
that the very nature and design of Christianity should
alter in the course of time r and that communion with
Let. 24. On Convmniion with God, 277
God, \vliich was essential to it in the apostle's days,
should be now so unnecessary and impracticable, as to
expose all who profess an acquaintance with it, to the
charge of enthusiasm and folly ? However, they who
have tasted that the Lord is gracious, will not be dis-
puted out of their spiritual senses. If they are compe-
tent judges whether they ever saw the light, or felt the
beams of the sun, they are no less certain that, by the
knowledge of the Gospel, they are brought into a state
of communion with God.
Communion presupposes union. By nature we are
strangers, yea, enemies to God ; but we are reconciled,
brought nigh, and become his children, by faith in Christ
Jesus. We can have no true knowledge of God, de-
sire tOM-ards him, access unto him, or gracious commu-
nications from him, but in and through the Son of his
love. He is the medium of this inestimable privilege :
for he is the way, the only vvay, of intercourse between
heaven and earth ; the sinner's way to God, and God's
way of mercy to the sinner. If any pretend to know
God, and to have communion with him, otherwise than
by the knowledge of Jesus Christ, whom he hath sent,
and by faith in his name, it is a proof that they neither
know God nor themselves. God, if considered abstract-
ed from the revelation of himself in the person of Jesus,
is a consuming fire; and if he should look upon us with-
out respect to his covenant of mercy established in the
INIediator, we could expect nothing from him but indig-
nation and wrath. But when his Holy Spirit enables
us to receive the record which he has given of his Son,
we are delivered and secured from condemnation ; we
are accepted in the Beloved ; we are united to him in
xvhom allthefulnessof the Godhead substantially dwells.
27S On Conwrnnion with God. Let. 24
and all the riches of divine wisdom, power, and love,
are treasured up. Thus in him, as the temple wherein
the glory of God is manifested; and by him, as the repre-
sentative and high priest of his people; and through him,
as the living head of his mystical body the church, be-
lievers maintain communion with God. They have
meat to eat which the world knows not of, honour which
Cometh of God only, joy which a stranger intermeddleth
not with. They are for the most part poor and afflict-
ed, frequently scorned and reproached, accounted hy-
pocrites or visionaries, knaves or fools ; but this one
thing makes amends for all, " they have fellowship with
*' the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ."
I would observe further, that as the incarnation of
that Mighty One, on whom our help is laid, was neces-
sary, that a perfect obedience to the law, and a complete
and proper atonement for sin, might be accomplished
in the human nature that had sinned, and fallen short
of the glory of God ; so, in another view, it affords us
unspeakable advantage for our comfortable and intimate
communion with God by him. The adorable and awful
perfections of Deity are softened, if I may so speak, and
rendered more familiar and engaging to our apprehen-
sions, when we consider them as resident in him, who
is very bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh ; and
who, having by himself purged our sins, is now seated
on the right hand of the IMajesty on high, and reigns in
the nature of man, over all, God blessed for ever. Thus
he who knows our frame, by becoming man like our-
selves, is the supreme and ultimate object of that phi-
lanthropy, that human affection, which he originally im-
planted in us. lie has made us susceptible of the en-
dearments of friendship and relative life ; and he ad-
Let. 2-i. On Communion ivith God. 279
mils us to comumnion with himself under the most en-
gaging characters and relations, as our friend, our bro-
ther, and our husband.
They who, by that faith which is of the operation of
God, are thus united to him in Christ, are brought
tlicreby into a state of real habitual communion with
him. The degree of its exercise and sensible percep-
tion on our parts, is various in different persons, and in
the same person at different times ; for it depends upon
the communications we receive from the Lord, the
Spirit, who distributes to every man severally according
to his will, adjusting his dispensations with a wise and
merciful respect to our present state of discipline. If
we were wholly freed from the effects of a depraved
nature, the snares of an evil world, and the subtle temp-
tations of Satan, our actual communion with God would,
be always lively, sensible, and fervent. It will be thus
in heaven ; there its exercise will be without obstruc-
tion, abatement, or interruption. But so long as we are
liable to security, spiritual pride, indolence, an undue
attachment to v.orldly things, and irregular distempered
passions, the Lord is pleased to afford, increase, sus-
pend, or renew, the sensible impressions of his love and
grace, in such seasons and measures as he sees most
suitable to prevent or control these evils, or to humble
us for them. We grieve his Spirit, and he withdraws;
but, by his secret power over our hearts, he makes us
sensible of our folly and loss, teaches us to mourn after
him, and to entreat his return. These desires, which
are the effects of his own grace, he answers in his own
time, and shines forth upon the soul with healing in
his beams. But such is our weakness, and so unapt
are we to retain even those lessons which we have learnt
by painful experience, that we are prone to repeat our
280 On Cummunio7t idth God. Let. ^^
former miscarriages, and to render a repetition of the
same changes necessary. From hence it is that what
we call onv frames are so very variable, and that our
comfortable sense of divine communion is rather tran-
sient than abiding. But the communion itself, upon
which the life and safety of our souls depend, is never
totally obstructed ; nor can it be, unless God should be
unmindful of his covenant, and forsake the work of his
own hands. And when it is not perceptible to sense, it
may ordinarily be made evident to faith, by duly com-
paring what vvc read in the Scripture with what passes
in our hearts. I say ordinarily^ because there may be
some excepted cases. If a believer is unhappily brought
under the power of some knov.n sin, or has grievously
and notoriously declined from his profession, it is pos-
sible that the Lord may hide himself behind so dark a
cloud, and leave him for a while to such hardness of
heart, as that he shall seem to himself to be utterly des-
titute and forsaken. And the like apprehensions may
be formed under some of Satan's violent temptations,
when he is permitted to come in as a flood, and to
overpower the apparent exercise of every grace by a
torrent of blasphemous and evil imaginations. Yet the
Lord is still present with his people in the darkest hours,
or the unavoidable event of such cases would l)e apos-
tasy or despair. Psalm xli. 1 1.
The comnmnion we speak of comprises a mutual in-
tercourse and conmiunication in love, in counsels, and
in interests.
In love. The Lord, by his Spirit, manifests and
confirms his love to his people. For this purpose he
meets them at his throne of grace, and in his ordinances.
There he makes himself known unto them, as he does
not unto the world ; causes his goodness to pass before
Let. 24. On Commwnon ivith God. 281
them ; opens, applies, and seals to them his exceeding
great and precious promises ; and gives them the Spi-
rit of adoption, whereby, unworthy as they are, they
are enabled to cry, "Abba, Father." He causes them
to understand that great love wherewith he has loved
them, in redeeming them by price and by power, wash-
ing them from their sins in the blood of the Lamb, re-
covering them from the dominion of Satan, and prepar-
ing for them an everlasting kingdom, where they shall
see his face, and rejoice in his glory. The knowledge
of this his love to them, produces a return of love
from them to him. They adore him, and admire him ;
they make an unreserved surrender of their hearts to
him. They view him, and delight in him as their God,
their Saviour, and their portion. They account his
favour better than life. He is the sun of their souls :
if he is pleased to shine upon them, all is well, and
they are not greatly careful about other things ; but if
he hides his face, the smiles of the whole creation can
afford them no solid comfort. They esteem one day
or hour spent in the delightful contemplation of his
glorious excellencies, and in the expression of their de-
sires towards him, better than a thousand ; and when
their love is most fervent, they are ashamed that it is
so faint, and chide and bemoan themselves that they
can love him no more. This often makes them long to
depart, willing to leave their dearest earthly comforts,
that they may see him as he is, without a vail or cloud;
for they know that then, and not till then, they shall
love him as they ought.
In counsels. The secret of the Lord is with them
that fear him. He deals familiarly with them. He
calls them not servants only, but friends; and he treats
them as friends. He affords them more than promises ;
Vol. L 2 O
282 On Communion with God. Let. 24.
for he opens to them the plan of his great designs from
everlasting to everlasting ; shows them the strong foun-
dations and inviolable securities of his favour towards
them, the height, and depth, and length, and breadth
of his love, which passeth knowledge, and the unsearch-
able riches of his grace. He instructs them in the
mysterious conduct of his providence, the reasons and
ends of all his dispensations in which they are con-
cerned ; and solves a thousand hard questions to their
satisfaction, which are inexplicable to the natural wis-
dom of man. He teaches them likewise the beauty of
his precepts, the path of their duty, and the nature of
their warfare. He acquaints them with the plots of
their enemies, the snares and dangers they are exposed
to, and the best methods of avoiding them. And he
permits and enables them to acquaint him with all their
cares, fears, wants, and troubles, with more freedom
than they can unbosom themselves to their nearest
earthly friends. His ear is always open to them ; he is
never weary of hearing their complaints, and answering
their petitions. The men of the world would account
it a high honour and privilege to have an unrestrained
liberty of access to an earthly king ; but what words can
express the privilege and honour of believers, who,
whenever they please, have audience of the King of
kings, whose compassion, mercy, and power, are, like
his majesty, infmite. The world wonders at their in-
difference to the vain pursuits and amusements by which
others are engrossed ; that they are so patient in trou-
ble, so inflexible in their conduct, so well satisfied with
that state of poverty and obscurity which the Lord, for
the most part, allots them ; but the wonder would
cease, if what passes in secret were publicly known.
They have obtained the pearl of great price ; they have
Let. 24. On Comimaiion xoith God, 283
communion with God ; they derive their wisdom,
strength, and comfort from on high, and cast all their
cares upon him who, they assuredly know, vouchsafes
to take care of them. This reminds me of another
branch of their communion, namely,
In interests. The Lord claims them for his portion,
he accounts them his jewels, and their happiness in
time and eternity is the great end which, next to his
own glory, and in inseparable connexion with it, he
has immediately and invariably in view. In this point
all his dispensations of grace and providence shall finally
terminate. He himself is their guide and their guard;
he keeps them as the apple of his eye ; the hairs of their
head are numbered, and not an event in their lives takes
place but in an appointed subserviency to their final
good. And as he is pleased to espouse their interest,
the}^, through grace, are devoted to his. They are no
longer their own, they would not be their own ; it is
their desire, their joy, their glory, to live to him who
died for them. He has won their hearts by his love,
and made them a willing people in the day of his power.
The glory of his name, the success of his cause, the
prosperity of his people, the accomplishment of his
will, these are the great and leading objects which are
engraven upon their hearts, and to which all their
prayers, desires, and endeavours, are directed. They
would count nothing dear, not even their lives, if set in
competition with these. In the midst of their afflic-
tions, if the Lord is glorified, if sinners are converted,
if the church flourishes, they can rejoice. But when
iniquity abounds, when love waxes cold, when professors
depart from the doctrines of truth, and the power of god-
liness, then they are grieved and pained to the heart ;
284 On Faiths and the Communion of Saints. Let. 25.
then they are touched in what they account their near-
est interest, because it is their Lord's.
This is the spirit of a true Christian. May the Lord
increase it in us, and in all who love his name ! I hav^
room only to subscribe myself, &c.
LETTER XXV.
On Faith, and the Communion of Saints.
Dear Sir,
N compliance with your request, I freely give you
my sentiments on the particulars you desired; your can-
dour will pass over all inadvertencies, when I give you
such thoughts as offer themselvs spontaneously, and
without study. If the Lord is pleased to bring any thing
valuable to my mind, I shall be glad to send it to you ;
and I am willing to believe that when Christians, in
his name and fear, are writing to one another, he does
often imperceptibly guide us to drop " a word in sea-
*' son ;" which I hope will be the case at present.
The first object of solicitude to an awakened soul,
is safety. The law speaks, the sinner hears and fears :
a holy God is revealed, the sinner sees and trembles ;
every false hope is swept away ; and an earnest inquiry
takes place, '' What shall I do to be saved?" In pro-
portion as faith is given, Jesus is discovered as the only
Saviour, and the question is answered ; and as faith in-
creases, fear subsides and a comfortable hope of life and
immortality succeeds.
When we have thus " a good hope through grace,"
that heaven shall be our home, I think the next inquiry
Let. 25. On Faiths and the Commumoii of Saints, 285
is, or should be, How we may possess as much of hea-
ven by the way as is possible ? In other words, How a
life of communion with our Lord and Saviour may be
maintained in the greatest power, and with the least in-
terruption that is consistent with the present imperfect
state of things ? I am persuaded, dear Sir, this is the
point that lies nearest your heart ; and therefore I shall
speak freely my mind upon it.
In the first place, it is plain from Scripture and ex-
perience, that all our abatements, declensions, and lan-
guors, arise from a defect of faith ; from the imperfect
manner in which we take up the revelation of our Lord
Jesus Christ in the Scripture. If our apprehensions of
him were nearly suitable to the characters he bears in
the word of God ; if we had a strong and abiding sense
of his power and grace always upon our hearts ; doubts
and complaints would cease. This would make hard
things easy, and bitter things sweet, and dispose our
hearts with cheerfulness to do and suffer the whole will
of God ; living upon and to him, as our wisdom, righ-
teousness, sanctification, joy, and supreme end, we
should live a heaven upon earth. The face of the
question is therefore a little changed, and amounts to
this, What are the means to increase and strengthen
our faith?
I apprehend that the growth of faith, no less than
of all other graces of which faith is the root, is gradual,
and ordinarily effected in the use of appointed means ;
yet not altogether arbitrary, but appointed by him who
knows our frame ; and therefore works in us, in a way
suited to those capacities he has endued us with.
I. If faith arises from the knowledge of Christ, and
this knowledge is only contained in the word of God,
it follows, that a careful, frequent perusal of the Scrip-
286 On Faith, atid the Communion of Saints. Let. 25.
tures, which testify of him, is a fit and a necessary
means of improving our faith.
II. If, besides the outward revelation of the word,
there must be a revelation of the Spirit of God like-
wise, whose office it is " to take of the things of Jesus,
" and show them to the soul," bv, and accordintr to the
written word, John xvi. 14. 2 Cor. iii, 18. ; and if this
spirit is projuised and limited to those who ask it ; —
then it follo\vs likewise, that secret prayer is another
necessary means of strengthening faith. Indeed, these
two I account the prime ordinances. If we were pro-
videntially, and not wilfully restrained from all the
rest, the word of sjrace, and the throne of grace, would
supply their wants ; w ith these we might be happy in a
dungeon, or in a desert ; but nothing will compensate
the necrlect of these. Though we should be engaged in
a course of the best conversation and sermons, from
one end of the week to the other, we should languish
and starve in the midst of plenty ; our souls would
grow dry and lean, unless these secret exercises are
kept up with some degree of exactness.
III. Another means to this purpose, is faithfulness
to light already received, John xiv. 1 5 — 24. especially
verse 21. It is worth observation, that faith and fide-
lity, the act of dependence, and the purpose of obe-
dience, are expressed in the Greek by the same word.
Though the power is all of God, and the blessing of
mere free grace ; yet if there is any secret reserve, any
allowed evil connived at in the heart and life, this will
shut up the avenues to comfort, and check the growth
of faith. I lay very little stress upon that faith or com-
fort w hich is not affected by unsteady walking.
The experience of past years has taught me to dis-
tinguish between ignorance and disobedience. The
Let. 25. On Faith, caul the Communion of Saints. 287
Lord is gracious to the weakness of his people ; many
involuntary mistakes will not interrupt their communion
with him : he pities their infirmity, and teaches them to
do better. But if they dispute his known vvill, and act
against the dictates of conscience, they will surely suffer
for it. This will weaken their hands, and bring distress
into their hearts. Wilful sin sadly perplexes and re-
tards our progress. JMay the Lord keep us from it !
It raises a dark cloud, and hides the Sun of Righteous-
ness from our view ; and till he is pleased freely to shine
forth again, we can do nothing: and for this perhaps he
will make us wait, and cry out often, " How long, O
" Lord ! how long?"
Thus, by reading the word of God, by frequent
prayer, by a simple attention to the Lord's will, toge-
ther with the use of public ordinances, and the observa-
tions we are able to make upon what passes within us
and without us, which is what we call e.vperience, the
Lord watering and blessing with the influence of his
Holy Spirit, may grow in grace, and the knowledge
of our Lord and Saviour ; be more humble in our own
eyes, more weaned from self, more fixed on him as our
all in all, till at last we shall meet before his throne.
The communion of saints, another point you desired
my thoughts upon, is the great privilege of all the chil-
dren of God ; they may be separate from each other in
body, and yet may daily meet at the throne of grace.
This is one branch of the communion of saints, to be
present in spirit to each other ; sharing in common of
the influences of the same spirit, they feel the same de-
sires, aim at the same objects, and, so far as they are
personally acquainted, are led to bear each other upon
their hearts in prayer. It has often been an encourage-
ment to me in a dark and dull hour, when rather the
288 On Faith, and the Comnnmion of Saints. Let. 25.
constraint of duty, than the consideration of privilege,
has brought me upon my knees, to reflect how many
hearts, and eyes, and hands, have been probably lifted
up in the same moment with mine ; this thought has
given me new courage. O what a great family has our
Father ! and what David says of the natural is true of
the spiritual life. Psalm civ. " These wait all upon thee;
" that thou mayest give them their meat in due season.
" That thou givest them, they gather : thou openest
" thine hand, and they are filled with good." Then I
particularly think of those who have been helpful to me
in time past; tiie seasons of sweet communion we have
enjoyed together, the subjects of our mutual complaints,
&c. Where are they, or how engaged now ? Perhaps
this moment praying or thinking about me. Tlien I
am roused to make their cases my own, and by attempt-
ing to plead for them, I get strength to pray for myself.
It is an encouragement, no doubt, in a field of battle, to
know that the army we belong to is large, unanimous,
all in action, pressing on from every side against the
common enemy, and gaining ground in every attack.
But if we derive fresh spirits from considering our friends
and associates on earth, how should we take fire if we
could penetrate within the vail, and take a view of the
invisible world ! We should not then complain that we
were serving God alone. O the numbers, the voices,
the raptures, of that heavenly host ! Not one com-
plaining note, not one discordant string. How many
thousand years has the harmony been strengthening by
the hourly accession of new voices !
I sometimes compare this earth to a temporary gal-
lery or stage, erected for all the heirs of glory to pass
over, that they may join in the coronation of the Great
Kinoj : a solemnitv in which they shall not be mere
Let. 2.5. On Fait/i, ami the Communion of Saints. 289
spectators, but deeply-interested parties ; for he is their
husband, their Lord; they bear his name, and shall
share in all his honours. Righteous Abel led the van;
— the procession has been sometimes broader, sometimes
narrowed to almost a single person, as in the days of
Noah. After many generations had successively entered
and disappeared, the King himself passed on in person,
preceded by one chosen harbinger ; he received many
insults on his passage ; but he bore all for the sake of
those he loved, and entered triumphant into his glory.
He was followed by twelve faithful servants, and after
them the procession became wider than ever. There
are many yet unborn who must, (as we do now,) tread in
the steps of those gone before ; and when the .vhole
company is arrived, the stage shall be taken down and
burnt.
Then all the chosen race shall meet before the throne.
Shall bless the conduct of his grace, and make his wonders known.
Let us then, dear Sir, be of good courage ; all the
saints on earth, all the saints in heaven, the angels of
the Lord, yea, the Lord of angels himself, all are on
our side. Though the company is large, yet there is
room ; — many mansions ; — a place for you ; — a place, I
trust, for worthless me.
I am, cScc.
Vol. T. 2 ?
"390 On Gospel-IUuminatio;i. Let. 26,
LETTER XXVI.
On the gradual Increase of Gospel-Illumination.
Dear Sir,
X HE day is now breaking, how beautiful its appear-
ance! how welcome the expectation of the approaching
sun ! It is this thought makes the dawn agreeable, that
it is the presage of a brighter light ; otherwise, if we
expect no more day than it is this minute, we should
rather complain of darkness, than rejoice in the early
beauties of the morning. Thus the life of grace is the
dawn of immortality : beautiful beyond expression, if
compared with the night and thick darkness which for-
merly covered us ; yet faint, indistinct, and unsatisfying,
in comparison of the glory which shall be revealed.
It is, however, a sure earnest ; so surely as we now
see the light of the Sun of Righteousness, so surely shall
v»'e see the Sun himself, Jesus the Lord, in all his glory
and lustre. In the mean time, we have reason to be
thankful for a measure of light to walk and work by, and
sufficient to show us the pits and snares by which we
might be endangered : and we have a promise, that
our present light shall grow stronger and stronger, if we
are diligent in the use of the appointed means, till the
messenger of Jesus shall lead us within the vail, and
then farewell shades and obscurity for ever.
I can now ahnost see to write, and shall soon put the
extinguisher over mv candle : I do this without the least
reluctance, when I enjoy a better light; but I should
have been unwilling half an hour ago. Just thus, mc-
thinks, when the light of the glorious Gospel shines into
Let. 26. Ou Gospel-Illumination. 291
the heart, all our former feeble lights, our apprehen-
sions, and our contrivances, become at once unnecessarv
and unnoticed. How cheerfully did the apostle put out
the candle of his own righteousness, attainments, and
diligence, when the true Sun arose upon him ! Phil.
iii. 7, 8. Your last letter is as a comment upon his
determination. Adored be the grace that has given us
to be like-minded, even to " account all things but loss
" for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus
'' our Lord."
While I am writing, a new lustre, which gilds the
liouse on the hill opposite to my study-window, informs
me that the sun is now rising; he is rising to others, but
not yet to me; my situation is lower, so that they enjoy
a few gleams of sun-shine before me ; yet this momen-
tary difference is inconsiderable, when compared to the
duration of a whole day. Thus some are called by
grace earlier in life, and some later ; but the seeming
difference will be lost and vanish when the great day
of eternity comes on. There is a time, the Lord's best
appointed time, when he will arise and shine upon many
a soul that now sits " in darkness, and in the region of
'■ the shadow of death.'"
I have been thinkins; on the Lord's conference with
Nicodemus ; it is a copious subject, and affords room,
in one part or other, for the whole round of doctrinal
and experimental topics. Nicodemus is an encourag-
ing example to those who are seeking the Lord's salva-
tion : he had received some favourable impressions of
Jesus ; but he was very ignorant, and much under the
fear of man. He durst only come by night, and at first,
though he heard, he understood not ; but He, who
opens the eyes of the blind, brought him surely, though.
;»entlY, forward. The next time we hear of him, he
292 071 Vmon mth Chrhl. Let. 27.
durst put in a word in behalf of Christ, even in the
midst of his enemies, John vii. ; and at last, he had the
courage openly and publicly to assist in preparing the
body of his master for its funeral, at a time when our
Lord's more avowed followers had all forsook him, and
fled. So true is that, " Then shall ye know, if ye fol-
*' low on to know the Lord ;" and again, " He giveth
*' power to the faint; and to them that have no might,
" he increaseth strength."
Hope then, my soul, against hope; though thy graces
are faint and languid, he who planted them will water
his own work, and not suffer them wholly to die. He
can make a little one as a thousand ; at his presence
mountains sink into plains, streams gush out of the flinty
rock, and the wilderness blossoms as the rose. He can
pull down what sin builds up, and build up what sin
pulls down ; that whicli was impossible to us, is easy to
him, and he has bid us expect seasons of refreshment
from his presence. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.
I am, &c.
LETTER XXVir.
On Union zdth ChrisL
Dcjii-
T
HE union of a believer with Christ is so intimate,
so unalterable, so rich in privilege, so powerful in in-
fluence, that it cannot be fully represented by any de-
scription or similitude taken from earthly things. The
mind, like the sight, is incapable of apprehending a great
object, without viewing it on different sides. To help
our weakness, the nature of this union is illustrated, in
TiPt. 27. On U)don idth Christ. 293
the Scripture, by four comparisons, eacli throwincr ad-
ditional light on the subject, yet all falling short of the
thintr sicrnitied.
In our natural state, we are y.\\j^un!^ofj.imi xa; "crtft^s^o^Ew;,
driven and tossed about by the changing winds of opi-
nion, and the waves of trouble, which hourly disturb
and threaten us upon the uncertain sea of human life.
But faith, uniting us to Christ, fixes us npon a sure
foundation, the Rock of Ages, where Ave stand im-
moveable, though storms and floods unite their force
against us.
By nature we are separated from the divine life, as
branches broken off, withered and fruitless. But grace,
through faithj unites us to Christ, the living Vine, from
whom, as the root of all fulness, a constant supply of
sap and influence is derived into each of his mystical
branches, enabling them to bring forth fruit unto God,
and to persevere and abound therein.
By nature we are rvynloi xa» ^xKroviuc^ hatefal and abomi-
nable in the sight of a holy God, and full of enmity and
hatred towards each other. By faith, uniting us to
Christ, we have fellowship with the Father and the Son,
and joint communion among ourselves ; even as the
members of the same body have each of them union,
communion, and sympathy, with the head, and with
their fellow-members.
In our natural estate, we were cast out naked and
destitute, without pity, and without help, Ezek. xvi. ;
but faith, uniting us to Christ, interests us in his righ-
teousness, his riches, and his honours. Our Redeemer
i? our husband ; our debts are paid, our settlement se-
cured, and our names changed.
Thus the Lord Jesus, in declaring himself the foun-
dation, root, head, and husband of his people, takes in
394 In what Manner we are Let. 28.
all the ideas we can frame of an intimate, vital, and in-
separable union. Yet all these fall short of truth ; and
he has given us one further similitude, of which we can
by no means form a just conception, till we shall be
brought to see him as he is in his kingdom, John xvii.
21. " That they all may be one, as thou. Father, art
" in me, and I in thee ; that they also may be one
' in us.
Well may we say, What hath God wrought ! How
inviolable is the security, how inestimable the privilege,
how inexpressible the happiness of a believer ! How
greatly is he indebted to grace ! He was once afar off,
but he is brought nigh to God by the blood of Christ :
he was once a child of wrath, but is now an heir of
everlasting life. How strong then are his obligations to
walk worthy of God, who has called him to his king-
dom and glory !
I am, &e.
LETTER XXVIII.
Answer to the ^uestioJi, In -what manner arc xve to expect the
Lord^s promised Guidance to influe7ice onr Judgments^ and
direct our iSteps in the Path of Duty ?
Dear Sir,
T is well for those who are duly sensible of their own
weakness and fallibility, and of the difficulties with
which they are surrounded in life, that the Lord has
promised to guide his people with his eye, and to cause
them to hear a word behind them, saying, " This is the
" way, walk ye in it," when they are in danger of turn-
ing aside, either to the ri";ht hand or to the left. For
Let. 28. to expect tlie Divine Guidance. 295
this purpose, he has given us the written word to be a
lamp to our feet, and encouraged us to pray for the
teaching of his Holy Spirit, that we may rightly under-
stand and apply it. It is^ however, too often seen, that
many widely deviate from the path of duty, and com-
mit gross and perplexing mistakes, while they profess a
sincere desire to know the will of God, and think they
have his warrant and authority. This must certainly
be ow'ing to misapplication of the rule by which they
judge, since the rule itself is infallible, and the promise
sure. The Scripture cannot deceive us, if rightly un-
derstood ; but it may, if perverted, prove the occasion
of confirming us in a mistake. The Holy Spirit cannot
mislead those who are under his influence ; but we mav
suppose that we are so, when we are not. It may not
be unseasonable to offer a few thoughts upon a subject
of great importance to the peace of our minds, and to
the honour of our holy profession.
IVIany have been deceived as to what they ought to
do, or in forming a judgment beforehand of events in
which they are nearly concerned, by expecting direction
in ways which the Lord has not warranted. I shall
mention some of the principal of these, for it is not easy
to enumerate them all.
Some persons, when two or more things have been
in view, and they could not immediately determine
which to prefer ; have committed their case to the Lord
by prayer, and have then proceeded to cast lots : tak-
ing it for granted, that after such a solemn appeal, the
turning up of the lot might be safely rested in as an an-
swer from God. It is true, the Scripture, and indeed
right reason, assures us, that the Lord disposes the lot ;
and there are several cases recorded in the Old Testa-
ment, in which lots were used by divine appointment ;
2% In iiiJint Manner we are Let. 28.
but I think neither these, nor the choosing Matthias by
lot to the apostleship, are proper precedents for our
conduct. In the division of the lands of Canaan, in the
affair of Achan, and in the nomination of Saul to the
kingdom, recourse was had to lots by God's express
command. The instance of Matthias likewise was sin-
gular, such as can never happen again ; namely, the
choice of an apostle, who would not have been upon a
par with the rest, vvho were chosen immediately by the
Lord, unless He had been pleased to interpose in some
extraordinary way ; and all these were before the canon
of Scripture was completed, and before the full descent
and communication of the Holy Spirit, who was promised
to dwell with the church to the end of time. Under the
New Testament dispensation, we are invited to come
boldly to the throne of grace, to make our requests
known to the Lord, and to cast our cares upon him :
but we have neither precept nor promise respecting the
use of lots ; and to have recourse to them without his
appointment, seems to be tempting him rather than ho-
nouring him, and to savour more of presumption than
dependence. The effects likewise of this expedient have
often been unhappy and hurtful : a sufficient proof how
little it is to be trusted to as a guide of our conduct.
Others, when in doubt, have opened the Bible at a
venture, and expected to find something to direct them
in the first verse they should cast their eye upon. It is
no small discredit to this practice, that the Heathens,
who knew not the Bible, used some of their favourite
books in the same way : and grounded their persuasions
of what thcv ouijht to do, or of what should befall them,
according to the passage they happened to open upon.
Among the Romans, the writings of Virgil were fre-
quently consultixl upon theh3e occasions; which gave rise
Let. 28. to expect the Divine Guidance. '^Syi
to the well-known expression of the Sortes Jlrgiliancp.
And indeed Virgil is as well adapted to satisfy inquirers
in this way, as the Bible itself; for if people will be go-
verned by the occurrence of a single text of Scripture,
without regarding the context, or duly comparing it with
the general tenor of the word of God, and with their own
circumstances, they may commit the greatest extrava-
gances, expect the greatest impossibilities, and contra-
dict the plainest dictates of common sense, while they
think they have the word of God on their side. Can
the opening upon 2 Sam. vii. 3. when Nathan said
unto David, " Do all that is in thine heart, for the
" Lord is with thee," be sufficient to determine the
lawfulness or expediency of actions r Or can a glance of
the eye upon our Lord's words to the woman of Canaan,
Matth. XV. 28. " Be it unto thee even as thou wilt,"
amount to a proof, that the present earnest desire of the
mind, (whatever it may be,) shall be surely accomplished?
Yet it is certain that matters big with important conse-
quences have been engaged in, and the most sancpuine
expectations formed, upon no better warrant than dip-
ping, (as it is called,) upon a text of Scripture.
A sudden strong impression of a text, that seems to
have some resemblance to the concern upon the mind,
has been accepted by many as an infallible token that
they were right, and that things would go just as they
would have them : or, on the otlier hand, if the passage
bore a threatening aspect, it has tilled them with fears
and disquietudes, which they have afterwards found
were groundless and unnecessary. These impressions,
being more out of their power than the former method,
have been more generally regarded and trusted to, but
have frequently proved no less delusive. It is allowed,
that such impressions of a precept or a promise, as
Vol. I. 2 Q
208 In vchat Manner xve are Let. 2S.
humble, animate, or comfort the soul, by giving it a
lively sense of the truth contained in the words, are
both profitable and pleasant ; and many of the Lord's
people have been instructed and supported, (especially
in a time of trouble,) by some seasonable word of grace
applied and sealed by his Spirit with power to their
hearts. Cut if impressions or impulses are received as
a voice from heaven, directing to such particular ac-
tions as could not be proved to be duties without them,
a person may be unwaril}' misled into great evils and
gross delusions ; and many have been so. There is no
doubt but the enemy of our souls, if permitted, can fur-
nish us with Scriptures in abundance in this way, and
for these purposes.
Some persons judge of the nature and event of their
designs, by the fieedom which they find in prayer.
They say they commit their ways to God, seek his di-
rection, and are favoured with much enlargement of
spirit ; and therefore they cannot doubt but what they
have in view^ is acceptable in the Lord's sight. I would
not absolutely reject every plea of this kind, yet, with-
out other corroboratin" evidence, I could not admit it in
proof of what it is brought for. It is not ataays easy
to determine when we have spiritual freedom in prayer.
Self is deceitful ; and when our hearts are much fixed
and bent upon a thing, this may put words and earnest-
ness into our mouths. Too often we first secretly de-
termine for ourselves, and then come to ask counsel of
God ; in such a disposition we are ready to catch at
every thing that may seem to favour our darling scheme;
and the Lord, for the detection and chastisement of our
hypocrisy, (for hypocrisy it is, though perhaps hardly
perceptible to ourselves,) may answer us according to
cur idols ; see Ezek. xiv. 3, 4. Besides^ the grace of
Let. 28. to expect the Divine Guidance, 299
prayer may be in exercise, when tlie subject-matter of
the prayer may be founded upon a mistake, from the
intervention of circumstances which we are unacquainted
with. Thus I may have a friend in a distant country, I
hope he is alive, I pray for him, and it is my duty so to
do. The Lord, by his Spirit, assists his people in what
is their present duty. If I am enabled to pray with
much liberty for my distant friend, it may be a proof
that the Spirit of the Lord is pleased to assist my in-
firmities, but it is no proof that my friend is certainly
alive at the time I am praying for him; and if the next
time I pray for him I should find my spirit straightened,
I am not to conclude that my friend is dea(^^ and there-
fore the Lord will not assist me in praying for him any
longer.
Once more : A remarkable dream has sometimes
been thought as decisive as any of the foregoing me-
thods of knowing the will of God. That many whole-
some and seasonable admonitions have been received
in dreams, I willingly allow ; but, though they may be
occasionally noticed, to pay a great attention to dreams,
especially to be guided by them, to form our sentiments,
conduct, or expectations, upon them, is superstitious
and dangerous. The promises ai'c not made to those
who dream, but to those who watch.
Upon the whole, though the Lord may give to some
persons, upon some occasions, a hint or encouragement
out of the common way ; yet expressly to look for and
seek his direction in such things as I have mentioned,
is unscriptural and ensnaring. I could fill many sheets
with a detail of the inconveniences and evils which ha\ e
followed such a dependence, within the course of my
own observation. I have seen some presuming they
were doing God service, while acting in contradiction to
300 In xoJiat manyier tvc are Lei. 28.
his express commands. I have known others infatuated
to believe a lie, declaring themselves assured, beyond
the shadow of a doubt, of things which, after all, never
came to pass; and when at length disappointed, Satan
has improved the occasion to make them doubt of the
plainest and most important truths, and to account their
whole former experience a delusion. By these things
weak believers have been stumbled, cavils and offences
against the Gospel multiplied, and the v\ays of truth
evil spoken of.
But how then may the Lord's guidance be expected ?
After what has been premised negatively, the question
may be answered in a few words. In general, he guides
and directs his people, by affording them, in answer to
prayer, the light of his Holy Spirit, which enables them
to understand and to love the Scriptures. The word of
God is not to be used as a lottery ; nor is it designed
to instruct us by shreds and scraps, which, detached
from their proper places, have no determinate import ;
but it is to furnish us with just principles, right appre-
hensions to regulate our judgments and affections, and
thereby to influence and direct our conduct. They who
study the Scriptures, in an humble dependence upon
divine teaching, are convinced of their own weakness,
are taught to make a true estimate of every thing around
them, are gradually formed into a spirit of submission
to the will of God, discover the nature and duties of
their several situations and relations in life, and the
snares and temptations to which they are exposed. The
word of God dwells richly in them, is a preservative
from error, a light to their feet, and a spring ot*strength
and consolation. By treasuring up the doctrines, pre-
cepts, promises, examples, and exhortations of Scrip-
ture, in their minds, and daily comparing themselves
Let. 28. to expect the Divine Guidance. 301
with the rule by which they walk, they grow into an ha-
bitual frame of spiritual wisdom, and acquire a gracious
taste, which enables them to judge of right and wrong
with a degree of readiness and certainty, as a musical
ear judges of sounds. And they are seldom mistaken,
because they are influenced by the love of Christ, which
rules in their hearts, and a regard to the glory of God,
which is the great object they have in view.
In particular cases, the Lord opens and shuts for
them, breaks down walls of difficulty which obstruct
their path, or hedges up their way with thorns, when
they are in danger of going wrong, by the dispensations
of his providence. They know that their concernments
are in his hands ; they are willing to follow whither and
when he leads ; but are afraid of going before him.
Therefore they are not impatient : because they believe,
they will not make haste, but wait daily upon, him in
prayer; especially when they find their hearts most en-
gaged in any purpose or pursuit, they are most jealous
of being deceived by appearances, and dare not move
further or faster than they can perceive his light shining
upon their paths. I express at least their desire, if not
their attainment : thus they would be. And though
there are seasons when faith languishes, and self too
much prevails, this is their general disposition ; and the
Lord, whom they serve, does not disappoint their ex-
pectations. He leads them by a right way, preserves
them from a thousand snares, and satisfies them that
he is and will be their guide even unto death.
I am, &c.
On Rom. viii. 1^ 20, ZL Let. 29.
LETTER XXIX.
Thoughts on Bom. xi'A. 19, 20, 21.
Dear Sir,
A. HE apostle evidently introduces this passage in con-
firmation of what he had said before, ver. 17, 18. The
privileges of the children of God are not only great, but
sure. Every thing we see confirms our expectation of
what God has promised. The whole frame of nature,
in its present state of imperfection, strongly pleads for
a future and better dispensation, as necessary to vindi-
cate the wisdom, goodness, and justice of God ; and
this shall take place when the sons of God shall be ma-
nifested, and shall shine forth in the kingdom of their
Father. It would be injurious to the honour of God
to suppose, that things were at first created in the state
they are now in, or that they will always continue so ;
and therefore the creature, which was originally designed
to show forth the glory of God, is represented as bur-
dened and groaning till those impediments are removed,
which prevent it from fully answering its proper end.
Dr. Guyse's proposal of reading the 20th verse, (the
words in hope excepted,) in a parenthesis, seems greatly
to free the sense from embarrassment. Then the pro-
position in the 19th and 21st verses will be, " The
" earnest expectation of the creature waiteth in hope,
'' for the manifestation of the sons of God, because the?i
*' the creature also shall be delivered from the bondage
" of corruption," Sec. The 20th verse expresses the
creature's })rescnt state, " It is subject to vanity ;" and
Let. 29. On Rom. viii. 19, 20, 21. SOS
intimates the cause, " Not willingly," but by reason of
liim who hath subjected the same.
By the creature some understand mankind, as the
word is used, Mark xvi. 15.; and it is certain, that,
partly from imperfect tradition, and partly from a gene-
ral rumour of the prophecies extant among the Jews,
the Heathens had some confused apprehension of a de-
liverer from misery ; agreeable to which, or rather on
account of their need of a Saviour, whether they knew
it or not, Christ is styled the desire of all nations. But
this does not seem to be the sense ; because the crea-
ture here is said to be subject to vanity, not willingli/^
and is represented as groaning, travailing, and longing,
ver. 22, for deliverance. But it is so far from being the
concurrent desire of all mankind, or indeed the desire
of any single person, to obtain freedom from the bond-
age of sin, that we are naturally pleased with it, and
yield a willing subjection. Besides, the period referred
to is beyond the present life, and intends not a partial
relief here, but a full deliverance hereafter. It seems,
therefore, that creature in these verses, and creation in
ver. 22, as they are both expressed by the same word
in the Greek, are to be taken in the same sense. The
whole frame of this lower world, which is now subject
to vanity on account of the sin of many, is represented
as londncr and waiting for deliverance.
The word arroxa^aJoKia, which wc render earnest expec-
tation^ is very emphatical ; it imports a raising up or
thrusting forward the head, as persons who are in sus-
pense for the return of a messenger, or the issue of some
interesting event. Compare Judges v. 28. Luke xxi.
28. It occurs but once more in the New Testament,
Phil. i. 20 : where the apostle is describing, in one view,
304 0?i Bom. viii. 19, 20, 21. Let. 20.
the confidence of his hope, and the many conflicts and
oppositions which were the daily exercise of his faith.
Now it is a frequent beauty in the Scripture-lan<3;uage,
to apply human aifections to the inanimate creation ; and
these expressions are to be taken in a figurative sense,
as denoting the importance and evidence of what is said.
See Gen. iv. 11. Isa. i. 2. Luke xix. 40. The " earnest
" expectation of the creature," therefore, teaches us
two thinjjs, the weight and burden of the evils under
■which the world groans, and the sure purpose of God
to restore all things by Jesus Christ. There is a period
approaching, when all that is new, rough, and crooked,
shall be made plain and straight. The Lord has pro-
mised it ; and therefore all his works are represented as
expecting and waiting for it.
This shall be at the manifestation of the sons of God.
They are now hidden, unknown, unnoticed, and mis-
represented, for the most part. Their life is in many
respects hidden from themselves, and their privileges al-
together hidden from the world. But ere long they
will be manifested, their God will openly acknowledge
them ; every cloud by which they are now obscured
shall be removed, and they shall shine like the sun in
the kingdom of their Father. They have now a gra-
cious liberti/ : they are freed from condemnation, from
the pow er of sin, from the law as a covenant of works,
from the yoke of carnal ordinances, from the traditions
and inventions of men, and from the spirit of bondage;
yet they suffer much from indwelling sin, the temptations
of Satan, and their situation in a wicked and ensnaring
world. But they are animated with the hope of a glo-
rious liberty, when every evil, imperi'ection, and abate-
ment, shall cease ; when they shall be put in the full
Let. 29. On Rom. viii. 19, 20, 21. 305
possession of a happiness answerable to the riches of
divine love, and the efficacy of the blood and mediation
of Jesus; and then the curse shall be fully removed from
the creation ; the Lord shall create all things new, and
again pronounce all things good. When they are thus
manifested, the creature's expectation shall be answered.
It shall be restored to its honour and use. Under what
circumstances, and to what particular purposes, this
change will take place, we know not ; but a change wor-
thy of divine wisdouj, though beyond the limits of our
weak apprehensions, we are \Aarranted from Scripture
to expect. It is asserted in this passage ; to which per-
haps we may properly add 2 Pet. iii. 13. llev. xxi. I.
It would be easy to indulge vain conjectures upon this
subject ; but it is more safe to restrain them, and to con-
tent ourselves with what is clearly revealed. The hour
is coming when all difficulties shall be explained, when
the mysterious plan of divine Providence shall be un-
folded, vindicated, and completed ; then it shall appear,
that the Lord Jesus Christ is the head and restorer of
the creation ; and how fully in every sense he has re-
paired the ruin brought into the world by sin, and de-
stroyed the works of the devil.
In the mean time the sons of God groan, waiting for
the adoption ; and the creation groans with them. At
present it is subject to vanity. Its original design was,
to fulfil the will, and to set forth the glory of God ; but,
by the sin of man, it is disappointed u ith respect to
these ends ; not absolutely, for still the heavens declare
his glory, and the earth is full of his goodness ; but, with
regard to outward appearances, there is a great abate-
ment in both these respects. We may instance a few
particulars, in which the creature is abused and op-
pressed, contrary to the design of its creation.
Vor. I. " 2 R
3GG On Bom. viii. 19, 20, 21. Let. 27,
The creature was intended to show forth the glory of
God. But here it has been disappointed, and has
groaned, being burdened in all ages. Vain rnan has
always been disposed to serve and worship the creature
more than the Creator. Tiie whole world formerly,
except the Jews, were sunk in idolatry, paying divine
honours to the sun and moon, yea, to stocks and stones ;
and a great part of the earth is to this moment covered«r
%vith the same darkness. When this is the case, the
creature groans under vanity, being perverted directly
contrary to its proper end. And there is another idola-
try, if not so gross, yet in us more inexcusable, by
which the generality of those who bear the name of
Christians are no less alienated from the knowledge
and love of the true God, than the Heathens them-
selves.
Again : The creatures, as the sei'vants of God, are
properly designed to promote the welfare of his chil-
dren, 1 Cor. iii. 22. Job v. 23. This great end is in-
deed finally secured by the promise. That all shall work
together for their good. But at present they are ex-
posed to great sufferings : all things seem to come alike
to all. This, on the Lord's part, is a wise and gracious
appointment for the exercise of faith, the mortification
of sin, and the advancement of sanctification. But still
in itself it is a vanity, under Avhich the creation groans.
When Jesus was crucified in persoii, the sun withdrew
his light, rocks rent, and the earth quaked. There is a
proportionable constraint upon nature when he suffers
in his members. Sometimes this part of the vanity has
been suspended, as in the case of Daniel and his com-
panions ; and, doubtless, the creatures would in general
reverence the heirs of glory, were not the effects of sin
upon them continued for wise reasons. They were
Let. 29. On Bom. viii. 19, 20, 21. S07
subject to man, when man was subject to his ]\Iaker
At present there is an apparent inconsistence, when
beasts, and storms, and seas, rage against those whom
their Creator is pleased to favour.
Once more : The creatures of God might be expected
'to ensfasfe in his behalf against his enemies. But it is
subject to vanity here likewise. The earth is the Lord's ;
yet the chief parts and possessions of it are in the hands
of those who hate him; yea, his enemies employ his
creatures against his own friends. Surely, if the secret
powerful restraint of his providence were taken off, it
would be otherwise ! How ready all the creatures are
to fight in the Lord's cause, if he please to employ them,
we may learn from the history of Egypt, in Exodus,
from the death of Dathan and Abiram, and the destruc-
tion of Sennacherib's army. It is therefore a bondage
introduced by sin, and under which they groan, that
they are compelled to prolong the lives and serve the
occasions of ungodly sinners.
The effect being manifest, tJ^iat the creature is subject
to vanity, the apostle briefly intimates the cause: " Not
" willingly." The creature, considered in itself, is not in
fault. All things were created good in the beo-innine,
and in themselves are good still. Not the fault, but
the perversion and subjection of the creature, are here
complained of A beauty, variety, and order in the
works of God, are still discernible, sufficient to fill an
attentive and enlightened mind with wonder, love, and
praise ; though it must be allowed, that sin has not only
alienated our hearts, and disabled our faculties, so that
we cannot rightly contemplate God in his works, but
has likewise occasioned a considerable alteration in the
visible state of things. One instance is expressly sne-
«ified. Gen. iii. 16.
308 On Rom. Yiil 19, 20,21. Let. 29.
The positive cause is ascribed to Ilim who has sub-
jected the same. These words may bear three different
senses, in agreement with the current doctrine of the
Scripture. The prime author of the mischief was Satan,
Full of malice and enmity against God and his crea-
tures, he attempted to bring evil into this lower world,
and was pi rmitted to succeed ; the Lord purposing to
over-rule it to his own glory. But for a season the
work of the devil has been, to introduce and maintain a
sad scene of vanity and misery. Our first father Adam
was the direct and immediate cause of the entrance of
sin and vanity into the creation. He was created up-
right, and all things good about him : but he listened
to Satan, and sinned, and by his sin
Brought death into the world, and ail our wo ;
for w'c were concerned in his transgression, as he was
our head both in nature and law. But we may refer
the Him to God ; and this seems best to suit the apos-
tle's design here. God, the righteous judge, subjected
the creature to vanity, as the just consequence and de-
sert of man's disobedience. But he has subjected it in
hope; with a reserve in favour of his own people, by
which, though they are liable to trouble, they are se-
cured from the penal desert of sin, and the vanity of
the creature is by his wisdom over-ruled to wise and
gracious purposes. The earth, and all in it, was made
for the sake of man: for his sin it was first cursed, and
afterwards destroyed by water ; and sin at last shall set
it on fire. But God, who is rich in mercy, appointed
a people to himself out of the fallen race : for their
sakes, and as a theatre whereon to disj)lay the wonders
of his providence and grace, it was renewed after the
Let. 29. On Rom. viii. 19, 20, 21. 309
flood, and still continues ; but not in its original state :
there are marks of the evil of sin, and of God's displea-
sure against it, Avherever we turn our eyes. This truth
is witnessed to by every thing without us and within
us. But there shall be a deliverance to those who fear
him ; and, by his word and Spirit, he teaches them to
receive instruction and benefit, even from this root of
bitterness. Even now they are the sons of God ; but
it doth not yet appear w hat they w ill be when he shall
appear, and be admired in all them that believe. Then
they shall be manifested, and then the creature also
shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption.
Kow blind, then, are they u ho expect happiness from
the creature, which is itself subject to vanity, and who
are meanly content with the present state of things ! It
is because they are estranged from God, have no sense
of his excellency, no regard for his glory, no knowledge
of their own proper good ! They are further removed
from tlie desires they ought to have in their present
circumstances, than the brute creation, or the very
ground they walk on ; for all things but man, have, an
instinct, or natural principle, to answer the end for
which they were appointed. Fire and hail, wind and
storm, fulfil the word of God, though we poor mortals
dare to disobey it. But if the secret voice of the whole
creation desires the consummation of all things, surely
they who have the light of God's word and Spirit will
look forward, and long for that glorious day. Amen.
Even so, come, Lord Jesus !
I am, &c.
Oh the right Use of the Laiv. Let. 30>
LETTER XXX.
On the Right Use of the Law,
Dear Sir,
T
OU desire my thonghts on 1 Tim. i. 8. ^' We know
-"■ the law is good, if a man use it lawfully," and I wil-
lingly comply, I do not mean to send you a sermon on
the text; yet a little attention to method may not be
improper upon this subject, though in a letter to a
friend. Ignorance of the nature and design of the law
is at the bottom of most religious mistakes. This is the
root of self-righteousness, the grand reason why the
Gospel of Christ is no more regarded, and the cause of
that uncertainty and inconsistence in many, who, though
they profess themselves teachers, understand not what
they say, nor whereof they affirm. If we previously
state what is meant by the law, and by what means we
knov/ the law to be good, I think it will, from these pre-
mises, be easy to conclude what it is to use the law
iawfully.
The law, in many passages of the Old Testament,
signifies the whole revelation of the v.ill of God, as in
Psalm i. 2. and xix. 7. But the law, in a strict sense,
is contradistinguished from the Gospel. Thus the apos-
tle considers it at large in his epistles to the Romans
and Galatians. I think it evident, that, in the passage
you have proposed, the apostle is speaking of the law
of IMoses. But, to have a clearer view of the subject
it may be proper to look back to a more early period.
The law of God, then, in the largest sense, is tiiat
rule, or prescribed course, which he has appointed fot
Let. 30. 071 the right Use of the Law. Zll
his creatures according to their several natures and ca-
pacities, that they may answer the end for which he has
created tliem Thus it comprehends the inanimate cre-
ation. The wind or storm fulfil his word or law. He
hath appointed the moon for its seasons ; and the sun-
knoweth its going down, or going forth, and performs
all its revolutions according to its Maker's pleasure. If
we could suppose the sun was. an intelligent being, and
should refuse to shine, or should wander from the sta-
tion in which God had placed it, it would then be a
transgressor of the law. But there is no such disorder
in the natural world. The law of God in this sense, oir
what many choose to call the law of nature, is no other
than the impression of God's power, whereby all things
continue and act according to his will from the begin-
ning : for " he spake, and it was done ; he commanded,
" and it stood fast."
The animals destitute of reason are likewise under a
law; that is, God has given them instincts according to
their several kinds, for their support and preservation,
to which they invariably conform. A wisdom unspeak-
ably superior to all the contrivance of man disposes
their concernments, and is visible in the structure of a
bird's nest, or the economy of a bee-hive. But this
wisdom is restrained within narrow limits ; they act
without any remote design, and are incapable either of
good or evil in a moral sense.
When God created man, he taught him more than
the beasts of the earth, and made him wiser than the
fowls of heaven. He formed him for himself, breathed
into him a spirit immortal and incapable of dissolution,
gave him a capacity not to be satisfied with any creature-
good, endued him with an understanding, will, and af-
fections, which qualified him for the knowledge and ser-
31^ On the right Use of the Law. Let, 30.
vice of his IMaker, and a life of communion with him.
The law of God, therefore, concerning man, is that rule
of disposition and conduct to which a creature so consti-
tuted ought to conform ; so that the end of his creation
mijjht be answered, and the wisdom ofGod be manifested
in him and by him. Man's continuance in this regular
andhap})y state was not necessary as it is in the creatures,
who, having no rational faculties, have properly no choice,
but act under the immediate agency of divine power.
As man was capable of continuing in the state in which
he was created, so he was capable of forsaking it. He
did so, and sinned by eating the forbidden fruit. We
are not to suppose that this prohibition was the whole of
the law of Adam, so that if he had abstained from the
tree of knowledge, he might in other respects have
done, (as we say,) what he pleased. This injunction
was the test of his obedience ; and while he regarded
it, he could have no desire contrary to holiness, be-
cause his nature was holy. But when he broke tlirough
it, he broke through the whole law, and stood guilty of
idolatry, blasphemy, rebellion, and murder. The divine
light in his soul was extinguished, the image of God de-
faced ; he became like Satan, whom he had obeyed, and
lost his power to keep that law which was connected
with his happiness. Yet still the law remained in force :
the blessed God could not lose his right to that rever-
ence, love, and obedience, which must always be due to
him from his intelligent creatures. Thus Adam became
a transgressor, and incurred the penalty, death. But
God, who is rich in mercy, according to his eternal pur-
pose revealed the promise of the seed of the woman, and
instituted sacrifices as types of that atonement for sin,
which He, in the fulness of time, should accomplish by
the sacrifice of himself
Let. 30. On the right Une of the Lav:. 313
Adam, after his fall, was no lont^er a public person ;
he was saved by grace, through faith : but the depravity
he had brought upon human nature remained. His chil-
dren, and so all his posterity, were born in his sinful
likeness, without either ability or inclination to keep the
law. The earth was soon filled with violence. But a
few in every successive age were preserved by grace,
and faith in the promise. Abraham was favoured with
a more full and distinct revelation of the covenant of
grace ; he saw the day of Christ, and rejoiced. In the
time of Aloses, God was pleased to set apart a pecu-
liar people to himself, and to them he published his law
with great solemnity at Sinai : this law consisted of two
distinct parts, very different in their scope and design,
though both enjoined by the same authority.
The decalogue, or ten commands, uttered by the
voice of God himself, is an abstract of that original la\v
under which man was created ; but published in a pro-
hibitory form — the Israelites, like the rest of mankind,
being depraved by sin, and strongly inclined to the com-
mission of every evil. This law could not be designed
as a covenant, by obedience to which man should be
justified ; for long before its publication the Gospel had
been preached to Abraham, Gal. iii. 8. But the law
entered that sin might abound ; that the extent, the evil,
and the desert of sin might be known ; for it reaches to
the most hidden thoughts of the heart, requires abso-
lute and perpetual obedience, and denounces a curse
upon all who continue not therein.
To this was superadded the ceremonial or Levitical
law, prescribing a variety of institutions, purifications,
and sacrifices; the observance of which were, during
that dispensation, absolutely necessary to the accepta-
Vol. I. 2 S
5'1-i On the right Use of the Laiv. Let. 304
ble worship of God. By obedience to these prescrip-
tions, the people of Israel preserved their legal right to
the blessings promised to them as a nation, and which
were not confined to spiritual worshippers only : and
they were likewise ordinances and helps to lead those
who truly feared God, and had conscience of sin, to
look forward by faith to the great sacrifice, the Lamb of
God, who in the fulness of time was to take away sin
by the sacrifice of himself. In both these respects the
ceremonial law was abrogated by the death of Christ,
The Jews then ceased to be God's peculiar people; and
Jesus having expiated sin, and brought in an everlasting
righteousness by his obedience unto death, all other sa-
crifices became umiecessary and vain. The Gospel
supplies the place of the cereraonial law to the same
advantage as the sun abundantly compensates for the
ttvinkling of the stars, and the feeble glimmering of
moonlight, which are concealed by its glory. Believers
of old were relieved from the strictness of the moral law
by the sacrifices which pointed to Christ. Believers
under the Gospel are relieved by a direct application of
the blood of the covenant. Both renounce any depen-
dence on the moral law for justification, and both accept
it as a rule of life in the hands of the Mediator, and are
enabled to yield it a sincere, though not perfect, obe-
dience.
If an Israelite, trusting to his obedience to the moral
law, had ventured to reject the ordinances of the cere-
monial, he would have been cut oft'. In like manner,
if any who are called Christians are so well satisfied
with their moral duties, that tkey see no necessity of
making Christ their only hope, the law by which they
seek life Avili be to them a ministration unto death.
J .el. 30. Gn Ihe right Use of the Law. 315
Christ, and he alone, delivers us, by faith in his name,
from the curse of the law, having been made a curse
for us.
A second inquiry is, How we came to know the law
to be good ? For naturally we do not, we cannot think
so. We cannot be at enmity with God, and at the
same time approve of his law; rather this is the ground
of our dislike to him, that we conceive the law by which
we are to be judged is too strict in its precepts, and
too severe in its threatenings ; and therefore men, *o far
as in them lies, are for altering this law. They think it
would be better if it required no more than we can per-
form, if it allowed us more liberty, and especially if it
Avas not armed against transgressors with the penalty of
everlasting punishment. This is evident from the usual
pleas of unawakened sinners ; some think, " I am not
" so bad as some others ;" by which they mean, God
will surely make a difference, and take favourable no-
tice of what they suppose good in themselves. Others
plead, " If / should not obtain mercy, what will be-
'' come of the greatest part of mankind?" by which
they plainly intimate, that it would be hard and unjust
in God, to punish such multitudes. Others endeavour
to extenuate their sins, as Jonathan once said, I did
but taste a little honey, and I must die. " These pas-
" sions are natural to me, and must I die for indulsfino-
"■ them r" In short, the spirituality and strictness of
the law, its severity, and its levelling effect, confound-
ing all seeming differences in human characters, and
stopping every mouth without distinction, are three pro-
perties of the law, which the natural man cannot allow
to be good.
These prejudices against the law can only be removed
•by the power of the Holy Spirit. It is his office to en~
316 On the right XIsc of the. Lmv. let. 30.
lighten and convince the conscience; to communicate
an impression of the majesty, holiness, justice, and au-
thority of the God with \Yhom we have to do, whereby
the evil and desert of sin is apprehended : the sinner is
then stripped of all his vain pretences; is compelled to
plead guilty, and must justify his judge, even though he
should condemn him. It is his office likewise to disco-
ver the grace and glory of the Saviour, as having ful-
filled the law for us, and as engaged by promise to en-
able those who believe in him to honour it with a due
obedience in their own persons. Then a change of
judgment takes place, and the sinner consents to the
law, that it is holy, just, and good. Then the law is
acknowledged to b©^ holy : it manifests the holiness of
God ; and a conformity to it is the perfection of human
nature. There can be no excellence in man, but so far
as he is influenced by God's law : without it, the greater
his natural powers and abilities are, he is but so much
the more detestable and mischievous. It is assented to
•as just, springing from his indubitable right and autho-
rity over his creatures, and suited to their dependence
upon him, and the abilities with which he originally en-
dowed them. And though we by sin have lost those
abilities, his right remains unalienable; and therefore he
can justly punish transgressors. And as it is just in re-
spect to God, so it is good for man ; his obedience to
the law, and the favour of God therein, being his pro-
per happiness, and it is impossible for him to be happy
in any other way. Only, as I have hinted, to sinners
these things must be applied according to the Gospel,
and to their new relation by faith to the Loid Jesus
Christ, who has obeyed the law, and made atonement
for sin on their behalf; so that through him they arc
7:3elivcred from condemnation, and entitled to all the
i.et. 30. On the right Use of the Lan\ 317
benefits of his obedience : from him likewise they re-
ceive the law, as a rule enforced by his own example,
and their unspeakable obligations to his redeeming love.
This makes obedience pleasing, and the strength they
derive from him makes it easy.
We may now proceed to inquire, in the last place.
What it is to use the law lawfully ? The expression im-
plies, that it may be used unlawfully ; and it is so by
too many. It is not a lawfid use of the law to seek
justification and acceptance with God by our obedience
to it ; because it is not appointed for this end, or capa-
ble of answering it in our circumstances. The very at-
tempt is a daring impeachment of the wisdom and good-
ness of God ; for if righteousness >could come by the
law, then Cin-ist has died in vain; Gal. ii. 21. iii. 21.;
so that such a hope is not only groundless, but sinful ;
and, w^hen persisted in under the light of the Gospel,
is no less than a wilful rejection of the grace of God.
Again, It is an unlawful use of the law, that is, an
abuse of it, an abuse both of law and Gospel, to pre-
tend, that its accomplishment by Christ releases be-
lievers from any obligation to it as a rule. Such an as-
sertion is not only wicked, but absurd and impossible
in the highest decree : for the law is foimded in the rc-
lation between the Creator and the creature, and must
unavoidably remain in force so long as that relation
subsists. While he is God, and we are creatures, in
every possible or supposable change of state or circum-
stances, he must have an unrivalled claim to our rever-
ence, love, trust, service, and submission. No true be-
liever can deliberately admit a thought or a wish oi
being released from his obligation of obedience to God
in Avhoie or in part ; he will rather start from it with
abhorrence. But Satan labours to drive unstable sout>
318 On the right Use of the Law. Let. 30.
from one extreme to the other, and has too often suc-
ceeded. Wearied with vain endeavours to keep the
law, that they might obtain life by it, and afterwards
taking up with a notion of the Gospel devoid of power,
they have at length despised that obedience which is the
honour of a Christain, and essentially belongs to his
character, and have abused the grace of God to licen-
tiousness. Bwt we have not so learned Christ.
To speak affirmatively, The law is lawfully used as
a means of conviction of sin : for tlws purpose it was
promulgated at Sinai. The law entered, that sin might
abound : not to make men more wicked, though occa-
sionally and by abuse it has that effect, but to make
them sensible how wicked they are. Having God's law
in our hands, we are no longer to form our judgments
by the maxims and customs of the world, where evil is
called good, and good evil ; but are to try every princi-
ple, temper, and practice, by this standard. Could
men be prevailed upon to do this, they would soon
listen to the Gospel with attention. On some the Spirit
of God does thus prevail : then they earnestly make the
jailer's inquiry, " What must I do to be saved ?" Here
the work of grace begins ; and the sinner, condemned
in his own conscience, is brought to Jesus for life.
Again : When we use the law as a glass to behold
tlie glory of God, we use it lawfully^ His glory is emi-
nently revealed in Christ; but much of it is with a
special reference to the law, and cannot be otherwise
discerned. We see the perfection and excellence of
the law in his life. God was glorified by his obedience
as a man. What a perfect character did he exhibit '
yet it is no other than a transcript of the law. Such
would have been the character of Adam and all his
cace, had the law been duly obeyed. It a])pears, there-
Let. 3a Ou the right Use of the Law. S10
fore, a wise and holy institution, fully capable of dis-
playing that perfection of conduct by which man would
have answered the end of his creation. And we see
the inviolable strictness of the law in his death. There
the glory of God in the law is manifested. Though he
was the beloved Son, and had yielded personal obe-
dience in the utmost perfection, yet, when he stood in
our place to make atonement for sin, he was not spared.
From what he endured in Gethsemane and upon the
cross, we learn the meaning of that awful sentence,
" The soul that sinneth shall die."
Another lawful use of the law is, to consult it as a
rule and pattern by which to regulate our spirit and
conversation. The grace of God, received by faith,
will dispose us to obedience in general ; but through re-
maining darkness and ignorance we are much at a loss
as to particulars. We are therefore sent to the law,
that we may learn how to walk worthy of God, who has
called us to his kingdom and glory ; and every precept
has its proper place and use.
Lastly : We use the law lawfully when we improve it
as a test whereby to judge of the exercise of grace. Be-
lievers differ so much from what they once were, and
from what many still are, that without this right use of
the law, comparing themselves with their former selves,
or with others, they would be prone to think more highly
of their attainments than they ought. But when they
recur to this standard, they sink into the dust, and adopt
the language of Job, " Behold, I am vile ; I cannot an-
" swer thee one of a thousand."
From hence we may collect in brief, how the law is
good to them that^use it lavvfull}-. It furnishes them
AV'ith a comprehensive and accurate view of the will
of God, and the path of duty. By the study of the
Of Love to the Brethren, Let. '61.
law, they acquire an habitual spiritual taste of what
is right or wrong. The exercised believer, like a skil-
ful workman, has a rule in his hand, whereby he can
measure and determine with certainty ; whereas others
judge as it were by the eye, and can only make a ran-
dom guess, in which they are generally mistaken. It
likewise, by reminding them of their deficiencies and
short-comings, is a sanctified means of making and keep-
ing them humble ; and it exceedingly endears Jesus,
the law-fulfiUer, to their hearts, and puts them in mind
of their obligations to him, and of their absolute depend-
ence upon him every moment.
If these reflections should prove acceptable to you,
I have my desire ; and I send them to you by the press,
in hopes that the Lord may accompany them with his
blessing to others. The subject is of great importance,
and, were it rightly understood, might conduce to settle
some of the angry controversies which have been lately
agitated. Clearly to understand the distinction, con-
nexion, and harmony, between the law and the Gospel,
and their mutual subserviency to illustrate and estab-
lish each other, is a singular privilege, and a happy
means of preserving the soul from being entangled bv
errors on the right hand or the left.
I am, &c.
LETTER XXXI.
Of I.ot'c to the Brethren.
Dear Sir,
A HE apostle having said, " Marvel not, my brethren,
*' if the world hate you," immediately subjoins, " W§
Let. 31. Of Ij)ve to the Brethren. 321
" know that we have passed from death unto life, be-
*' cause we love the brethren." By the manner of his
expression, he sufficiently intimates, that the want of
this love is so universal, till the Lord plants it in the
heart, that if we possess it, we may thereby be sure he
has given us of his Spirit, and delivered us from con-
demnation. But as the heart is deceitful, and people
may be awfully mistaken in the judgment they form of
themselves, we have need to be very sure that we rightly
understand what it is to love the brethren, before we
draw the apostle's conclusion from it, and admit it as an
evidence of our own favour, that we have passed from
death unto life. Let me invite you, reader, to attend
with me a little to this subject.
There are some counterfeits of this love to the breth-
ren, which it is to be feared have often been mistaken
for it, and have led people to think themselves some-
thing, when indeed they were nothing. For instance :
There is a natural love of the brethren. People
may sincerely love their relations, friends, and benefac-
tors, who are of the brethren, and yet be utter strangers
to the spiritual love the apostle speaks of So Orpah
had a great affection for Naomi, though it was not
strong enough to make her willing with Ruth to leave
her native country, and her idol-gods. Natural affec-
tion can go no further than to a personal attachment;
and they who thus love the brethren, and upon no better
ground, are often disgusted with those things in them,
for which the real brethren chiefly love one another.
There is likewise a love of convenience. The Lord's
people are gentle, peaceful, benevolent, swift to hear,
slow to speak, slow to wrath. They are desirous of
adorning the doctrine of God their Saviour, and ap-
proving themselves followers of him who pleased not
Vol. L ^ T
332 Of Love to the Brethren. Let. 31 -
himself, but spent his life in doing good to others.
Upon this account, they who are full of themselves,
and love to have their own way, may like their com-
pany, because they fmd more compliances, and less op-
position from tliem, than from such as themselves. For
a while Laban loved Jacob ; he found him diligent and
trust-worthy, and perceived that the Lord had pros-
pered him upon Jacob's account ; but when he saw that
Jacob flourished, and apprehended he was likely to do
without him, his love was soon at an end ; for it was
only founded in self-interest.
A party -lo've is also common. The objects of this
are those who are of the same sentiment, worship in the
same vvay, or are attached to the same minister. They
who are united in such narrow and separate associations,
may express warm affections, without giving any proof
of true Christian love ; for upon such grounds as these,
not only professed Christians, but Jews and Turks, may
be said to love one another ; though it must be allowed
that believers being renewed but in part, the love which
they bear to the brethren, is too often debased and al-
layed by a mixture of selfish. affections.
The principle of true love to the brethren, is the
LOVE OF God, that love which produceth obedience,
1 John V. 2. " By this we know that w^e love the chil-
'' dren of God, if we love God, and keep his command-
'' mcnts." When pco})lc are free to form their connex-
ions and friendships, the ground of their communion is
in a sameness of inclination. The love spoken of is
spiritual. The children of God, who therefore stand
in the relation of brethren to each other, though they
have too many unhappy differences in points of smaller
importance, agree in the supreme love they bear to their
heavenly Father, and to Jesus their Saviour ; of course
Let. 31. Of Love to the Brethren. 323
they agree in disliking and avoiding sin, which is con-
trary to the will and command of the God whoni they
love and worship. Upon these accounts they love one
another, they are like-minded ; and they live in a world
where the bulk of mankind are against them, have no
regard to their Beloved, and live in the sinful practices
which his grace has taught them to hate. Their situa-
tion, therefore, increases their affection to each other.
They are washed by the same blood, supplied by the
same grace, opposed by the same enemies, and have
the same heaven in view : therefore they love one an-
other with a pure heart fervently.
The properties of this love, where its exercise is not
greatly impeded by ignorance and bigotry, are such as
prove its heavenly original. It extends to all who love
the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity; cannot be confined
within the pale of a denomination, nor restrained to those
w ith whom it is more immediately connected. It is gen-
tle, and not easily provoked ; hopes the best, makes al-
lowances for infirmities, and is easily entreated. It is kind
and compassionate; and this not in words only, but sym-
pathizes with the afflicted, and relieves the indigent, ac-
cording to its ability; and as it primarily respects the im-
age of Christ in its objects, it feels a more peculiar attach-
ment to those uhom it judges to be the most spiritual,
though without undervaluing or despising the weakest
attainments in the true grace of the Gospel.
They are happy who thus love the brethren. They
have p^issed from death unto life; and may plead this
gracious disposition, though not before the Lord as the
ground of their hope, yet against Satan, when he would
tempt them to question their right to tiie promises. But
alas ! as I before hinted, the exercise of this love, when
it really is implanted, is greatly obstructed through the
334 Of Love to the Brethren. Let. Bl.
remaining depravity which cleaves to believers. Wc
cannot be too watchful against those tempers which
weaken the proper effects of brotherly love, and thereby
have a tendency to darken the evidence of our having
passed from death unto life. We live in a day when
the love of many, (of ^^'hom we would hope the best,) is at
least grown very cold. The effects of a narrow, a sus-
picious, a censorious, and a selfish spirit, are but too evi-
dent amongst professors of the Gospel. If I w ere to
insist at large upon the offences of this kind which abound
amongst us, I should seem almost reduced to the neces-
sity, either of retracting what I have advanced, or of
maintaining that a great part, (if not the greatest part,)
of those who profess to know the Lord, are deceiving
themselves with a form of godliness, destitute of the
power : for though they may abound in knowledge and
gifts, and have much to say upon the subject of Chris-
tian experience, they appear to want the great, the ini-
mitable, the indispensable criterion of true Christianity,
a love to the brethren ; without which, all other seeming
advantages and attainments are of no avail. How is this
disagreeable dilemma to be avoided ?
I believe they who are most under the influence of
divine love, will join with me in lamenting their defi-
ciency. It is well that we are not under the law, but
under grace ; for on whatever point we try ourselves by
the standard of the sanctuary, we shall find reason to
say, " Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O
" Lord." There is an amazing and humbling difference
between the conviction we have of the beauty and ex-
cellence of divine truths, and our actual experience of
their power ruling in our hearts. In our happiest hours,
"when we are most affected with the love of Jesus, we
feel our love fervent towards his people. Wc wish it
Let. 31. Of Love to the Brethren^ 325
were always so; but we are poor inconsistent creatures,
and find we can do nothing as we ought, but as we are
enabled by his grace. But we trust we do not allow
ourselves in what is wrong ; and, notwithstanding we
may in particular instances be nnisled by ignorance
and prejudice, we do in our hearts love the brethren,
account them the excellent of the earth, and desire to
have our lot and portion with them in time and in eter-
nity. We know that the love we bear them is for his
sake ; and when we consider his interest in them^ and
our obligations to hirn^ we are ashamed and grieved
that we love them no better.
If we could not conscientiously say thus much, we
should have just reason to question our sincerity, and
the safety of our state ; for the Scriptures cannot be
broken, nor can the grace of God fail of producing in
some degree its proper fruits. Our Saviour, before
whom we must shortly appear as our judge, has made
love the characteristic of his disciples ; and without
some evidence that this is the prevailing disposition of
our hearts, we could find little comfort in calling him
God. Let not this be accounted legality, as if our de-
pendence was upon something in ourselves. The ques-
tion is not concerning the method of acceptance with
God, but concerning the fruits or tokens of an accepted
state. The most eminent of these, by our Lord's ex-
press declaration, is brotherly love. " By this shall all
" men know that you are my disciples, if you love one
" another." No w^ords can be plainer ; and the conse-
quence is equally plain, however hard it may bear upon
any professors, that though they could speak with the
tongues of angels, had the knowledge of all mysteries, a
power of working miracles, and a zeal prompting them to
give their bodies to be burned in defence of the truth ;
326 On Candour. Let. 32.
yet if they love not the brethren, they are but as sound-
ing brass or tinkling cymbals : they may make a great
noise in the church and in the world ; they may be wise
and able men, as the words are now frequently under-
stood ; they may pray or preach with great jfiuency ;
but in the sight of God their faith is dead, and their
religion is vain.
lam, &c.
LETTER XXXII.
On Candour.
Dear Sir,
AM with you an admirer of candour ; but let us be-
ware of counterfeits. True candour is a Christian grace,
and will grow in no soil but a believing heart. It is an
eminent and amiable properly of that love which beareth,
believeth, hopeth, and endureth all things. It forms
the most favourable judgment of persons and charac-
ters, and puts the kindest construction upon the con-
duct of others that it possibly can, consistent with the
love of truth. It makes due allowances for the infirmi-
ties of human nature ; will not listen with pleasure to
what is said to the disadvantage of any, nor repeat it
without a justifiable cause. It will not be confined
within the walls of a party, nor restrain the actings of
benevolence to those whom it fully approves ; but
prompts the mind to an imitation of him who is kind
to the unthankful and the evil, and has taught us to
consider every person we see as our neighbour.
Such is the candour which I wish to derive from the
Gospel ; and I am persuaded they who have imbibed
Let. 32. On Candour. 327
most of this spirit, will acknowledge that they arc still
defective in it. There is an unhappy propensity, even
in good men, to a selfish, narrow, censorious turn of
mind ; and the bdst are more under the power of pre-
judice than they are aware. A want of candour among
the professors of the same Gospel, is too visible in the
present day. A truly candid person will acknowledge
what is right and excellent in those from whom he may
be obliged to differ : he will not charge the faults or ex-
travagances of a few upon a whole party or denomina-
tion : if he thinks it his duty to point out or refute the
errors of any persons, he will not impute to them such
consequences of their tenets as they expressly disavow;
he will not wilfully misrepresent or aggravate their mis-
takes, or make them offenders for a word : he will keep
in view the distinction between those things which are
fundamental and essential to the Christian life, and
those concerning which a difference of sentiment may
and often has obtained among true believers. Were
there more candour among those who profess to love
the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, the emotions of anger
or scorn would not be so often felt or excited, by pro-
nouncing or hearing the words Churchman, or Dis-
senter, or Cahinist, or even Arm'mian. Let us, my
friend, be candid: let us remember how totally ignorant
we ourselves once Mere ; how often we have changed
our sentiments in one particular or other, since wx first
engaged in the search of truth ; how often we have been
imposed upon by appearances ; and to how many dif-
ferent persons and occurrences we have been indebted,
under God, for the knowledge which we have already
attained. Let us likewise consider what treatment
we like to meet with from others ; and do unto them
as Ave would they should do unto us. These consi-
32S On Candour. "Lat. o2.
derations will make the exercise of candour habitual
and easy.
But there is a candour, falsely so called, which
springs from an indifference to the truth, and is go-
verned by the fear of men and the love of praise. This
pretended candour depreciates the most important doc-
trines of the Gospel, and treats them as points of spe-
culation and opinion. It is a temporizing expedient to
stand fair with the world, and to avoid that odium which
is the unavoidable consequence of a steadfast, open, and
hearty adherence to the truth as it is in Jesus. It aims
to establish an intercommunity between light and dark-
ness, Christ and Belial; and, under a pretence of avoid-
ing harsh and uncharitable judgments, it introduces a
mutual connivance in principles and practices which are
already expressly condemned by clear decisions of Scrip-
ture. Let us not listen to the advocates for a candour
of this sort ; such a lukewarm temper, in those who
would be thought friends of the Gospel, is treason
against God, and treachery to the souls of men. It is
observable, that they who boast most of this candour,
and pretend to the most enlarged and liberal way of
thinking, are generally agreed to exclude from their
comprehension all M'hom they call bigots ; that is, in
other words, those who, having been led by divine grace
to build their hopes upon the foundation w^iich God has
laid in Zion, are free to declare their conviction, that
other foundation can no man lay; and who, having seen
that the friendship of the world is enmity with God,
dare no longer conform to its leadins; maxims or cus-
toms, nor express a favourable judgment of the state
or conduct of those who do. Candour itself knows not
how to be candid to these; their singularity and impor-
tunity are offensive; and it is thought no way inconsist-
Let. 3^2. On Camlout: 329
ent with the specious boast of benevolence and mode-
ration to oppose, hate, and revile them. A sufficient
proof, that the candour which many plead for, is only a
softer name for that spirit of the world which opposes
itself to the truth and obedience of the Gospel.
If a person be an avowed Socinian or Deist, I am
still to treat him with candour ; he has a right from me,
so far as he comes in my way, to all the kind offices of
humanity. lam not to hate, reproach, or affront him;
or to detract from what may be valuable in his charac-
ter, considered as a member of society. I may avail
myself of his talents and abilities in points where I am
not in danger of being misled by him. He may be a
good lawyer, or historian, or physician; and I am not to
lessen him in these respects, because I cannot commend
him as a divine. I am bound to pity his errors, and to
pray if perad venture God will give him repentance to
the acknowledgment of the truth; and if I have a call
to converse with him, I should speak with all gentleness
and meekness, remembering that grace alone has made
me to differ. But I am not to compliment him, to in-
sinuate, or even to admit that there can be any safety
in his principles. Far be that candour from us which
represents the Scripture as a nose of wax, so that a
person may reject or elude the testimonies there given
to the Deity and atonement of Christ, and the all-
powerful agency of the Holy Spirit, with impunity.
On the other hand, they who hold the Head, who
liave received the record which God hatli given of his
Son ; who have Scriptural views of sin and grace, and fix
their hopes for time and eternity upon the Saviour; in a
word, all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity; —
these, I apprehend, if they are prevented from receiving,
jicknowledgins;, and loving each other, as he has rC'
Vol. I, ^' 2 U
530 On C'cindouf. Let.
64,
ceived, owned, and loved them, are justly chargeable witli
a want of candour. Shall I be cold to diose whom
Jesus loves? Shall I refuse them whom he has accepted?
I find perhaps that they cannot rightly understand, and
therefore cannot readily embrace some points of doctrine
in which the Lord has been pleased to enlighten me ;
that is, I, (supposing my knowledge to be real and ex-
perimental,) have received five talents, and they have
as yet obtained but two ; must I for this estrange myself
from them ? Rather let me be careful lest they be found
more faithful and exemplary in the improvement of two
talents, than I am in the management of five. Again,
why should some of those who know, or might know,
that my hope, my way, my end, and my enemies, are the
same with theirs, stand aloof from me, and treat me with
coldness and suspicion, because I am called a Cal-
vinist ? I was not born a Calvinist, and possibly they
may not die as they are; however that may be, if our
hearts are fixed upon the same Jesus, we shall be per-
fectly of one mind ere long, why should we not encou-
rage and strengthen one another now? O that the arm
of the Lord might be revealed, to revive that candour
which the apostle so strongly enforces both by precept
and example! Then the strong would bear the infir-
mities of the weak, and believers would receive each
otl^er without doubtful disputation.
Once more : However sound and orthodo.v, (as the
phrase is^) professors may be in their principles, though
true candour will make tender allowances for the frailty
of nature, and the power of temptation, yet neither
candour nor charity will require us to accept them as
real believers, unless the general strain and tenor of
their deportment be as becometh the Gospel of Christ.
It is to be lamented that too many judge rather by the
Let. 32. O/i Candow: 331
notions which people express, than by the fruits which
they produce ; and as they judge of others, so they often
judge of themselves. We cannot have opportunity to
say all we could wish, and to all M'hom we would wish
to say it, upon tliis subject, in private life. Therefore it
is the wisdom and duty of those who preach, and of those
who print, to drop a word of caution in the way of their
liearers and readers, that they may not mistake notion
for life, nor a form of godliness for the power. The
grace of God is an operative principle ; and where it
really has place in the heart, the effects will be seen ;
Acts xi. 23. : effects so uniform and extensive, that
the apostle James makes one single branch of conduct,
and that such a one as is not usually thought the most
important, a sufficient test of our state before God ; for
he affirms universally, that " if any man seem to be re-
" ligious, and bridleth not his tongue, his religion is
" vain." And again he assures us, that " whoever will
'"' be a friend of the world, is the enemy of God." And
to the same purpose Paul expresses himself on the sub-
ject of love, (that love which he describes so accurately,
that none can mistake it, unless they willingly deceive
themselves.) He declares, that, without this love, the
brightest knowledge, the warmest zeal, and the most
splendid gifts, are nothing worth. It is to be feared
these decisions will bear hard upon many who have a
name to live among the churches of Christ. Thevare
hearers and approvers of the Gospel, express a regard
to those who preach it ; they will stickle and fight for
the doctrines, and know not how to bear those who fall
a hair's breadth short of their standard : and vet there is
so much levity or pride, censoriousness or worldliness,
discoverable in their general behaviour, that their cha-
racters appear very dubious ; and though we are bound
S^2 (1) On Mcxn in hia Fallen Estate. Let. 33.
to wish them well, candour will not oblige or warrant
us to judge favourably of such conduct; for the uner-
ring word of God is the standard to which our judg-
ments are to be referred and conformed
In the sense and under the limitations which I have
expressed, we ought to cultivate a candid spirit, and
learn from the experience of our own weakness, to be
Sentle and tender to others ; avoidintj at the same time
that indifference and cowardice, which, under the name
of candour, countenances error, extenuates sin, and de-
rogates from the authority of Scripture.
1 am, &:c.
LETTER XXXIII.
(1) On Man in his Fallen Estate.
Lord, what is Man !
Dear Sir,
VV E, hear much in the present day of the dignity of
human nature. x\nd it is allowed that man was an ex-
cellent creature as he came out of the hands of God ;
but if ^ve consider this question with a view to fallen
man, as depraved by sin, how can we but join with the
Psalmist in wonder that the great God should make
any account of him ?
Fallen as man is from his original state of happiness
and holiness, his natural faculties and abilities afford
sufficient evidence, that the hand which made him is
divine. He is capable of great things. His under-
standing, will, affections, imagination, and memory, arc
noble and amazing powers. But aIcw him in a moral
light, as an intelligent being, incessantly dependent upon
Lei. 33. (1) On Man m Ms FallcJi Estate. 333
God, accountable to him, and appointed by him to a
5;tate of existence in an unchangeable world ; consider-
ed in this relation, man is a monster, a vile, base, stupid,
obstinate, and mischievous creature; no words can fully
describe him. ]\Ian, M'ith all his boasted understand-
ing and attainments, is a fool : so long as he is destitute
of the saving grace of God, his conduct, as to bis most
important concernments, is more absurd and inconsist-
ent than that of the meanest idiot; witli respect to his
affections and pursuits, he is degraded far below the
beasts; and for the malignity and wickedness of his will,
can be compared to nothing so properly as to the devil.
The question here is not concerning this or that man,
a Nero or a Hehogabalus, but concerning human na-
ture, the whole race of mankind, the few excepted who
are born of God. There is indeed a difference amongst
men, but it is owing to the restraints of Divine Provi-
dence, without which earth would be the very image of
hell. A wolf or a lion, while chained, cannot do so
much mischief as if they were loose ; but the nature is
the same in the w hole species. Education and interest,
fear and shame, human laws, and the secret power 4Df
God over the mind, combine to form many characters
that are externally decent and respectable ; and even
the most abandoned are under a restraint which pre-
vents them from manifesting a thousandth part of the ,
wickedness which is in their hearts. 13ut the heart it-
self is universally deceitful, and desperately wicked.
Man is a fool. He can indeed measure the earth,
and almost count the stars ; he abounds in arts and
inventions, in science and policy — and shall he then be
called a fool ? The ancient Heathens, the inhabitants
of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, were eminent for this kind
of wisdom. They are to this day studied as models bv
334. (1) On Man in his Fallen Estate. Let. 33.
those who aim to excel in history, poetry, painting,
architecture, and other exertions of human genius, "vvhich
are suited to polish the manners, without improving the
heart. But their most admired philosophers, legisla-
tors, logician?, orators, and artists, were as destitute as
infants or idiots of that knowledge which alone deserves
the name of true wisdom. Professing themselves to be
wise, they became fools. Ignorant and regardless of
God, 3^et conscious of their weakness, and of their de-
pendence upon a power above their own, and stimu-
lated by an inv»ar(l principle of fear, of which they knew
neither the origin nor right application, they worship-
ped the creature instead of the Creator, vea, placed
their trust in stocks and stones, in the works of men's
hands, in non-entities and chimeras. An acquaintance
with their mythology, or system of religious fables,
passes with us for a considerable branch of learning,
because it is drawn from ancient books written in lan-
guages not known to the vulgar ; but in point of cer-
tainty or truth, we might receive as much satisfaction
from a collection of dreams, or from the ravings of lu-
natics. It^ therefore, we admit these admired sages as
a tolerable specimen of mankind, must we not confess,
that man in his best estate, while uninstructed by the
Spirit of God, is a fool? But are we wiser than they?
Not in the least, till the grace of God makes us so.
Our superior advantages only show our folly in a more
striking light. Why do we account any persons foolish ?
A fool has no sound judgment; he is governed wholly
by appearances, and u ould prefer a fine coat to the
writings of a large estate. He pays no regard to con-
sequences. Fools have sometimes hurt or killed their
best friends, and thought they did no harm. A fool
cannot r<;ason, therefore arguments are lost upon him.
Let. 33. (I) On Man in his Fallen Estate. 335
At one time, if tied with a straw, he dares not stir ; at
another time, perhaps, he can hardly be persuaded to
move, though the house were on fire. Are these the
characteristics of a fool ? Then there is no fool like the
sinner, who prefers the toys of earth to the happiness of
heaven ; who is held in bondage by the foolish customs
of the world, and is more afraid of the breath of man,
than of the wrath of God.
Again : Man in his natural state is a beast, yea, below
the beasts that perish. In two things he strongly re-
sembles them ; in looking no higher than to sensual
gratifications, and in that selfishness of spirit which
prompts him to propose himself and his own interest as
his proper and highest end. But in many respects he
sinks sadly beneath them. Unnatural lusts, and the
want of natural affection towards their offspring, are
abominations not to be found among the brute creation.
What shall we say of mothers destroying their children
with their own hands, or of the horrid act of self-mur-
der ! Men are worse than beasts likewise in their ob-
stinacy ; they will not be warned. If a beast escapes
from a trap, he will be cautious how he goes near it
again, and in vain is the net spread in the sight of any
bird. But man, though he be often reproved, hardens
his neck; he rushes upon his ruin with his eyes open,
and can defy God to his face, and dare damnation.
Once more : Let us observe how man resembles the
devil. There are spiritual sins, and from these in their
height the Scripture teaches us to judge of Satan's cha-
racter. Every feature in this descriotion is strono- in
man ; so that what our Lord said to the Jews is of ge-
neral application, " Ye are of your father the devil, and
" the lusts of your father you will do." Man resembles
Satan m pride ; this stupid, wicked creature values him-
336 (1) On Man in his Fallen Estafc, Let. 33.
self upon his wisdom, power, and virtue, and will talk
of being saved by his good works ; though if he can,
Satan himself need not despair. He resembles him in
malice; and this diabolical disposition often proceeds to
murder, and would daily if the Lord did not restrain it.
He derives from Satan the hateful spirit of e7ivij : he is
often tormented beyond expression, by beholding the
prosperity of his neighbours; and proportionably pleas-
ed with their calamities, though he gains no other advan-
tage from them than the gratification of this rancorous
principle. He bears the image likewise of Satan in his
cruelty. This evil is bound up in the heart even of a
child. A disposition to take pleasure in giving pain to
others, appears very early. Children, if left to them-
i^elves, soon feel a gratification in torturing insects and
animals. What misery does the wanton cruelty of men
inflict upon cocks, dogs, bulls, bears, and other crea-
tures, which they seem to think were formed for no
other end than to feast their savage spirits with their
torments ! If we form our judgment of men, when
they seem most pleased, and have neither anger nor re-
sentment to plead in their excuse, it is too evident, even
from the nature of their amusements, Avhose they are
and whom they serve ; and they are the worst of ene-
mies to each other. Think of the horrors of war, the
rage of duellists, of the murders and assassinations with
which the world is filled, and then say, " Lord, what
" is man !*' Further, if deceit and treachery belong to
Satan's character, then surely man resembles him. Is-
not the universal observation, and complaint of all ages,
an affecting comment upon the prophet's words, "Trust
" ye not in a friend, put not confidence in a guide, keep
" the doors of thy mouth from her that lieth in thy
" bosom, for they hunt every man his brother \s\i\\ a
Let 33. (1) On Man in his Fallen Estate. 337
" net." How many have at this moment cause to say
with David, " Tiie words of his mouth were smoother
" than butter, but war was in his heart ; his words were
'' softer than oil, yet were they drawn swords." Again :
like Satan, men are eager in tempting others to sin ;
not content to damn themselves, they employ all their
arts and influence to draw as many as they can with
them into the same destruction. Lastly : In direct op-
position to God and goodness, in contemptuous enmity
to the Gospel of his grace, and a bitter persecuting
spirit against those who profess it, Satan himself can
hardly exceed them. Herein, indeed, they are his
agents and willing servants; and because the blessed
God is himself out of their reach, they labour to show
their despite to him in the persons of his people.
I have drawn but a sketch, a few outlines of the pic-
ture of fallen man. To give an exact copy of him, to
charge every feature with its full aggravation of horror,
and to paint him ^6- he is, would be impossible. Enough
has been observed to illustrate the propriety of the ex-
clamation, " Lord, what is man !" Perhaps some of
my readers may attempt to deny or extenuate the
charge, and may plead, that I have not been describing
mankind, but some of the most abandoned of the
species, who hardly deserve the name of men. But I
have already provided against this exception. It is hu-
man nature I describe ; and the vilest and most profli-
gate individuals, cannot sin be3'ond the powers and li-
mits of that nature which they possess in common with
the more mild and moderate. Though there may be a
difference in the fruitfulness of trees, yet the production
of one apple decides the nature of the tree upon which
it grew, as certainly as if it had produced a thousand :
so in the present case, should it be allowed that these
Vol. I. 2 X
338 (1) On Man in his Fallen Estate, Let. 33.
enormities cannot be found in all persons, it would be a
sufficient confirmation of what I have advanced, if they
can be found in any ; unless it could be likewise proved,
that those who appeared more wicked than others, were
of a different species from the rest. But I need not
make this concession ; they must be insensible indeed
Avho do not feel something within them so very contrary
to our common notions of goodness, as would perhaps
make them rather submit to be banished from human
society, than to be compelled bona jick to disclose to
their fellow-creatures every thought and desire which
arises in their hearts,
]\Iany useful reflections may be drawn from this un-
pleasing subject. We cannot at present conceive how
much we owe to the guardian care of Divine Provi-
dence, that any of us are preserved in peace and safety
for a single day in such a world as this. Live where
we will, we have those near us, who, both by nature,
and by the power which Satan has over them, are ca-
pable of the most atrocious crimes. But he whom they
know not, restrains them so that they cannot do the
things that they would. When he suspends the re-
straint, they act immediately ; then we hear of murders,
rapes, and outrages. But did not the Lord reign with
a strong hand, such evils would be perpetrated every
hour, and no one would be safe in the house or in the
field. His ordinance of civil government is one great
means of preserving the peace of society ; but this is in
many cases inadequate. The heart of man, when fully
bent upon evil, will not be intimidated or stoj)pcd by
gibbets and racks.
How wonderful is the love of Ciod in giving his Son
to die for such wretches ! And how strong and abso-
lute is the necessity of a new birth, if we would be
Let. 3-1. (2) On Man In his Fallen Estate. 339
happy ! Can beasts and devils inlierit the kingdom of
God? The due consideration of this subject is likewise
needful, to preserve believers in an humble, thankful,
watchful frame of Spirit. Such we once were, and
such, with respect to the natural principle remaining in
us, which the apostle calls the flesh or the old man, we
still are. The propensities of fallen nature are not era-
dicated in the children of God, though by grace they
are made partakers of a new principle, which enables
them, in the Lord's strength, to resist and mortify the
body of sin, so that it cannot reign in them. Yet they
are liable to sad surprisals ; and the histories of Aaron,
David, Solomon, and Peter, are left on record, to teach
us what evil is latent in the hearts of the best men, and
what they are capable of doing if left but a little to
themselves. " Lord, what is man !'
I am, &c.
LETTER XXXIV.
(2) Qn Man in his Fallen Estate,
Lord, what is Man !
Dear Sir,
J. HE nature of fallen man agrees to the description
the apostle has given us of his boasted wisdom : it is
earthly, sensual, devilish. I have attempted some Ge-
neral delineation of it in the preceding letter ; but the
height of its malignity cannot be properly estimated,
unless we consider its actings \\ith respect to the licrht
of the Gospel. The Jews were extremely wicked at
the time of our Lord's appearance upon earth : vet he
310 (2) On Man in his Fallen Estate. Let. 34.
said of them, " If I had not come and spoken to them,
" they had not had sin ;" that is, as the light and power
of his ministry deprived them of all excuse for continu-
ing in sin, so it proved the occasion of showing their
wickedness in the most aggravated manner; and all
their other sins were but faint proofs of the true state
of their hearts, if compared with the discovery they
made of themselves, by their pertinacious opposition to
Jiirn. In this sense, what the apostle has observed of
the law of Moses, may be applied to the Gospel of
Christ: it entered, that sin might abound. If we would
estimate the utmost exertions of human depravity, and
the strongest effects it is capable of producing, we must
select our instances from the conduct of those to whom
the Gospel is known. The Indians, who roast their
enemies alive, give sufficient proof that man is barbarous
to his own kind ; which may likewise be easily demon-
strated without going so far from home; but the preach-
ing of the Gospel discovers the enmity of the heart
against God, in ways and degrees of which unenlight-
ened savages and heathens are not capable.
By the Gospel, I now mean not merely the doctrine
of salvation as it lies in the holy Scripture, but that pub-
lic and authoritative dispensation of this doctrine, which
the Lord Jesus Christ has committed to his true mini-
sters ; who having been themselves, by the power of his
grace, brought out of darkness into marvellous light,
are by his Holy Spirit qualified and sent forth to de-
clare to their fellow-sinners, what they have seen, and
felt, and tasted, of the word of life. Their commission
is, to exalt the Lord alone, to stain the pride of all hu-
man glory. They are to set forth the evil and demerit
bf sin, the strictness, spirituality, and sanction of the
law of God, the total apostacy of mankind ; and from
Let. 34. (2) On Man in 7iis Fallen Estate. 341
these premises to demonstrate the utter impossibility of
a sinner's escaping condemnation by any works or en-
deavours of his own ; and then to proclaim a full and
free salvation from sin and wrath, by faith in the name,
blood, obedience, and mediation of God manifest in the
flesh ; together with a denunciation of eternal misery to
all who shall finally reject the testimony which God has
given of his Son. Though these several branches of
the will of God respecting sinners, and other truths in
connexion with them, are plainly revealed and repeat-
edly inculcated in the Bible ; and though the Bible is to
be found in almost every house, yet we see, in fact, it
is a sealed book, little read, little understood, and there-
fore but little regarded, except in those places which
the Lord is pleased to favour with ministers who can
confirm them from their own experience, and who, by
a sense of his constraining love, and the worth of souls,
are animated to make the faithful discharge of their mi-
nistry the one great business of their lives : who aim
not to possess the wealth, but to promote the welfare of
their hearers ; are equally regardless of the frowns or
smiles of the Avorld ; and count not their lives dear, so
that they may be wise and successful in winning souls
to Christ.
When the Gospel, in this sense of the word, first
comes to a place, though the people are going on in
sin, they may be said to sin ignorantly ; they have not
yet been warned of their danger. Some are drinking
down iniquity like water ; others more soberly burying
themselves alive in the cares and business of the world ;
others find a little time for what they call religious
duties, which they persevere in, though they are utter
strangers to the nature or the pleasure of spiritual wor-
ship ; partly, as thereby they think to bargain with God,
343 {2) On Man in his Fallen Estate, Let. 34.
and to make amends for such sins as they do not choose
to relinquish ; and partly because it gratifies their pride,
and affords them, (as they think,) some ground for say-
ing, " God, I thank thee I am not as other men." The
preached Gosjicl declares the vanity and danger of these
several ways which sinners choose to walk in. It de-
clares, and demonstrates, that, different as they appear
from each other, they are equally remote from the path
of safety and peace, and all tend to the same point, the
destruction of those who persist in them. At the same
time it provides against that despair into which men
^vould be otherwise plunged, when convinced of their
sins, by revealing the immense love of God, the glory
and grace of Christ, and inviting all to come to him,
that they may obtain pardon, life, and happiness. In
a word, it shows the pit of hell under men's feet, and
opens the gate and points out the way to heaven. Let
us now briefly observe the effects it produces in those
who do not receive it as the power of God unto salva-
tion. These effects are various, as tempers and cir-
cumstances vary ; but they may all lead us to adopt the
Psalmist's exclamation, " Lord, what is man !"
J\lany who have heard the Gospel once or a few
times, will hear it no more ; it awakens their scorn, their
hatred and rage. They pour contempt upon the wis-
dom of God, despise his goodness, defy his power ;
and their very looks express the spirit of the rebellious
Jews, who told the prophet Jeremiah to his face, " As
" to the word which thou hast spoken to us in the name
" of the Lord, we will not hearken to thee at all." The
ministers who preach it, are accounted men that turn the
world upside down ; and the people who receive it, fools
or hypocrites. The word of the Lord is a burden to
fhcm, and they hate it with a perfect hatred. How
Let. 3-1. (2) On Man in his Fallen Estate. 343
strongly is the disposition of the natural heart manifested,
by the confusion which often takes place in families,
where the Lord is pleased to awaken one or two in a
house, while the rest remain in their sins ! To profess,
or even to be suspected of, an attachment to the Gospel
of Christ, is frequently considered and treated as the
worst of crimes, sufficient to cancel the strongest obliga-
tions of relation or friendship. Parents, upon such a
provocation, will hate their children, and children ridi-
cule their parents : many find, agreeable to our Lord's
declaration, that from the time a sense of his love en-
gaged their hearts to love him again, their worst foes
have been those of their own household ; and that they
who expressed the greatest love and tenderness for
them before their conversion, can now hardly bear to
see them.
The bulk of a people will perhaps continue to hear,
at least now and then, and to those who do, the Spirit
of God usually, at one time or other, bears testimony to
the truth : their consciences are struck, and for a season
they believe and tremble. But what is the consequence }
No man Avho has taken poison seeks more earnestly or
speedily for an antidote, than those do for something to
stifle and smother their convictions. They run to com-
pany, to drink, to any thing, for relief against the un-
welcome intrusion of serious thoughts; and when they
succeed, and recover their former indifference, they re-
joice as if they had escaped some great danger. The
next step is, to ridicule their own convictions; and next
to that, if they see any of their acquaintance under the
like impressions, to use every art, and strain every
nerve, that they may render them as obstinate as them-
selves. For this purpose, they T.atch as a fouler for
the bird, flatter or revile, tempt or threaten; and if thev
344 (2) On Mm in his Fallen Estate. Let. 34.
can prevail^ and are the occasion of hardening any in
their sins, they rejoice and triumph as if they accounted
it their interest and their glory to ruin the souls of their
fellow- creatures.
By frequent hearing, they receive more light. They
are compelled to know, whether they will or not, that
the wrath of God hangs over the children of disobe-
dience. They carry a sting in their consciences, and at
times feel themselves most miserable, and cannot but
wish they had never been born, or that they had been
dogs or toads, rather than rational creatures. Yet they
harden themselves still more. They affect to be happy
and at ease, and force tliemselves to wear a smile when
anguish preys upon their hearts. They blaspheme the
way of truth, watch for the faults of professors, and
with a malicious joy publish and aggravate them. They
see perhaps how the w icked die, but are not alarmed ;
they see the righteous die, but are not moved. Nei-
ther providences nor ordinances, mercies nor judgr
ments, can stop them ; for they are determined to go
on and perish with their eyes open, rather than submit
to the Gospel.
But they do not always openly reject the Gospel-
truths. Some A\ ho profess to approve and receive
them, do thereby discover the evils of the heart of man,
if possible, in a yet stronger light. They make Christ
the minister of sin, and turn his grace into licentious-
ness. Like Judas, they say, Hail, Master! and betray
him. This is the highest pitch of iniquity. They per-
vert all the doctrines of the Gospel. From election
they draw an excuse for continuing in their evil ways ;
and contend for salvation without works, because they
love not obedience. They extol the righteousness of
Christ, but hold it in opposition to personal holiness.
Let. 34. (2) On Man in his Fallen Estate. 345
In a word, because they hear that God is good, they
determine to persist in evil. " Lord, what is man !"
Thus wilful and impenitent sinners go on from bad
to worse, deceiving and being deceived. The word
which they despise becomes to them a savour of death
unto death. They take different courses, but all are
travelling down to the pit : and, unless sovereign mercy
interpose, will soon sink to rise no more. The final
event is usually two-fold. Many, after they have been
more or less shaken by the word, settle in formality.
If hearing would supply the place of faith, love, and
obedience, they would do well; but by degrees they be-
come sermon-proof: the truths which once struck them
lose their power by being often heard ; and thus multi-
tudes live and die in darkness, though the light has long
shone around them. Others are more openly given up
to a reprobate mind. Contempt of the Gospel makes
Infidels, Deists, and Atheists. They are filled with a
spirit of delusion to believe a lie. These are scoffers,
walking after their own lusts ; for where the principles
of religion are given up, the conduct will be vile and
abominable. Such persons sport themselves w ith their
own deceivings, and strongly prove the truth of the
Gospel, while they dispute against it. We often find
that people of this cast have formerly been the subjects
of strong convictions ; but when the evil spirit has
seemed to depart for a season, and returns again, the
last state of that person is worse than the first.
It is not improbable that some of my readers may
meet with their own characters, under one or other of
the views 1 have given of the desperate wickedness of
the heart, in its actings against the truth. May the
Spirit of God constrain them to read with attention !
Your case is dangerous, but I would hope not utterly
Vol. I. ^ 2 Y
346 On some Blemishes 'in Christian Chanido's. Let. 3.3.
desperate. Jesus is mighty to save. His grace can
pardon the most aggravated offences, and subdue the
most inveterate habits of sin. The Gospel you have
hitherto slighted, resisted, or opposed, is still the power
of God unto salvation. The blood of Jesus, upon which
you have hitherto trampled, speaks better things than
the blood of Abel, and is of virtue to cleanse those
^\ hose sins are scarlet and crimson, and to make them
w hite as snow. As yet you are spared ; but it is high
time to stop, to throw down your arms of rebellion, and
humble yourselves at his feet. If you do, you may yet
escape ; but if not, know assuredly that wrath is coming
upon you to the uttermost ; and you will shortly find,
to your unspeakable dismay, that it is a fearful thing to
fall into the hands of the living God.
I am, &c.
LETTER XXXV.
Whatsoever Things are lut'ely^ ivhatsoei'er Things are of good
Report^ — think on these Things. Phil. iv. 8.
Dear Sir,
X HE precept which I have chosen for my motto is
applicable to many particulars, Avhich are but seldom
and occasionally mentioned from the pulpit. There are
improprieties of conduct, which, though usually consi-
dered as foibles that hardly deserve a severe censure,
arc properly sinful ; for though som^ of them may not
seem to violate any express command of Scripture, yet
they are contrary to that accuracy and circumspection
which become our profession. A Christian, by the
tenor of his high calling, is bound to avoid even the
Let. 35. On sonic Blemishes in Chmlian Characters. 347
appearance of evil ; and his deportment should not only
be upright as to his leading principles, but amiable and
engaging, and as free as possible from every inconsist-
ence and blemish. The characters of some valuable
persons are clouded ; and the influence they might other-
wise have, greatly counteracted by comparatively small
faults : yet faults they certainly are ; and it would be
well if they could be made so sensible of them, and of
their ill effects, as that they might earnestly watch, and
strive, and pray against them. I know not how to ex-
plain myself better than by attempting the outlines of a
few portraits, to each of which I apprehend some strong
resemblances may be found in real life. I do not wish
to set my readers to work to find out such resemblances
among their neighbours ; but would advise them to exa-
mine carefully, whether they cannot, in one or other of
them, discover some traces of their own features : and
though I speak of men only, counterparts to the several
characters may doubtless be found here and there among
the women ; for the imperfections and evils of a fallen
nature, are equally entailed upon both sexes.
AusTERi:s is a solid and exemplary Christian. He
has a deep, extensive, and experimental knowledge of
divine things. Inflexibly and invariably true to his
principles, he stems with a noble singularity the torrent
of the world, and can neither be bribed nor intimidated
from the path of duty. He is a rough diamond of great
intrinsic value, and would sparkle with a distinguished
lustre, if he were more polished : but though the word
of God is his daily study, and he prizes the precepts, as
well as the promises, more than thousands of gold and
i-ilver, there is one precept he seems to have over-
looked ,• I mean that of the apostle. Be courteous.
Instead of that gentleness and condescension which will
348 On some Blemishes in Christian Characters. Let. 35.
always be expected from a professed follower of the
meek and lowly Jesus ; there is a harshness in his man-
ner, which makes him more admired than beloved ; and
they who truly love him, often feel more constraint than
pleasure Avhen in his company. His intimate friends
are satisfied that he is no stranger to true humility of
heart ; but these are few. By others he is thought
proud, dogmatic, and self-important ; nor can this pre-
judice against him be easily removed, until he can lay
aside that cynical air which he has unhappily con-
tracted.
HuMANUs is generous and benevolent. His feel-
ings are lively, and his expressions of them strong. No
one is more distant from sordid views, or less influenced
by a selfish spirit. His heart burns with love to Jesus,
and he is ready to receive with open arms ail who love
his Saviour. Yet with an upright and friendly spirit,
■which entitles him to the love and esteem of all who
know him, he has not every thing we Avould wish in a
friend. In some respects, though not in tl)e most cri-
minal sense, he bridleth not his tongue. Should you,
without witness or writing, intrust him with untold gold,
you would run no risk of loss ; but if you intrust him
•with a secret, you thereby pHt it in the possession of
the public. Not that he would wilfully betray you,
but it is his infirmity. He knows not how to keep a
secret; it escapes from him before he is aware. So
likewise as to matters of fact : in things which are of
great importance, and where he is sufficiently informed,
no man has a stricter regard to truth ; but in the smaller
concerns of common life, whether it be from credulity,
or from a strange and blameable inadvertence, he fre-
quently grieves and surprises those who know his real
character, by saying the thing that is not. Thus the}-
Let. 35. On some Blemishes in Christian Characters. 349
to whom he opens his very heart, dare not make him
i^eturns of equal confidence; and they who in some cases
would venture their lives upon his word, in others are
afraid of telling a story after him. How lamentable are
such blemishes in such a person !
Prudens, though not of a generous natural temper,
is a partaker of that grace which opens the heart, and
inspires a disposition to love and to good works. He
bestows not his alms to be seen of men ; but they who
have the best opportunities of knowing what he does
for the relief of others, and of comparing it with his
ability, can acquit him in good measure of the charge'
w hich another part of his conduct exposes him to. For
Prudens is a jjreat economist: and though he would not
willingly wrong or injure any person, yet the meannesses
to which he will submit, either to save or gain a penny
in what he accounts an honest way, are a great dis-
credit to his profession. He is punctual in fulfilling his
engagements ; but exceedingly hard, strict, and suspi-
cious in making his bargains. And in his dress, and
every article of his personal concerns, he is content to
be so much below the station in which the providence
of God has placed him, that to those who are not ac-
quainted with his private benefactions to the poor, he
appears under the hateful character of a miser, and to
be governed by that love of money which the Scripture
declares to be the root of all evil, and inconsistent with
the true love of God and of the saints.
VoLATiLis is sufficiently exact in performing his
promises in such instances as he thinks of real impor-
tance. If he bids a person depend upon his assistance,
•he will not disappoint his expectations. Perhaps he is
equally sincere in all his promises at the time of making
them ; but for want of method in the management of his
350 On S07)ie Blemishes in Christian Cliaracters. Let. 35.
affairs, he is always in a hurry, always too late, and has
always some engagement upon his hands with which it
is impossible he can comply : yet he goes on in this way,
exposing himself and others to continual disappoint-
ments. He accepts, without a thought, proposals which
are incompatible with each other, and will perhaps un-
dertake to be at two or three difierent and distant places
at the same hour. This has been so long his practice,
that nobody now expects him till they see him. In
other respects he is a good sort of man ; but this want
of punctuality, which runs through his whole deport-
ment, puts every thing out of course in which he is con-
cerned, abroad and at home. VolatiUs excuses him-
self as well as he can, and chiefly by alleging, that the
things in which he fails are of no great consequence.
But he would do well to remember, that truth is a sacred
thing, and ought not to be violated in the smallest mat-
ters, without an unforeseen and unavoidable prevention.
Such a trifling turn of spirit lessens the weight of a per-
son's character, though he makes no pretensions to re-
ligion, and is a still greater blemish in a professor.
Cess A TOR is not chargeable with being buried in the
cares and business of the present life to the neglect of
the one thing needful ; but he greatly neglects the duties
of his station. Had he been sent into the world only
to read, pray, hear sermons, and join in religious con-
versation, he might pass for an eminent Christian. But
though it is to be hoped, that his abounding in these
exercises springs from a heart-attachnient to divine
things, his conduct evidences that his judgment is
weak, and his views of his Christian calling are very
narrow and defective. He docs not consider, that
waiting upon God in the public and private ordinances
is designed, not to excuse us from the discharge of the
Lei. 35. On some Blemishes in Christian Characters. 351
duties of civil life, but to instruct, strengthen, and qua-
lify us for their performance. His affairs are in disor-
der, and his family and connexions are likely to suffer
by his indolence. He thanks God that he is not wordly-
minded ; but he is an idle and unfaithful member of so-
ciety, and causes ihe way of truth to be evil spoken of.
Of such the apostle has determined, that " if any man
" will not work, neither should he eat."
CuRiosus is upright and unblameable in his general
deportment, and no stranger to the experiences of a
true Christian. His conversation upon these subjects
is often satisfactory and edifying. He would be a much
more agreeable companion, were it not for an imperti-
nent desire of knowing every body's business, and the
grounds of every hint that is occasionally dropped in
discourse where he is present. This puts him upon
askinji; a multiplicity of needless and improper ques-
tions ; and obliges those who know him, to be continu-
ally upon their guard, and to treat him with reserve.
He catechises even strangers, and is unwilling to part
with them till he is punctually informed of all their con-
nexions, employments, and designs. For this idle cu-
riosity he is marked and avoided as a busy-body ; and
they w'ho have the best opinion of him, cannot but
wonder that a man, who appears to have so many
better things to employ his thoughts, should find leisure
to amuse himself with what does not at all concern him.
Were it not for the rules of civility, he would be af-
fronted every day : and if he would attend to the cold
and evasive answers he receives to his inquiries, or
even to the looks with which they are accompanied, he
might learn, that, though he means no harm, he ap-
pears to a great disadvantage, and that this prying dis-
position, is very unplcasing.
352 On some Blemishes in Christian Characters. Let. 35.
QuERULUs wastes much of his precious time in de-
claiming against the management of public affairs; though
he has neither access to the springs which move the
wheels of government, nor influence either to accelerate
or retard their motions. Our national concerns are no
more affected by the remonstrances of Querulus, than
the heavenly bodies are by the disputes of astronomers.
While the news-papers are the chief sources of his in-
telligence, and his situation precludes him from being a
competent judge either of matters of fact, or matters of
right, why should Querulus trouble himself with politics?
This would be a weakness, if we consider him only as a
member of society ;'but if we consider him as a Chris-
tian, it is worse than weakness : it is a sinful conformity
to the men of the world, who look no further than to se-
cond causes, and forget that the LORD reigns. If a
Christian be placed in a public sphere of action,he should
undoubtedly be faithful to his calling, and endeavour
by all lawful methods to transmit our privileges to pos-
terity : but it would be better for Querulus to let the
dead bury the dead. There are people enough to make
a noise about political matters, who know not how to
employ their time to better purpose. Our Lord's king-
dom is not of this world ; and most of his people may
do their country much more essential service by pleading
for it in prayer, than by finding fault with things which
they have no power to alter. If Querulus had oppor-
tunity of spending a few months under some of the go-
vernments upon the continent, (I may indeed say under
any of them,) he would probably bring home with him
a more grateful sense of the Lord's goodness to him, in
appointing his lot in Britain. As it is, his zeal is not
only unprofitable to others, but hurttul to hiuiself It
embitters his spirit^ it diverts his thoughts from things of
Let. 36. To a gay Friend on Becovcnj from Illness, 353
greater importance, and prevents him from feeling the
value of those blessings, civil and religious, which he ac-
tually possesses: and could he, (as he wishes,) prevail on
many to act in the same spirit, the governing powers
might be irritated to take every opportunity of abridg-
ing that religious liberty which we are favoured with
above all the nations upon earth. Let me remind Que-
rulus, that the hour is approaching, when many things,
which at present too much engross his thoughts and in-
flame his passions, w ill appear as foreign to him as what
is now transactinof amono; the Tartars or Chinese.
Other improprieties of conduct, which lessen the in-
fluence, and spot the profession of some who wish well
to the cause of Christ, might be enumerated, but these
may suffice for a specimen.
I am, &c.
LETTER XXXVI.
To a gay Fncmd, on his Recovery from Ilhicss.
Dear Sir,
SUPPOSE you will receive many congratulations on
your recovery from your late dangerous illness; most of
them perhaps more sprightly and better turned, but none,
I persuade myself, more siivcere and affectionate than
mine. I beg you w ould prepare yourself by this good
opinion of me, before you read further : and let the
reality of my regard excuse what you may dislike in my
manner of expressing it.
When a person is returned from a doubtful distant
voyage, we are naturally led to inquire into the incidents
he has met with, and the discoveries he has made, In-
VOL. I. '1 Z
354i To a gay Friend on Recovery from Illness. Let. 36.
dulge me in a curiosity of this kind, especially as my
affection gives me an interest and concern in the event.
You have been, my friend, upon the brink, the very
edge of an eternal state; but God has restored you back
to the world again. Did you meet with, or have you
brought back, nothing new ? Did nothing occur to stop
or turn your usual train of thought ? Were your appre-
hensions of invisible things exactly the same in the height
of your disorder, when you were cut off from the world
and all its engagements, as when you were in perfect
health, and in the highest enjoyment of your own incli-
nations ? If you answer me, " Yes, all things are just
" the same as formerly, the difference between sickness
" and health only excepted ;" I am at a loss how to re-
ply. I can only sigh and wonder j sigh, that it should
be thus with any, that it should be thus with you, whom
I dearly love ; and wonder, since this unhappy case,
strange as it seems in one view, is yet so frequent, why
it was not always thus with myself; for long and often
it was just so. Many a time, when sickness had brought
me, as we say, to death's door, I was as easy and insen-
sible as the sailor, who, in the height of a storm, should
presume to sleep upon the top of the mast, quite regard-
less that the next tossing wave might plunge him into the
raging ocean, beyond all possibility of relief. But at
length a day came, which, though the most terrible day
I ever saw, I can now look back upon with thankful-
ness and pleasure : I say, the time came, when, in such
a helpless extremity, and under the expectation of im-
mediate death, it pleased God to command the vaiJ
from my eyes, and I saw things, in some measure, as
they really were. Imagine with yourself, a person
trembling upon the point of a dreadful precipice, a
powerful and inexorable enemy eager to push him down,
Let. 36. To a gay Friend o?i Recovery from Illness. 355
and an assemblage of all that is horrible waiting at the
bottom for his fall ; even this will give you but a faint
representation of the state of my mind at that time.
Believe me, it was not a whitn or a dream, which changed
my sentiments and conduct, but a powerful conviction,
which will not admit the least doubt; an evidence which,
like that I have of my own existence, I cannot call in
question without contradicting all my senses. And
though my case was in some respects uncommon, yet
something like it is known by one and another every
day : and I have myself conversed with many, who,
after a course of years spent in defending Deistical prin-
ciples, or indulging libertine practices, when they have
thought themselves confirmed in their schemes, by the
cool assent of what they then deemed Impartial Reason,
have been, like me, brought to glory in the cross of
Christ, and to live by that faith which they had before
slighted and opposed. By these instances, I know that
nothing is too hard for the Almighty. The same power
which humbled me, can undoubtedly bring down the
most haughty infidel upon earth. And as I likewise
knew, that, to show his power, he is often pleased to
make use of weak instruments, I am encouraged, not-
withstanding the apparent difficulty of succeeding, to
warn those over whom friendship or affection gives me
any influence, of the evil and the danger of a course of
life formed upon the prevailing maxims of the world.
So far as I neglect this, I am unfaithful in my pro-
fessions both to God and man.
I shall not at present trouble you in an argumenta-
tive way. If by dint of reasoning I could eflect some
change in your notions, my arguments, unless applied
by a superior power, would still leave your heart un-
changed and untouched. A man may give his assent
356 To a gay Friend on Recoverii from Illness. Let. 36,
to the Gospel, and be able to defend it against others,
and yet not have his own spirit truly influenced by it.
This thought I shall leave with you, that if your scheme
be not true to a demonstration, it must necessarily be
false ; for the issue is too important to make a doubt on
the dangerous side tolerable. If the Christian could
possibly be mistaken, he is still upon equal terms with
those who pronounce him to be so ; but if the Deist be
wrong, (that is, if we are in the right,) the consequence
to him must be unavoidable and intolerable. This, you
-will say, is a trite argument : I own it ; but, beaten as
it is, it will never be worn out or answered.
Permit me to remind you that the points in debate
between us are already settled in themselves, and that
our talking cannot alter or affect the nature of things ;
for they will be as they are, whatever apprehensions we
may form of them : and remember likewise, that we
must all, each one for himself, experience on which
side the truth lies. I used a wrong word, when I spoke
of your recox)ery ; my dear friend, look upon it only as
a repriex:e ; for you carry the sentence of death about
with you still ; and unless you should be cut off, (which
God of his mercy forbid !) by a sudden stroke, you will
as surely lie upon a death-bed, as you have been now
raised from a bed of sickness. And remember likewise,
(how can I bear to write it !) that, should you neglect
my admonitions, they will, notwithstanding, have an
effect upon you, though not such an effect as I could
wish. They w ill render you more inexcusable. I have
delivered my ow^n soul, by faithfully warning you : but
if you will not examine the matter with that seriousness
it calls for ; if you will not look up to God, the former
of your body, and the preserver of your spirit, for di-
rection and assistance how to please him ; if you will
Let. 37. On some Points of Clinstian Experience. 357
have your reading and conversation only on one side of
the question ; if you determine to let afflictions and
dangers, mercies and deliverances, all pass without re-
flection and improvement ; if you will spend your life
as though you thought you were sent into the world
only to eat, sleep, and play, and, after a course of years,
be extinguished like the snuff of a candle ; — why, then,
you must abide the consequences. But, assuredly,
sooner or later, God will meet you. My hearty daily
prayer is, that it may be in a way of mercy, and that
you may be added to the number of the trophies of his
invincible grace.
I am, &c.
LETTER XXXVir.
Some Faints of Christiaii Experience considered.
To a Friend.
Dear Sir,
X TRL^ST the difference of our sentiments, since we
are agreed in the one thing needful, will no more inter-
rupt our union and fellowship, than the difference of
our features, or the tone of our voices. I wish you to
believe that I would be^^o advocate for carelessness or
formality. I hope my conscience bears me Avitness,
that, besides trusting in the letter of the Scripture, I
likewise desire an increase of that inward and comfort-
able sense of divine things in which I believe you are
happy ; and that I wish not only to be a subject of the
kingdom of Jesus, but likewise to have that kingdom
powerfully set up in my heart, which consists of ri<>h-
teousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. Indeed,
358 On some Points of Chmlian Experience. Let. 37.
I see not how these can be distinguished, or what
ground I could have to think myself a subject of his
kingdom, unless I earnestly desired to have that king-
dom in all its branches and blessings flourishing in my
soul. I do not know that I live in the neglect of any
means appointed of God for my growth in these bless-
ings, or willingly allow myself in what is inconsistent
■with them ; I think my heart is habitually in the pur-
suit of them, and that there is seldom an hour in any
day when lively communion with my God, in Christ, is
not present to my view as the chief good. To this pur-
pose, through grace, I can venture to express myself to
vian, though still it is true, when I come before the
Lord, notwithstanding the diligence and circumspection
I would aim at, I see myself a poor, inconsistent crea-
ture, that my strength is perfect weakness, and all I
have is sin. I confess I am afraid of fixino; the crite-
rion of a work of grace too high, lest the mourners in
Zion should be discouraged ; because 1 find it is the
■will of God that such should not be discouraged, but
comforted ; and because it appears to me, that the
scriptural marks have respect rather to desires, if real,
than to attainments, or at least to those attainments
which are often possessed by persons who are kept very
short of sensible comforts, IMatth. v. 3 — 9. Luke xviii.
12, 13. 1 Pet. ii. 7.
The points between you and me seem chiefly the fol-
lowing : 1. When may a person be properly denomi-
nated a believer.^ 2. What are the proper evidences
and necessary concomitants of a lively thriving frame of
spirit? 3. Wliether such a degree of foithfulness to
light received, as is consistent with the remnant of a
depraved nature in our present state, m ill certainly and
always preserve our souls from declensions and ^vinter-
Let. 37. On some Points of Christian Experiawe. 359
seasons? 4. Whether that gracious humility, which
arises from a due sense of our own vileness, and of the
riches of divine grace, be ordinarily attainable without
some mortifying experience of the deceitfulness and des-
perate wickedness of our own hearts ? A few lines
upon each of these particulars, will, I think, take in the
chief parts of your letter.
I. We differ something with respect to what consti-
tutes a believer. I own nothing has surprised me more,
in the course of our friendly debate, than your supposing
that a person should date his conversion and his com-
m^cing a believer, from the time of his receiving the
Gospel-truths with that clearness and power as to pro-
duce in him an abiding assurance. The apostle, in
Eph. i. 13, makes a plain distinction between believing
and being sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise. By the
experience and observation of many years, I have been
more and more persuaded, that to represent assurance
as being of the essence of faith, is not agreeable to the
Scripture, which in many places cither expressly as-
serts, or strongly intimates, the contrary, John i. .50,
and XX. 29. Rom. x. 9- 1 John v. 1. Whoever is not
a believer, must be an unbeliever; there can be no me-
dium. Either there are many believers who have not
assurance, or else there are many unbelievers who love
the Lord Jesus, hate sin, are poor in spirit, and adorn
the doctrine of the Gospel by their temper and conver-
sation: and I doubt not but those who now have as-
surance, had, before they attained it, a something which
wrought by love, and overcame the world. I know no
principle capable of these effects but faith, which,
though at first it be like a grain of mustard-seed, is the
seed of God : though it be faint, it is genuine, as the
dawnincr lijrht is of the same nature with that which
3G0 On some Po'dUs of Christian Experioicc. Let. 37.
flows from the noon-day sun. I allow that while faith
is weak, there may be little solid comfort , if by that ex-
pression, abiding comfort be meant. Faith gives safety
and spiritual life : abiding peace and establishment fol-
low the sealing of the Spirit. But though an infant has
not the strength, activity, and understanding, which he
will attain when he arrives to the age of manhood, he
is as fully possessed of a principle of life, while he is
an infant, as at any time afterwards.
II. We seem to differ likewise as to the marks of a
lively thriving spirit ; at least if any are supposed to be
better or surer than those to which our Lord has pro-
mised blessedness, Matth. v. 3 — 9- He has said,
" Blessed are they that mourn ;" but he has not said,
More blessed are they that are comforted. They are
to be sure more happy at present ; but their blessedness
consists not in their present comforts, but in those per-
ceptions of Gospel-truths, which form them to that con-
trite spirit in which God delighteth, (Is. Ivii. 18,) and
which make them capable of divine comforts, and spirit-
ual hungerings and thirstings after them. Perhaps we
do not argue ad idem; we may mean different things. I
would not represent myself as a stranger to peace and
joy in the Holy Ghost. In the midst of all my conflicts,
I have a heart-felt satisfaction from the Gospel, which
nothing else could give. But I mean, though this be
with me as an abiding principle, it rarely aftbrds me
what I think you intend when you speak of sensible
comforts. I cannot feel that warmth of heart, that glow-
ing of love, which the knowledge of such a Saviour should
inspire. I account it my sin, and I feel it my burden,
that I cannot. And when I truly do this, when I can
abhor myself for my stupidity, mourn over it, and hum-
bly look up to the Lord for relief against it, I judge my
Let. 37. On sovie Points nf Christian Experience. 301
soul to be at such times as much alive to God, as it
would be if he saw fit to increase my comfort. Let me
always either rejoice in him, or mourn after him, I would
leave the alternative to him, who knows best how to suit
liis dispensations to my state; and I trust he knows that
I do not say this because 1 set a small value upon his
presence. As to the experience of the apostles, I be-
lieve they were patterns to all succeeding believers; but
with some regard to the several trials and services to
which we may be called in this world, he distributes se-
verally to all his people according to his own will, yet
with a wise and gracious accommodation to the circum-
stances and situations of each. The apostle Paul con-
nects the aboundings of his consolations with the aboun-
dings of his afflictions, and with the state of the people to
whom he preached, 2 Cor. i. 4 — 7. And if, instead
of preaching the Gospel from Jerusalem to Illyricum in
the face of persecution, he had lived in a land of liberty,
and been confined to a parochial cure, for aught I know,
his cup might not have run over so often. Succeeding
ministers of the Gospel, when called to very laborious
and painful services, have, for the like reasons, been
often favoured with a double portion of that joy which
makes hard things easy, and bitter things sweet. And,
in general, all the Lord's people who walk humbly be-
fore him, may expect that in or after seasons of great
trial, and in proportion to their pressures, he will fa-
vour them with peculiar comforts. It is in this way,
he in a great measure fulfils his promise of making their
strength equal to their day. And I am enabled to
trust him in this matter, that if he should at any time
see fit to call me to a more difiicult and dangerous
sphere of service, or lead me into the furnace of afflic-
tion, he Mould, if he saw it needful, support and refresh
Vol. L 3 A
3G2 On some Points of Christian Experience. Let. 37.
me by such manifestations of his glory and love, as I
know but little of at present. In a word, a humble
dependent frame of spirit, perseverance in the use of
appointed means, care to avoid all occasions of sin, an
endeavour to glorify God in our callings, and an eye to
Jesus as our all in all; — these things are to me sure
indications that the soul is right, that the Lord is pre-
sent, and that grace is thriving and in exercise, whe-
ther sensible consolations abound or not.
III. I propose the third question, concerning such a
degree of faithfulness to light received, as is consistent
'with the renuiants of a depraved nature, because I ap-
prehend one effect of indwelling sin is, to render it
morally impossible for us to be entirely faithful to that
light and power which God has given us. It may sound
like a contradiction to sav, we cannot do what we can
do : but there are many enigmas in a believer's experi-
ence, at least in mine ; and I never expect to meet the
man that knows his own heart, that will say he is al-
ways faithful, diligent, and obedient, to the full extent
of his ability ; I rather expect he would confess, with
me, that he feels a need of more ability, and fresh sup-
plies of grace, to enable him to make a better improve-
ment of what he has already received. If some, as
you suppose, in their dullest frames, can read the Bible,
go to the throne of grace, and mourn, (as they ought,)
over "what is ,'.:niss, I must say for myself, I can, and I
cannot. \\ ithout doubt 1 c<://? take the Bible in my
hand, and force myself to read it ; I can kneel down,
and I can =;ee I ought to mourn : but to understand
and attend to Mhat I read, to engage my heart in
prayer, or to be duly humbled under the sense of so
dark and dissipated a state of mind ; these things, at
some scaspns, I can no more do than I can raise the
Let. 37. On some Points of Christian Experience. 363
dead ; and yet I cannot plead positive inability. I am
satisfied that what prevents me is my sin, but it is the
sin of my nature, the sin that dwelleth in me. And I
expect it will be thus with me at times, in a greater or
less degree, till this body of sin shall be wholly des-
troyed. Yet I believe the Lord is with me, even
when he seems to be absent, otherwise my corruptions,
at such seasons, might easily prevail to betray me into
open or allowed sin, which, blessed be the grace and
care of mv good Shepherd, is not tlie case. I know not
if I rightly understand the expression, " We may hum-
" bly hope, that those things we fall into, which are not
*' in our power to prevent, will not be set to our ac-
" count." The least of the evils I feel, and which
seem most involuntary, if set to my account, would
ruin me ; and I trust, that even my worst deviations
shall not appear against me, because I am a believer
in Jesus : and I know, and am sure, that I do not wish
to continue in sin that grace may abound. My con-
science bears me witness, that I would not desire the
rule of duty to be narrowed, or accommodated to my
imperfections in a single instance. If the expression
only means, that these unavoidable effects of our evil
nature should not break our peace of conscience, or
discourage us in our approaches to God, I am of the
same mind ; through mercy I have seldom any more
doubt of my acceptance in the Beloved, Avhen in a dark
frame, than when I am most favoured with liberty.
IV. Whether true evangelical humility, and an en-
larged view of the grace of God in Christ triumphing
over all obstacles, be ordinarily attainable without an
experience of declensions, backslidings, and repeated
forgiveness? is the last question I shall consider. I
dare sav you will do me the justice to believe, that I
3G4 On some Points of Christian Experience, Let. 37.
would not advise any one to run into sin in order to get
a knowledge of his own heart: David broke his bones
thereby ; he obtained an affecting proof of his inability
of standing in his own strength, and of the skill and
goodness of his physician who healed him: yet no man
in his wits would break his bones for the sake of mak-
ing experiments, if he were ever so sure they would be
well set again. You think that a believer is never more
humble in his own eyes, or admires Jesus more, than
when he is filled with joy and peace ; I readily allow,
that the present impressions of divine love are hum-
bling; however, the direct tendency of gracious conso-
lations in themselves, is one thing; ^\hat evils they may
afterv/ards occasion through the desperate depravity of
our hearts, is another. We have a memorable case in
point to explain my meaning. The apostle Paul's re-
collection of his course while in a natural state, and the
singular manner of his conversion, were evidently suit-
ed to make him a humble Christian, and he was so. By
an especial favour of the Lord, he was afterwards taken
up into the third heaven ; what he saw or heard there
he has not told us, but surely he met with nothing tiiat
could have a tendency to make him proud ; doubtless
he saw Jesus in his glory, and the humble spiritual
worship of heaven ; a sight which we might deem suffi-
cient to make him walk in self-abasement all the days
of his life : but Paul, though an eminent saint, was still
liable to the effects of indwellincr sin ; he was in danger
of beinii exalted through the abundance of revelations,
and the Lord, his wise and gracious keeper, saw fit, in
order to prevent it, that a messenger from Satan should
be given him to buffet him. Pride is so subtle, that it
can gather strength even from those gracious manifesta-
tions which seem directly calculated to mortify it; so
Lei. 37. On some Fohits of C/iHstian Experiencr. 365
danoerous, that a messenger from Satan himself may be
esteemed a mercy, if over-ruled and sanctified by the
Lord to make or keep us more humble : therefore,
though we can never be too earnest in striving against
sin, too watchful in abstaining from all appearance of
evil, and though they who wait upon the Lord may
comfortably hope, that he w ill preserve them from such
things as would dishonour their profession in the sight
of men, yet I apprehend they who appear most to adorn
the Gospel in their outward conversation, are conscious
of many things between the Lord and their own souls,
which covers them with shame, and that his tenderness
and mercy to them, notwithstanding their perverseness,
constrains them with admiration to adopt the language
of Micah, " Who is a God like unto thee, that pardon-
" eth iniquity, and passeth by the transgression of the
*' remnant of his heritao;e r" and I believe likewise, that
without such striking and repeated proofs of what is in
their hearts, they would not so feelingly enter into the
spirit of Job's confession, " Behold, I am vile !"' nor
would they have such a lively sense of their obligations
to the merciful care and faithfulness of their great Shep-
herd, or of their entire and absolute dependence upon
him, for wisdom, righteousness, sanclification, and re-
demption : I find these considerations useful and neces-
sary to reconcile me to my lot. The Lord knows what
I need, and what I can bear : gladly would I receive,
earnestly would I desire, more of comforts while here ;
but if I mourn now, I hope to be comforted in heaven ;
in the mean time it is more immediately necessary for
me, both as a Christian and as a minister, that I should
be humbled : the Lord's Avill be done. I cannot pre-
tend to determine what ministers, or what body of peo-
ple, come nearest the character of the primitive time ;
S66 On Religion as iwcessliry Let. 38.
but in my judgment they are the happiest who have,
the lowest thoughts of themselves, and in whose eyes
Jesus is most glorious and precious.
I am, &c.
LETTER XXXVIII.
That Tnic Religion is necessary y in order to the best Enjoy-
ment of the Pleasures of the present Life.
To a gay Friend.
Dear Sir,
J. HOUGH I truly love you, and have no reason to
doubt of the reality of your friendship to me ; yet I can-
not but apprehend, that notwithstanding our mutual re-
gard, and my frequent attempts to be witty, (if I could,)
for your diversion, there is a something in most of my
letters, (which I cannot, dare not wholly suppress,) that
disgusts and wearies you, and makes you less inclined
to keep up a frequent intercourse, than you w^ould other-
wise be. Rather than lose you quite, I will in general
spare you as much as I can ; but at present you must
bear with me, and allow me full scope. You have
given mc a challenge, which 1 know not how to pass
over; and since you so far justify my preaching, as to
condescend to preach, (in your way,) yourself, permit
me for this time to preach again, and to take some pas-
sages in your letter for my text.
In the present debate I will accept your compliment,
and suppose myself to be, as you say, a man of sense.
You allow, then, that all the sense is not on your side.
Tliis, indeed, you cannot deny; for whatever becomes of
Let. 38. to the Enjoyments of IJfe. 367
me, it is needless to tell you, that Hale, Boyle, and other
great names I could mention, were men of as great pe-
netration and judgment, had as good opportunities, and
took as much pains to be informed of the truth, as any
of the advocates for infidelity can pretend to. And you
cannot, with any modesty or consistence, absolutely de-
termine, that they had not as good grounds for thinking
themselves right, as you can have for concluding they
were wrong.
But declining the advantage of human authority, I am
content the point should rest between you and me. And
here I beg you to observe, that I have one evident ad-
vantage over you in judging, namely, that I have expe-
rienced the good and evil on botli sides, and you only
on one. If you were to send me an inventory of your
pleasures, how charmingly your time runs on, and how
dexterously it is divided between the coffee-house, play-
house, the card-table, and tavern, with intervals of balls,
concerts, &c. ; I could answer, that most of these I have
tried and tried again, and know the utmost they can
yield, and have seen enough of the rest, most heartily to
despise them all. Setting religion entirely out of the
question, I profess I had rather be a worm to crawl upon
the ground than to bear the name of max, upon the poor
terms of whiling away my life in an unsipid round of
such insignificant and unmanly trifles. I will return
your own expression — I believe you to be a person of
sense ; but, alas ! how do you prostitute your talents
and capacity ; how far do you act below yourself, if you
know no higher purpose of life than these childish dissi-
pations, together with the more serious business of rising
early and sitting up late, to amass money, that you may
be able to enlarge your expenses ! I am sure, while I
lived in these things, I found them unsatisfying and
3GS On Religion as necessary Let. 38.
empty to the last degree ; and the only advantage they
afforded, (miserable are they who are forced to dean it
an advantage,) was, that they often relieved me from the
trouble and burden of thinking. If you have any other
pleasures than these, they are such as must be evil and
inconvenient, even upon your own plan ; and therefore
my friendship will not allow me to bring them into the
account. I am willing to hope you do not stoop still
lower in pursuit of satisfaction. Thus far we stand upon
even ground. You kmjw all that a life of pleasure can
give, and I know it likewise.
On the other hand, if I should attempt to explain to
you the source and streams of my best pleasures, such
as a comfortable assurance of the pardon of my sins, an
habitual communion uith the God who made heaven and
earth, a calm reliance on the Divine Providence, the
cheering prospect of a better life in a better world, v.ith
the pleasing foretastes of heaven in my own soul ; should
I, or could I, tell you the pleasure I often lind in reading
the Scripture, in the exercise of prayer, and in that sort
of preaching and conversation which you despise ; I dou bt
not but you would think as meanly of my happiness as I
do of yours. But here lies the difference, my dear friend,
you condemn that which you have never tried. You
knoAv no more of these things than a blind man does of
colours ; and, notwithstanding all your flourishes, I
defy you to be at all times able to satisfy yourself,
that things may not possibly be as I have represented
them.
Besides, what do I lose upon my plan, that should
make me so worthy of your pity ? Have you a quicker
relish in the prudent use of temporal comforts ? Do
you think I do not eat my food with as much pleasure
as you can do, though perhaps with less cost and variety?
Let. 38. to the Enjoyments of lift. 3G3
Is your sleep sounder than mine ? Have not I as much
satisfaction in social life ? It is true, to join much with
the gay fluttering tribe, who spend their days in laugh
and sing-song, is equally contrary to my duty and incli-
nation. But I have friends and acquaintance as well as
you. Among the many who favour me with their esteem
and friendship, there are some who are persons of sense,
learning, wit, and, (what perhaps may weigh as much with
you,) of fortune and distinction. And if you should say,
" Ay, but they are all enthusiasts like yourself," you
would say nothing to tli£ purpose; since upon your
maxim, that '"' happiness is according to opinion," it
cannot be an objection, but the contrary, to have my
acquaintance to my own taste. Thus much for the
briiihter side of your situation ; — or let me add one thing
more. I know you have thoughts of marriage : do you
think, if you should enter into this relation, your prin-
ciples are calculated to make you more happy in it than
I am ? You are well acquainted with our family-life.
Do you propose to know more of the peace and heart-
felt joy of domestic union than I have known, and con-
tinue to know to this hour ? I wish you may equal us;
and if you do, we shall still be as before, but upon even
ground. I need not turn Deist, to enjoy the best and
the most that this life can afford.
But I need not tell 3'ou, that the present life is not
made up of pleasurable incidents only. Pain, sickness,
losses, disappointments, injuries, and affronts with men,
will, more or less, at one time or other, be our lot. And
can you bear these trials better than I ? You will not
pretend to it. Let me appeal to yourself: Mow often
do you toss and disquiet yourself' like a wild bull in a
net, when things cross your expectations? As vour
thouirhts are more engrossed by what vou see, you
Vol. I. ' 3B "^
370 On Religion ns necessary^ S:c. Let. 38.
must be more keenly sensible of what you feel. You
cannot view these trials as appointed by a wise and
heavenly Father in subservience to your good; you can-
not taste the sweetness of his promises, nor feel the
secret supports of his strength, in an hour of affliction;
you cannot so cast your burden and care upon him, as
to find a sensible relief to your spirit thereby ; nor can
you see his hand engaged and employed in effecting
your deliverance. Of these things you know no more
than of the art of flying; but 1 seriously assure you,
and I believe my testimony will go further with you
than my judgment, that they are realities, and that I
have found them to be so. When my worldly con-
cerns have been most thorny and discouraging, I have
once and again felt the most of that peace which the
world can neither give nor take away. However, I
may state the case still lower. You do pretty well
among your friends ; but how do you like being alone ?
Would you not give something for that happy secret,
which could enable you to pass a rainy day pleasantly,
without the assistance of business, company, or amuse-
ment ? W ould it not mortify you greatly to travel for
a week in an unfrequented road, where you should meet
with no lively incidents to recruit and raise your spirits?
Alas ! what a poor scheme of pleasure is yours, that
will not support an interval of reflection !
W^hat you have heard is true; I have a few friends
who meet at my house once a fortnight, and we spend
an hour or two in worshipping the God who made us.
And can this move your indignation, or your compassion?
Does it show a much nobler spirit, a more refined way of
thinking, to live altogether without God in the world: If
I kept a card-assembly at those times, it would not dis-
please you. How can you, as a person of sense, avoid
Let. 39. A Ward in Season, 371
being shocked at your own unhappy prejudice? But I
remember how it was once with myself, and forbear
to wonder. May He who has opened my eyes, open
yours ! He only can do it. I do not expect to con-
vince you by any thing I can say as of myself; but if
he be pleased to make use of me as his instrument then
you will be convinced. Hovv should I then rejoice !
I should rejoice to be useful to any one, but especially
to you, whom I dearly love. ]\lay God show you your
true self, and your true state ; then you will attentively
listen to what you disdain to hear of, his goodness in
providing redemption and pardon for the chief of sin-
ners, through him who died upon the cross tor sins not
his own. Keep this letter by you at my request ; and
when you write, tell me that you receive it in good
part ; and that you still believe me to be, &c.
LETTER XXXIX.
A Word in Season.
Dear Sir,
XNthis dark and declining day, when iniquity abounds^
the awful tokens of God's displeasure are multiplying
around us, and too many professors, not duly sensible
of the real cause of all the evils we either feel, or have
reason to fear, are disputing, instead of praying ; may
the Lord bestow upon you and me, and upon all who
fear his name, a spirit suited to the times ! that the
words of David, " I beheld the transgressors, and was
" grieved," may express the very sensation and frame
of our hearts. Permit me to keep this expression in
372 A Iford in Season. Let. 39.
my vicAV, while I write, though it may j^erhaps give my
letter something of the air of a sermon.
The Hebrew word answering to " I was grieved,"
signifies such a kind of grief as is mixed with dislike ;
such a grief as a believer must feel w'hen he has a sense
of his own corruptions. It is frequently rendered, as
in Ezek. xx. 43. to loathe: ".You shall loathe yourselves
'' in your own sight." We are not required, strictly,
to hate ourselves, but the evil that is in us. So, when
we look at transgressors, we are not to hate, but to pity
them, mourn over them, and pray for them ; nor have
we any right to boast over them ; for, by nature, and of
ourselves, we are xo better than thej/. But their sin-
fulness should cause a dislike, an holy indignation : as
it is recorded of our Lord, who, though full of compas-
sion and tenderness, so that he wept over his enemies,
and prayed for his actual murderers, yet looked upon
transgressors with aus:e)\ being <j-rieTcd for the hard-
ness of their hearts.
A feeling of this kind seems essential to that new na-
ture which characterises the children of God ; and,
where it is not in habitual exercise, it is a sufficient
evidence, that the soul, if truly alive to God at all, is at
least in a lean and distempered state. Who can avoid
being grieved and hurt by that which is in direct oppo-
sition to what he most loves ? Believers love holi-
ness ; and, unless when stupified by the arts of Satan,
can hardly bear themselves for what they find contrary
to it within their own breasts ; and must, therefore, of
course, be grieved with the sins of others. Like right-
eous Lot, and from his principles they are " vexed
" with the conversation of the wicked." Can they who
reverence the name of God be easy and unconcerned
when they hear it blasphemed ? No ; their cars are
Lcl. oO. A Word in Season. 373
wounded, and their hearts are pained. Can they who
are followers of peace and purity, behold, unmoved, the
riots, licentiousness, and daring wickedness, of those
M ho have cast off both shame and fear ? Can they who
have bowels of mercy and compassion, be unaffected
when they see the iron hand of oppression grinding the
faces of the poor? Or can any who love the songs of
Zion, help being shocked with the songs of drunkards?
I trust there are many, who, upon these accounts, are
daily crying, " My soul is among lions :" " Wo is me
" that I dwell in Mesech !" " O gather not m^ soul
" with sinners." The thought of being shut up for ever
with the ungodly would be terrible as hell to a gracious
soul, though there were no devouring fire, no keen
sense of the wrath of God, to be feared.
They are grieved likewise upon their Lord's account ;
for they have obtained a spark of zeal for his honour
and glory. With Elijah, they are " very jealous for
" the Lord of hosts." They feci their obligations to him,
and know he well deserves to reign in every heart. But
when, on the contrary, they see almost every one in a
conspiracy against him, despising him to his face, tram-
pling upon his laws-, rejecting his authority, and abusing
his patience ; their eyes affect their hearts. What man
of sensibility could brook to see every one about him
contriving how to affront and injure the person whom
he most loved ? Now the Lord is the believer's best
friend, the beloved of his soul : and therefore he is
gricred and troubled when he " beholds the trans-
" gressors."
This emotion is likewise heightened by compassion
to souls. Grace gives some view of the evil of sin, the
dreadfulness of the wrath of God, and the vast impor-*
tanceofthat v^ord etf.rxitv. Thus instructed in the
374 A Word in Season. Let. 3?.
sanctuary of God, they would be stocks and stones, were
they capable of beholding sinners rushing; upon destruc-
tion, without being grieved for them. But they cannot
bear it. They cannot but give and repeat a faithful
warning, though they have little reason to expect any
better return than scorn and ill treatment, for what the
world accounts an impertinent officiousness.
But who then are believers? Who are thus " on the
" Lord's side ?" If these sentiments are common and
radical to all who are born of God, can we make no
abatement ? or must we unchristian perhaps the greater
part of professors at this time ? for it is too evident,
that many who bear the name of Gospel-professors,
discover but little of this concern. In general, I think,
this subject affords no improper test for the trial of our
spirits. The effects of grace, in similar circumstances,
are uniform ; but if any, Avho think themselves pos-
sessors of it, feel no grief for the aboundings of sin, and
the obstinacy of sinners, they differ from the saints re-
corded both in the Old and New Testament ; and it
will be their wisdom to examine and take heed lest they
be deceived. It is easy to call Christ, Lord, Lord ;
but a criminal lukewarmness of spirit, where his cause,
honour, and Gospel are in question, will one day meet
with an awful rebuke, and be treated, in those who
make mention of his name, as high treason against his
person and government.
But if we allow, that, through the contagion of the
times, and the power of Satan, it is possible for true
Christians to sink into this indifference, and for the wise
as well as the foolish virgins to sleep, when they should
be watching unto prayer ; even tliese have much to fear,
lest they should largely participate in the sufferings
which the provocations they connive at have a direct
Let. 39. A Word in Seaso?i. 375
tendency to bring upon a sinful people. When na-
tional sins draw down national judgments, the Lord
has given us a hope, that he will fix a mark oi protec-
tion upon them Avho sigh and mourn in secret before
him, for the evils which they are unable to prevent. To
these he will be a sanctuary ; he will either preserve
them unhurt, in the midst of surrounding calamities, or
he will support them with consolations superior to all
their troubles, when the hearts of others are shaken like
leaves in a storm. But none have reason to expect to
be thus privileged, who have not a heart given them to
tamznt their own sins, and the sins of those among
whom they live.
Surely the Lord has a controversy with this land ; and
there hardly can a period be assigned in the annals of
ages, when it was more expedient, or seasonable for
those who fear him, to stir up each other to humiliation
and prayer, than at present. What is commonly called
our national debt, is swelled to an enormous greatness.
It may be quickly expressed in figures ; but a person
must be something versed in calculation, to form a to-
lerable idea of accumulated millions. But what arith-
metic is sufficient to compute the immensity of our na-
tional debt in 'd spiritual sense? or, in other words, the
amount of our national sins ? The spirit of infidelity,
•which for a time distinguished, comparatively, a few,
and, like a river, was restrained within narrow bounds,
has of late years broken down its banks, and deluged
the land. This wide-spreading evil has, in innumera-
ble instances, as might be expected, emboldened the
natural heart against the fear of God, hardened it to an
insensibility of moral obligation, and strengthened its
prejudices against the Gospel. The consequence has
been, that profligate wickedness has become almost as
37G A Word in Season. Let. 39»
universal as the air we breathe ; and is practised with
little more reserve or secrecy than the transactions of
common business, except in such instances as would
subject the offender to the penalty of human laws. O
the unspeakable patience of God ! The multiplied in-
stances of impiety, blasphemy, cruelty, adultery, vil-
lany, and abominations, not to be thought of without
horror, under which this land groans, are only known
to him who knoweth all things. There are few sins
which imply greater contempt of God, or a more ob-
durate state of mind in the offender, than perjury ; yet
the guilt of it is so little regarded, and temptations to it
so very frequent, that perhaps I do not go too far in
supposing, there are more deliberate acts of perjury
committed amongst us, than among all the rest of man-
kind taken together. Though some of the Roman poets
and historians have given very dark pictures of the times
they lived in, their worst descriptions of this kind would
hardly be found exaggerated, if applied to our own. —
But what are the sins of Heathens, if compared with
the like evils, perpetrated in a land bearing the name
of Christian, favoured with the word of God, the light
of the Gospel, and enjoying the blessings of civil and
religious liberty and peace, in a higher degree, and for
a longer continuance, than was afforded to any people
of whose history we have heard ?
The state of the churches of Christ at this time af-
fords likewise ample cause for humiliation and grief.
The formality, conformity to the world, the want of
love, the intemperate and unprofitable contentions,
w hich prevail among us, show how faintly the power of
the Gospel is felt, even by many who profess to have
embraced it. The true and undeliled doctrine of Jesus
is not only opposed by its declared enemies, but icoiuuled
Let. 39. A Word m Season. 377
and dishonoured m the house of its friends. And though
the sins of those who avow subjection to the institutions
of Christ, may not have so gross a stamp of profligacy
and immorality, as of those who set him openly at de-
fiance ; yet tiiey have, in some respects, an aggravation,
of which the others are not capable ; as being commit-
ted against clearer light, and peculiar acknowledged ob-
ligations. From the consideration of both taken together,
who, that has a spark of seriousness and attention, and
that has learned from Scripture and history the sure
connexion between sin and trouble, can forbear trem-
bling at that alarming question, so often proposed to
the consciences of ungrateful Israel of old, " Shall not
" I VISIT for these thinQ;s? saith the Lord : and shall
" not my soul be avenged on such a nation as this?"
Especially when we see the dispensations of God's pro-
vidence so a\\ fully corresponding with the threatenings
in his word.
How much is it to be desired, then, that all who truly
fear the Lord, instead of wasting their time in useless
squabbles, may unite in earnest j&r^'j/er; and, with deep
compunction of heart, bemoan those evils w-hich, unless
repented of and forsaken, may bring upon us, as a peo-
ple, such distress as neither we nor our fathers have
known ! If he is pleased thus to give us a heart to
seek him, he will yet be found of us ; but if, when his
hand is lifted up, we cannot or will not see, nor regard
the signs of the times, there is great reason to fear that
our case is deplorable indeed.
A few, however, there will be, who will lay these
things suitably to heart ; and whom the Lord will fa-
vour and spare, as a man spareth his only son that
serveth him. That you and I may be of this happv
number, is the sincere prayer of, Sec. ^
\'0L. L 3 C
378 To Professors in Trade. Let. 40.
LETTER XL.
A Word to Pi'ofessors in Trade,
Dear Sir,
jLT is suspected, (or rather it is too certainl}^ known,)
that among those who are deemed Gospel-professors,
there are some persons who allow themselves in the
practice of dealing in prohibited, uncustomed, or, (as the
common phrase is,) snniggled goods, to the prejudice
of the public revenue, and the detriment of the fair tra-
der.
The decisions of the word of God, upon this point,
are so plain and determinate, that it is rather difficult
to conceive how a sincere mind can either overlook or
mistake them. The same authority which forbids us to
con\m\\. adultery , ox 7niirdei\Ye(\\\\vt^ us to "render unto
" Ccesar the things that are Caesar's;" to render unto
all their dues, tribute to whom tribute, custom to w^hom
custom. These precepts enjoin no more than what the
common sense of mankind pronounces to be due from
subjects and members of society, to the governments
they live under, and by which they are protected. But
the obligation is greatly enforced upon those who ac-
knowledge themselves the disciples of Christ, since he
has been pleased to make their compliance herein a part
of the obedience they owe to himself. And it is plain,
that tnese injunctions areuniversal and binding, under all
civil governments, as such; fornonecan justly suppose,
that tributes exacted by the Roman emperors, (under
whose dominion the first Christians lived,) such as Tibe-
Let. 40. To Professors in Trade. 379
rius or Nero, had the sanction of our Lord and his
apostles on account of their peculiar equity.
The vending smuggled goods, or the buying them, if
known to be so, is likewise injurious to the fair trader,
Avho, conscientiously paying the prescribed duties, can-
not afford to sell so cheap as the smuggler ; and therefore
must expect the fewer customers. In this view, it of-
fends the royal law, of " doing to others as we would
" they should do unto us." The force of this argument
may be easily felt by any one who will honestly make
the case his own. Without any nice reasoning, people
may know in a moment, that they should not like to be
put to this disadvantage. It is therefore unjust (i, e.
sinful, and utterly unbecoming a professor of religion,)
to purchase smuggled goods, even in small quantities
and for family- use. As for those who, being in trade
themselves, make this practice a branch of their business,
and, under the semblance of a fair reputation, are doing
things in secret which they would tremble to have dis-
covered, being afraid of the exchequer, though not of
God ; — I can only pray, that God may give them re-
])entance ; for it is a work of darkness, and needs it.
Transactions of this kind cannot be carried on for a
course of time without such a series and complication
of fraud and meanness *', and for the most part of per-
jury likewise, as would be scandalous, not only in a pro-
fessed Christian, but in an avowed infidel.
It should be observed likewise, that there is hardly
any set of men more lost to society, or in a situation
more dangerous to themselves and others, than the peo-
ple who are called smugglers. Frequent fightings, and
• Dr. Johnson, defininjj a smuggler, says, he Is " a ^uiretch who imports
*' or exports goods without payment of the customs."
380 To Professors in Trade. Let. 40.
sometimes murder itself, are the consequence of their
ilHcit commerce. Their money is ill gotten, and it is ge-
nerally ill spent. They are greatly to be pitied. The
employment they are accustomed to has a direct ten-
dency to deprive them of character, and the privileges
of social life, and to harden their hearts and stupify
their consciences, in the ways of sin. But for whom
are they risking their lives, and ruining their souls ? I
would hope, reader, not for you, if you account your-
self a Christian. If you, for the sake of gain, encourage
and assist them, by buying or selling their goods, you are
so far responsible for the consequences. You encour-
age them in sin ; you expose them to mischief. And
have you so learned Christ? Is this the testimony you
give of the uprightness of your hearts and ways ? Is it
thus you show your compassion for the souls of men?
Ah ! shake your hands from gain so dearly earned. —
Think not to support the cause of God with such gain :
he hates robbery for burnt-offering. Think it not law-
ful, or safe, to put a farthing of it into your treasury, lest
it secretly communicate a moth and a curse to all that
you possess ; for it is the price of blood, the blood of
souls. If you are indeed a child of God, and will persist
in this path after admonition received, be assured your
sin will find you out If the Lord loves you he will not
suffer you to prosper in your perverseness. You may
rather expect, that as a little damaged corn is sufficient
to spoil the whole heap to which it is laid, so money thus
obtained will deprive you of the blessing and comfort
you might otherwise expect from your lawful acquisi-
tions.
If you are determined to persist, in opposition to Scrip-
ture, to law, to equity and humanity, you have doubt-
less, as I suppose ;you a professor, some plea or excuse
Let. 40. To Professors in Trade. 38 J
^vith wliicli you attempt to justify yourself, and to keep
your conscience quiet. See to it, that it be such a one
as will bear the examination of a dying hour. You will
not surely plead, that " things are come to such a pass,
'' there is no carrving; on business upon other terms to
" advantaife !" Will the practice of the world, who
know not Christ, be a proper precedent for you, who
call yourself by his name ? That cannot be, since his
command is, " Thou shalt not follow a multitude to
" do evil/' That the truth and power of his grace
may be manifested, he is pleased to put his servants
into such situations, that they must forego some seem-
ing advantages, and suffer some seeming hardships, in
their worldly connexions, if they will approve them-
selves faithful to him, and live in the exercise of a good
conscience. lie promises, that his grace shall be suffi-
cient for them. It is the l/lessiug of the Lord that
maketh j^ich ; and, for want of this, we see many rise
early, take late rest, and eat the bread of carefulness,
to no purpose. And I believe, integrity and diligence
in business, with a humble dependence upon his Provi-
den(!e, are the best methods of thriving even in tem-
porals. However, they who lose for him are in no
danger of losing hy him. They may be confident of so
much as he sees best for them ; and they shall have his
peace and blessing with it. But if, when you are placed
in a state of trial, the love of the world is so powerful
in your heart, that you cannot resist the temptation of
enriching yourself by unlawful means, you liave great
reason to fear you have not his Spirit, and are there-
fore none of his.
I am, &c.
382 On the Mlmstrjj of Angels. Let. 41.
LETTER XLI.
On the Ministry of Angels.
Dear Sir,
T
HE saints on earth, though exposed to many suffer-
ings, and assaulted by many enemies, are as safe as the
saints in glory. They have been enabled, in the day of
God's power, to commit themselves to the care of
Jesus, the great shepherd ; who is faithful to his trust,
and able to save them to the uttermost. His eye is al-
ways upon them ; his everlasting arms are underneath
them ; and no power, or policy, can separate them
from his love.
The apostle, in the name and behalf of the church
militant, having taken a leisurely and distinct survey of
all the difficulties and opposition they can possibly meet
with, in life or in death, from the visible or invisible
worlds ; triumphs in an assurance, that none of these
things singly^ nor all of them together, shall prevail ;
but that, on the contrary, believers shall be made con-
querors, yea, more than conquerors, through Him who
has loved them.
In the course of his enumeration of the real or sup-
posed dangers to which the people of Christ are ex-
posed, he ])articularly mentions, angels, principalities,
and powers ; intimating to us a subject of great impor-
tance, though too seldom and too faintly attended to by
us ; I mean the part which the inhabitants of the unseen
world take in our concerns. Angels is a general name ;
the terms pri72cipalities and pozi'ers,ixnd elsewhere thi^ones
and dominions, applied to them, we shall not perhaps
I»et. 41. On the Ministry of Angels. 383
clearly understand, till we mingle with the world of
spirits. These different names seem, however, to imply,
that some difference of degree, and possibly some sub-
ordination of rule, obtains among them. But they shall
not be able, either singly or collectively, to separate be-
lievers from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus.
The general distribution of angels, principalities, and
powers, is into good and evil. They were all created
glorious and excellent creatures ; for nothing but good
could originally proceed from God, the fountain of
goodness. But some of them " kept not their first
" estate." Sin despoiled them of their glory, and
changed them from angels of light into powers of dark-
ness. And though they have a permissive liberty, sub-
servient to the limitations and designs of divine wisdom,
to influence the minds, and to interfere in the affair Sj of
mankind ; yet they are confined in chains of darkness
which they cannot break, and are reserved to the judg-
ment of the great day.
There are likewise an innumerable company of elect
or good angels, Rev. iii. 1 1 . who were preserved by
sovereign grace, and are now established, (together with
believers,) in Christ Jesus, the great Head of the
whole family of God, in heaven and in earth. From
these, we may be sure, believers have nothing to fear.
They are our brethren diudi fellow-servants. They join
in the song of the redeemed before the throne ; and re-
joice in the conversion of a sinner upon earth. We
cannot include these in the apostle's challenge, any fur-
ther than by way of supposition ; as he expresses him-
self upon another occasion, Gal. i. 8. It is not possi-
ble that an an2;el from heaven should preach, if he came
to preach, any other Gospel than that which is revealed
in Scripture; but if such a thing could be supposed, we
384 0)1 the Mimst)^j of Angels. Let. 41.
ought not to regard him. So it is not to be thought
that the elect angels of God should wish to hinder the
salvation of a sinner. But if you conceive, for a mo-
ment, that any or all of them could form such a design,
they would not be able to succeed : for they are all
subject to " HIM who loved us, and washed us from
''■ our sins in his own blood." So far, however, are the
holy angels from designing us harm, that they are
greatly instrumental in promoting our good. They are
" ministering spirits, sent forth to minister to the heirs
" of salvation ;" and they rejoice in the service, and ac-
count it their honour to be thus employed.
I propose, in this paper, briefly to consider the mi-
nistry of GOOD angels ; and may perhaps hereafter offer
a few thoughts on the influence and interference of evil
angels, who are continually labouring to disturb and
trouble those whom they are not permitted to destroy.
J\nd I shall not attempt to amuse the reader with new
and strange conjectures upon these subjects, or to in-
trude into those things which are not revealed, but
shall confine myself to the express declarations of the
word of God.
The great God icorks all m all in both worlds.
It is he who filleth the earth with good things, causes
the grass to grow for the cattle, and provides corn for
the food of man. But in thus spreading a table for us,
he makes use oiinstjmments. He commands his sun to
shine, and his rain to descend. So he is the life, strength,
and comfort, of the renewed soul. All the streams of
grace flow from Christ, the fountain. But, from the
analogy observable in his works, we might reasonably
suppose, that, on many occasions, he is pleased to use
means and instruments, and particularly the ministry of
his angels, to communicate good to his children. Scrip-
Let. 41. On the Mijiistn/ of Angels. 385
ture expressly confirms this inference, and leaves it no
longer a point of mere conjecture. He gives his angels
charge over tliem, and they encamp round about them
that fear him. In this \va\' honour is given to Jesus,
as the Lord both of angels and men ; and a sweet inter-
course is kept up between tlie different parts of the
household of God. That angels have been thus em-
ployed in fact, is plain from the history both of the
Old and New Testament. They have often made
themselves risible, when sent to declare the will of
God, as to Jacob, Elijah, and David. Gabriel ap-
peared to Zacharias and Mary ; and a multitude joined
in ascribinii " glory to God in the highest," when they
brought to the shepherds the jovful news of a Saviour's
birth. An angel delivered Peter from prison, and com-
forted Paul when tossed by a tempest upon the seas.
How far the sensible ministration of angels is continued
in these days, is not easy to determine. ]\Iany persons
have been imposed upon by Satan, through such ex-
pectations ; and it is not safe to look for extraordinary
thino-s : vet I do not know that we have warrant from
Scripture to limit the Lord, so far as to affirm, that he
dolh not, nor ever will, upon any occasion permit his
angels to be seen by men, as in former times. The
apostle, pressing believers to exercise hospitality, uses
this argument, that, " thereby some have entertained
" angels unawares ;" which would hardly seem to be a
pertinent motive, if it were absolutely certain that angels
would never offer themselves as visitants to the servants
of God in future times, as they had formerly done.— -
But, waving speculations as to their visible appearance,
it is sufficient to know, that they are really, though in-
visibly, near us, and mindful of us.
May we not receive assistance from the ansels in oin
Vol. L 3D
386 On the Ministry of Angels. Let. 41.
spiritual warfare ? That evil angels have an influence
and power to distress and disquiet us, is well known to
exercised souls. And it seems quite reasonable to be-
lieve, that the good angels are as willing, and as able, to
communicate helpful and encouraging impressions. As
it is not ahvays easy to distinguish between the tempta-
tions of Satan and the workings of our own evil hearts ;
so it may be equally or more difficult to distinguish these
assistances from the effects of gracious principles abid-
ing in us, or from the leadings and motions of the Holy
Spirit. Nor need we be anxious about it. We can-
not err in ascribing all to the Lord. Yet there is some-
thing cheering in the thought, that we are accompanied
and surrounded by these blessed spirits, who have both
inclination and ability to relieve, strengthen, and ad-
monish us, in ways v.hich we cannot fully understand.
Who can tell how often, and how seasonably, a promise,
a caution, a direction from, or agreeable to the word of
God, is darted upon our minds by these kind messen-
gers of our Father's love ?
We may warrantably think, they are employed in re-
straining, over-ruling, and controlling, the designs of
Satan and his angels. The power, malice, and subtlety
of our enemy, are very great. We may learn what he
would do to us all, if he could, from the instance of Job.
But the Lord rebukes him, and that most probably by
the ministry of unfallen angels, m ho are said to encamp
round his people, to deliver them ; and doubtless their
care is especially employed where the greatest danger lies.
IMuch to this purpose seems to be implied in the follow-
ing passages, Dan. x. 13. Rev. xii. 7. Jude 9-
They are witnesses to the sufferings and to the wor-
ship of his people, 1 Cor. iv. 9- Though they do not
fihow themselves to us, as heretofore to Peter or Paul.
Let. 41. On the Minisinj of Angela. 387
they are still near, and attentive ; are interested in the
conflicts, and rejoice in the victories, of a poor believer.
They are present likewise in our solemn assemblies ;
therefore the apostle charges Timothy, as " before the
" elect angels ;" and seems to refer to them in 1 Cor.
xi. 10. This reflection should enliven and regulate our
thoughts \\ hen we come together : for though the pre-
sence of our Lord and Saviour is the great considera-
tion, yet this likewise may, in -its proper place, have
some influence to compose our behaviour, Ilcb. xii. ^£'.
The ministry of angels preserves us from innumera-
ble dangers and alarms w hich await us in our daily path.
This is expressly taught in Psalm xci. When we receive
little or no harm from a fall, or w hen a sudden motion
of our minds leads us to avoid a danger which we were
not aware of, perhaps the angels of God have been the
means of our preservation ; nay, it may be ow ing to their
good ofiices that we ever perform a journey in safety or
are preserved from the evils we are liable to when sleep-
ing upon our beds, and incapable of taking any care of
ourselves.
Finally, they are appointed to attend the saints in their
last hours ; and, in a manner beyond our present appre-
hension, to keep otf the powers of darkness, and bear
the children of God safely home to their Father's house,
Luke xvi. 9M.
The limits of a sheet will not admit of enlargement
upon these particulars. The subject is pleasing and
comfortable, and well suited to encourage believers
under two very common trials. ^
L We are often cast down to think how few there are
w^ho worship (lod in spirit and in truth ; and are ready
to complain, with Elijah, that we are almost left to serve
him alone. But Jesus is not slighted and despised ift
388 Onthe Minhlr}) of Angch. Let. 41.
yonder world as he is in this. If, like the servant of
Elisha, our eyes were supernaturally opened, to take
a glance within the vail, what a glorious and astonishing
prospect would the innumerable host of angels afford us!
Then we should be convinced, that, far from being alone,
there are unspeakably more for us than against us. Faith
supplies the want of sight ; is the evidence of things
not seen ; and, upon the authority of the word of God,
is as well satisfied of their existence and employment,
as if they weie actually in our view.
Again, 2. ]\fany of the Lord's people are tempted
to think themselves neglected by their fellow Christians,
because they are poor: a discouragement for which there
is often too much occasion given. But, poor believer,
be not greatly distressed upon this account. If your
brethren upon earth are too prone to slight you, your
heavenly friends are not so proud and foolish. The
angels will attend and assist you, though you live in a
poor mud-walled cottage, as willingly as if you were
lodged in the palace of a king. They are not affected,
one way or the other, Avith those trivial distinctions
which are so apt to bias the judgment and regard of
mortals.
]\Iay we take a pattern from the angels! Their whole
desire is, to fulfil the will of God; and they account no
service mean in which he is pleased to employ them ;
otherwise, great and holy as they are, they might disdain
to wait upon sinful worms. Our vanity prompts us to
aim at something great, and to wish for such services
as might make us known, talked of, and regarded. J]ut
a child of God, if in the way of duty, and in the place
which the Lord's providence has allotted him, is well em-
ployed, though he should have no higher service than to
sweep the streets ; provided he does it humbly, thank-
Let. 41. On the Ministnj of Angels. 389
fully, and heartily, as to the Lord. An angel, so pla-
ced, could do no more.
This paper will doubtlessly fall into the hands of some
who are not believers, but are spending their days in sin.
\\\\h a word to such as these, I would conclude. To
you this is but a dark subject. You have reason to be
alarmed : for, be assured, the whole host of heaven is
against you, while they consider you in a state of re-
bellion against their Lord. They burn with an holy
zeal to avenge his cause ; and only wait his command to
smite you, as one of them smote Herod, for )wt giving
glory to God. Pray for faith and repentance. If you
believe in Jesus, and turn from your evil ways, the an-
gels will love you, rejoice over you, watch over you,
fight for you, and at last convey you into his glorious
presence.
I am, &c.
March 5, 1777-
CARBIFHONIA
THE UTTERANCE OF THE HEART,
IN THE COURSE OF
A REAL CORRESPONDENXE.
c«<<»-f^<^
Haec res et jungit, junctos et servat amicos.
HoR. Lib. i. Sat. 3,
As in water face answereth to face, so the heart of man to man.
Prov. xxvii. 19.
ADVERTISEMENT.
J. HE deference due to the Public seems to require an apology
for committing letters of private correspondence to the press, while
the writer is yet living. He is sensible that sending them abroad
■without his name prefixed, will not of itself be sufficient to obviate
the charge of egotism. The manner of expression and thinking,
•^'here an author has been repeatedly in print, will mark him out
to good judges when they see him again, so as to render any fur-
ther description unnecessary.
The solicitation of friends, though a trite, is not always an im-
proper plea, and would probably in the present case be admitted,
if he had not determined to conceal the names of his correspond-
ents likewise, and to suppress, as far as possible, every circum-
stance which might lead to discover them. For they certainly did
recommend the publication, and return him their letters purpose-
ly that a selection might be made. But as he does not think him-
self at liberty to declare them, he must forego the advantage of
screening himself under the sanction of their judgment.
Posthumous letters are usually published to disadvantage. If it
be supposed that the author has friends whose regard to his mem-
ory will make them willing to purchase what appears under his
name, that circumstance has sometimes given occasion to an in-
discriminate and injudicious publication of letters collected from
all quarters, in which more attention is paid to the bulk than the
value. For amongst a number of letters written to intimate friends,
some will be too trivial to deserve notice, and others may be so in-
termingled with details of private or domestic concerns, as perhaps
Vol. I. f? E
ADVERTISEMENT.
to give pain to those who are interested in them, when they sec
them in print. The writer of the following letters thought him-
self more competent to decide at present, which and how much of
the papers before him might be not utterly unworthy of being pre-
served, than a stranger could be after his decease.
Further, he finds that between an increase of engagements on the
one hand, and the unavoidable effects of advancing years on the
other, he can expect but little leisure or ability for writing letters
in future, except upon necessary business. By this method of send-
ing to each of his correspondents many letters at once, he takes
leave of them with the less regret, persuaded that he thus commu-
nicates the substance of all he could offer, if he was able to write
to them severally as often and as much at large as in times past.
Though some attention has been paid to variety, it was not prac-
ticable wholly to avoid what may be thought repetition, without de-
stroying the texture and connexion of many letters ; particularly
in those which treat of affliction. But where the same subject re-
curs, it is usually placed in something of a different point of view,
or illustrated in a different manner.
Thus much to bespeak the reader's favourable and candid peru-
sal of what is now put into his hands. But the writer stands before
a higher tribunal ; and would be much to be pitied, if lie were not
conscious, that in this publication he has no allowed aims, but to be
subservient to the gracious designs of God by the Gospel, and to
promote the good of his fellow-creatures.
A'bvemher 29, 1780.
TWENTY»SIX JLETTERS
TO
A NOBLEMAN.
LETTER I.
My Lord, March— 1765.
REIMEMBER, when I once had the pleasure of
waiting on you, you were pleased to begin an interesting
conversation, v/hich, to my concern, was interrupted.
The subject was concerning the causes, nature, and
marks of a decline in grace ; how it happens that we
lose that warm impression of divine things, which in
some favcjred moments we think it almost impossible
to forget; how far this change of frame is consistent with
a spiritual growth in other respects; how to form a com-
parative judgment of our proficiency upon the whole ;
and by what steps the losses we sustain from our neces-
sary connexion with a sinful nature and a sinful world,
may be retrieved from time to time. I beg your Lord-
ship's permission to fill up the paper with a view to
these inquiries. I do not mean to offer a laboured
essay on them, but such thoughts as shall occur while
the pen is in my hand.
The awakened soul, (especially when, after a season
of distress and terror, it begins to taste that the Lord is
gracious,) finds itself as in a new w-orld. No change in
outward life can be so sensible, so affecting. No won-
der, then, that at such a time little else can be thought
of; the transition from darkness to light, from a sense
of wrath to a hope of glory, is the greatest that can be
imagined, and is oftentimes as sudden as wonderful.
394 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 1.
Hence the general characteristics of young converts are
zeal and love. Like Israel at the Red Sea, they have
just seen the wonderful works of the Lord, and they
cannot but sing his praise ; they are deeply affected
with the danger they have lately escaped, and with the
case of multitudes around them, who are secure and
careless in the same alarming situation ! and a sense of
their own mercies, and a compassion for the souls of
others, is so transporting that they can hardly forbear
preaching to every one they meet.
This emotion is highly just and reasonable, with re-
spect to the causes from whence it springs ; and it is
doubtless a proof, not only of the imperfection, but the
depravity of our nature, that we are not always thus af-
fected ; yet it is not entirely genuine. If we examine
this character closely, which seems at first sight a pattern
and a reproof to Christians of longer standing, we shall for
the most part find it attended with considerable defects.
1. Such persons are very weak in faith. Their con-
fidence arises rather from the lively impressions of joy
•within, than from a distinct and clear apprehension of
the work of God in Christ. The comforts which are in-
tended as cordials to animate them against the opposi-
tion of an unbelieving world, they mistake and rest in
as the proptr evidences of their hope. And hence it
comes to pass, that when the Lord varies his dispensa-
tions, and hides his face, they are soon troubled and at
their w it's end.
2. They who are in this state of their first love, are
seldom free from something ot a censorious spirit. They
have not yet felt all thedeceitfulness of their own hearts ;
they are not well acquainted with the devices or temp-
tations of Satan; and therefore know not how to sym-
pathize or make allowances, where allowances are nc-
Let. 1. Letters to a Nobleman. . 395
cessary and due, and can hardly bear with any who do
not discover the same earnestness as themselves.
3. They are likewise, more or less under the influence
of self- righteousness and self-will. They mean well ;
but not being as yet well acquainted with the spiritual
meaning and proper use of the law, nor established in
the life of faith, a part, (oftentimes a very considerable
part,) of their zeal spends itself in externals and non-
essentials, prompts them to practise what is not com-
manded, to refrain from what is lawful, and to observe
various and needless austerities and singularities, as their
tempers and circumstances differ.
However, with all their faults, methinks there is some-
thing very beautiful and engaging in the honest vehe-
mence of a young convert Some cold and rigid judges
are ready to reject these promising appearances on ac-
count of incidental blemishes. But would a gardener
throw away a fine nectarine, because it is green, and
has not yet attained all that beauty and flavour which a
few more showers and suns will impart? Perhaps it will
hold for the most part in grace as in nature, (some ex-
ceptions there are,) if there is not some Jire in youth,
we can hardly expect a proper warmth in old age.
But the great and good Husbandman watches over
what his own hand has planted, and carries on his work
by a variety of ditTerent and even contrary dispensa-
tions. While their mountain stands thus strong, they
think they shall never be moved; but at length they
find a change. Sometimes it comes on by insensible
degrees. That part of their affection which was purely
natural, will abate of course when the power of novelty
ceases : they w ill begin, in some instances, to perceive
their own indiscretions ; and an endeavour to correct
the excesses of an imprudent zeal will often draw thcra
396 Letters to « Nobleman. Let. 1.
towards the contrary extreme of remissness : the evils
of their hearts, which, though overpowered, were not
eradicated, will revive again : the enemy will watch his
occasions to meet them with suitable temptations ; and
as it is the Lord's design that they should experiment-
ally learn and feel their own weakness, he will in some
instances be permitted to succeed. When guilt is thus
brought upon the conscience, the heart grows hard, the
hands feeble, and the knees weak; then confidence is
shaken, the spirit of prayer interrupted, the armour gone,
and thus things grow worse and worse, till the Lord is
pleased to interpose: for though we can fall of ourselves,
we cannot rise without his help. Indeed every sin, in
its own nature, has a tendency towards a final apostacy;
but there is a provision in the covenant of grace, and the
Lord, in his own time, returns to convince, humble,
pardon, comfort, and renew the soul. He touches the
rock, and the waters flow. By repeated experiments
and exercises of this sort, (for this wisdom is seldom ac
quired by one or a icw lessons,) we begin at length to
learn that we are nothing, have nothing, can do nothing
but sin. And thus we are gradually prepared to live
more out of ourselves, and to derive all our sufficiency
of every kind from Jesus, the fountain of grace. We
learn to tread more warily, to trust less to our oavu
strength, to have lower thoughts of ourselves, and higher
thoughts oihim: in which two last particulars, I appre-
hend what the Scripture means by a growth of grace
does properly consist. Both are increasing in the lively
Christian ; — every day shows him more of his own heart,
and more of the power, sufficiency, compassion, and
grace of his adorable Redeemer ; but neither will be
complete till we get to heaven.
I apprehend, therefore, that though we find an abate-
Let. 1, Letters to a Nobleman. 397
ment of that sensible warmth of affection whicli we felt
at fust setting out ; yet if our views are more evange-
lical, our judgment more ripened, our hearts more ha-
bitually humbled under a sense of inward depravity,
our tempers more softened into sympathy and tender-
ness ; if our prevailing desires are spiritual, and we
practically esteem the precepts, ordinances, and people
of God ; we may warrantably conclude, that his good
work of grace in us is, upon the whole, on an increase.
But still it is to be lamented, that an increase of
knowledge and experience should be so generally at-
tended with a decline of fervour. If it was not for
what has passed in my own heart, I should be ready to
think it impossible. But this very circumstance gives
me a still more emphatical conviction of my own vile-
ness and depravity. The want of humiliation humbles
me, and my very indifference rouses and awakens me
to earnestness. There are, however, seasons of re-
freshment, ineffable glances of light and power upon
the soul, which,as they are derived from clearer displays
of divine grace, if not so tumultuous as the first joys,
are more penetrating, transforming, and animating. A
glance of these, when compared with our sluggish stu-
pidity when they are withheld, weans the heart fi'om
this wretched state of sin and temptation, and makes
the thoughts of death and eternity desirable. Then this
conflict shall cease ; I shall sin and wander no more,
see him as he is, and be like him for ever.
If the question is. How are these bright moments to
be prolonged, renewed, or retrieved r we are directed
to faith and diligence. A careful use of the appointed
means of grace, a watchful endeavour to avoid the oc-
casions and appearances of evil, and especially assiduity
in secret prayer, will bring us as much of them as the
398 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 2;
Lord sees good for us. He knows best why we are not
to be trusted with them continually. Here we are to
walk by faith, to be exercised and tried ; by and by we
shall be crowned, and the desires he has given shall be
abundantly satisfied.
I am, &c.
LETTER n.
My Lord, April — 1766.
X SHALL embrace your permission to fill my paper.
— As to subject, that which has been a frequent theme
of my heart of late, I shall venture to lay before your
Lordship, — I mean the remarkable and humbling dif-
ference which I suppose all who know themselves may
observe, between their acquired and their experimental
knowledge, or in other words, between their judgment
and their practice. To hear a believer speak his ap-
prehensions of the evil of sin, the vanity of the world,
the love of Christ, the beauty of holiness, or the impor-
tance of eternity, who would not suppose him proof
against temptation ? To hear with what strong argu-
ments he can recommend watchfulness, prayer, forbear-
ance, and submission, when he is teaching or advising
others, who would not suppose but he could also teach
himself, and influence his own conduct? Yet, alas! —
Quam dispar sibi ! The person who rose from his
knees before he left his chamber a poor, indigent, falli-
ble, dependent creature, who saw and acknowledged
that he was unworthy to breathe the air or to see the
light, may meet with many occasions before the day is
closed, to discover the corruptions of his heart, and to
show how weak and faint his best principles and clearest
Let. 2. Letters lo a Nobleman. 399
convictions are in their actual exercise. And in this
view, how vain is man I v.hat a contradiction is a be-
liever to himself ! He is called a Believer emphati-
call}', because he cordially assents to the word of God ;
but, alas ! how often unworthy of tlie name ! If I -was
to describe him from the Scripture-character, I should
say, he is one whose heart is atiiirst for God, for his
glory, his ima^e, his presence : his affections are fixed
upon an unseen Saviour ; his treasures, and conse-
quently his thoughts, are on high, beyond the bounds of
sense. Having experienced much forgiveness, he is full
of bowels of mercy to all around; and having been often
deceived by his own heart, he dares trust it no more,
but lives by faith in the Son of God, for wisdom, right-
eousness, and sanctification, and derives from him
grace for grace ; sensible that without him he has not
sufficiency even to think a good thought. In short —
He is dead to the world, to sin, to self, but alive to God,
and lively in his service. Prayer is his breath, the word
of God his food, and the ordinances more precious to
him than the light of the sun. Such is a believer — in
his judgment and prevailing desires.
But was I to describe him from experience, especially
at some times, how diiferent would the picture be?
Though he knows that communion with God is his
higiiest privilege, he too seldom finds it so ; on the con-
trary, if duty, conscience, and necessity did not compel,
he would leave the throne of grace unvisited from day
to day. He takes up the Bible, conscious that it is the
fountain of life and true comfort ; yet perhaps while he
is making the reflection, he leels a secret distaste, which
prompts him to lay it down, and give his preference to
a newspaper. He needs not to be told of the vanity
and uncertainty of all beneath the sun ; and yet is al-
VoL. I. ' 3 F '
400 Letters to ei Nobleman. Let. 2.
most as much elated or cast down by a trifle, as those
who have their portion in this world. He believes that
all things shall work together for his good, and that the
most high God appoints, adjusts, and over-rules all his
concerns ; yet he feels the risings of fear, anxiety, and
displeasure, as though the contrary was true. He owns
himself ignorant, and liable to be deceived by a thou-
sand fallacies ; yei is easily betrayed into positiveness,
and self-conceit. He feels himself an unprofitable, un-
faithful, unthankful servant, and therefore blushes to
harbour a thought of desiring the esteem and commen-
dations of men, yet he cannot suppress it. Finally, (for
I must observe some bounds,) on account of these and
many other inconsistencies, he is struck dumb before
the Lord, stripped of every hope and plea, but what is
provided in the free grace of God, and yet his heart
is continually leaning and returning to a covenant of
works.
Two questions naturally arise from such a view^ of
ourselves. First, — Flow can these things be, or why
are they permitted ? Since the Lord hates sin, teaches
his people to hate it and cry against it, and has promised
to hear their prayers, how is it that they go thus bur-
dened ? surely if he could not, or would not, over-
rule evil for good, he would not permit it to continue.
By these exercises he teaches us more truly to know and
feel the utter depravity and corruption of our whole na-
ture, that we are indeed defiled in every part. His
method of salvation is likew ise hereby exceedingly en-
deared to us ; we see that it is and must be of grace,
wholly of grace ; and that the Lord Jesus Christ, and
his perfect righteousness, is and must be our all in all.
His power likewise in maintaining his own work, not-
withstanding our infirmities, temptations, and enemies.
Let. 2. Letters to a Nuldeniivi. 401
is hereby displayed in the clearest light, his strength is
manifested in our weakness. Satan likewise is more
remarkably disappointed and put to shame, when he
iinds bounds set to his rage and policy, beyond which
he cannot pass ; and that those in whom he finds so
much to work upon, and over M'hom he so often pre-
vails for a season, escape at last out of his hands. He;
casts them down, but they are raised again ; he wounds
them, but they are healed : he obtains his desire to sift
them as wheat, but the prayer of their great Advocate
prevails for the maintenance of their faith. Further,
by what believers feel in themselves, they learn by de-
grees how to warn, pity, and bear with others. A soft,
patient, and compassionate spirit, and a readiness and
skill in comforting those who are cast down, is not per-
haps attainable in any other way. And lastly, I be-
lieve nothing more habitually reconciles a child of God
to the thought of death, than the wearisomeness of this
warfare. Death is unwelcome to nature ; — but then,
and not till then, the conflict will cease. Then we shall
sin no more. The flesh, with alt its attendant evils,
will be laid in the grave ; — then the soul, which has
been partaker of a new and heavenly birth, shall be
freed from every incumbrance, and stand perfect in the
Redeemer's righteousness before God in glory.
But though these evils cannot be wholly removed, it
is worth while to inquire. Secondly, How they may be
mitigated ? This Ave are encouraged to hope for. The
word of God directs and animates to a crowth in <>"race •
and though we can do nothing spiritually of ourselves,
yet there is a part assigned us. We cannot conquer
the obstacles in our way by our own strength ; yet we
can give way to thcjn ; and if vre do, it is our sin, and
will be our sorrow. The disputes concerning inherent
402 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 3.
power in the creature, have been carried to inconve-
nient lengths ; for my own part, I think it safe to use
Scriptural language. The apostles exhort us, to give
all diligence, to resist the devil, to purge ourselves irom
all filthiuess of flesh and spirit, to give ourselves to read-
ing, medikitioti, and prayer; to watch, to put on the
whole aroKHir of God, and to abstain from all appear-
ance of evil. Faithfulness to light received, and a sin-
cere endeavour to conlorm to the means prescribed in
the word of God, with an humble application to the
blood of sprinkling, and the promised Spirit, will un-
doubtedly be answered by increasing measures of light,
faith, strength, and comfort; and we shall know, if we
follow on to know the Lord.
I need not tell your Lordship that I am an extem-
pore writer. I dropped the consideration of whom I
•was addressing from the first paragraph : but I now
return and subscribe myself, with the greatest defer-
ence, &c.
LETTER in.
My Lord, April— 1770.
X HAVE a desire to fill the paper, and must therefore
betake myself to the expedient I lately mentioned. —
Glorious things are spoken of the city of God, or, (as I
suppose,) the state of glory, in Rev. xxi. from verse 10.
ad jinem. The description is doubtless mystical, and
perhaps nothing short of a happy experience and parti-
cipation will furnish an adequate exposition. One ex-
pression, in particular, has I believe puzzled wiser heads
than mine to explain. The. street of the eity rras pure
gold, as it zvcre transparent glass. The construction
Let. 3. Letters to a Not/lenian. 403
likewise in the Greek is difficult. Some render it pure
gold tramparent as glass ; this is the sense, hut then it
should he neuter, ^»«?«v;;, to agree with x'','^'^^"-^- If our
reading is right, we must understand it either of gold
pure^ bright, and perspicuous as the finest transparent
glass, (for all glass is not transparent,) or else, as two
distinct comparisons, splendid and durable as the purest
gold, clear and transparent as the finest jrlass. In that
happy world the beauties and advantages which here
are divided and incompatible, will unite and agree.
Our glass is clear, but brittle ; our gold is shining and
solid, but it is opaque, and discovers only a surface.
And thus it is with our minds. The powers of the
imaiiination arc lively and extensive, but transient and
uncertain. The powers of the understanding are more
solid and regular, but at the same time more slow and
limited, and confined to the outside properties of the
few objects around us. But when we arrive within the
vail, the perfections of the glass and the gold will be
combined, and the imperfections of each will entirely
cease. Then we shall knotv more than we can now
imadne. The aiass will be all Q-old. And then we
hhall apprehend Truth in its relations and consequences,
not, (as at present,) by that tedious and fallible process
which we call Reasoning, but by a single glance of
thought, as the sight pierces in an instant through the
largest transparent body. The gold zi'ill be all glass.
I do not offer this as the sense of the passage, but as
a thought which once occurred to me while reading it.
I daily groan under a desultory ungovernable imagina-
tion, and a palpable darkness of understanding, which
greatly impede me in my attempts to conteuiplate the
truths of God. Perhaps these complaints, in a greater
or less degree, are common to all our fallen race, and
404 Letters to a NoOleman. Let. 3.
exhibit mournful proofs that our nature is essentially
depraved. The grace of God affords some assistance
for correcting the wildness of the fancy, and enlarging
the capacity of the mind : yet the cure at present is but
palliative ; but ere long it shall be perfect, and our
complaints shall cease for ever. Now it costs us much
pains to acquire a pittance of solid and useful know-
ledge ; and the ideas we have collected are far from
being at the disposal of judgment, and, like men in a
crowd, are perpetually clashing and interfering v.ith
each other. But it will not be so, when we are com-
pletely freed from the effects of sin. Confusion and
darkness will not follow us into the world where lisht
and order reign. Then, and not till then, our know-
ledge will be perfect, and our possession of it uninter-
rupted and secure.
Since the radical powers of the soul are thus enfee-
bled and disordered, it is not to be wondered at that
the best of men, and under their highest attainments,
have found cause to make the ac^aiowledgment of the
apostle, " When I would do good evil is present with
" me." But, blessed be God, though we must feel
hourly cause for shame and humiliation for what we are
in ourselves, we have cause to rejoice continually in
Christ Jesus, who, as he is revealed unto us under the
various names, characters, relations, and offices, which
he bears in the Scripture, holds out to our faith a balm
for every wound, a cordial for every discouragement,
and a sufficient ansucr to every objection which sin or
Satan can suggest against our peace. If we are guilty,
he is our righteousness : if we are sick, he is our inial-
ble physician ; if we are weak, helpless, and defence-
less, he is the compassionate and faithful Shepherd who
has taken charge of us, and will not suffer any thing to
liCt. 4. Litters to a Noblenxin. 405
disappoint our hopes, or to separate us from his love.
He knows our frame; he remembers that we are but
dust ; and has engaged to guide us by his counsel, sup-
port us by his power, and at length to receive us to his
glory, tliat we may be with him for ever.
1 am, with the greatest deference, &c.
LETTER IV.
My Lord, Februciry — 1772,
A HAVE been sitting perhaps a quarter of an hour
with my pen in my hand, and my finger upon my upper
lip, contriving how I should begin my letter. — A detail
of the confused incoherent thoughts w hich have succes-
sively passed through my mind, would have more than
filled the sheet ; but your Lordship's patience, and even
your charity for the writer, would have been tried to the
uttermost, if I could have penned them all down. At
length my suspense reminded me of the apostle's words,
Gal. v. 17. " Ye cannot do the things that ye would."
This is an humbling but a just account of a Christian's
attainments in the present life, and is equally applicable
to the stroncrest and to the weakest. The weakest need
not say less^ the strongest will hardly venture to say wore.
The Lord has given his people a desire and will aiming
at great things ; without this they would be unworthy
the name of Christians ; but they cannot do as they
would : their best desires are weak and ineffectual, not
absolutely so, (for he who works in them to w ill, enables
them in a measure to do likewise,) but in comparison
with the mark at which they aim. So that while they
have great cause to he thankful for the desire he has
given them, and for the degree in which it is answered,
IDti Lcitcrs to a Nobleman. Let. 4,
they have equal reason to be ashamed and abased un-
der a s.ense of their continual defects, and the evil mix-
tures which taint and debase their best endeavours. It
would be easy to make out a long list of particulars
which a believer would do if he could, but in which from
first to last, he finds a mortifying inability. Permit me
to mention a few, which I need not transcribe from
books, for they are always present to my mind.
He would Avillingly enjoy God in prayer : — he knows
that prayer is his duty ; but, in his judgment, he consi-
ders it likewise as his greatest honour and privilege.
In this light he can recommend it to others, and can tell
them of the wonderful condescension of the great God,
who humbles himself to behold the thino;s that are in
heaven, that he should stoop so much lower, to afford
bis gracious ear to the supplications of sinful worms
upon earth. He can bid them expect a pleasure in
waiting upon the Lord, different in kind and greater in
degree than all that the world can afford. By prayer
he can say. You have liberty to cast all your cares upon
him that careth for you. By one hour's intimate access
to the throne of grace, where the Lord causes his glory
to pass before the soul that seeks him, you may acquire
more true spiritual knowledge and comfort, than by a
day or a week's converse with the best of men, or the
most studious perusal of many folios : and in this light
he would consider it and improve it for himself. But,
alas ! how seldom can he do as he would ! How often
does he find this privilege a mere task, which he
would be glad of a just excuse to omit ? and the chief
pleasure he derives from the performance, is to think that
his task is finished : — he has been drawing near to God
with his lips, while his heart was far from him. Surel}-
this is not doing as he would, when, (to borrow the ex-
Let. 4. Letters to a Nobleman. 407
pression of an old woman here,) he is dragged before
God like a slave, and comes away like a thief.
The like may be said of reading the Scripture. He
believes it to be the Mord of God : he adn)ires the wis-
dom and grace of the doctrines, the beauty of the pre-
cepts, the richness and suitableness of the promises ;
and therefore, with David, he accounts it preferable to
thousands of gold and silver, and sweeter than honty or
the honeycomb. Yet while he thus thinks of it, and desires
that it may dwell in him richly, and be his meditation
night and day, he cannot do as he would. It will re-
quire some resolution to persist in reading a portion of
it every day ; and even then his heart is often less en-
gaged than when reading a pamphlet. Here again his
privilege frequently dwindles into a task. His appetite
is vitiated, so that he has but little relish for the food
of his soul.
He would willingly have abiding, admiring thoughts
of the person and love of the Lord Jesus Christ. Glad
he is, indeed, of those occasions w hich recall the Saviour
to his mind; and ^vith this view, notwithstanding all dis-
couragements, he perseveres in attempting to pray and
read, and waits upon the ordinances. Yet he cannot do as
he would. Whatever claims he may have to the exer-
cise of gratitude and sensibility towards his fellow- crea-
tures, he must confess himselt mournfully ungrateful and
insensible towards his best Friend and Benefactor. Ah!
what trifles are capable of shutting him out of our
thoughts, of whom we say. He is the Beloved of our
souls, who loved us, and gave himself for us, and whona
we have deliberately chosen as our chief good and por-
tion. What can make us amends for the loss we sufter
here ? Yet surely if we could, we would set him alwavs
Vol. T. "^ 3 G
408 titers to a Nobleman. Let. 4.
before us ; his love should be the delightful theme of
our hearts
From morn to noon, from noon to dewy eve.
But though we aim at this good, evil is present with us ;
we find we are renewed but in part, and have still cause
to plead the Lord's promise, To take away the heart of
stone, and give us a heart of flesh.
He would willingly acquiesce in all the dispensations
of Divine Providence. He believes that all events are
under the direction of infinite wisdom and goodness, and
shall surely issue in the glory of God and the good of
those who fear him. He doubts not but the hairs of his
head are all numbered, that the blessings of every kind
>vhich he possesses, were bestowed upon him, and are
preserved to him, by the bounty and special favour of
the Lord whom he serves ; that afflictions spring not out
of the gi'ound, but are fruits and tokens of Divine love,
no less than his comforts ; — that there is a need-be,
whenever for a season he is in heaviness. Of these prin-
ciples he can no more doubt, than of what he sees with
his eyes, and there are seasons when he thinks they will
prove sufficient to reconcile him to the sharpest trials.
But often when he aims to apply them in an hour of
present distress, he cannot do what he would. He feels
a law in his members warring against the law in his
mind ; so that, in defiance of the clearest convictions, see-
ing as though he perceived not, he is ready to complain,
murmur, and despond. Alas ! how vain is man in his
best estate ! How much weakness and inconsistency
even in those whose hearts are right with the Lord ! and
what reason have we to confess that we are unworthy,
u profitable servants !
Let. 5. Letters to a Noblemnn. 409
It were easy to enlarge in this way, would paper and
time permit. But blessed be God, we are not under
tlie law, but under grace. i\nd even these distressing
effects of the remnants of indwelling sin are over-ruled
for good. By these experiences the believer is weaned
more from self, and taught more highly to prize and
more obsolutely to rely on him, who is appointed unto
us of God, Wisdom, Righteousness, Sanctification, and
Redemption. The more vile we are in our own eyes,
the more precious he will be to us ; and a deep repeated
sense of the evil of our hearts is necessary to preclude
all boasting, and to make us willing to give the whole
glory of our salvation where it is due. Again, a sense
of these evils will, (when hardly any thing else can do it,)
reconcile us to the thoughts of death ; yea, make us de-
sirous to depart that we may sin no more, since we find
depravity so deep rooted in our nature, that, (like the
leprous house,) the whole fabric must be taken down
before we can be freed from its defilement. Then, and
not till then, we shall be able to do the thing that we
would : when we see Jesus, we shall be transformed
into his image, and have done with sin and sorrow for
ever.
I am, with great deference, &c.
LETTER V.
My Lord, March— 1772
A THINK my last letter turned upon the apostle's
thought. Gal. v. 17. " Ye cannot do the tilings that ye
would." In the parallel place, Rom. vii. 19. there is
another clause subjoined, " The evil which I would not,
" that I do." This, a(;ided to the former, would, com-
410 'Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 5.
plete the dark side of my experience. Permit me to
tell your lordship a little part, (for some things must
not, cannot be told,) not of what I have read, but of
what I have felt, in illustration of this passage.
I would not be the sport and prey of wild, vain, fool-
ish, and worse imaginations ; but this evil is present
with me ; my heart is like a highway, like a city with-
out walls or gates. Nothing so false, so frivolous, so
absurd, so impossible, or so horrid, but it can obtain ac-
cess, and that at any time, or in any place : neither the
study, the pulpit, or even the Lord's table, exempt me
from their intrusion. I sometimes compare my words
to the treble of an instrument, which my thoughts ac-
company with a kind of base, or rather an ti- base, in
which every rule of harmony is broken, every possible
combination of discord and confusion is introduced, utter-
ly inconsistent with, and contradictory to, the intended
melody. Ah! what music would my praying and preach-
ing often make in the ears of the Lord of Hosts, if he
listened to them as they are jnine only ! By men, the
upper part only, (if I may so speak,) is heard ; and
small cause there is for self-gratulation, if they should
happen to commend, when conscience tells me they
would be struck with astonishment and abhorrence
could they hear the whole.
But if this awful effect of heart-depravity cannot be
wholly avoided in the present state of human nature,
yet, at least, I would not allow and indulge it; yet this I
find I do. In defiance of my best judgment and best
wishes, I find something within me which cherishes and
cleaves to those evils, from which I ought to start and
flee, as I should if a toad or a serpent was put in iny
food or in my bed. Ah ! how vile must the heart, (at
least my heart,) be, that can hold a parley with such
Let. 5. Letters to a Nobleman. 411
abominations, when I so well know their nature and
their tendency. Surely he who finds himself capable of
this, may, without the least affection of humility, (how-
ever fair his outward conduct appears,) subscribe him-
self less than the least of all saints, and of sinners the
very chief.
I would not be influenced by a principle of self on
any occasion ; yet this evil I often do. I see the base-
ness and absurdity of such a conduct as clearly as I see
the light of the day. I do not affect to be thought ten
feet hio;h, and I know that a desire of being thought wise
or good, is equally contrary to reason and truth. I
should be grieved or angry if my fellow-creatures sup-
posed I had such a desire : and therefore I fear the very
principle of self, of which I complain, has a considera-
ble share in prompting my desires to conceal it. The
pride of others often offends me, and makes me studious
to hide my own ; because their good opinion of me de-
pends much upon their not perceiving it. But the Lord
knows how this dead fly taints and spoils my best ser-
vices, and makes them no better than specious sins.
I would not indulge vain reasonings concerning the
counsels, ways, and providences of God ; yet I am
prone to do it. That the Judge of all the earth will do
right, is to me as evident and necessary as that two and
two make four. I believe that he has a sovereign ricrht
to do what he will with his own, and that this sove-
reignty is but another name for the unlimited exercise of
wisdom and goodness. But my reasonings are often
such, as if I had never heard of these principles, or had
formally renounced them. I feel the workings of a pre-
sumptuous spirit that would account for every thing;,
and venture to dispute whatever it cannot comprehend.
412 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 5.
What an evil is this, for a potsherd of the earth to con-
tend with its Maker ! I do not act thus towards my
fellow-creatures ; I do not find fault with the decisions
of a judge, or the dispositions of a general, because,
though I know they are fallible, yet I suppose they are
wiser in their respective departments than myself But
I am often ready to take this liberty when it is most
unreasonable and inexcusable.
I would not cleave to a covenant of works : it should
seem from the foregoing particulars, and many others
which I could mention, that I have reasons enough to
deter me from this. Yet even this I do. Not but
that I say, and I hope from my heart. Enter not into
judgment with thy servant, O Lord ; I embrace it as a
faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus
Christ came into the world to save sinners ; and it is the
main pleasure and business of my life, to set forth the
necessity and all-sufficiency of the JNIediator between
God and man, and to make mention of his righteous-
ness, even of his only. But here, as in every thing else,
I find a vast difference between my judgment and my
experience. I am invited to take the water of Wie freely y
■yet often discouraged, because I have nothing where-
with to pay for it. If I am at times favoured with some
liberty from the above-mentioned evil, it rather gives
me a more favourable opinion of myself, than increases
my admiration of the Lord's goodness to so unworthy a
creature ; and when the returning tide of my corruptions
convinces me that / am still the same, an unbelieving
legal spirit would urge me to conclude that the Lord is
changed : at least, I feel a weariness of being beholden
to him for such continued multiplied forgiveness ; and I
fear that some part of my striving against sin, and my
Let. 6. Letters to a Nobleman. 413
desires after an increase of sanctification, arises from a
secret wish that I might not be so absolutely and en-
tirely indebted to him.
This, my Lord, is only a faint sketch of my heart ;
but it is taken from the life : it would require a volume
rather than a letter to fill up the outlines. But I believe
you will not regret that I choose to say no more upon
such a subject. But though my disease is grievous, it is
not desperate ; I have a gracious and infallible physi-
cian. 1 shall not die, but live, and declare the works
of the Lord.
I remain, my Lord, &c.
M
LETTER VI.
My Lord, April— 1772.
.Y two last letters turned upon a mournful subject,
the depravity of the heart, which impedes us when we
would do good, and pollutes our best intended services
with evil. We have cause, upon this account, to go
softly all our days ; yet we need not sorro^v as they who
have no hope. The Lord has provided his people relief
under those complaints, and teaches us to draw im-
provement from them. If the evils we feel were not
capable of being over-ruled for good, he would not per-
mit them to remain in us. This we may infer from
his hatred to sin, and the love which he bears to his
people.
As to the remedy, neither our state nor his honour
are affected by the workings of indwelling sin, in the
hearts of those whom he has taught to wrestle, strive,
and mourn, on account of what they feel. Though sin
wars, it shall not reign; and though it breaks our peace.
A14 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 6.
it cannot separate from his love. Nor is it inconsistent
with his holiness and perfection, to manifest his favour
to such poor defiled creatures, or to admit them to com-
munion with himself; for they are not considered as in
themselves, but as one with Jesus, to whom they have
fled for refuge, and by whom they live a life of faith.
They are accepted in the Beloved, they have an Advo-
cate with the Father, w ho once made an atonement for
their sins, and ever lives to make intercession for their
persons. Though they cannot fulfil the law, he has
fulfilled it for them ; though the obedience ot the mem-
bers is defiled and imperfect, the obedience of the head
is spotless and complete; and though there is much evil
in them, there is something good, the fruit of his own
gracious Spirit. They act from a principle of love, they
aim at no less than his glory, and their habitual desires
are supremely fixed upon himself. There is a difference
in kind between the feeblest efforts of faith in a real be-
liever, Mhile he is covered with shame at the thoughts
of his miscarriages, and the highest and most specious
attainments of those w ho are wise in their own eyes, and
prudent in their own sight. Nor shall this conflict re-
main long, or the enemy finally prevail over them.
They are supported by almighty power, and led on to
certain victory. They shall not always be as they are
now ; yet a little while, and they shall be fretd from
this vile body, which, like the leprous house, is incura-
bly contaminated, and must be entirely taken down.
Then they shall see Jesus as he is, and be like him^
and with him for ever.
The gracious purposes to which the Lord makes the
sense and feeling of our depravity subservient, are ma-
nifold. Hereby his own power, wisdom, faithfulness,
and love, are more signally displayed. His power, in
Let. C. Letters to a Nobleman. 416
maintaining hi^ own work in the midst of so much op-
position, like a spark burning in the water, or a bush
unconsumed in the flames. His wisdom, in defeating
and controlling all the devices which Satan, from his
knowledge of the evil of our nature, is encouraged to
practise against us. He has overthrown many a fair
professor, and, like Goliah, he challenges the whole
army of Israel ; yet he finds there are some against
whom, though he thrusts sorely, he cannot prevail ; not-
withstanding any seeming advantage he gains at some
seasons, they are still delivered, for the Lord is on their
side. The unchangeableness of the Lord's love, and
the riches of his mercv, are likewise more illustrated by
the multiplied pardons he bestows upon his people,
than if they needed no forgiveness at all.
Hereby the Lord Jesus Christ is more endeared to
the soul ; all boasting is effectually excluded, and the
glory of a full and free salvation is ascribed to bun
alone. If a mariner is surprised by a storm, and alter
one night spent in jeopardy, is presently brought safe
into port ; though he may rejoice in his deliverance, it
will not affect him so sensibly, as if, after being tempest-
tossed for a long season, and experiencing a great num-
ber and variety of hair-breadth escapes, he at last gains
the desired haven. The righteous are said to be scarce-
ly saved, not with respect to the certainty of the event,
for the purpose of God in their favour cannot be disap-
pointed ; but in respect of their own apprehensions, and
the great difficulties they are broui^ht through. But
when, after a long experience of their own deceitful
hearts, after repeated proofs of their weakness, wilful-
ness, ingratitude, and insensibility, they find that none
of these things can separate them from the love of God
in Christ, Jesus becomes more and more precious to
Vol. I. 3 H
41G Letters to a Noblevirni. Let. G.
their souls. They love much, because much has been
forgiven them. They dare not, they v,i\\ not ascribe
any thing to themselves, but are glad to acknowledge,
that they must have perished, (if possible,) a thousand
times over, if Jesus had not been their Saviour, their
shepherd, and their shield. When they were wander-
ing he brought them back, when fallen he raised them,
when wounded he healed them, when fainting he re-
vived them. By him out of weakness they have been
made strong ; he has taught their hands to war, and
covered their heads in the day of battle. In a word,
some of the clearest proofs they have had of his excel-
lence, have been occasioned by the mortifying proofs
they have had of their own vileness. They would not
have known so much of him, if they had not known so
much of themselves.
Further, a spirit of humiliation, which is both the
Decus et Tutamen^ the strength and beauty of our pro-
fession, is greatly promoted by our feeling, as well as
reading, that when we would do good, evil is present
with us. A broken and contrite spirit is pleasing to
the Lord, he has promised to dwell with those who have
it; and experience shows, that the exercise of all our
graces is in proportion to the humbling sense we hav^e
of the depravity of our nature. But that we are so to-
tally depraved, is a truth which no one ever truly learned
by being only told it. Indeed, if we could receive, and
habitually maintain, a right judgment of ourselves, by
what is plainly declared in Scripture, it would probably
save us many a mournful hour ; but experience is the
Lord's school, and they M'ho are taught by him usually
learn, that they have no wisdom by the mistakes they
make, and that they have no strength by the slips and
falls they meet with. Every day draws forth some new
Let. G. Letters to a NoMemaiu 4.17
corruption which before was little observed, or at least
discovers it in a stronger light than before. Thus by
degrees they are Aveaned from leaning to any supposed
M isdom, power, or goodness in themselves ; they feel
the truth of our Lord's words, " without me ye can do
*' nothing ;" and the necessity of crying with David,
" O lead me and guide me for thy name's sake." It is
chiefly by this frame of mind that one Christian is dif-
ferenced from another ; for, though it is an inward feel-
ing, it has very observable outward eft'ects, which are
expressively intimated, Ezek. xvi. 63. " Thou shalt be
" dumb and not open thy mouth, in the day when I am
*' pacified towards thee, saith the Lord God." The
knowledge of my full and free forgiveness of thy innu-
merable backslidintjs and transgressions, shall make thee
ashamed, and silence the unruly workings of thine heart.
Thou shalt open thy mouth in praise; but thou shalt no
more boast in thyself, or censure others, or repine at my
dispensations. In these respects we are exceedingly
prone to speak unadvisedly with our lips. But a sense
of great unworthinessand much forgiveness checks these
evils. ^V'hoever is truly humble will not be easily
angry, will not be positive and rash, will be compas-
sionate and tender to the infirmities of his felloM-sin-
ners, knowing, that if there be a difference, it is grace
that has made it, and that he has the seeds of every evil
in his o\An heart; and, under all trials and afflictions, he
w ill look to the hand of the Lord, and lay his mouth in
the dust, acknowledging that he suffers much less than
his iniquities have deserved. These are some of the
advantages and good fruits which the Lord enables us
to obtain from that bitter root, indwelling sin.
I am, with great deference, &c,
418 Letters to a Nobleman, Let.
LETTER VII.
My Lord, September — 1772
W]
EAK, unskilful, and unfaithful, as I am in practice,
the Lord has been pleased to give me some idea of what
a Christian ought to be, and of what is actually attain-
able in the present life, by those whom he enables ear-
nestly to aspire towards the prize of their high calling.
They w ho are versed in mechanics can, from a know-
ledge of the combined powers of a complicated ma-
chine, make an exact calculation of what it is able to
perform, and what resistance it can counteract ; but
who can compute the possible effects of that combina-
tion of principles and motives revealed in the Gospel,
upon a heart duly impressed with a sense of their im-
portance and glory ? When I was lately at ]\Ir. Cox's
Museum, while I was fixing my attention upon some
curious movements, ima^inino- that I saw the whole of
the artist's design, the person who showed it touched a
little spring, and suddenly a thousand new and unex-
pected motions took place, and the whole piece seemed
animated from the top to the bottom. I should have
formed but a very imperfect judgm.ent of it, had I seen
no more than what I saw at first. I thought it mi^ht
in some measure illustrate the vast difference that is
observable amongst professors, even amongst those who
are, it is to be hoped, sincere. There are persons who
appear to have a true knowledge, (in part,) of the nature
of the Gospel-religion, but seem not to be apprised of
its properties, in their comprehension and extent. li
they have attained to some hope of their acceptance ; if
they find at seasons some communion with God in the
Let. 7. Letters to a Noblemun. -il'j
means of grace ; if they are in measure delivered from
the prevailing and corrupt customs of the world, they
seem to be satisfied, as if they were possessed of all.
These arc indeed great things; Sedmel'wr a latent. The
profession of too many, whose sincerity charity would
be unwilling to impeach, is greatly blemished, notwith-
standing their hopes and their occasional comforts, by
the breakings forth of unsanctified tempers, and the in-
dulgence of vain hopes, anxious cares, and selfish pur-
suits. Far, very far, am I from that unscriptural sen-
timent of sinless perfection in fallen man. To those
who have a due sense of the spirituality and ground of
the divine precepts, and of what passes in their own
hearts, there will never be wanting causes of humiliation
and self-abasement on the account of sin; yet still there
is a liberty and privilege attainable by the Gospel, be-
3'ond what is ordinarily thought of. Permit me to men-
tion two or three particulars, in which those m ho have
a holy ambition of aspiring to them shall not be alto-
gether disappointed.
A delight in the Lord's all-sufficiency, to be satisfied
in him as our present and eternal portion. This, in the
sense in which I understand it, is not the effect of a
present warm frame, but of a deeply rooted and abiding
principle; the habitual exercise of which is to be esti-
mated by the comparative indifference with which other
things are regarded. The soul thus principled is not at
leisure to take or to seek satisfaction in any thing but
what has a known subserviency to this leading taste.
Either the Lord is present, and then he is to be rejoiced
in ; or else he is absent, and then he is to be sought and
waited for. They are to be pitied, who, if they are at
some times happy in the Lord, can at other times be
happy without him, and rejoice in broken cisterns, when
4!2{) Lcitci's lo a Isoblemaii. Let. 7,
their spirits are at a distance from the fountain of living
waters. I do not plead for an absolute indifference to
temporal blessings ; he gives us all things richly to enjoy ;
and a capacity of relishing them is his gift likewise; but
then the consideration of his love in bestowing should
exceedingly enhance the value, and a regard to his will
should regulate their use. Nor can they all supply the
\\M\ioi that which we can only receive immediately from
himself. This principle likewise moderates that inordi-
nate fear and sorrow to which we are liable upon the pro-
spect or the occurrence of great trials, for which there is a
sure support and resource provided in the all-sufficiency,
of infinite goodness and grace. What a privilege is this,
to possess God in all t/iings while we have them, and all
things in God when they are taken from us.
An acquiescence in the Lord's w ill, founded in a per-
suasion of his wisdom, holiness, sovereignty, and good-
ness. This is one of the greatest privileges and bright-
est ornaments of our profession. So far as we attain to
this, we are secure from disappointment. Our own
limited views, and short-sighted purposes and desires,
may be, and will be, often over ruled ; but then our
main and leading desire, that the will of the Lord may
be done, must be accomplished. IIow highly does it
become us, both as creatures and as sinners, to submit
to the appointments of our Maker! and how necessary
is it to oiu' peace ! This great attainment is too often
unthought of, and overlooked; we are prone to fix our
attention upon the second causes and immediate instru-
ments of events ; forgetting that whatever befalls us is
according to his purpose, and therefore must be right
and seasonable in itself, and shall in the issue be pro-
ductive of good. From hence arise impatience, resent-
ment, and secret repinings, which are not only sinful,
Let. 7. Letters to a Nobleman. 421
but tormenting : whereas, if all things are in his hand,
if the very hairs of our head are numbered ; if every
event, 2;reat and small, is under the direction of his pro-
vidence and purpose; and if he has a wise, holy, and
gracious end in view, to which every thing that happens
is subordinate and subservient; — then we have nothing
to do, but with patience and humility to follow as he
leads, and cheerfully to expect a happy issue. The path
of present duty is marked out; and the concerns of the
next and every succeeding hour are in his hands. How
happy are they who can resign all to him, see his hand
in every dispensation, and believe that he chooses bet-
ter for them than they possibly could for themselves !
A single eye to his glory, as the ultimate scope of all
our undertakings. The Lord can design nothing short
of his own glory, nor should we. The constraining love
of Christ has a direct and marvellous tendency, in pro-
portion to the measure of faith, to mortify the corrupt
principle, Sc/f, which for a season is the grand spring of
our conduct, and by which we are too much biassed
after we know the Lord. But as grace prevails, self is
renounced. We feel that we are not our ov,n, that we
are bought with a price; and that it is our duty, our ho-
nour, and our happiness, to be servants of God and of
the Lord Jesus Christ. To devote soul and bod}', every
talent, power, and facult}', to the service of his cause
and will; to let our light shine, (in our several situations,)
to the praise of his grace ; to place our highest joy in
the contemplation of his adorable perfections; to rejoice
even in tribulations and distresses, in reproaches and in-
firmities, if thereby the power of Christ may rest upon
us, and be magnified in us ; to be content, yea, glad to
be nothing, that he may be all in ail; — to obey hm, m
opposition to the threats or solicitations of men ; to trust
43^2 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. T.
him, though all outward appearances seem against us ;
to rejoice in him, though we should, (as will sooner or
later be the case,) have nothing else to rejoice in ; — to
live above the world, and to have our conversation in
heaven ; to be like the angels, finding our own pleasure
in performing his : — This, my lord, is the prize, the
mark of our high calling, to which we are encouraged
with a holy ambition continually to aspire. It is true,
we shall still fall short; we shall find, that when we
would do good, evil will be present with us. But the
attempt is glorious, and shall not be wholly in vain.
He that gives us thus to will, will enable us to perform
with growing success, and teach us to profit even by
our mistakes and imperfections
O blessed man! that thus fears the Lord, that de-
lights in his word, and derives his principles, motives,
maxims, and consolations, from that unfailing source of
light and strength. He shall be like a tree planted by
the rivers of water, whose leaf is always green, and fruit
abundant. The wisdom that is above shall direct his
plans, inspire his counsels; and the power of God shall
guard him on every side, and prepare his w-ay through
every difficulty : he shall see mountains sink into plains,
and streams spring up in the dry wilderness. The
Lord's enemies will be his; and they may be permitted
to fight against him, but they shall not prevail, for the
Lord is with him to deliver him. The conduct of such
a one, though in a narrow and retired sphere of life, is
of more real excellence and importance, than the most
splendid actions of kings and conquerors, which fill the
annals of history, Prov. xvi. 32. And if the God whom
lie serves is pleased to place him in a more public light,
his labours and cares will be amply compensated, by the
superior opportunities afforded him of manifesting the
Let. 8. Letters to a Nobleman.
power and reality of true religion, and promoting the
good of mankind.
I hope I may say, that I desire to be thus entirely
given up to the Lord ; I am sure I must say, that what
I have written is far from being my actual experience.
Alas ! I might be condemned out of my own mouth,
\vere the Lord strict to mark what is amiss. But, O
the comfort ! Ave are not under the law, but under
g.ace. The Gospel is a dispensation for sinners, and
we have an Advocate with the Father. There is the
unshaken ground of hope. A reconciled Father, a pre-
vailing Advocate, a powerful Shepherd, a compassionate
Friend, a Saviour, who is able and willing to save to the
uttermost. He knows our frame ; he remembers that
we are but dust ; and has opened for us a new and
blood -besprinkled way of access to the throne of grace,
that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in
every time of need.
I am^ &c.
LETTER VIII.
My Lord, April— 1773.
OR five or six weeks past I have been a good deal
indisposed. The ground of my complaint was a cold,
attended with a slight fever, and for some time with a
cough, which made me feel some inconvenience in
preaching; to this succeeded a deafness, so great as to
cut me off from conversation : for I could not hear the
sound of a voice, unless it was spoken loud in my ear.
But the Lord has mercifully removed the fever and
cough, opened my cars, and I am now nearly as well
as usual. I had cause to be thankful, especially for two
Vol. I 3 1
424 Lett era to a ISobkman. Let. 8,
things, under this dispensation : First, that I was en-
abled, though sometimes with a little difficulty, to go on
with my public work. It is a singular favour I have to
acknowledge, that for the space of almost nine years,
since I have been in tiie ministry, our sabbath and
weekly opportunities have not been once suspended :
whereas I have seen many of the Lord's servants laid
by for a considerable space within that time. My other
great mercy was, that the Lord was pleased to preserve
me in a peaceful resigned frame ; so that when I was
deaf, and could not be certain that I should recover my
hearing any more, I was in general as cheerful and
easy as at other times. This was the effect of his
goodness : — for though I know enough of his sove-
reignty, wisdom, and faithfulness ; of his right to do what
he pleases, and the certainty that he does all things
w^ell, to furnish me with arguments enough to prove
that submission to his will is our absolute duty ; yet I
am sensible, that when the trial actually comes, not-
withstanding all the advice I may have offered to others,
I should myself toss like a wild bull in a net ; rebel and
repine; forget that I am a sinner, and that he is sove-
reign ; this, I say, would always and invariably be the
case, unless he was graciously pleased to fulfil his word,
that strength shall be according to the day. I hope
my deafness has been instructive to me. The exercise
of our senses is so easily and constantly performed, that
it seems a thing of course ; but I was then reminded
how precarious the tenure is by which we hold those
blessings wiiich seem most our own, and Avhich are
most immediately necessary to the comfortable enjoy-
ment of life. Outward senses, mental faculties, health
of body, and peace of mind, are extremely valuable ;
but the continuance of them for a sins-le moment dc-
hot, 8. Letters to a Nobleman. 42i>
pends upon him who, if he opens none can shut, and
when he shuts none can open. A minute is more than
sufficient to deprive us of what we liold most dear, or
to prevent us from deriving the least comfort from it if
it is not taken away. I am not presuming to give your
lordship information ; but only mentioning the thoughts
that were much upon my mind while I was incapable
of conversation. These are indeed plain and obvious
truths, which I have long acknowledged as indisputa-
ble ; but I have reason to be thankful when the Lord
impresses them with fresh power upon my heart, even
though he sees lit to do it by the medium of afflictions.
I have seen of late something of the weight and impor-
tance of that admonition, Jer. ix. ^3, 24. A passage
which, though addressed to the wise, the mighty, and
the rich, is of universal application ; — for selfj unless
corrected and mortified by grace, vvill find something
v\ hereof to glory, in the meanest characters and the
lowest situation. And indeed, when things come to be
weighed in the balance of the sanctuary, the lunatics in
licdlam, some of whom glory in their straw or their
chains, as marks of splendour or ensigns of royalty, have
as much reason on their side, as any persons upon earth
who glory in themselves. This alone is the proper
ground of glory and joy, if we know the Lord. Then
all is safe at present, and all vvill be happy for ever.
Then, whatever changes may affect our temporal con-
cernments, our best interests and hopes are secured be-
yond the reach of change ; and whatever we may lose
or suffer during this little span of time, will be abun-
dantly compensated in that glorious state of eternity
which is just at hand.
I am, $i.r..
426 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 9.
LETTtlR IX.
IMy Lord, December — 1772.
X LATELY emplo3'ed some of my leisure hoiirs,(\vhich,
when I am not indolent, are but few,) in reading the Me-
moirs of the duke of Sully, which 'occasionally came in
my way. It afforded me matter for variety of reflec-
tions. I pity me duke of Sullv, whose attachment to
the name of a Protestant seems to have been little more
than a point of honour, who drew all his resources from
himself, and "whose chief aim seems to have been to ap-
prove himself faithful to an earthly master. He acted
as well as could be expected from natural principles ;
and the Lord, who emploj^ed him as an instrument of
his providence, rewarded his fidelity with success, ho-
nour, and riches : a reward Avhich, though in itself a
poor one, is suited to the desires of men who place their
happiness in worldly things, and is so far a compensa-
tion of their services. It is given to your lordship to
act from nobler principles, and with more enlarged
views. You serve a INIaster, of whose favour, protec-
tion, and assistance, you cannot be deprived ; who m ill
not overlook or misconstrue the smallest service you at-
tempt for him; who will listen to no insinuations against
3^ou, who is always near to comfort, direct and strength-
en you ; and who is preparing for you such honours and
blessings as he only can give, an inheritance, (the reverse
OI all earthly good,) «(fG«pTov, Jta* a/^*avTOv, xa* a.jjiO'.favTov*.
Thus animated and thus supported, assisted likewise by
the prayers of thousands, jnay we not warrantably hope
• Incorruptible, undefiled, unhiding-.
I,cl. 9. Lcttem to a Nobleman. 427
that your lordship will he an instrument of great good,
and that both church and state will be benefited by your
example, counsels, and care ?
In another view, the duke of Sully's history exhibits
a comment upon the Psalmist's words, " Surely man in
" his best estate is altogether vanity." Y'lew him in
one light, he seems to have possessed all that the most
aspiring mind could aim at — the favour and confidence
of his prince, accumulated wealth, great honours, and
such power by his offices and influence with the king,
that he could almost do what he pleased. Yet he had
so much to suffer from the fatigues and difficulties of
his station, and the cabals and malice of his enemies,
that, in the midst of all his grandeur, a dispassionate
mind would rather pity than envy him. And how sud-
denly were his schemes broken by the death of the
king ! Then he lost his friend, his protector, his in-
fluence. The remainder of his days were imbittered by
many inquietudes ; he lived indeed, (if that could afford
any consolation,) in much state and pageantry after-
wards ; but after havino; toiled throuj^h more than four-
score years, died at last almost of a broken heart from
domestic uneasinesses. And is this all that the world
can do for those who are accounted most successful !
Alas !
Too low they build who build below the skies.
xVnd what a picture of the instability of human things
have we in his master Henry! Admired, beloved,
dreaded ; full of vast designs, fondly supposing him-
self born to be the arbiter of Europe, in an awful mo-
ment, and in the midst of his friends, suddenly struck
from the height of his crrandeur, and snatched into the
MH Letters to a NoOlemati. Let. 0.
invisible, unchangeable world. In that moment all his
thoughts perished.
How unspeakably awful such a transition ! How re-
markable were his own forebodings of the approaching
hour ! O Lord, how dost thou pour contempt upon
princes, and teach us that the great and the mean are
equally in thy hands, and at thy disposal, as clay in the
hands of the potter ! Poor king I while he expected
obedience to his own commands, he lived in habitual
defiance of the commands of God. Men may respect
his memory, for his sincerity, benevolence, and other
amiable qualities ; but besides that, he was engrossed
by a round of sensual pleasure, (when business of state
did rot interfere,) his life was stained with adultery.
Happy, if in the hours he spent in retirement, when the
pre-intimation of his death hung heavy upon his mind,
the Lord humbled and softened his heart, and gave him
repentance unto life ! I wish the history afforded a
proof of this. However, in his death, we see an affect-
ing proof, that no human dignity or power can ward off
the stroke of the Almighty, who by such sudden and
unexpected dispensations often shows himself terrible
to the princes and great men of the earth. O ! that
they could see his hand, and wisely consider his doing
in them.
But happy is the man who fears the Lord, and de-
lights in his commandments ; who sets God always be-
fore him, and acts under the constraining influence of
redeeming love. He is the real friend and the best
champion of his country, who makes, not the vague no-
tions of human wisdoiu and honour, but the precepts
and example of the blessed Jesus, the model and the
motive of his conduct. He inculcates, (as occasion
Let. 10. Letters to a Nobleman. 4!29
offers,) the great truths of religion in his conversation,
and demonstrates them by his practice ; yet the best
part of his life is known only to God and himself. His
time is divided between serving his country in public,
and wrestling for it in private. Nor shall his labours
or his prayers be lost. Either he shall have the desire
of his heart, and shall see the religion and the liberty
he so highly values transmitted to posterity ; or, if he
should live when wrath is decreed, and there is no re-
medy, the promise and the providence of God shall seal
him as the peculiar charge of angels, in the midst of
public calamity. And when all things are involved in
confusion, when the hearts of the wicked shall shake
like the leaves of the forest, he shall be kept in perfect
peace, trusting in the Lord.
I am, with the greatest deference, &c.
Ui
LETTER X.
iMy Lord, March— 177:
SUALLY for some days before I purpose writing
to your lordship, my thoughts are upon the stretch for
a subject ; I do not mean all day long, but it is so more
or less : but I might as well spare my inquiries; I can
come to no determination, and for the most part begin
to write at an absolute uncertainty how I am to proceed.
Since I cannot premeditate, my heart prays that it may
be given me in the same hour what I shall offer. A
simple dependence upon the teaching and influence of
the good Spirit of God, so as not to supersede the use
of appointed means, . would, if it could be uniformly
maintained, make every part of duty easy and success-
ful. It would free us from much solicitude, and pre-
430 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 10.
vent many mistakes. — Methinks I have a subject in vievv
already, a subject of great importance to myself, and
which perhaps will not be displeasing to your lordship:
How to walk with God in the daily occurrences of life,
so as to do every thing for his sake and by his strength.
When we are justified by faith, and accepted in the
Beloved, we become heirs of everlasting life ; but we
cannot know the full value of our privileges till we en-
ter upon the state of glory. For this, most who are
converted have to wait some time after they are par-
takers of grace. Though the Lord loves them, hates
sin, and teaches them to hate it, he appoints them to
remain a while in a sinful world, and to groan under the
burden of a depraved nature. He could put them in
immediate possession of the heaven for which he has
given them a meetness, but he does not. He has a
service for them here, an honour which is worth all they
can suffer, and for which eternity 'will not afford an op-
portunity, namely, to be instruments of promoting his
designs, and manifesting his grace in the world. Strictly
speaking, this is the whole of our business here, the only
reason why life is prolonged, or for ^vhich it is truly
desirable, that we may fill up our connexions and situa-
tions, improve our comforts and our crosses, in such a
manner as that God may be glorified in us and by
us. As he is a bountiful Master and a kind Father,
he is pleased to afford a variety of temporal blessings,
which sweeten our service, and as coming from his hand
are very valuable, but are by no means worth living for,
considered in themselves, as they can neither satisfy our
desires, preserve us from trouble, or su])port us under it.
That light of God's countenance, which can pervade the
walls and dissipate the gloom of a dungeon, is unspeak-
ably preferable to all that can be enjoyed in a palace
Let. 10. Letters to a Nobleman. 431
without it. The true end of life is, to live not to our-
selves, but to him who died for us ; and while we devote
ourselves to his service upon earth, to rejoice in the pro-
spect of being happy with him for ever in heaven. These
things are generally known and acknowledged by pro-
fessors ; but they are 2ifan)oured few who act consist-
ently with their avowed principles ; who honestly, dili-
gently, and without reserve, endeavour to make the most
of their talents and strength in promoting the Lord's ser-
vice, and allow themselves in no views or designs but
what are plainly subordinate and subservient to it. Yea,
I believe the best of the Lord's servants see cause enough
to confess, that they are not only unproti table in com-
parison of what they wish to be, but in many instances
unfaithful likewise. They find so many snares, hin-
drances, and temptations, arising from without, and so
much embarrassment from sin A\hich dwells within, that
they have more cause for humiliation than self-compla-
cence, w hen they seem most earnest and most useful.
HoAvever, we have no Scriptural evidence that we serve the
Lord at all, any further than we find an hal)itual desire
and aim to serve him wholly. He is gracious to our im-
perfections and weakness ; yet he requires all the heart,
and will not be served by halves, nor accept what is
performed by a divided spirit. I lately met with some
profane scoifs of Voltaire upon the sentiment of doing
all to the glory of God, (such as might be expected
from such a man ;) however, this is the true alchymy
which turns every thing to gold, and ennobles the com-
mon actions of life into acts of religion, 1 Cor. x. 3L
Nor is there a grain of real goodness in the most specious
actions which are performed without a reference to God's
glory. This the world cannot understand ; but it will
appear hishlv reasonable to those Avho take tlieir ideas
Vol. L " 3 K
432 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 10.
of God from the Scripture, and who have felt the ne-
cessity, and found the benefits of redemption. We are
debtors many ways. The Lord has a right to us by
creation, by redemption, by conquest, when he freed us
from Satan's power, and took possession of our hearts
by his grace ; and lastly, by our own voluntary surrender
in the day when he enabled us to fix our choice on him-
self, as our Lord and our portion. Then we felt the
force of our obligations, Me saw the beauty and honour
of his service, and that nothing was worthy to stand in the
least degree of competition with it. This is always
equally true though our perceptions of it are not always
equally strong. But where it has been once really
known, it cannot be wholly forgotten, or cease to be the
governinjT principle of life; and the Lord has promised
to revive the impression in those who wait upon him, and
thereby to renew their strength. For in proportion as
we feel by what ties we are his, we shall embrace his
service as perfect freedom.
Again, when the eye is thus single, the whole body
will be full of light. The principle of acting simply for
God, will in general make the path of duty plain, solve
a thousand otherwise dubious questions, lead to the most
proper and obvious means, and preclude that painful
anxiety about events, which upon no other plan can be
avoided. The love of God is the best casuist; especially
as it leads us to a careful attendance to his precepts, a
reliance on his promises, and a submission to his will.
Most of our perplexities arise from an undue, though
perhaps unperceived, attachment to self. Either we
have some scheme of our own too closely connected
with our general view of serving the Lord, or lay some
stress upon our own management, which though we sus-
pect it may possibly fail us, we cannot entirely help
Let. 11. Letters to a Nobleman. 43S
trusting to. In these respects the Lord permits his ser-
vants occasionally to feel their own weakness; but if they
are sincerely devoted to him, he will teach them to pro-
fit by it, and bring them by degrees to a simplicity of
dependence, as well as of intention. Then all things
are easy. Acting from love, and walking by faith, they
can neither be disappointed or discouraged. Duty is
their part, care is his, and they are enabled to cast it
upon him. They know that when their expedients seem
to fail, he is still all-sufficient. They know that, being
engaged in his cause, they cannot miscarry ; and that,
though in some things they may seem to fall short of
success, they are sure of meeting acceptance, and that he
will estimate their services, not by their actual effects,
but according to the gracious principle and desire he has
put into their hearts, 2 Chron. vi. 7, 8.
I am, &c.
LETTER XI.
My Lord, June — 1773.
.Y old cast-off acquaintance, Horace, occasionally
came in my way this morning. — I opened it upon lib. 3.
od. 29. Did I not know the proposal to be utterly im-
practicable, how gladly should I imitate it, and send
your lordship, in honest prose, if not in elegant verse,
an invitation. But I must content myself with the idea
of the pleasure it would give me to sit with you half a
day under my favourite great tree, and converse with
you, not concerningthe comparatively petty affairs of hu-
man governments, but of the things pertaining to the king-
dom of God. How many delightful subjects would sug-
gest themselves in a free and retired conversation, The
434 Letters to a ISobicman. Let. 11.
excellency of our King, the permanency and glory of his
kingdom, the beauty of his administration, the privileges
of his subjects, the review of what he has done for us,
and the prospect of what he has prepared for us
in future ; — and if, w hile we were conversing, he
should be pleased to join us, (as he did the disciples
when walking to Emmaus,) how would our hearts burn
within us ! Indeed, whether we are alone or in com-
pany, the most interesting topics strike us but faintly,
unless he is pleased to afford his gracious influence; but
M hen he is present, light, love, liberty, and joy, spring
up in the hearts that know him. — This reminds me, (as
I have mentioned Horace,) to restore some beautiful lines
to their proper application. They are impious and idol-
atrous as he uses them, but have an expressive propriety
in the mouth of a believer : —
Lucem redde tu£^ Dux bone-^fialriiz^
Instar veris enim vultus ubi tuus
Jlffulsit fiofiulo^ gratior it Dies
£t Soles melius vitent.
But we cannot meet. All that is left for me, is to
use the liberty you allow me of offering a few hints upon
these subjects by letter, not because you know them
not, but because you love them. The hour is coming,
■when all impediments shall be removed. — All distinc-
tions shall cease that are founded upon sublunary things,
and the earth and all its M'orks shall be burnt up.
Glorious day ! May our souls be filled with the thought,
and learn to estimate all things around us nou\ by the
view in which they will appear to us then. Then it will
be of small moment who was the prince, and who was
the beggar in this life; — but who in their several situa-
tions, sought, and loved, and feared, and honoured the
I^et. 11. Letters to a Nobleman. 435
Lord. Alas ! how many of the kings of the earth, and
the rich men, and the chief captains, and the might}^
men, will then say, (in vain,) to the mountains and the
rocks. Fall on us, and hide us ! In this world they are
for the most part too busy to regard the commands of
God, or too happy to seek his favour ; they have their
good things here ; they please themselves for a while,
and in a moment they go down to the grave : in that
moment their thoughts perish, their schemes are left un-
finished, they are torn from their possessions, and enter
upon a new, an untried, an unchangeable, a never-end-
ins: state of existence. Alas, is this all the world can
afford ! I congratulate you, my lord, not because God
has appointed you to appear in an elevated rank, (this,
abstracted from the opportunity it affords you of greater
usefulness, would perhaps be a more proper subject for
condolence ;) but that he has admitted you to those ho-
nours and privileges which come from him only, and
which so few in the superior ranks of life think worthy of
their attention. I doubt not but you are often affected
with a sense of this distinguishing mercy. But though
we know that we are debtors, great debtors to the grace
of God, which alone has made us to differ, we know it
but imperfectly at present. It doth not yet appear
what we shall be, nor can we form a just conception of
the misery from which we are redeemed, much less of
the price paid for our redemption. How little do we
know of the Redeemer's dignity, and of the unutterable
distress he endured wl^en his soul was made an offering
for sin, and it pleased the Father to bruise him, that by
his stripes we might be healed. These things will
strike us quite in another manner, when we view them
in the li^ht of eternity. Then, to return to the thought
from which I have rambled, then and there I trust we
'i3G Letters to a Noblevian. Let. 11.
shall meet to the highest advantage, and spend an ever-
lasting day together in happiness and praise. With this
thou2;ht I endeavour to comfort myself, under the regret
I sometimes feel that I can have so little intercourse
\vith 3'ou in this life.
i\Iay the cheering contemplation of the hope set be-
fore us, support and animate us to improve the interval,
and fill us with an holy ambition of shining as lights in
the world, to the praise and glorv of his grace who has
called us out of darkness. Encompassed as we are
with snares, temptations, and infirmities, it is possible,
(by his promised assistance,) to live in some good mea-
sure above the world while we are in it ; above the in-
fluence of its cares, its smiles, or its frowns. Our con-
versation, TToAtTsu/^a, our citizenship is in heaven. V,e
are not at home, but only resident here for a season, to
fulfil an appointed service ; and the Lord, whom we
serve, has encouraged us to hope, that he will guide us
by his wisdom, strengthen us by his power, and com-
fort us with the light of his countenance, which is better
than life. Every blessing we receive from him is a
token of his favour, and a pledge of that far more ex-
ceeding and eternal weight of glory which he has re-
served for us. O ! to hear him say at last, Well done,
good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy
Lord ! will be a rich amends for all that we can lose,
suffer, or forbear, for his sake.
I subscribe myself, with great sincerity, &c.
Let. 1-2. Letters to a Nobleman. 437
LETTER XII.
My Lord, February — \77A.
X HE first line of Horace's epistle to Agustus, when
rightly applied, suggests a grand and cheering idea. As
addressed by the poet, nothing can be more blasphem-
ous, idolatrous, and al)surd ; but with what comfort and
propriety may a Christian look up to Him, to whom all
power is committed in heaven and earth, and say, Cum
tot sustineas et tanta negotia Solus ! Surely a more
weighty and comprehensive sentence never dropped
from an uninspired pen. And how beautifully and ex-
pressively is it closed by the w ord solus ! The govern-
ment is upon his shoulders ; and though he is concealed
by a veil of second causes from common eyes, so that
they can perceive only the means, instruments, and con-
tingencies by which he works, and therefore think he
does nothing ; yet, in reality, he does all., according to
his ow n counsel and pleasure, in the armies of heaven,
and among the inhabitants of the earth.
Who can enumerate the Tot et tanta negotia, which
fire incessantly before his eye, adjusted by his wisdom^
dependent on his will, and regulated by his power, in
his kingdoms of providence and grace? If we consider
the heavens, the work of his fingers, the moon and the
stars which he has ordained ; if we call in the assistance
of astronomers and glasses to help us in forming a con-
ception of the number, distances, magnitudes, and mo-
tions of the heavenly bodies ; the more we search, the
more we shall be confirmed, that these are but a por-
tion of his ways. — But he calls them all by their names,
upholds them hv his power, and v.ithoiit his continual
438 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 12.
energy they would rush into confusion, or sink into no-
thing. If we speak of intelligences, he is the life, the
joy, the sun of all that are capable of happiness. What-
ever may be signified by the thrones, principalities, and
powers in the world of light, they are all dependent
upon his power, and obedient to his command ; it is
equally true of angels as of men, that without him they
can do nothing. The powers of darkness are likewise
under his subjection and control. Though but little is
said of them in Scripture, we read enough to assure us
that their number must be immensely great, and that
their strength, subtley, and malice, are such as w^e may
tremble to think of them as our enemies, and probably
should, but for our strange insensibility to whatever does
not fall under the cognizance of our outward senses.
But he holds them all in a chain, so that they can do or
attempt nothing but by his permission ; and whatever
he permits them to do, (though they mean nothing less,)
has its appointed subserviency in accomplishing his
designs.
But to come nearer home, and to speak of what
seems more suited to our scanty apprehensions, — still
we may be lost in wonder. Before this blessed and
only Potentate, all the nations of the earth are but as
the dust upon the balance, and the small drop of a
bucket, and might be thought, (if compared with the
immensity of his works,) scarcely worthy of his notice;
yet here he presides, pervades, provides, protects, and
rules In him his creatures live, move, and have their
being : from him is their food and preservation. The
eyes of all are upon him : what he gives they gather,
and can gather no more : and at his word they sink
into the dust. There is not a worm that crawls upon
the ground, or a flower that grows in the pathless wil-
Let. 12. Letters to a Noblenuin. 439
derness, or a shell upon the sea shore, but bears the
impress of his wisdom, power, and goodness. With
respect to men, he reigns with uncontrolled dominion
over every kingdom, family, and individual. Here we
may be astonished at his wisdom in employing free
agents, the greater part of whom are his enemies, to ac-
complish his purposes. But, however reluctant, they
all serve him. His patience likewise is w^onderful. —
Multitudes, yea, nearly our whole species, spend the
life and strength which he affords them, and abuse all
the bounties he heaps upon them, in the ways of sin.
His commands are disregarded, his name blasphemed,
his mercy disdained, his power defied, yet still he
spares. It is an eminent part of his government, to
restrain the depravity of human nature, and in various
ways to check its effects, which, if left to itself with-
out his providential control, would presently make
earth the very image of hell. For the vilest men are
not ^suffered to perpetrate a thousandth part of the
evil which their hearts would prompt them to. The
earth, though lying in the \ncked one, is filled with the
goodness of the Lord. He prcscrveth man and beast,
sustains the young lion in the forest, feeds the birds of
the air, which have neither storehouse nor barn, and
adorns the insects and the flowers of the field with a
beauty and elegance beyond all that can be found in
the courts of kinss.
Still more wonderful is his administration in his king-
dom of grace. He is present with all his creatures, but
in a peculiar manner with his own people. Eacii of
these are monuments of a more illustrious display of
power, than that which spread abroad the heavens like
a curtain, and laid the foundations of the earth ; for he
Vol. I. 3 L
4-10 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 12.
finds them all in a state of rebellion and enmity, and
makes them a willing people ; and from the moment he
reveals his love to them, he espouses their cause, and
takes all their concerns into his hands. He is near
and attentive to every one of them, as if there was only
that one. This high and lofty One, who inhabits eter-
nity, before whom the angels vail their faces, conde-
scends to hold communion with those whom men de-
spise. He sees not as man seeth — rides on a cloud
disdainful by a sultan or a czar, to manifest himself to
an humble soul in a mud-walled cottage. He comforts
them when in trouble, strengthens them when weak,
makes their beds in sickness, revives them when faint-
ing, upholds them when falling, and so seasonably and
effectually manages for them, that though they are perse-
cuted and tempted, though their enemies are many and
mighty, nothing that they feel or fear is able to sepa-
rate them from his love.
i\nd all this He does solus. All the abilities, powers,
and instincts, that are found amongst creatures, are
emanations from his fullness. All changes, successes,
disappointments — all that is memorable in the annals of
history, all the risings and falls of empires, all the turns
in human life, take place according to his plan. In
vain men contrive and combine to accomplish their own
counsels, unless they are parts of his counsel likewise ;
the efforts of their utmost strength and wisdom arc
crossed and reversed by the feeblest and most un-
thought-of circumstances. But when he has a work to
accomplish, and his time is come, however inadequate
and weak the means he employs may seem to a carnal
eye, the success is infallibly secured; for all things serve
him, and are in his hands as clay in the hands of the
Let. 12. Letters to a Noblevmn. 441
potter. Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord
God Almighty ! just and true are thy ways, thou King
of saints !
This is the God whom we adore. This is he who in-
vites us to lean upon his almighty arm, and promises to
guide us with his unerring eye. He says to you, my
lord, and even to me, " Fear not, I am with thee ; be
** not dismayed, I am thy God ; I will strengthen thee,
" yea, I will help thee, yea, I will uphold thee, with the
*' right hand of my righteousness." Therefore, while in
the path of duty, and following his call, we may cheer-
fully pass on, regardless of apparent difficulties ; for the
Lord, whose we are, and who has taught us to make
his glory our highest end, will go before us, and at his
word crooked things become straight, light shines out of
darkness, and mountains sink into plains. Faith may
and must be exercised, experience must and will confirm
what his word iteclares, that the heart is deceitful, and
that man in his best estate is vanity. But his promises
to them that fear him shall be confirmed likewise, and
they shall find him, in all situations, a sun, a shield,
and an exceeding great reward.
I have lost another of my people ; a mother in our
Israel ; a person of much experience, eminent grace,
wisdom, and usefulness. She walked with God forty
years : she was one of the Lord's poor ; but her po-
verty vvas decent, sanctified, and honourable. She lived
respected, and her death is considered as a public loss.
It is a great loss to me : I shall miss her advice and
example, by which I have been often edified and ani-
mated. But Jesus still lives. Almost her last words
were, '■' The Lord is my portion, saith my soul."
I am, Slc.
443 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 13.
LETTER Xin.
My Lord, March 10, \77i.
X OR about six weeks past, I have had occasion to
spend several hours of ahnost every day with the sick
and the dying. These scenes are to a minister like
walking the hospitals to a young surgeon. The various
cases which occur exemplify, illustrate, and explain,
with a commanding energy, many truths, which may be
learned indeed at home, but cannot be so well under-
stood, or their force so sensibly felt, without the ad-
vantage of experience and observation. As physicians,
besides that competent general knowledge of their pro-
fession which should be common to them all, have
usually their several favourite branches of study, some
applying themselves more to l)otany, others to che-
mistry, others to anatomy ; so ministers, as their incli-
nations and gifts differ, are led more closely to consi-
der some particular branch of the system of divine
truth. Some are directed to state and defend the doc-
trines of the Gospel ; some have a talent for eluci-
dating difficult texts of Scripture ; some have a turn for
explaining the prophetical parts, and so of the rest. —
For myself, if it be lawful to speak of myself, and so
far as I can judge, anatomy is my favourite branch : I
mean the study of the human heart, with its workings
and counter-workings, as it is differently affected in a
state of nature or of grace, in the different seasons of
prosperity, adversity, conviction, temptation, sickness,
and the approach of death. The Lord, by sending me
hither, provided me a good school for these purj)oscs.
I know not where I could have had a better, or afford-
Let. 13. Letters to a Noblenum. 448
ing a greater variety of characters, in proportion to the
number of people ; and as they are mostly a poor peo-
ple, and strangers to that address which is the result of
education and converse with the world, there is a sim-
plicity in what they say or do, which gives me a peculiar
advantage in iudgincr of their cases.
But I was about to speak of death. Though the
grand evidence of those truths upon which our hopes
are built, arises from the authority of God speaking
them in his word, and revealing them by his Spirit to
the awakened heart, (for till the heart is awakened, it is
incapable of receiving this evidence ij) yet some of these
truths are so mysterious, so utterly repugnant to the
judgment of depraved nature, that, through the re-
maining influence of unbelief and vain reasoning, the
temptations of Satan, and the subtle arguments with
which some men reputed wise, attack the foundations
of our faith, the minds even of believers are sometimes
capable of being shaken. I know no better corroborat-
ing evidence for the relief of the mind under such as-
saults than the testimony of dying persons, especially
of such as have lived out of the noise of controvers}-,
and who perhaps never heard a syllable of what has
been started in these evil days against the Deity of
Christ, his atonement, and other important articles.
Permit me, my lord, to relate, upon this occasion, some
things which exceedingly struck me in the conversation
I had with a young woman, \\hom I visited in her last
illness, about two years ago. She w as a sober, prudent
person, of plain sense, could read her Bible, but had
read little beside. Her knowledge of the world was
nearly confined to the parish ; for, I suppose, she was
seldom, if ever, twelve miles from home in her life. She
had known the Gospel about seven years before the Lord
444 Letters to a Nobleman. Let 13.
visited her with a lingering consumption, which at
length removed her to a better world. A iew days be-
fore her death, I had been praying by her bed-side, and
in my prayer I thanked the Lord that he gave her now
to see that she had not followed cunningly-devised fa-
bles. When I had finished, she repeated that word,
"No," she said, "not cunningly-devised fables : these are
" realities indeed; I feel their truth; I feel their comfort.
" O tell my friends, tell my acquaintance, tell inquiring
" souls, tell poor sinners, tell all the daughters of Jeru-
" salem, (alluding to Solomon's Song, v. 16. from which
" she had just before desired me to preach at her fune-
" ral,) what Jesus has done for my soul. Tell them, that
" now, in the time of need, I find him my beloved and
" my friend, and as such I commend him to them."
She then fixed her eyes steadfastly upon me, and pro-
ceeded, as well as I can recollect, as follows : " Sir,
"you are highly favoured in being called to preach the
" Gospel. I have often heard you with pleasure; but
"give me leave to tell you, that I now see all you
" have said, or can sa}-, is, comparatively, but little.
" Nor till you come into my situation, and have death
" and eternity full in your view, will it be possible for
"you to conceive the vast weight and importance of
" the truths you declare. Oh, sir, it is a serious thing
"' to die ! No words can express what is needful to sup-
" port the soul in the solemnity of a dying hour."
I believe it was the next day when I visited her
again. After some discourse as usual, she said, with
a remarkable vehemence of speech, " Are you sure I
" cannot be mistaken r" I answered without hesita-
tion, " Yes, I am sure ; I am not afraid to say, uiy
" soul for yours, that you are right." She paused a
little, and then replied, " You say true; I know I am
Let. 13. Letters to a Nobleman. 445
" right. I feel that my hope is fixed upon the Rock of
" ages : I know in whom I have believed. Yet if you
*' could see with my eyes, you would not wonder at my
*' question. But the approach of death presents a pro-
'' spect, which is till then hidden from us, and which
"cannot be described." She said much more to the
same purpose, and in all she spoke there was a dig-
nity, weight, and evidence, which I suppose few pro-
fessors of divinity, when lecturing from the chair, have
at any time equalled. We may well say with Elihu,
Who teacheth like him ? JMany instances of the like
kind I have met with here. I have a poor girl near
me, who looks like an ideot, and her natural capacity is
indeed very small ; but the Lord has been pleased to
make her acquainted alternately with great temptations,
and proportionably great discoveries of his love and
truth. Sometimes, when her heart is enlarged, I lis-
ten to her with astonishment. I think no books or
ministers I ever met with have given me such an impres-
sion and understanding of what the apostle styles -ra j8«Su
Tou 0£ot>, as I have upon some occasions received from
her conversation.
But I am rambling again. IVIy attendance upon the
sick is not always equally comfortable, but could I learn
aright, it might be equally instructive. Some confirm
the preciousness of a Saviour to me, by the cheerfulness
with which, through faith in his name, they meet the
king of terrors. Others no less confirm it, by the ter-
ror and reluctance they discover when they find they
must die ; for though there are too many m ho sadly
slight the blessed Gospel Avhile they are in health, yet
in this place most are too far enlightened to be quite
thoughtless about their souls, if they retain their senses
446 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 13.
in their last illness. Then, like the foolish virgins, they
sa}^, Give us of your oil. Then they are willing that
ministers and professors should pray with them, and
speak to them. Through the Lord's goodness, several
whom I have visited in these circimistances have af-
forded me good hope : they have been savingly changed
by his blessing upon what has passed at the eleventh
hour. I have seen a marvellous and blessed change
take place in their language, views, and tempers, in a
few days. I now visit a young person, who is cut short
in her nineteenth year, by a consumption, and I think
cannot live many days. I found her very ignorant and
insensible, and she remained so a good while ; but of
late I hope her heart is touched. She feels her lost state,
she seems to have some right desires, she begins to
pray, and in such a manner as I cannot but hope the
Lord is teaching her, and will reveal himself to her be-
fore she departs. But it is sometimes otherwise. I
saw a young woman die last week : I had been often
with her; but the night she was removed, she could
only say, O, I cannot live ! I cannot live ! She repeated
this mournftd complaint as long as she could speak ;
for as the vital powers Mere more oppressed, her voice
was changed into groans : her groans grew fainter and
fainter, and in about a quarter of an hour after she had
done speaking, she expired. Poor thing, 1 thought as
I stood by her bed-side, if you were a duchess, in this
situation, what could the world do for you now ! I
thought likewise how many things are there that now
give us pleasure or pain, and assume a mighty import-
ance in our view, which, in a dying hour, will be no
more to us than the clouds which tiy unnoticed over our
heads. Then the truth of our Lord's aphorism will be
Let. 14. Letters to a Nobleman. 4i'%7
seen, felt, and acknowledged, " One thing is needful ;"
and we shall be ready to apply Grotius's dying confes-
sion to (alas !) a great part of our lives, Ah xntamperdi-
d'l, nihil agendo laboriose.
Your lordship allows me to send unpremeditated let-
ters. I need not assure you this is one. -
I am, &c.
LETTER XIV.
My Lord, May 24, 1774.
HAT a mercy is it to be separated in spirit, con-
versation, and interest, from the world that knows not
God! Where all are alike by nature, grace makes a hap-
py and unspeakable difference. Believers were once un-
der the same influence of that spirit who still worketh
in the children of disobedience, pursuing different paths,
but all equally remote from truth and peace ; some
ha:tching cockatrice eggs, others weaving spiders' webs.
These two general heads of mischief and vanity, include
all the schemes, aims, and achievements of which man
-is capable, till God is pleased to visit the heart with his
grace. The busy part of mankind are employed in
multiplying evils and miseries ; the more retired, specu-
lative, and curious, are amusing theniselves with what
will hereafter appear as unsubstantial, unstable, and
useless as a cobweb. Death will soon sweep away all
that the philosophers, the virtuosi, the mathematicians,
the antiquarians, and other learned tritlers, are now
weaving with so much self-applauded address. Nor
will the fine-spun dresses, in wiiich the moralist and the
self-righteous clothe themselves, be of more advantage,
-to them, either for ornament or defence, than the pro*»
Vol. I. 3 M
44S Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 14.
duce of a spider. But it is given to a few to know
their present state and future destination. These build
upon the immovable Rock of ages for eternity : these
are trees springing from a living Root, and bear the fruits
of righteousness, which are by Jesus Christ, to the
glory and praise of God. These only are awake, while
the rest of the world are in a sleep, indulging in vain
dreams, from which likewise they will shortly awake ;
but, O with what consternation, when they shall find
themselves irrecoverably divorced from all their delu-
sive attachments, and compelled to appear before that
God to whom they have lived strangers, and to whom
they must give an account ! O for a thousand tongues
to proclaim in the ears of thoughtless mortals that im-
portant aphorism of our Lord, " One thing is needful!"'
Yet a thousand tongues would be, and are employed
in vain, unless so far as the Lord is pleased to send the
watchman's warning, by the power and agency of his
own Spirit. I think the poet tells us, that Cassandra
had the gift of truly foretelling future events ; but she
was afterwards laid under a painful embarrassment,
that nobody would believe her words. Such, with re-
spect to the bulk of their auditories, is the lot of Gospel-
ministers : they are enlightened to see, and sent forth
to declare, the awful consequences of sin ; but, alas,
how few believe their report I'To* illustrate our grief
and disappointment, I sometimes suppose there was a
danserous water in the wav of travellers, over which
there is a bridge, which those who can be prevailed
upon, may pass with safety. By the side of this bridge
watchmen are placed, to warn passengers of the danger
of the waters ; to assure them, that all who attempt to
go through them inevitably perish ; to invite, entreat,
and beseech them, if they value their lives, to cross the
Let. 14. Letters to a NobUman. 449
bridge. IMethinks this should be an easy task : yet if
we should see, in fact, the greater part stopping their
ears to the friendly importunity, many so much offended
by it as to account the watchman's care impertinent,
and only deserving of scorn and ill treatment, hardly
one in fifty betaking themselves to the friendly bridge,
the rest eagerly plunging into the waters, from which
none return, as if they were determined to try who
should be drowned first : this spectacle would be no
unfit emblem of tlie reception the Gospel meets witli
from a blinded world. The ministers are rejected, op-
posed, vilified ; they are accounted trou biers of the
world, because they dare not, cannot stand silent, while
sinners are perishing before their eyes ; and if, in the
course of many sermons, they can prevail but on one
soul to take timely warning, and to seek to Jesus, who
is the way, the truth, and the life, they may account it
a mercy and an honour, sufficient to overbalance all the
labour and reproaches they are called to endure. From
the most they must expect no better reception than the
Jews gave to Jeremiah, M'ho told the prophet to his
face, " As to the word thou hast spoken to us in the
" name of the Lord, we will not hearken to thee at all;
" but we will certainly do whatsoever thing goeth forth
" out of our own mouth." Surely, if the Lord has
given us any sense of the worth of our souls, any com-
passion towards them, this must be a painful exercise ;
and experience must teach us sometiiing of the mean-
ing of Jeremiah's pathetic exclamation, " O that my
" head were waters, and mine eyes fountains of tears
*' that I might weep day and night, for the slain of the
" daughter of my people !"' It is our duty to be thus
affected. Our relief lies in the wisdom and sovereignty
of God. lie reveals his salvation to whom he pleases,
450 Letters to a Nobieman. Let. 14.
for the most part to babes; from the bulk of the wise and
the prudent it is hidden. Thus it hath pleased him, and
therefore it must be right. Yea, he will one day condescend
tojustify the propriety and equity of his proceedings to his
creatures ; then evxry mouth will be stopped, and none
will be able to reply against their Judge. Liijht is come
into the world, but men prefer darkness. They hate
the light, resist it, and rebel against it. It is true, all
do so ; and therefore, if all were to perish under the
condemnation, their ruin would be their own act. It is
of grace that any are saved, and in the distribution of
that grace, he does w hat he will with his own : a right
which most are ready enough to claim in their own con-
cerns, though they arc so unwilling to allow it to the
Lord of all. Many perplexing and acrimonious dis-
putes have been started upon this subject; but the
redeemed of the Lord are called, not to dispute, but
to admire and rejoice ; to love, adore, and obey. To
know that he loved us, and gave himself for us, is the
constraining argument and motive to love him, and sur-
render ourselves to him ; to consider ourselves, as no
longer our own, but to devote ourselves, with every fa-
culty, power, and talent, to his service and glory. He
deserves our all ; for he parted with all for us. He
made himself poor, he endured shame, torture, death,
and the curse for us, that we through him might inherit
everlasting life. Ah ! the hardness of my heart, that I
am no more affected, astonished, overpowered, w'\\.h.
this thought !
I am, &c.
Let. 15. Letters to a Nobleman. 451
LETTER XV.
My Lord, April 20, 1774.
A HAVE been pondering a good while for a subject^
and at last I begin without one, hoping that, (as it has
often happened,) while I am writing one line, something
will occur to fill up another. Indeed, I have an inex-
haustible fund at hand ; but it is to me often like a
prize in the hand of a fool, I want skill to improve it.
O for a warm, a suitable, a seasonable train of thought
that might enliven my own heart, and not be unworthy
your lordship's perusal ! Methinks the poets can have
but cold comfort, when they invocate a fabled muse;
but we have a warrant, a right, to look up for the in-
fluence of the Holy Spirit, who ordains strength for us,
and has promised to work in us. What a comfort,
what an honour is this, that worms have liberty to look
up to God ! and that he, the high and holy One who
inhabiteth eternity, is pleased to look down upon us, to
maintain our peace, to supply our wants, to guide us
with his eye, and to inspire us with wisdom and grace
suitable to our occasions ! They who profess to know
something of this intercourse, and to depend upon it,
are, by the world, accounted enthusiasts, who know not
what they mean ; or perhaps hypocrites, who pretend
to what they have not, in order to cover some base de-
signs.'— But we have reason to bear their reproaches
with patience. Could the miser say,
Pofndiis me dbilat, at mihi jilaudo
Ifise domiy shmtl ac numinos contemfdor in area.
4i52 Letters to a NoOleman. Let. 15,
Well then may the believer say, Let them laugh, let
them rage, let them, if they please, point at me for
a fool as I walk the streets : if I do but take up the
Bible, or run over in my mind the inventory of the
blessings with which the Lord has enriched me, I have
sufficient amends. Jesus is mine ; in him I have
wisdom, righteousness, sanctification^ and redemption,
an interest in all the promises and in all the perfec-
tions of God ; he will guide me by his counsel, sup-
port me by his power, comfort me with his presence,
while I am here, and afterwards, when flesh and heart
fail, he will receive me to his glory.
Let them say what they will, they shall not dispute
or laugh us out of our spiritual senses. If all the blind
men in the kingdom should endeavour to bear me
down, that the sun is not bright, or that the rainbow
has no colours, I would still believe my own eyes. I
have seen them both ; they have not. I cannot prove
to their satisfaction what I assert, because they are des-
titute of sight, the necessary medium ; yet their excep-
tions produce no uncertainty in my mind : they would
not, they could not hesitate a moment, if they were not
blind. Just so, they who have been taught of God,
who have tasted that the Lord is gracious, have an ex-
perimental perception of the truth, which renders them
proof against all the sophistry of infidels. I am per-
suaded we have many plain people here, who, if a wise
man of the world was to su2;£fest that the Bible is a hu-
man invention, would be quite at a loss how to answer
him by arguments drawn from external evidences ; yet
they have found such effects from tliis blessed book,
that they would be no more moved by the insinuation
than if they were told, that a cunning man, or set of men,
invented the sun, and placed it in the firmament. So,
Let. 15. Letters to a Nobleman. 453
if a wise Socinian was to tell them that the Saviour was
onl}'^ a man like themselves, they would conceive just
such an opinion of his skill in divinity, as a philoso-
pher would do of a clown's skill in astronomy, who
should aliirm that the sun was no bi^crer than a cart-
wheel.
It remains therefore a truth, in defiance of all the
cavils of the ignorant, that the Holy Spirit does in-
fluence the hearts of all the children of God, or in other
w ords, they are inspired, not with new^ revelations, but
with grace and wisdom, to understand, apply, and feed
upon the great things already revealed in the Scriptures,
without which the Scriptures are as useless as spectacles
to tlie blind. "Were it not so, when v.e become ac-
quainted with the poverty, ignorance, arxd wickedness
of our hearts, we must sit down in utter despair of
being ever able to think a good thought, to offer a sin-
gle petition aright in prayer, or to take one safe step in
the path of life. But now we may be content with our
proper weakness, since the power and spirit of Christ
are engaged to rest upon us ; and while we are pre-
served in a simple dependence upon this help, though
unable of ourselves to do any thing, we shall find an
ability to do every thing that our circumstances and
duty call for. What is weaker than a worm ? Yet the
Lord's worms shall, in his strength, thresh the moun-
tains, and make the hills as chaff. But this life of
faith, this living and acting by a power above our own,
is an inexplicable mystery, till experience makes it
plain. I have often wondered that St. Paul has ob-
tained so much quarter at the hands of some people, as
to pass with them for a man of sense ; for surely the
greatest part of his writings must be, to the last degree,
4*54 Letters to a Nobleman. l^et. 15.
absurd and unintelligible upon their principles. How-
many contradictions must they find, for instance, if they
give any attention to what they read in that one pas-
sage, Gal. ii. 20. " I am crucified with Christ : never-
" theless I live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and
'' the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by faith
" in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself
^^ for me."
And as believers are thus inspired by the Holy
Spirit, who furnishes them with desires, motives, and
abilities, to perform what is agreeable to his will ; so I
apprehend, that they who live without God in the
world, whom the apostle styles sensual, not having the
Spirity are, in a greater or less degree, ad captum reci-
pient is, under what I may call a black inspiration. —
After making the best allowances I can, both for the
extent of human genius, and the deplorable evil of the
human heart, I cannot suppose that one half of the
wicked wit, of which some persons are so proud, is pro-
perly their own. Perhaps such a one as Voltaire
would neither have written, or have been read or ad-
mired so much, if he had not been the amanuensis of
an abler hand in his own way. Satan is alwavs near
when the heart is disposed to receive him ; and the
Lord withdraws his restraints, to heighten the sinner's
ability of sinning with an eclat, and assisting him with
such strokes of blasphemy, malice, and falsehood, as
perhaps he could not otherwise have attained. There-
fore I do not wonder that they are clever and smart,
that they raise a laugh, and are received with applause
amoni! those who are like-minded with themselves. But
unless the Lord is pleased to grant them repentance,
(though it is rather to be feared some of them are given
Let. 15. Letters to a Nobleman. 455
up to judicial hardness of heart,) how much better
Avould it have been for them had they been born idiots
or lunatics, than to be distinguished as the willing,
industrious, and successful instruments of the powers
of darkness, in beguiling, perverting, and ruining the
souls of men ! Alas, what are parts and talents, or
any distinctions which give pre-eminence in life, un-
less they are sanctified by the grace of God, and di-
rected to the accomplishment of his will and glory !
From the expression, Bind them in bundles and burn
them, 1 have been led to think, that the deceivers
and the deceived, they who have prostituted their gifts
or influence to encourage others in sin, and they who
have perished by their means, may, in another world,
have some peculiar and inseparable connexion, and
spend an eternity in fruitless lamentations, that ever
they were connected here.
Your lordship, I doubt not, feels the force of that
line,
O to grace how great a debtor I
Had not the Lord separated you for himself, your
rank, your abilities, your influence, which now you
chiefly value as enlarging your opportunities of useful-
ness, might, nay certainly would, have been diverted
into the opposite channel.
I am, &c.
Vol. I. 3 N
456 Letters to a Nobleman, Let. 16.
LETTER XVI.
My Lord, November 5, 1774.
X HAVE not very lately had recourse to the expedient
of descanting upon a text, but I believe it the best method
I can take to avoid ringing changes upon a few obvious
topics, which I suppose uiiitormly present themselves to
my mind when I am about to write to your lordship.
Just now that sweet expression of David occurred to my
thoughts, The Lord is my Shephei^d! Permit me, without
plan or premeditation, to make a few observations upon
it ; and may your lordship feel the peace, the confi-
dence, the blessedness, which a believing application
of the words is suited to inspire.
The Socinians, and others, in their unhappy laboured
attempts to darken the principal glory and foundation-
comfort of the Gospel, employ their critical sophistry
against those texts which expressly and doctrinally de-
clare the Redeemer's character; and affect to triumph,
if in any manuscript or ancient version they can find a
variation from the received copies which seems to favour
their cause. But we may venture to wave the authority
of every disputed or disputable text, and maintain the
truth against their cavils, from the current language and
tenor of the whole Scripture. David's words in Psalm
xxiii. are alone a decisive proof that Jesus is Jehovah,
if they will but allow two things, A\hich I think they
cannot deny ; — ] . That our Sav iour assumes to himself
the character of the Shepherd of his people ; — and 2.
That he did not come into the world to abridge those
advantages which the servants of God enjoyed before his
incarnation. Upon these premises, which cannot be
Let 16. Letters to a Nobleman, 457
gainsayed without setting aside the whole New Testa-
ment, the conclusion is undeniable : for if Jehovah was
David's Shepherd, unless Jesus be Jehovah, we who
live under the Gospel have an unspeakable disadvan-
tage, in being intrusted to the care of one who, ac-
cording to the Socinians, is a mere man; and, upon
the Arian scheme, is at the most a creature, and infi-
nitely short of possessing those perfections which David
contemplated in his Shepherd. He hpd a Shepherd
whose wisdom and power were infinite, and might
therefore w arrantably conclude he should not want, and
need not fear. And we also may conclude the same, if
our Shepherd be the Lord or Jehovah, but not other-
wise. Besides, the very nature of the Shepherd's office
respecting the state of such frail creatures as we are, re-
quires those attributes for the due discharge of it, which
are incommunicably divine. He must intimately know
every individual of the flock. — His eye must be upon
them every one, and his ear open to their prayers, and
his arm stretched out for their relief, in all places and
in all ages. — Every thought of every heart must be
open to his view, and his wisdom must penetrate, and
his arm control and over-rule all the hidden and com-
plicated machinations of the powers of darkness. — He
must have the administration of universal providence
over all the nations, families, and persons upon earth, or
he could not effectually manage for those who put their
trust in him, in that immense variety of cases and cir-
cumstances in which they are found. Reason, as well
as Scripture, may convince us, that he who gathereth
the outcasts of Israel, who healeth the broken in heart,
who upholdeth all that fall, raiseth up all that are bowed
down, and upon whom the eyes of all wait for their sup-
port, can be no other than he who telleth the number
458 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 10.
of the stars, and calleth them all by their names; who is
great in power, and whose understanding is infinite.
To this purpose likewise the prophet Isaiah describes
this mighty Shepherd, chap. xl. 9 — 17. both as to his
person and office.
But is not this indeed the great mystery of godliness !
How just is the apostle's observation, that no man can
say, Jesus Christ is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost !
How astonishing the thought, — that the Maker of hea-
ven and earth, the Holy One of Israel, before whose
presence the earth shook, the heavens dropped, when
he displayed a faint emblem of his INIajesty upon Sinai,
should afterwards appear in the form of a servant, and
hang upon a cross, the sport and scorn of wicked men !
I cannot wonder that to the wise men of the world this
appears absurd, unreasonable, and impossible ; yet to
right reason, to reason enlightened and sanctified, how
ever amazing the proposition be, yet it appears true and
necessary, upon a supposition, that a holy God is pleased
to pardon sinners in a way suited to display the awful
i^lories of his justice. The same arguments which prove
the blood of bulls and goats insufficient to take away
sin, w ill conclude against the utmost doings or sufferings
of men or ancrels. The Redeemer of sinners must be
mighty ; he must have a personal dignity to stamp such
a value upon his undertakings, as that thereby God
may appear just, as well as merciful, in justifying the
ungodlv for his sake ; and he must be all-sufficient to
bless, and almighty to protect, those who come unto
him for safety and life.
Such a one is our Shepherd. This is he of whom we,
through grace, are enabled to say, we are his people,
and the sheep of Ins pasture. We are his by every tie
and right; he made us, he redeemed us, he reclaimed
Let. 16. Letters to a Nobleman. 459
us from the hand of our enemies, and we are his by our
own voluntary surrender of ourselves ; for though we
once slighted, despised, and opposed him, he made us
willing in the day of his power : he knocked at the door
of our hearts; but we, (at least I,) barred and fastened
it against him as much and as long as possible. But
when he revealed his love, wx could stand out no longer.
Like sheep, we are weak, destitute, defenceless, prone
to wander, unable to return, and always surrounded
with wolves. But all is made up in the fulness, ability,
wisdom, compassion, care, and faithfulness of our great
Shepherd. He guides, protects, feeds, heals, and re-
stores, and Avill be our guide and our God even until
death. Then he will meet us, receive us, and present
us unto himself, and we shall be near him, and like him,
and with him for ever.
Ah ! my lord, what a subject is this ! I trust it is the
joy of your heart. Placed as you are by his hand in a
superior rank, you see and feel that the highest ho-
nours, and the most important concernments that ter-
minate with the present life, are trivial as the sports of
children, in comparison with the views and the privi-
leges you derive from the glorious Gospel ; and your
situation in life renders the grace bestowed upon you
the more conspicuous and distinguishing. I have some-
where met with a similar reflection of Henry the Fourth
of France, to this purpose, that though many came into
the world the same day with him, he was probably the
only one among them that was born to be a king. Your
lordship is acquainted with many, who, if not born on
the same day with you, were born to titles, estates,
and honours ; but how few of them "were born to the
honour of making a public and consistent profession of
the glorious Gospel ! The hour is coming, when all
460 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 16.
honours and possessions, but this which cometh of God
only, will be eclipsed and vanish ; and, " like the base-
" less fabric of a vision, leave not a wreck behind." How
miserable will they then be, who must leave their all !
What a mortifying thought does Horace put in the
way of those who disdain to read the Scripture ?
Liquenda telluSf et domus, et filacens
Uxor: neque harum, quas colis, arborum
Te^fireter invisan cufiressos,
Ulla brevem dominuni sequetur.
But grace and faith can make the lowest state of life
supportable, and make a dismission from the highest
desirable. Of the former I have many living proofs
and witnesses around me. Your lordship, I trusty will
have sweet experience of the latter, when, after having
fulfilled the will of God in your generation, you shall
be called, (I hope in some yet distant day,) to enter into
your Master's joy. In the mean time, how valuable
are life, talents, influence, and opportunities of every
kind, if we are enabled to improve and lay out all for
him who has thus loved us, thus provided for us ! As
to myself, I would hope there are few who have so
clear a sense of their obligations to him, who make
such unsuitable and languid returns as I do. I think I
have a desire to serve him better; but, alas ! evil is pre-
sent with me. Surely I shall feel something like shame
and regret for my coldness, even in heaven ; — for I find
I am never happier than when I am most ashamed of
myself upon this account here.
I am, &c.
I,et, 1 7, Letters to a Noblevian. 16 1
LETTER XVII.
My Lord, December 8, 1774.
H.
.OW wonderful is the patience of God towards sin-
ful men ! In him they live, and move, and have their
being ; and if he were to withdraw his support for a
single moment, they must perish. He maintains their
lives, guards their persons, supplies their wants, while
they employ the powers and faculties they receive from
him in a settled course of opposition to his will. They
trample upon his laws, affront his government, and de-
spise his grace ; yet still he spares. To silence all his
adversaries in a moment, would require no extraordi-
nary exertion of his power ; but his forbearance to-
wards them manifests his glory, and gives us cause to
say, Who is a God like unto thee?
Sometimes, however, there are striking instances of
his displeasure against sin. When such events take
place, immediately upon a public and premeditated
contempt offered to Him that sitteth in the heavens; I
own they remind me of the danger of standing, if I may
so speak, in the Lord's way ; for though his long-suf-
fering is astonishing, and many dare him to his face
daily, with seeming impunity ; yet he sometimes strikes
an awful and unexpected blow, and gives an illustra-
tion of that solemn word, "Who ever hardened him-
" self against the Lord and prospered ?" But who am
I, to make this observation ? I ought to do it with the
deepest humiliation, remembering that I once stood,
(according to my years and ability,) in the foremost rank
of his avowed opposers; and with a determined and
unwearied enmity, renounced, defied, and blasphemed
463 Letters to a Nobleman. J^Qi. 17,
him. " But he will have mercy on whom he will have
" mercy ;" and therefore I was spared, and reserved to
speak of his goodness.
Josephus, when speaking of the death of Herod
Agrippa, ascribes it to a natural cause, and says, he
was seized with excruciating pains in his bowels. But
Luke informs us of the true cause : an angel of the Lord
smote him. Had we a modern history, written by an
inspired pen, we should probably often be reminded
of such an interposition where we are not ordinarily
aware of it. For though the springs of actions and
events are concealed from us for the most part, and vain
men carry on their schemes with confidence, as though
the Lord had forsaken the earth ; yet they are under
his eye and control ; and faith, in some measure, in-
structed by the specimens of his government recorded
in the Scripture, can trace and admire his hand, and
can see how he takes the wise in their own craftiness,
stains the pride of human glory ; and that when sinners
speak proudly, he is above them, and makes every thing
bend or break before him.
While we lament the growth and pernicious effects of
infidelity, and see how wicked men and seducers wax
worse and worse, deceiving, and being deceived ; w hat
gratitude should fill our hearts to him, who has been
pleased to call us out of the horrid darkness in which
multitudes are bewildered and lost, into the glorious
light of his Gospel ? Faint are our warmest concep-
tions of this mercy. In order to understand it fully, we
should have a full and adequate sense of the evil from
which we are delivered ; the glory to which we are
called ; and especially of the astonishing moans to which
we owe our life and hope, the humiliation, sufferings,
and death of the Son of God. But our views of these
Let. 17. Letters to a Noblemayi. 4G3
points, while in our present state, are and must be ex-
ceedingly weak and disproportionate. We know them
but in part, we see them ^*£cro7r7fs, by reflection, raiiier
the images than the things themselves ; and though they
are faithfully represented in the mirror of God's word,
to us they appear indistinct, because we see them
through a gross medium of ignorance and unbelief.
Hereafter every vail shall be removed ; we shall know,
in another manner than we do now, the unspeakable
evil of sin, and the unsupportable dreadfulness of God's
displeasure against it, when we see the world in flames,
and hear the final sentence denounced upon the un*
godly. We shall have far other thoughts of Jesus when
we see him as he is ; and shall then be able to make a
more affecting estimate of the love w hich moved him to
be made a substitute and a curse for us ; and we shall
then know what great things God has prepared for them
that love him. Then with transport we shall adopt the
queen of Sheba's language, It Mas a true report we
heard in yonder dark world ; but behold the half, the
thousandth part, was not told us ! In the mean time,
may such conceptions as we are enabled to form of these
great truths, fill our hearts, and be mingled with all our
thoughts, and all our concerns ; may the Lord, by faith,
give us an abiding evidence of tlie reality and import-
ance of the things which cannot yet be seen ; so shall
we be enabled to live above the world while we are in
it, uninfluenced either by its blandishments or its frowns,
and, with a noble simplicity and singularity, avow and
maintain the cause of God in truth, in the midst of a
crooked and perverse generation. He whom we serve
is able to support and protect us ; and he well deserves,
at our hands, that we should be willing to endure, for
his sake, much more than he will ever permit us to be
Voj . r 3 O
1<64 Letters to a Noblevmn. Let. 17.
exercised with. The believer's call, duty, and privi-
lege, is beautifully and forcibly set forth in Milton's
character of Abdiel, at the end of the Fifth Book :
-Faithful found
Amonp; the faithless, faithful only he :
Among innumerable false, unmov'd,
Unshaken, unse^uc'd, unterrified,
His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal ;
Nor number, nor example, with him wrought
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind,
Though single.-
Methinks your lordship's situation particularly re-
sembles that in which the poet has placed Abdiel. —
You are not indeed called to serve God quite alone;
but amongst those of your own rank, and with whom
the station in which he has placed you necessitates you
to converse, how few are there who can understand, se-
cond, or approve, the principles upon which you act, or
easily bear a conduct which must impress conviction,
or reflect dishonour upon themselves ! But you are not
alone ; the Lord's people, (many of whom you will not
know till you meet them in glory,) are helping you here
with their prayers; his angels are commissioned to guard
and guide your steps ; yea, the Lord himself fixes his
eye of mercy upon your private and your public path,
and is near you at your right hand, that you may not
be moved ! That he may comfort you with the light of
his countenance, and uphold you with the arm of his
power, is my frequent prayer.
I am, &c.
Let. 18. Letters to a Nobleman. 465
LETTER XVIII.
My Lord, January 20, 1775.
Wi
E have entered upon another year! — So have thou-
sands, perhaps millions, w ho will not see it close ! An
alarming thought to the worldlino;! at least it should be
so. I have an imperfect remembrance ot an account I
read, when I was a boy, of an ice palace, built one win-
ter at Petersburgh. The walls, the roof, the floors, the
furniture, were all of ice, but finished with taste : and
every thing that might be expected in a royal palace
was to be found there ; the ice, while in the state of
water, being previously coloured, so that to the eye all
seemed formed of proper materials ; but all was cold,
useless, and transient. Had the frost continued till
now, the palace might have been standing; but with the
returning spring it melted away, like the baseless fabric
of a vision. Methinks there should have been one stone
in the building, to have retained the inscription *S7c
transit gloria miuidi ! for no contrivance could exhibit
a fitter illustration of the vanity of human life. Men
build and plan as if their work were to endure for ever ;
but the wind passes over them, and they are gone. In
the midst of all their preparations, or at furthest when
they think they have just completed their designs, their
breath goeth forth, they return to their earth ; in that
very day their thoughts perish.
liow mciny sleep who kept the world awake I
Yet this ice house had something of a leisurely dissolu-
tion ; though, when it began to decay, all the art of man
was unable to prop it ; but often death comes hastily.
466 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 18.
and, like the springing of a mine, destroys to the very
foundations without previous notice. Then all we have
been concerned in here,(all but the conseqiiences of our
conduct, which will abide to eternity,) will be no more
to Ub than the remembrance of a dream. This truth is
too plain to be denied ; but the greater part of mankind
act as if they were convinced it was false : they spend
their days in vanity, and in a moment they go down to
the grave. What cause of thankfulness have they who
are delivered from this delusion, and who, by the knov,-
ledge of the glorious Gospel, have learned their true
state and end, are saved from the love of the present
world, from the heart- distressing fear of death; and
know, that if their earthly house were dissolfedWkQ the
ice palace, they have a house not made with hands,
eternal in the heavens.
Yet even these are much concerned to realize the
brevity and uncertainty of their present state, that they
may be stimulated to make the most and the best of it ;
to redeem their time, and manage their precarious op-
portunities, so as may most tend to the praise and glory
of him who has called them out of darkness into marvel-
lous light. Why should any that have tasted that the
Lord is gracious wish to live another day, but that they
may have the honour to be fellow- workers with him, in-
strumental in promoting his designs, and of laying them-
selves out to the utmost of their abilities and influence in
his service ! To enjoy a sense of his loving kindness,
and to have the light of his countenance lifted up upon
our souls, is indeed, respecting oarselves, the best part
of life, yea, better than life itself; but this we shall
have to unspeakably greater advantage when we have
finished our course, and shall be wholly freed from the
body of sin. And therefore the great desirable while
Let. ISi Letters to a Nobletnan. 4G7
here seems to be grace, that we may sewe him and
suffer for him in the world. Though our first wish im-
mediately upon our own accounts might be, to depart
and be with Jesus, which is vo'k'Koi fxaxxov KpEio-o-ov, yet a
lively thought of our immense obligations to his redeem-
ing love, may reconcile us to a much longer continuance
here, if we may by any means be subservient to diffuse
the glory of his name, and the blessings of his salvation^
which is God's great and principal end in preserving
the world itself. When historians and politicians des-
cant upon the rise and fall of empires, with all their
professed sagacity, in tracing the connexion between
causes and effects, they are totally unacquainted with
the great master- wheel which manages the whole move-
ment ; that is, the Lord's design in favour of his church
and kingdom. To this every event is subordinate ; to
this every interfering interest must stoop. How easily
might this position be proved, by reviewing the history
of the period about the Reformation. Whether Dr.
Robertson considers things in this light, in his history of
Charles V. I know not, as I have not seen his books ;
but if not, however elaborate his performance may be
in other respects, I must venture to say, it is essentially
defective, and cannot give that light and pleasure to a
spiritual reader of which the subject is capable. And
I doubt not but some who are yet unborn will hereafter
clearly see and remark, that the present unhappy dis-
putes between Great Britain and America, with their
consequences, whatever tt)ey may be, are part of a series
of events, of which the extension and interests of the
church of Christ were the principal final causes. In a
word, that Jesus may be known, trusted, and adored,
and sinners, by the power of his Gospel, be rescued from
sin and Satan, is comparatively the To /v— the one great
4G8 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 18.
busineSwS, for the sake of which the succession of day
and night, summer and winter, is still maintained ; and
when the plan of redemption is consummated, sin, which
now almost fills the earth, will then set it on lire ; and
the united interest of all the rest of mankind, when de-
tached from that of the people of God, will not plead
for its preservation a single day. In this view, I con-
gratulate your lordship, that however your best en-
deavours to serve the temporal interests of the nation
may fall short of your wishes ; yet, so far as your situa-
tion gives you opportunity of supporting the Gospel-
cause, and facilitating its progress, you have a prospect
both of a more certain and more important success.
For instance, it was, under God, your lordship's favour
and influence that brought me into the ministry. And
though I be nothing, yet he who put it into your heart
to patronize me, has been pleased not to suffer what you
then did for his sake to be wholly in vain. He has been
pleased, in a course of years, by so unworthy an in-
strument as I am, to awaken a number of persons, who
were at that time dead in trespasses and sins ; but now
some of them are pressing on to the prize of their high
calling in Christ Jesus ; and some of them are already
before the throne. Should I suggest in some companies,
that the conversion of a hundred sinners, (more or less,)
to God is an event of more real importance than the
temporal prosperity of the greatest nation upon earth, I
should be charged with ignorance and arrogance ; but
your lordship is skilled in Scriptural arithmetic, which
alone can teach us to estimate the value of souls, and
will agree with me, that one soul is worth more than the
whole world, on account of its redemption-price, its
vast capacities, and its duration. Sliould we suppose a
nation to consist of forty millions, the whole and each
£et. 19. Letters to a Nohleyna7h. 469
individual to enjoy as mucli good as this life can afford,
without abatement, for a terra of fifty years each ; all
this good, or an equal quantity, might be exhausted by
a single person in two thousand million of years, which
M'ould be but a moment in comparison of the eternity
which would still follow. And if this good were merely
temporal good, the whole aggregate of it would be evil
and misery, if compared with that happiness in God,
of which only they who are made partakers of a divine
life are capable. On the other hand, were a whole
nation to be destroyed by such accumulated miseries as
attended the seise of Jerusalem, the sum-total of these
calamities would be but trifling, if set in competition
with vvhat every single person that dies in sin has to ex-
pect, when the sentence of everlasting destruction, from
the presence of the Lord, and the glory of his power,
shall be executed.
What an unexpected round have my thoughts taken
since I set out from the ice palace ! It is time to re-
lieve your lordship, and to subscribe myself, &c.
I
LETTER XIX.
My Lord, February 23, 1775.
ASSENT to our Lord's declaration, " Without me
''ye can do nothing;" not only upon the authority of
the speaker, but from the same irresistible and expe-
rimental evidence, as if he had told me, that I cannot
make the sun to shine, or change the course of the sea-
sons. Though my pen and my tongue sometimes
move freely, yet the total incapacity and stagnation of
thought I labour under at other times, convinces me,
that in myself I have not sufficiency to think a good
470 Letters to a Noblcmcui. Let. I'J.
thought ; and I believe the case would be the same, if
that little measure of knowledge and abilities, which I
am too prone to look upon as my own, were a thousand
times greater than it is. For every new service I stand
in need of a new supply, and can bring forth nothing
of my supposed store into actual exercise, but by his
immediate assistance. His gracious influence is that
to those who are best furnished with gifts, which the
water is to the mill, or the wind to the ship, without
which the whole apparatus is motionless and useless.
I apprehend that we lose much of the comfort which
might arise from a sense of our continual dependence
upon him, and, of course, fall short of acknowledging,
as we ought, what we receive from him, by mistaking
the manner of his operation. Perhaps we take it too
much for granted, that communications from himself
must bear some kind of sensible impression that they
are his, and therefore are ready to give our own indus-
try or ingenuity credit for those performances in which
we can perceive no such impression : yet it is very pos-
sible that we may be under his influence when we are
least aware: and though what we say, or write, or do,
may seem no way extraordinary: yet that we should
be led to such a particular turn of thought at one time
rather than at another, has, in my o^\'n concerns, often
appeared to me remarkable, from the circumstances
which have attended, or the consequences which have
followed. How often, in the choice of a text, or in the
course of a sermon, or in a letter to a friend, have I
been led to speak a word in season ! and what I have
expressed at large, and in general, has been so exactly
suited to some case which I was utterly unacquainted
with, that I could hardly have hit it so well, had I been
previously informed of it. Some instances of this kind
Let. 19. Letters to a Noblcnuin. 4,71
have been so striking, as hardly to admit a doubt of
superior agency. And indeed, if believers in Jesus,
however unworthy in themselves, are the temples of
the Holy Ghost; if the Lord lives, dwells, and walks
in them ; if he is their life and their light ; if he has
promised to guide them with his eye, and to work in
them to will and to do of his own good pleasure ; rne-
thinks what I have mentioned, and more, may be rea-
sonably expected. That line in the hymn,
Help I every moment need,
is not a hyperbolical expression, but strictly and liter-
ally true, not only in great emergencies, but in our
smoother hours, and most familiar paths. This gra-
cious assistance is afforded in a way imperceptible to
ourselves, to hide pride from us, and to prevent us from
being indolent and careless with respect to the use of
appointed means ; and it would be likewise more abun-
dantly, and perhaps more sensibly afforded, were our
spirits more simple in waiting upon the I-ord. But, alas !
a divided heart, an undue attachment to some temporal
object sadly deadens our spirits, (I speak for myself,)
and grieves the Lord's Spirit; so that we walk in dark-
ness and at a distance, and though called to great pri-
vileges, live far below them. But methinks the thought
of him who is always near, and upon whom we do and
must incessantly depend, should suggest a powerful mo-
tive for the closest attention to his revealed will, and
the most punctual compliance with it ; for so far as the
Lord withdraws, we become as blind men, and with the
clearest light, and upon the plainest ground, we are lia-
ble, or rather sure, to stumble at every step.
Though there is a principle of consciousness, and a
Vol. I. 3 P
472 LetUrs to a Nobleman. Let 19.
determination of the will, sufficient to denominate our
thoughts and performances our own ; yet I believe man-
kind in general are more under an invisible agency than
they apprehend. The Lord, immediately from him-
self, and perhaps by the ministry of his holy angels,
guides, prompts, restrains, or warns his people. So
there undoubtedly is what I may call a black inspira-
tion, the influence of the evil spirits who work in the
hearts of the disobedient, and not only excite their
wills, but assist their faculties, and qualify as well as
incline them to be more assiduously wicked, and more
extensively mischievous, than they could be of them-
selves. I consider Voltaire, for instance, and many
writers of the same stamp, to be little more than secre-
taries and amanuenses of one who has unspeakably more
wit and adroitness in promoting infidelity and immo-
rality, than they of themselves can justly pretend to.
They have, for a while, the credit, (if I may so call it,)
of the fund from whence they draw ; but the world
little imagines who is the real and original author of
that philosophy and poetry, of those fine turns and
sprightly inventions, which are so generally admired.
Perhaps many, now applauded for their genius, would
have been comparatively dolts, had they not been en-
gaged in a cause which Satan has so much interest in
supporting.
But to return to the more pleasing subject. How
great and honourable is the privilege of a true believer!
That he has neither wisdom nor strength in himself, is no
disadvantage ; for he is connected with infinite wisdom
and almighty power. Though weak as a worm, his
arms are strengthened by the mighty God of Jacob, and
all things become possible, yea, easy to him, that occur
within the compass of his proper duty and calling. The
Let. 19. Letters io a Noblcmcm. 473
Lord, whom he serves, engages to proportion his
strength to his day, whether it be a day of service or of
suffering ; and though he be fallible and short-sighted,
exceeding liable to mistake and imposition ; yet, while
lie retains a sense that he is so, and with the simplicity
of a child asks counsel and direction of the Lord, he
seldom takes a wrong step, at least not in matters of
consequence ; and even his inadvertencies are over-
ruled for good. If he forgets his true state, and thinks
himself to be something, he presently finds he is in-
deed nothing ; but if he is content to be nothing, and
to have nothing, he is sure to find a seasonable and
abundant communication of all that he wants. Thus
he lives, like Israel in the wilderness, upon mere boun-
ty ; but then it is a bounty unchangeable, unwearied,
inexhaustible, and all-sufficient. Moses, when speak-
ing of the methods the Lord took to humble Israel,
mentions his feeding them with manna, as one method.
I could not understand this for a time. I thought they
Mere rather in danger of being proud, when they saw
themselves provided for in such an extraordinary way.
But the manna would not keep ; they could not hoard
it up, and were therefore in a state of absolute depen-
dence from day to day : this appointment was well
suited to humble them. Thus it is with us in spirituals.
We should be better pleased, perhaps, to be set up
with a stock or sufficiency at once, such an inherent
portion of wisdom and power, as we might depend
upon, at least for common occasions, without being con-
strained by a sense of indigence, to have continual re-
course to the Lord for every thing we want. But his
way is best. His own glory is most displayed, and our
safety best secured, by keeping us quite poor and empty
in ourselves, and supplying us from one minute to an-
4^4 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 20.
Other, according to our need. This, if any thing, will
prevent boasting, and keep a sense of gratitude awake
in our hearts. This is nell adapted to quicken us to
prayer, and furnishes us vvith a thousand occasions for
praise, which would otherwise escape our notice.
But who or what are we, that the ]\Iost High should
thus notice us ! should visit us every morning, and water
us every moment ! It is an astonishing thought, that
God should thus dwell Avith men ! that he, before
■whom the mightiest earthly potentates are less than
nothing and vanity, should thus stoop and accommo-
date himself to the situation, wants, and capacities of
the weakest, meanest, and poorest of his children !
But so it hath pleased him. He seeth not as man
seeth.
I am, &c.
LETTER XX.
iMy Lord, August — 1775.
HAVE no apt preface or introduction at hand, and
as I have made it almost a rule not to study for what
I should offer your lordship, I therefore; beg leave to
begin abruptly. It is the future promised privilege of
believers in Jesus, that they shall be as the angels ; and
there is a sense in which we should endeavour to be as
the angels now. Tiiis is intimated to us where we arc
taught to pray. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in
heaven. I have sometimes amused myself with sup-
posing an angel should be appointed to reside awhile
upon earth in a human body ; not in sinful flesh like
ours, but in a body free from inhrn)ity, and still pre-
serving an unabated sense of his ow n happiness in the
Let. 20. Letters to a Nobleman. 475
favour of God, and of his unspeakable obligation to his
goodness ; and then I have tried to judge, as well as I
could, how such an angel Avould comport himself in
such a situation. I know not that I ever enlarged up-
on the thought, either in preaching or writing. Permit
me to follow it a little in this paper.
Were I acquainted with this heavenly visitant, I am
willing to hope I should greatly reverence him ; and, if
permitted, be glad, in some cases, to consult him : in
some, but not in all ; for I think my fear would be equal
to my love. ]\Iethinks I could never venture to open
my heart freely to him, and unfold to him my number-
less complaints and infirmities ; for, as he could have
no experience of the like things himself, I should sup-
pose he would not know how fully to pity me ; indeed,
hardly how to bear with me, if I told him at all. Alas !
what a preposterous, strange, vile creature should 1 ap-
pear to an angel, if he knew me as I am ! It is well for
me, that Jesus was made lower than the angels, and
that the human nature he assumed was not distinct from
the common nature of mankind, though secured from
the common depravity ; and because he submitted to
be under the law in our name and stead, though he
was free from sin himself, yet sin, and its consequences,
being, (for our sakes,) charged upon him, he acquired,
in the days of nis humiliation, an experimental sympa-
thy with his poor people. He knows the effects of sin
and temptation upon us, by that knowledge whereby he
knows all things ; but he knows them likewise in a way
more suitable for our comfort and relief, by the suffer-
ings and exercises he passed through for us. Hence
arises encouragement. We have not an high priest who
cannot be touched with a feeling of our infirmities, but
was, in all points, tempted even as ^ve are. When I
476 Letters to a Nobleman. luei. 20,
add to this, the consideration of his power, promises,
and grace, and that he is exalted on purpose to pity,
relieve, and save, I gather courage. With him I dare
be free, and am not sorry, but glad, that he knows me
perfectly, that not a thought of my heart is hidden from
him. For without this infinite and exact knowledge of
my disease, how could he effectually administer to my
cure? But whither am I rambling? I seem to have
lost sight of the angel already, I am now coming
back, that if he cannot effectually pity me, he may at
least animate and teach me.
In the first place, I take it for granted this angel
would think himself a stranger and pilgrim upon earth.
He would not forget that his '^oXinvixa, was in heaven.
Surely he would look upon all the bustle of human
life, (further than the design of his mission might con-
nect him with it,) w ith more indifference than we look
upon the sports of children, or the amusements of
idiots and lunatics, which give us an uneasiness, ra-
ther than excite a desire of joining in them. He
would judge of every thing around him, by the refer-
ence and tendency it had to promote the will of him
that sent hiui ; and the most specious or splendid ap-
pearances, considered in any other view, would make
no impression upon him.
Consequently, as to his ov.n concernment, all his
aim and desire would be to fulfil the will of God, All
situations would be alike to him ; whether he was com-
manded, as in the case of Sennacherib, to destroy a
mighty army with a stroke ; or, as in the case of Ha-
gar, to attend upon a woman, a servant, a slave; both
services would be to him equally honourable and im-
portant, because he was in both equally pleasing his
Lord, which would be his element and his joy, whether
Let. 20. Letters to a Nobteman. 477
he was appointed to guide the reins of empire, or to
sweep the streets.
Acrain, the angel would doubtless exhibit a striking
example of benevolence ; for being free from selfish
bias, filled with a sense of the love of God, and a
knowledge of his adorable perfections ; his whole heart,
and soul, and strength, would be engaged and exerted,
both from duty and inclination, to relieve the miseries,
and advance the happiness of all around him ; and in
this he would follow the pattern of him who doeth
good to all, commanding his sun to rise, and his rain
to fall, upon the just and the unjust ; though, from the
same pattern, he would show an especial regard to the
household of faith. An angel would take but little part
in the controversies, contentions, and broils, which
might happen in the time of his sojourning here, but
would be a friend to all, so far as consistent with the
general good.
The will and glory of God being the angel's great
view, and having a more lively sense of the realities of
an unseen world than we can at present conceive, he
would certainly, in the first and chief place, have the
success and spread of the glorious Gospel at heart.
Angels, though not redeemed with blood, yet feel them-
selves nearly concerned in the work of redemption.
They admire its mysteries. We may suppose thcni
well informed in the works of creation and providence.
But, (unlike too many men, who are satisfied with the
knowledge of astronomy, mathematics, or history,) they
search and pry into the counsels of redeeming love, re-
joice at the conversion of a sinner, and think them-
selves well employed to be ministering spirits, to minis-
ter to the heirs of salvation. It would therefore be his
chief delight to espouse and promote their cause, and
4TS Letters io a Nobleman. Let. 20,
to employ all his talents and influence in spreading the
savour and knowledge of the name of Jesus, which is
the only and effectual means of bringing sinners out of
bondage and darkness, into the glorious liberty of the
sons of God.
Lastly, Though his zeal for the glory of his Lord
would make him willing to continue here till he had
finished the work given him to do, he would, I am per-
suaded, look forward with desire to the appointed mo-
ment of his recall, that he might be freed from behold-
ing and mixing with the sin and vanity of those who
know not God, render his account with joy, and be
welcomed to heaven with a — Well done, good and
faithful servant. Surely he would long for this, as a
labourer for the setting sun ; and would not form any
connexion with the things of time, which should prompt
him to wish his removal protracted for a single hour
beyond the period of his prescribed service,
Alas! why am not I more like an angel? My views in
my better judgment are the same. ]My motives and
obligations ar#even stronger ; an angel is not so deeply
indebted to the grace of God, as a believing sinner,
who was once upon the brink of destruction, has been
redeemed with blood, and might justly have been, be-
fore now, shut up with the powers of darkness without
hope ! Yet the merest trifles are sufficient to debase
my views, damp my activity, and impede my endea-
vours in the Lord's service, though I profess to have no
other end or desire which can make a continuance in
life worthy mv wish.
I am, c^'c.
LeU 21. Letters to a Nobleimnt 479
LETTER XXI.
My Lord, November — 1775.
DUM loquimiir tempiis fugit. In the midst of the
hurries and changes of this unsettled state, we glide'
along swiftly towards an unchangeable world, and shall
soon have as little connexion with the scenes we are
now passing through, as we have with what happened
before the flood. All that appears great and interest-
ing in the present life, abstracted from its influence
upon our internal character, and our everlasting allot-
ment, will soon be as unreal as the visions of the night.
This we know and confess ; but though our judgments
are convinced, it is seldom our hearts are duly affected
by the thought. And while I find it easy to write in
this moralizing strain, I feel myself disposed to be se-
riously engaged about trifles, and trifling in the most
serious concerns, as if I believed the very contrary. It
is with good reason the Lord challenges, as his own
prerogative, the full knowledge of the deceitfulness, des-
perate wickedness, and latent depths of the human
heart, which is capable of making even his own people
so shamefully inconsistent with themselves, and with
their acknowledged principles.
I find that, w hen I have something agreeable in ex-
pectation, (suppose, for instance, it were a iew hours
conversation with your lordship,) my imagination paints
and prepares the scene before hand, hurries me over
the intervening space of time, as though it were a use-
less blank, and anticipates the pleasure I propose.
Many of my thoughts of this kind are mere waking
breams ; for perhaps the opportunity I am eagerly
Vol, I. 3 Q "^
4S0 Letters to a Soblcinon. Let. 21.
waiting for never happens, but is swallowed up by
some unforeseen disappointment ; or if not, something
from witliin or without, prevents its answering the idea
I had formed of it. Nor does my fancy confine itself
within the narrow limits of probabilities ; it can busy
itself as eagerly in ranging after chimeras and impos-
sibilities, and engage my attention to the ideal pursuit
of things \\ hich are never likely to happen. In these
respects my imagination travels with wings ; so that if
the wildness, the multiplicity, the variety of the phan-
toms which pass through my mind in the space of a
winter's day, were known to my fellow-creatures, they
would probably deem me, as I am often ready to deem
myself, but a more sober and harmless kind of lunatic.
But if I endeavour to put this active roving power in a
right track, and to represent to myself those scenes,
which, though not yet present, I know will soon be
realized, and have a greatness, which the most enlarged
exercise of my powers cannot comprehend : if I would
fix my thoughts upon the hour of death, the end of the
world, the coming of the Judge, or similar subjects ;
then my imagination is presently tame, cold, and jaded,
travels very slowly, and is soon wearied in the road of
truth ; though in the fairy fields of uncertainty and folly
it can skip from mountain to mountain. ]\lr. Addison
supposes, that the imagination alone, as it can be dif-
ferently affected, is capable of making us either incon-
ceivably happy or miserable. I am sure it is capable
of making us miserable, though I believe it seldom
gives us much pleasure, but such as is to be found in
a fool's paradise. But 1 am sure, were my outward
life and conduct perfectly free from blame, the disor-
ders and defilement of my imagination are sufficient to
constitute me a chief sinner, in the sight of him to
Let. 21. Letters to a Nobleman. 481
whom the thoughts and intents of the heart are con-
tinually open, and who is of purer eyes than to behold
iniquity.
Upon this head I cannot but lament how universally
almost, education is suited, and as it were designed, to
add to the stimulus of depraved nature. A cultivated
imagination is commended and sought after as a very
desirable talent, though it seldom means more than the
possession of a large stock of other people's dreams
and fables, with a certain quickness in compounding
them, enlarging upon them, and exceeding them by in-
ventions of our own. Poets, painters, and even histo-
rians, are employed to assist us from our early years, in
forming an habitual relish for shadows and colourings,
which both indispose for the search of truth, and even
unfit us for its reception, unless proposed just in our
own way. The best effect of the Belles Lettres
upon the imagination seems generally expressed by the
word Taste, And what is this taste, but a certain dis-
position which loves to be humoured, soothed, and flat-
tered, and Avhich can hardly receive or bear the most
important truths, if they be not decorated and set off
with such a delicacy and address as taste requires. I
say the most impoi^tant truths ; because truths of a se-
cular importance strike so closely upon the senses, that
the decision of taste perhaps is not waited for. Thus,
if a man be informed of the birth of his child, or that
his house is on fire, the message takes up his thoughts,
and he is seldom much disgusted with the manner in
which it is delivered. But what an insuperable bar is
the refined taste of many, to their profiting by the
preaching of the Gospel, or even to their hearino- it ?
Though the subject of a discourse be weighty, and
some just representation given of the evil of sin the
482 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 2S.
worth of the soul, and the love of Christ ; yet, if there
be something amiss in the elocution, language, or man-
ner of the preacher, people of taste must be possessed,
in a good measure, of grace likewise, if they can hear
him with tolerable patience. And perhaps three
fourths of those who are accounted the most sensible
and judicious in the auditory, will remember little about
the sermon, but the tone of the voice, the awkward-
ness of the attitude, the obsolete expressions, and the
like, while the poor and simple, not being encum-
bered with this hurtful accomplishment, receive the
messenger as the Lord's servant, and the truth as the
Lord's word, and are comforted and edified. But I
stop. Some people would say, that I must suppose
your lordship to have but little taste, or else much grace,
or I should not venture to trouble you with such letters
as mine.
I am, &c.
LETTER XXII.
My Lord,
X HE apostle speaks of a blessedness, which it is the
design of the Gospel to impart to those who receive it.
The Galatians once had it, and spoke of it. The
apostle reminds them of their loss, which is left upon
record as a warning to us. His expression has led mo
sometimes to consider wherein a Christian's present
blessedness consists. I mean that which is attainable
in this state of trial, and the sense and exercise of
which may be, and too often is, suspended and taken
from us. It is a blessedness which, if we speak of
man in a natural state, his eye hath not seen, nor his
rnr heard so as to understand it, nor can the idea of it
Let; 22. Letters to a Noble>mu. 483
arise in his heart. It is no way dependent upon out-
ward circumstances. Prosperity cannot impart it, pre-
serve, or supply the want of it; nor can adversity put it
out of our reach. The wise cannot acquire it by dint
of superior abilities ; nor shall the simple miss it for
want of capacity.
The state of true believers, compared with that of
others, is always blessed. If they are born from above,
and united to Jesus, they are delivered from condem-
nation, and are heirs of eternal life, and may therefore
well be accounted happy. But I consider now, not
their harvest, but their first fruits ; not their portion in
reversion, but the earnest attainable in this life ; not
what they shall be in heaven, but what, in an humble
attendance upon the Lord, they 7)iai/ be while upon
€arth. There is even at present a prize of our high
calling set before us. It is much to be desired, that we
had such a sense of its value as might prompt us so to
run that we might obtain. I have thought this blessed-
ness may be comprised in five particulars, though, in
order to take a succinct view of the subject, some of
these mi2;ht be branched out into several others : but I
would not by too many subdivisions give my letter the
air of a sermon,
In the first place, a clear, well-grounded, habitual
persuasion of our acceptance in the Beloved is attain-
able ; and though we may be safe, we cannot be said to
enjoy blessedness without it. To be in a state of sus-
pense and uncertainty in a point of so great importance,
is painful; and the Lord has accordingly provided, that
his people may have strong consolation on this head.
They are blessed, therefore, who have such views of the
power, grace, and suitableness of Jesus, and the cer-
tainty and security of redemption in him, togettier with
484 Letters to a Noblcnmn, Let. 23.
such a consciousness that they have anchored their
hopes, and ventured their all, upon his person, work, and
promise, as furnishes them with a ready answer to all
the cavils of unbelief and Satan, in the apostle's man-
ner, Rom. viii. 31 — 37. That Paul could thus chal-
lenge and triumph over all charges and enemies, was
not an appendage of his office as an apostle, but a part
of his experience as a believer ; and it lies equally open
to us : for we have the same Gospel and the same pro-
mises as he had; nor is the efficacy of the Holy Spirit's
teaching, a whit Aveakned by length of time. But many
stop short of this. They have a hope, but it rather
springs from their frames and feelings, than from a
spiritual apprehension of the Redeemer's engagements
and fulness, and therefore fluctuates and changes like
the weather. Could they be persuaded to pray with
earnestness and importunity, as the apostle prays for
them, Ephes, i. 17, 18. and iii. 16 — 19^ they would
find a blessedness which they have not yet known; for
it is said, ''Ask, and ye shall receive." — And it is said
likewise, " Ye receive not, because ye ask not."
Could this privilege be enjoyed singly, the natural
man would have no objection to it. He would, (as he
thinks,) be pleased to know he should be saved at last,
provided that while here he might live in his sins. But
the believer will not, cannot think himself blessed, un-
less he has likewise a conscience void of offence. This
was the apostle's daily exercise, though no one was fur-
ther from a legal spirit, or more dependent upon Jesus
for acceptance. But if we live in any known sin, or
allow ourselves in the customary omission of any known
duty, supposing it possible, in suCh a case, to preserve a
sense of our acceptance, (which can hardly be supposed,
for if the Spirit be grieved, our evidences decline of
Let. 22. Letters to a Nofjleman. 4^5
course,) yet we could not be easy. If a traveller was
absolutely sure of reaching his journey's end in safety ;
yet if he walked with a thorn in his foot, he must take
every step in pain. Such a thorn will be felt in the
conscience, till we are favoured with a simplicity of
heart, and made willing in all things, great or small, to
yield obedience to the authority of the Lord's precepts,
and make them the standing rule of our conduct, with-
out wilfully admitting a single exception. At the best,
we shall be conscious of innumerable short-comings,
and shameful defilement; but these things will not break
our peace if our hearts are upright. But if we trifle
with light, and connive at what we know to be wrong, we
shall be weak, restless, and uncomfortable. How many,
who we would hope are the children of the King, are
lean from day to day, because some right-hand or right-
eye evil, which they cannot persuade themselves to part
with, keeps them halting between two opinions ; and
they are as distant from happiness, as they are from the
possibility of reconciling the incompatible services of
God and the world. But happy indeed is he who con-
demneth not himself in that thing Mhich he alloweth.
Real communion with the Lord, in his appointed
means of grace, is likewise an im.portant branch of this
blessedness. They were instituted for this end, and are
sufficient, by virtue of his power and Spirit, to answer
it. I do not believe this enjoyment will be always
equal. But I believe a comfortable sense of it, in some
measure, is generally attainable. To read the Scrip-
ture, not as an attorney may read a will, merely to know
the sense ; but as the heir reads it, as a description and
proof of his interest : to hear the Gospel, as the voice
of our Beloved, so as to have little leisure either for ad-
miring the abilities, or censuring the defects of the
486 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. ^2.
preacher ; and, in prayer, to feel a liberty of pouring
out our hearts before the Lord, to behold some glances
of his goodness passing before us, and to breathe forth
before him the tempers of a child, the spirit of adop-
tion : and thus, by beholding his glory, to be conformed
more and more to his image, and to renew our strength,
by drawing water out of the wells of salvation : herein
is blessedness. They who have tasted it can say, it is
good for me to draw nigh to God. The soul thus re-
freshed by the water of life, is preserved from thirsting
after the vanities of the world ; thus instructed in the
sanctuary, comes down from the mount filled with hea-
venly wisdom, anointed with a holy unction, and there-
by qualified to judge, speak and act in character, in all
the relations and occasions of secular life. In this way,
besides the pleasure, a spiritual taste is acquired, some-
thing; analogous to the meaning of the word taste when
applied to music or good-breeding, by which discords
and improprieties are observed and avoided, as it were
by instinct, and what is right is felt and followed, not so
much by the force of rules, as by a habit insensibly ac-
quired, and in which the substance of all necessary rules
are, if I may so say, digested. O that I knew more of
this blessedness, and more of its effects !
Another branch of blessedness, is a power of repos-
ing ourselves and our concerns upon the Lord's faith-
fulness and care ; and may be considered in two re-
spects : a reliance upon him that he will surely provide
for us, guide us, protect us, be our help in trouble, our
shield in danger ; so that however poor, weak, and de-
fenceless in ourselves, we may rejoice in his all-suffi-
ciency as our own ;— and further, in consequence of
this, a peaceful, humble submission to his will, under all
events which, upon their first impression, are contrary
Let 22. Letters to a Noblemayu 487
to our own views and desires. Surely, in a world like
this, where every thing is uncertain, w here we are ex-
posed to trials on every hand, and know not but a single
hour may bring forth something painful; yea, dreadful to
our natural sensations, there can be no blessedness, but
bO far as we are thus enabled to intrust and resign all
to the direction and faithfulness of the Lord our Shep-
herd. For want of more of this spirit, multitudes of
professing Christians perplex and wound themselves,
and dishonour their high calling, by continual anxieties,
alarms, and complaints. They think nothing safe under
the Lord's keeping, unless their own eye is likewise upon
it ; and are seldom satisfied with any of his dispensa-
tions : for though he gratify their desires in nine in-
stances, a refusal in the tenth, spoils the relish of all, and
they show the truths of the Gospel can afford them little
comfort, if self is crossed. But blessed is the man Avho
trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is. He
shall not be afraid of evil tidings : he shall be kept in
perfect peace, though the earth be moved, and the
mountains cast into the midst of the sea.
The paper admonishes me it is time to relieve your
lordship: — and I have not room to detain you long upon
the fifth particular. It belongs to a believer's blessed-
ness, to feel his spirit cheerful and active for the Lord's
service in the world. For to what other end should he
wish to live ? If he thought of himself onlv, it would
be better to depart and be with Jesus immediately.
But he is a debtor to his grace and love ; and though,
strictly, he can make no returns, — yet he longs to show
his thankfulness : and if the Lord give him a heart to
redeem his time, to devote his strength and influence,
and lay himself out for his service, — that he may be in-
strumental in promoting his cause, in comforting his
Vol. I. 3 R
488 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 23.
people, — or enable him to let his light shine before men,
that his God and Father may be honoured ; — he will
account it blessedness. This is indeed the great end
of life, and he knows it will evidently appear so at the
approach of death ; and, therefore, while others are
cumbered about many things, he esteems this the one
thing needful.
I remain, my Lord, &c.
LETTER XXIIL
My Lord, July — 1776.
J. HAT I may not weary you by a preamble, I oblige
myself to take the turn of n.y letter from some passage
of Scripture ; and I fix upon that which just now oc-
curred to my thoughts, a clause in that pattern of prayer
■which he who best knows our state, has been pleased
to leave for the instruction of his people in their great
concern of waiting at his throne of grace, Matth. vi. 1 3.
— " And lead us not into temptation." This petition
is seasonable at all times, and to all persons who have
any right knowledge of themselves, or their spiritual
calling.
The word temptation, taken at large, includes every
kind of trial. To tempt is to try or prove. In this
sense, it is said, the Lord tempted Abraham : that is,
he tried him; for God cannot tempt to evil. He pro-
posed such an act of obedience to him, as was a test of
his faith, love, dependence, and integrity. Thus, all our
afflictions, under his gracious management, are ap-
pointed to prove, manifest, exercise, and purify the
graces of his children. And not afflictions only, pros-
perity likewise is a state of temptation : and many who
Let. 23. Letters to a Nobleman. 489
have endured sharp sufferings, and came off honoura-
bly, have been afterwards greatly hurt and ensnared by
prosperity. To this purpose the histories of David and
Hezekiah are in point. But by temptation we more
frequently understand the wiles and force which Satan
employs in assaulting our peace, or spreading snares
for our feet. He is always practising against us, either
directly and from himself, by the access he has to our
hearts, or mediately, by the influence he has over the
men and the things of this world. The words which
follow confirm this sense, — " Lead us not into tempta-
" tion; but deliver us from evil," a~o rov tow^ov, from the
evil one, as it might be properly rendered here, and in
1 John V. 19. The subtlety and power of this adver-
sary are very great : he is an over-match for us ; and
we have no hope of safety but in the Lord's protection.
Satan's action upon the heart may be illustrated by the
action of the wind upon the sea. The sea sometimes
appears smooth; but it is always disposed to swell and
rage, and to obey the impulse of every storm. Thus,
the heart may be sometimes quiet ; but the wind of
temptation will awaken and rouse it in a moment : for
it is essential to our depraved nature to be unstable and
yielding as the water ; and when it is under the impres-
sion of the enemy, its violence can only be controlled by
him, who says to the raging sea, " Be still, and here
*' shall thy proud waves be stayed." The branches of
temptation are almost innumerable ; but the principal
may be reduced to the several faculties of the soul, (as
we commonly speak,) to which they are more directly
suited.
He has temptations for the understanding. He can
blind the mind with prejudices and false reasonings, and
ply it with arguments for infidelity, till the most obvious
490 Letters to a Noblemcni. Let. 23.
truths become questionable. Even where the Gospel
has been received, he can insinuate error, which, for the
suddenness and malignity of its effects, may be properly
compared to poison. A healthy man may be poisoned
in a moment ; and if he be, the baneful drug is usually
mixed with his food. j\Iany who for a while seemed
to be sound in the faith, have had their judgments
strongly and strangely perverted, and prevailed upon to
renounce and oppose the truths they once prized and
defended. Such instances are striking proofs of human
weakness, and loud calls to watchfulness and depend-
ence, and to beware of leaning to our understandings.
For these purposes he employs both preachers and au-
thors, who, by fine words and fair speeches, beguile the
hearts of the unwary. And, by his immediate influence
upon the mind, he is able, (if the Lord permits him,) to
entangle those who are providentially placed out of the
reach of corrupt and designing men.
He tempts the conscience. By working upon the
unbelief of our hearts, and darkening the glory of the
Gospel, he can hold down the soul to the number,
weight, and agcrravation of its sins, so that it shall not
be able to look up to Jesus, nor draw any comfort from
his blood, premises, and grace. LIow^ many go bur-
dened in this manner, seeking relief from duties, and
perhaps spending their strength in things not com-
manded, though they hear, and perhaps acknowledge,
the Gospel? Nor are the wisest and most established
able to witlistand his assaults, if the Lord withdraw and
give him leave to employ his power and subtlety unre-
strained. The Gospel affords sufficient ground for an
abiding assurance of hope ; nor should we rest satis-
fied without it. However, the possession and preser-
vation of this privilege depends upon the Lord's pre-
Let. 23. Letters to a Nobleman. 491
sencc nith tlie soul, and his shielding us from Satan's
attacks ; for I am persuaded he is able to sift and shake
the strongest believer upon earth.
He has likeM'ise temptations suited to the will. Je-
sus makes his people willing in the day of his power;
yet there is a contrary principle remaining within them,
of which Satan knows how to avail himself There are
occasions in which he almost prevails to set self again
upon the throne, as Dagon was raised after he had fal-
len before the ark. How else should any who have
tasted that the Lord is gracious, give way to a repining
spirit, account his dispensations hard, or his precepts
too strict, so as to shrink from their observance through
the fear of men, or a regard to their worldly interest ?
Further, he has snares for the affections. In manaer-
o
ing these, he gains a great advantage from our situation
in a world that knows not God. The Scripture gives
Satan the title of god of this world; and believers learn^
by painful experience, how great his power is in and
over the persons and things of it. So that to be steadfast
in wisdom's ways, requires unremitted efforts, like press-
ing through a crowd, or swimming against a stream. Plow
hard is it to live in the midst of pitch and not be defiled !
The air of the world is infectious. Our business and
unavoidable connexions are so interwoven with occa-
sions of sin, and there is so much in our hearts suited to
them, that unless we are incessantly upheld by almighty
strength, we cannot stand a day or an hour. Past vic-
tories afford us no greater security than they did Sam-
son, who was shamefully surprised by enemies whom
he had formerly conquered. Xor are we only tempted
by compliances that are evil in themselves. With res-
pect to these, perhaps, conscience may be awake, and
we stand upon our guard ; but we are still upon Satan's
492 Letters to a Kobieman. Let. 26.
ground; and uhile he may seem to allow himself defeat-
ed, he can dexterously change his method, and come up-
on us where we do not suspect him. For Perimiis in
Uoitis. Perhaps our greatest danger arises from things
in themselves lawful. He can tempt us by our nearest
and dearest friend, and pervert every blessing of a kind
Providence, into an occasion of drawing our hearts from
the Giver ; yea, spiritual blessings, gifts, comforts, and
even graces, are sometimes the engines by which he
practises against us, to fill us with vain confidence and
self-sufficiency, or to lull us into formality and indolence.
That wonderful power which we call the imagination,
is, I suppose, rather the medium of the soul's perceptions
during its present state of union with the body, than a
spiritual faculty, strictly speaking; but it partakes largely
of that depravity which sin has brought upon our whole
frame, and affords Satan an avenue for assaulting us with
the most terrifying, if not the most dangerous of his temp-
tations. At the best, v/e have but an indifferent command
over it. We cannot, by an act of our own will, exclude
a thousand painful, wild, inconsistent, and hurtful ideas,
Avhich are ever ready to obtrude themselves upon our
minds ; and a slight alteration in the animal system, in
the motion of the blood or nervous spirits, is sufficient
to withdraw it wholly from our dominion, and to leave
us, like a city without walls or gates, exposed to the in-
cursion of our enemy. We are fearfully and wonderfully
made ; and, with all our boasted knowledge of other
things, can form no conception of what is so vastly in-
teresting to us, the mysterious connexion between soul
and bod}^, and the manner in which they are mutually
affected by each other. The effects we too sensibly feel.
The wisest of men would be accounted fools or mad^
were they to express in words a small part of what passes
Let. 23. Letters to a Nobleman. 493
within them; and it would appear that much of the sober-
est life is little better than a waking dream : but how dread-
ful are the consequences when the Lord permits some
hidden pin in the human machine to be altered ! Imme-
diately a door flies open, which no hand but his can
shut, and the enemy pours in like a flood, falsehood and
horror, and the blackness of darkness ; the judgment
is borne down and disabled, and the most distressing
illusions seize us with all the apparent force of evidence
and demonstration. When this is the case in a certain
degree, we call it distraction ; but there are various de-
grees of it, which leave a person in the possession of his
senses as to the things of common life, and yet are suf-
ficient, with respect to his spiritual concerns, to shake the
very foundations of his hope, and deprive him of all peace
and comfort, and make him a terror to himself. All
the Lord's people are not called to navigate in these
deep waters of soul distress ; but all are liable. Ah !
if we knew what some suffer, the HorribUia de Deo, et
Terrihilia de Fide, which excruciate the minds of those
over whom Satan is permitted to tyrannise in this way,
surely v;e should be more earnest and frequent in pray-
ing, " Lead us not into temptation," From some little
sense I have of the malice and subtlety of our spiritual
enemies, and the weakness of those barriers which we
have to prevent their assaults, I am fully persuaded that
nothing less than the continual exertion of that almighty
power which preserves the stars in their orbits, can
maintain our peace of mind for an hour or a minute.
In this view, all comparative difference in external situ-
ations seems to be annihilated ; for as the Lord's pre-
sence can make his people happy in a dungeon, so there
are temptations, which, if we felt them, would instantly
render us incapable of receiving a moment's satisfaction
494 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 23.
from an assemblage of all earthly blessings, and make
the company of our dearest friends tasteless, if not in-
supportable.
Ah! ho'v little do the gay and the busy think of these
things ! How little indeed do they think of them who
profess to believe them ! How faint is the sense of our
obligations to him, who freely submitted to the fiercest
onsets of the powers of darkness, to free us from the
punishment due to our sins ; otherwise we must have
been for ever shut up with those miserable and merci-
less spirits, who delight in our torment, and who, even
in the present state, if they get access to our minds, can
make our existence a burden !
But our Lord, who knows and considers our weak-
ness, of which we are so little aw are, allows and directs
us to pray, " Lead us not into temptation." We are
not to expect an absolute freedom from temptation; we
are called to be soldiers, and must sometimes meet with
enemies, and perhaps with Mounds ; yet considering this
prayer as provided by him, who knows what we are, and
where we are, it may afford us both instruction and
consolation.
It calls to a constant reflection upon our own weak-
ness. Believers, especially young ones, are prone to
rest too much in grace received. They feel their hearts
warm ; and, like Peter, are ready to please themselves
with thinking how they would act in such or such a
state of trial. It is as if the Lord had said, Poor worms,
be not high-minded, but fear and pray, that, if it may
be, you may be kept from learning, by bitter experience,
how weak your supposed strength is. It sweetly inti-
mates, that all our ways, and all our enemies, are in the
hands of our great Shepherd. He knows our path.
AVe are short-sighted, and cannot tell what an hour may
Let. 23. Letters to a Nobleman. 4^
bring forth: but we are under his protection ; and if we
depend upon him, we need not l)e anxiously afraid. He
will be faithful to the trust we repose in him, and will
suffer no temptation to overtake us, but what he will
support us under and bring us through. But it becomes
us to beware of security and presumption, to keep our
eyes upon him, and not to think ourselves safe a mo-
ment longer than our spirits feel and breathe the mean-
ing of this petition.
It implies, likewise, the duty of watchfulness on our
part, as our Lord joins them elsewhere, " Watch and
" pray." If we desire not to be led into temptation,
surely we are not to run into it. If we wish to be pre-
served from error, we are to guard against a curious
and reasoning spirit. If we would preserve peace of
conscience, we must beware of trifling with the light
and motions of the Holy Spirit; for without his assistance
we cannot maintain faith in exercise. If we would not
be ensnared by the men of the world, we are to keep at
a proper distance from them. The less we have to do
with them the better, excepting so far as the providence
of God makes it our duty in the discharge of our callings
and relations, and taking opportunities of doing them
good. And though we cannot wholly shut Satan out
of our imaginations, we should be cautious that we do
not wilfully provide fuel for his flame ; but entreat the
Lord to set a watch upon our eyes and our ears, and to
teach us to reject the first motions and the smallest ap-
pearance of evil.
I have been so intent upon my subject, that I have
once and again forgot I was writing to your lordship,
otherwise I should not have let my lucubration run to
so great a length, which I certainly did not intend when
-I began. I shall not add to this fault, by makin<T an
Vol. L 3 S
496 Letters to a Isubleman. Let. 24.
apology. I have touched upon a topic of great import-
ance to myself. I am one among many who have suf-
fered greatly for want of paying more attention to my
need of this prayer, O that I could be wiser hereafter,
and always act and speak as knowing that I am always
upon a field of battle, and beset by legions I
I am, with great respect, &c.
LETTER XXIV.
My Lord, September — 1776.
ITHOUTany preamble, I purpose now to wait on
your lordship, with a few thoughts on the meaning of
that name which first obtained at Antioch, in other words,
what it is to be a Christian ? What are the effects,
which, (making allowance for the unavoidable infirmi-
ties attending upon the present state of mortality,) may
be expected from a real experimental knowledge of the
Gospel? I would not insinuate that none are Christians
who do not come up to the character I would describe;
for then I fear I should unchristian myself: but only to con-
sider what the Scripture encourages us to aim at as the
prize of our high calling in this life. It is generally allowed
and lamented, that we are too apt to live below our pri-
vileges, and to stop short of w hat the spirit and the pro-
mises of the Gospel point out to us as attainable.
Mr. Pope's admired line, " An honest man's the
" noblest work of God," may be admitted as a truth
when rightly explained. A Christian is the noblest
work of God in this visible world, and bears a much
brighter impression of his glory and goodness than the
sun in the firmament ; and none but a Christian can be
strictly and properly honest : all others are too much
Let. 2-1. Letters to a Nobleman. 497
under the power of self, to do universally to others as
tlic}^ would others should do unto them; and nothing but
an uniform conduct upon this principle deserves the
name of honesty.
The Christian is a new creature, born and tauiiht from
above. He has been convinced of his guilt and misery
as a sinner; has fled for refuge to the hope set before him ;
has seen the Son and believed on him : his natural pre-
judices against the glory and grace of God's salvation
have been subdued and silenced by almighty power; he
has accepted the Beloved, and is made acceptable in
him : he now knows the Lord ; has renounced the con-
fused, distant, uncomfortable notions he once formed of
God ; and beholds him in Christ, who is the w^ay, the
truth, and the life, the only door by which we can enter
to any true satisfying knowledge of God, or comnuuiion
with him. But he sees God in Christ, reconciled, a
Father, a Saviour, and a Friend, who has freely for-
given him all his sins, and given him the spirit of adop-
tion: he is now no longer a servant, much less a stranger,
but a son ; and because a son, an heir already interested
in all the promises, admitted to the throne of grace, and
an assured expectant of eternal glory. The Gospel is
designed to give us not only a peradventure or a proba-
bility, but a certainty both of our acceptance and our
perseverance, till death shall be swallowed up in life.
And though many are sadly fluctuating and perplexed
upon this head, and perhaps all are so for a season ;
yet there are those who can say, we know that we are
of God ; and therefore they are steadfast and unmove-
able in his way ; because they are confident that their
labour shall not be in vain, but that when they shall be
absent from the body, they shall be present with their
Lord. This is the state of the advanced, experienced
498 Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 24.
Christian, who, being enabled to make his profession
the chief business of his hfe, is strong in the Lord, and
in the power of his might. Every one who has this
hope in Christ, purificth himself, even as he is pure. —
I would now attempt a sketch of the Christian's tem-
per, formed upon these principles and hopes, under the
leading branches of its exercise, respecting God, him-
self, and his fellow creatures.
The Cliristian's temper God- ward is evidenced by
hiimiliti/. He has received from Gethsemane and Gol-
gotha such a sense of the evil of sin, and of the ho-
liness of God, combined with his matchless love to
sinners, as has deeply penetrated his heart ; he has an
affecting remembrance of the state of rebellion and
enmity in which he once lived against this holy and
good God ; and he has a quick perception of the de-
filements and defects which still debase his best ser-
vices. His mouth is therefore stopped as to boasting; he
is vile in his own eyes, and is filled with wonder, that
the Lord should visit such a sinner with such a salva-
tion. He sees so vast a disproportion between the ob-
ligations he is under to grace, and the returns he makes,
that he is disposed, yea, constrained, to adopt the
apostle's words without affectation, and to account
himself less than the least of all saints ; and knowing
his own hearty while he sees only the outside of others,
he is not easily persuaded there can be a believer upon
earth so faint, so unh'uitful, so unworthy as himself.
Yet, though abased, he is not discouraged, for he en-
joys peace. The dignity, offices, blood, righteousness,
faithfulness, and compassion of the Redeemer, in whom
he rests, trusts, and lives, for wisdom, righteousness,
sanctification, and redemption," are adequate to all his
wants and wishes, provide him with an answer to every
Let. 24. Letters to a Nobleimn. 499
objection, and give him no less confidence in God, than
if he were sinless as an angel : for he sees, that though
sin has abounded in him, grace has much more
abounded in Jesus. With respect to the past, all
things are become new ; with respect to the present
and future, he leans upon an almighty arm, and relies
upon the word and power which made and upholds the
heavens and the earth. Though he feels himself un-
worthy of the smallest mercies, he claims and expects
the greatest blessings that God can bestow ; and being
rooted and grounded in the knowledge and love of
Christ, his peace abides, and is not greatly affected,
either by the variation of his own frames, or the
changes of God's dispensations towards him while here.
With such a sense of himself, such a lieart-felt peace
and heavenly hope, how can his spirit but breathe love
to his God and Saviour? It is indeed the perfection
of his character and happiness, that his soul is united
by love to the chief good. The love of Christ is the
joy of his heart, and the spring of his obedience. With
his Saviour's presence, he finds a heaven begun upon
earth ; and without it, all the other glories of the hea-
venly state would not content him. The excellence of
Christ, his love to sinners, especially his dying love ;
his love to himself in seeking and saving him when lost,
saving him to the uttermost — But I must stop. Your
lordship can better conceive than I can describe, how
and ^\ hy Jesus is dear to the heart that knows him.
That part of the Christian's life which is not employed
in the active service of his Lord, is chiefly spent in
seeking and maintaining communion with him. For
this he plies the throne, and studies the word of grace,
and frequents the ordinances, where the Lord has pro-
mised to meet with his people. These are his golden
SOO Letters to a Nobleman. het. 24.
hours ; and when thus employed, how poor and trivial
does all that the world calls great and important ap-
pear in his eyes ! Yea, he is solicitous to keep up an
intercourse of heart with his Beloved in his busiest
scenes ; and so far as he can succeed, it alleviates all
his labours, and sweetens all his troubles. And when
he is neither communing with his Lord, nor acting for
hini, he accounts his time lost, and is ashamed and
grieved. The truth of his love is manifested by mb-
missioii. This is twofold, and absolute, and without
reservein each. He submits to his revealed will, as made
known to him by precept, and by his own example.
He aims to tread in his Saviour's footsteps, and makes
conscience oi all his commandments, without exception,
and without hesitation. Again, he submits to his pro-
vidential will : he yields to his sovereignty, acquiesces
in his wisdom ; he knows he has no right to complain
of any thing, because he is a sinner ; and he has no
reasoUy because he is sure the Lord does all things
"u-ell. Therefore, this submission is not forced, but is
an act of trust. He kno^vs he is not more unworthy
than he is unable to choose for himself, and therefore
rejoices that the Lord has undertaken to manage for
him ; and were he compelled to make his ova n choice,
he could only choose, that all his concerns should re-
main in that hand to which he has already conmiitted
them. And thus he judges of public, as well as of his
personal affairs. He cannot be an unaffected specta-
tor of national sins, nor without apprehension of their
deserved consequences ; he feels, and almost trembles
for others, but he himself dwells under the shadow of
the Almighty, in a sanctuary that cannot be forced ;
and, therefore, should he see the earth shaken, and the
mountains cast into the midst of the sea, his heart
Let. 24i. Lcclers to a Nobleman. 501
would not be greatly moved, for God is his refuge. —
The Lord reigns. He sees his Saviour's hand direct-
iu'j- every dark appearance, and over-ruling all to the
accomplishment of his own great purposes : this satis-
fies him ; and though the winds and waves should be
high, he can venture liis own little bark in the storm,
for he has an infallible and almighty Pilot on board
with him. And indeed, why should he fear when he
has nothing to lose ? His best concerns are safe ; and
other things he holds as gifts from his Lord, to whose
call he is ready to resign them, in vv'hatever way he
pleases ; well knowing, that creatures and instruments
cannot of themselves touch a hair of his head without
the Lord's permission, and that if he does permit them,
it must be for the best.
I might enlarge further. — But I shall proceed to con-
sider the Christian's temper respecting himself. He
lives godly and soberly. By sobriety we mean more
than that he is not a drunkard ; his tempers toward
God, of course, form him to a moderation in all tempo-
ral things. He is not scrupulous or superstitious ; he
understands the liberty of the Gospel, that every crea-
ture of God is good if it be received with thanksgiving :
he does not aim at being needlessly singular, nor prac-
tise self-devised austerities. The Christian is neither a
Stoic nor a Cynic ; yet he finds daily cause for watch-
fulness and restraint. Satan will not often tempt a
believer to gross crimes : our greatest snares and sorest
conflicts are usually found in thin-^s lawful in them-
selves, but hurtful to us by their abuse, engrossing too
much of our time, or of our hearts, or somehow in-
disposing us for communion with the Lord. The
Christian will be jealous of any thing that might en-
tangle his affections, dampliis zeal, or straighten him in
602 Letters to a Nobleman. Let» 24.
his opportunities of serving his Saviour. He is likewise
content with his situation, because the Lord chooses it
for him ; his spirit is not eager for additions and alter-
ations in his circumstances. If Divine Providence
points out and leads to a change, he is ready to follow,
thoush it should be what the world would call from a
better to a worse ; for he is a pilgrim and a stranger
here, and a citizen of heaven. As people of fortune
sometimes, in travelling, submit cheerfully to incon-
venient accommodations, very different from their
homes, and comfort themselves with thinking they are
not always to live so ; so the Christian is not greatly
solicitous about externals. If he has them, he will
use them moderately. If he has but little of them,
he can make a good shift without them : he is but upon
a journey, and will soon be at home. If he be rich,
experience confirms our Lord's words, Luke xii. 15.;
and satisfies him, that a large room, a crowd of ser-
vants, and twenty dishes upon his table, add nothing
to the real happiness of life. Therefore he will not
have his heart set upon such things. If he be in a
humbler state, he is more disposed to pity than to envy
those above him ; for he judges they must have many
encumbrances from which he is freed. However, the
will of God, and the light of his countenance, are the
chief things the Christian, whether rich or poor, re-
gards ; and therefore his moderation is made known
unto all men.
A third branch of the Christian's temper respects his
fellow-creatures. And here, methinks, if I had not
filled a sheet already, I could enlarge with pleasure.
We have, in this degenerate day, among tliose who
claim, and are allowed the name of Christian, too many
of a narrow, selfish, mercenary spirit ; but in the be*
Let. 2-1;. Letters to a Nolleirian. SOS"
ginning it was not so. The Gospel is designed to cure
such a spirit, but gives no indulgence to it. A Chris-
tian has the mind of Christ, who went about doing
good, who makes his sun to shine upon the good and
the evil, and sendeth rain on the just and the unjust.
His Lord's example forms him to the habit of diffusive
benevolence ; he breathes a spirit of good- will to man-
kind, and rejoices in every opportunity of being useful
to the souls and bodies of others, without res^ject to
parties or interests. He commiserates, and would, if
possible, alleviate, the miseries of all around him ; and
if his actual services are restrained by want of ability,
yet all share in his sympathy and prayers. Acting in
the spirit of his Master, he frequently meets with a
measure of the like treatment ; but if his good is re-
quited with evil, he labours to overcome evil with
good. He feels himself a sinner, and needs much for-
giveness : this makes him ready to forgive. He is not
haughty, captious, easily offended, or hard to be recon-
ciled ; for at the feet of Jesus he has learned meekutss;
and when he meets with unkindness or injustice, he
considers, that, though he has not deserved such things
from men, they are instruments employed by his hea-
venly Father, (from whom he has deserved to suffer
much more,) for his humiliation and chastisement; and
is therefore more concerned for their sins than for his
own sufferings, and prays, after the pattern of his Sa-
viour, " Father, forgive them, for they know not what
" they do !" He knows he is fallible ; therefore cannot
be positive. He knows he is frail ; and therefore dares
not be censorious. As a member of society, he is just,
punctual in the discharge of every relative duty, faith-
ful to his engagements and promises, rendering to all
their dues, obedient to lawful authority, and actincr to
Vol. I. 3 T
504: Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 24,
all men according to the golden rule, of doing as he
would be done by. His conduct is simple, devoid of
artifice, and consistent, attending to every branch of
duty ; and in the closet, the family, the church, and in
the transactions of common life, he is the same man ;
for in every circumstance he serves the Lord, and aims
to maintain a conscience void of offence in his sight.
No small part of the beauty of his profession in the
sight of men, consists in the due government of his
tongue. The law of truth, and kindness, and purity,
is upon his lips. He abhors lying; and is so far from
inventing a slander, that he will not repeat a report to
the disadvantage of his neighbour, however true, with-
out a proper call. His converse is cheerful, but inof-
fensive ; and he will no more wound another with his
wit, (if he has a talent that way,) than with a knife.
His speech is with grace, seasoned with salt, and suited
to promote the peace and edification of all around him.
Such is the Christian in civil life ; but though he
loves all mankind, he stands in a nearer relation, and
bears an especial brotherly love, to all who are pai'-
takcrs of the faith and hope of the Gospel. This re-
gard is not confined within the pale of a denomination,
but extended to all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in
sincerity. He calls no man master himself; nor does
he wish to impose a Shibboleth of his own upon others.
He rejoices in the image of God, wherever he sees it,
and in the work of God, wherever it is carried on.
Though tenacious of the truths which the Lord has
taucfht him, his heart is open to those who differ from
him in less essential points, and allows to others that
right of private judgment which he claims for himself,
and is disposed to hold communion in love with all who
hold the head. He cannot indeed countenance those
Let. 2k Letters to a Nobleman. 505
who set aside the one foundation which God has laid in
Zion, and maintain errors derogatory to the honour of
his Saviour, or subversive of the faith and experience of
his people ; yet he wishes well to their persons, pities
and prays for them, and is ready in meekness to in-
struct them that oppose : but there is no bitterness in
his zeal, being sensible that raillery and invective are
dishonourable to the cause of truth, and quite unsuit-
able in the mouth of a sinner, who owes all that dis-
tinguishes him from the vilest of men to the free grace
of God. In a word, he is influenced by the wisdom
from above, which, as it is pure, is likewise peace-
able, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy
and good works, without partiality, and without hy-
pocrisy.
I must just recur to my first head, and observe, that
with this spirit and deportment, the Christian, while he
is enabled to maintain a conscience void of offence to-
wards God and man, is still sensible and mindful of in-
dwelling sin : he has his eye more upon his rule than
upon his attainments ; and therefore finds and con-
fesses, that in every thing he comes exceedingly short,
and that his best services are not only defective but de-
filed : he accounts himself an unprofitable servant, is
abased in his own eyes, and derives all his hope and
comfort, as well as his strength, from Jesus, whom he
has known, received, and trusted ; to whom he has com-
mitted his soul ; in whom he rejoices, and worships God
in the spirit, renouncing all confidence in the flesh, and
esteeming all things as loss, for the excellency of the
knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord.
If I have lately been rather tardy in making my pay-
ments to your lordship, I have proportionably increased
the quantity. It is high time I should now relieve your
506 Letters to a Nobleman. L<^{. 2b,
patience. I hope I long to be a Christian indeed ; and
I hope this hasty exennplifieation of my wishes will an-
swer to your lordship's experience better than I fear it
does to my own. May I beg a remembrance in your
prayers, that he who has given me to will and desire,
may work in me to be and to do according to his own
good pleasure.
I am, &c.
LETTER XXV.
My Lord, November — 1776.
M-
.Y London journey, which prevented my writing in
October, made me amends by an opportunity of wait-
ing upon your lordship in person. Such seasons are
not only pleasant at the time, but afford me pleasure
in the review. I could have wished the half hour we
were together by ourselves prolonged to half a day.
The subject your lordship was pleased to suggest has
been often upon my mind ; and glad should I be, were
I able to offer you any thing satisfactory upon it. —
There is no doubt but first religious impressions are
usually mingled with much of a legal spirit ; and that
conscience at such a time is not only tender, but mis-
informed and scrupulous : and I believe, as your lord-
ship intimated, that when the mind is more enlightened,
and we feel a liberty from many fetters we had im-
posed upon ourselves, we are in danger of verging too
far towards the other extreme. It seems to me that
no one person can adjust the medium, and draw the
line exactly for another. There are so many particu-
lars in every situation, of which a stranger cannot be a
competent judge, and the best human advices and mo-
Let. 25. Letters to a Nol/levuin. 507
dels are mixed with such defects, that it is not right to
expect others to be absolutely guided by our rules, nor
is it safe for us implicitly to adopt the decisions or prac-
tices of others. But the Scripture undoubtedly fur-
nishes sufficient and infallible rules for every person,
however circumstanced ; and the throne of grace is ap-
pointed for us to wait upon the Lord for the best ex-
position of his precepts. Thus David often prays to be
led in the right way, in the path of judgment. By
frequent prayer, and close acquaintance with the Scrip-
ture, and an habitual attention to the frame of our
hearts, there is a certain delicacy of spiritual taste and
discernment to be acquired, which renders a nice dis-
quisition concerning the nature and limits of the Adia-
phora, as they are called, or how near we may go to the
utmost bounds of what is right, without being wrong,
quite unnecessary. Love is the clearest and most per-
suasive casuist; and when our love to the Lord is in
lively exercise, and the rule of his word is in our eye,
we seldom make great mistakes. And I believe the
overdoings of a young convert, proceeding from an ho-
nest simplicity of heart, and a desire of pleasing the
Lord, are more acceptable in his sight than a certain
coolness of conduct, which frequently takes place after-
ward, when we are apt to look back with pity upon our
former weakness, and secretly to applaud ourselves for
our present greater attainments in knowledge, though
perhaps, (alas, that it should ever be so !) we may have
lost as nmch in warmth as we have gained in light.
From the time we know the Lord, and are bound to
him by the cords of love and gratitude, the two chief
points we should have in our view, I apprehend, are to
maintain communion with him in our own souls, and
to glorify him in tire sight of men. Agreeable to these
508 Letters to a NoMenian. Let. 25.
views, though the Scripture does not enumerate or de-
cide totidem verbis, for or against many things which
some plead for, and others condemn ; yet it furnishes
us with some general canons, which if rightly applied,
^vill perhaps go a good way towards settling the debate,
at least to the satisfaction of those who would rather
please God than man. Some of these canons I will
just mark to 3'our lordship : Rom. xii. 1,2. 1 Cor.
viii. 13. and x. 31. 2 Cor. vi. 17. Ephes. iv. 30.
Ephes. V. 11. 15, 16. 1 Thes. v. 22. Ephes. vi. 18.
to which I may add, as suitable to the present times,
Isa. xxii. 12. Luke xxi. 34. I apprehend the spirit of
these and similar passages of Scripture, (for it would be
easy to adduce a larger number,) will bring a Christian
under such restrictions as follow.
To avoid and forbear, for his own sake, whatever
has a tendency to damp and indispose his spirit in at-
tendance upon the means of grace ; for such things,
if they be not condemned as sinful per se, if they be not
absolutely unlawful, yea, though they be, when duly re-
gulated, lawful and right, (for often our chief snares are
entwined m- ith our blessings ;) yet if they have a re-
peated and evident tendency to deaden our hearts to
divine things, of which each person's experience must
determine, there must be something in them, either in
season, measure, or circumstance, wrong to us ; and
let them promise what they will, they do but rob us of
our gold to pay us with counters. For the light of
God's countenance, and an open cheerfulness of spirit
in walking with him in private, is our chief joy ; and
we must be already greatly hurt, if any thing can be
pursued, allowed, or rested in, as a tolerable substi-
tute for it.
For the sake of the church, and the influence example
Let. 25. Letters to a Nobleman. 509
may have upon his fellow Christians, the law of charity
and prudence will often require a believer to abstain
from some things, not because they are unlawful, but
inexpedient. Thus the apostle, though strenuous for
the riii'ht of his Christian liberty, would have abridi^ed
himself of the use, so as to eat no meat, rather than
offend a weak brother, rather than mislead him to act
against the present light of his conscience. Upon this
principle, if I could, without hurt to myself, attend
some public amusements, as a concert or oratorio, and
return from thence with a warm heart to my closet,
(the possibility of which, in my own case, I greatly
question ;) yet I should think it my duty to forbear,
lest some weaker than myself should be encouraged by
me to make the like experiment, though in their own
minds they might fear it was wrong, and have no other
reason to think it lawful but because I did it : in which
case I should suspect, that though I received no harm,
they would. And I have known and conversed with
some who I fear have made shipwreck of their pro-
fession, who have dated their first decline from imita-
ting others, whom they thought wiser and better than
themselves, in such kind of compliances. And it seems
that an obligation of this sort of self-denial rises and is
strengthened in proportion to the weight and influence
of our characters. Were I in private life, I do not
know that I should think it sinful to kill a partridge or
a hare ; but, as a minister, I no more dare do it than I
dare join in a drunken frolic, because I know it would
give offence to some, and be pleaded for as a license by
others.
There is a duty, and a charity likewise, which we
owe to the w^orld at large, as well as a faithfulness to
God and his grace, in our necessary converse among
*c^
510 Letters to a Noblemm. Let. 25,
them. This seems to require, that though we should
not be needlessly singular, yet, for their instruction, and
for the honour of our Lord and Master, we should
keep up a certain kind of singularity, and show our-
selves called to be a separated people : that though the
providence of God has given us callings and relations
to fill up, (in which we cannot be too exact,) yet we are
not of the world, but belong to another community, and
act from other principles, by other rules, and to other
ends, than the generality of those about us. I have
observed that the world will often leave professors in
quiet possession of their notions and sentiments, and
places of worship, provided they will not be too stiff
in the matter of conformity with their more general
customs and amusements. But I fear many of them
have had their prejudices strengthened against our holy
religion by such compliances, and have thought tliat if
there Avere such joy and comfort to be found in the
ways of God as they hear from our pulpits, professors
would not, in such numbers, and so often, run amongst
them to beg a relief from the burden of time hanging
upon their hands. As our Lord Jesus is the great re-
presentative of his people in heaven, he does them the
honour to continue a succession of them as his repre-
sentatives upon earth. Happy are they who are fa-
voured with most of the holy unction, and best enabled
to manifest to all around them, by their spirit, tempers,
and conversation, what is the proper design and genuine
effect of his Gospel upon the hearts of sinners.
In our way of little life in the country, serious peo^
pie often complain of the snares they meet with from
worldly people, and yet they must mix with them to get
a livelihood. I advise them, if they can, to do their
business with the world as thev do it in the rain. If
het. 25. Letters to a Nobleman, 511
their business calls them abroad, they will not leave it
undone for fear of being a little wet ; but then, when
it is done, they presently seek shelter, and will not stand
in the rain for pleasure ; so providential and necessary
calls of duty, that lead us into the world, will not hiirt
us, if we find the spirit of the world unpleasant, and
are glad to retire from it, and keep out of it as much
as our relative duties will permit. That which is our
cross, is not so likely to be our snare ; but if that spirit,
■which we should always watch and pray against, in-
fects and assimilates our minds to itself, then we are
sure to suffer loss, and act below the dignity of our
profession.
The value of time is likewise to be taken into the
account. It is a precious talent, and our Christian
profession opens a wide field for the due improvement
of it. Much of it has been already lost, and therefore we
are exhorted to redeem it. I think many things Avhich
custom pleads for will be excluded from a suitableness
to a Christian, for this one reason, that they are not
consistent with the simplest notion of the redemption of
time. It is generally said we need relaxation ; I allow
it in a sense: the Lord himself has provided it; and
because our spirits are too weak to be always upon the
Aving in meditation and prayer, he has appointed to all
men, from the king downwards, something to do in a
secular way. The poor are to labour, the rich are not
exempted from something equivalent. And v, hen every
thing of this sort in each person's situation is properly
attended to, I apprehend, if the heart be alive, and
in a right state, spiritual concernments will present
themselves, as afford ing the noblest, sweetest, and most
interesting relaxation from the cares and business of
life ; as, on the other hand, that business will be the
Vol. T, 3 II
512 Lcllcrs to a XuLleman. Let. 25.
best relaxation and unbending of the mind from reli-
gious exercises ; and, between the two, perhaps there
ou2;ht to be but little mere leisure time. A life in this
seiisc, divided between God and the world, is desirable,
^\'ilen one part of it is spent in retirement, seeking after
and conversing with him whom our souls love ; and the
other part of it employed in active services for the good
of our family, friends, the church, and societ}^, for his
sake. Every hour which does not fall in with one or
other of these views, 1 apprehend is lost time.
The day in which we live seems likewise to call for
something of a peculiar spirit in the Lord's people.
It is a day of abounding sin, and I fear a day of im-
pending judgment. The world, as it was in tlie days
of Noah and Lot, is secure. We are soon to have a
day of apparent humiliation ; but the just causes for it
are not confined to one day, but will subsist, and too
probably increase every day. If I am not m.istaken in
the signs of the times, there never was, within the an-
nals of the English history, a period in which the spirit
and employment described, Ezek. ix. 4. could be more
suitable than the present. The Lord calls for mourn-
ing and weeping, but the words of many are stout
against him ; new species of dissipation are invented
almost daily, and the language of those who bear the
greatest svray in what is called tlie polite circle, I mean
the interpretative language of their hearts, is like that
of the rebellious Jews, Jer. xliv. 16, 17, Sec. " As for
'' the word which thou hast spoken, we will not hearken
'■• unto thee at all." In short, things are coming to a ■
point, and it seems to be ahnost putting to the vote
whether the Lord or Baal be God. In this state of
aftairs, mcthinks, we cannot be too explicit in avowing
our attachment to the Lord, nor too carchd in avoiding
Let. 25. Letters to a Noljleman. 513
an improper correspondence with those who are in con-
federacy against him. We know not how soon we may
ii;reatly need that mark of providential protection which
is restrained to those who sigh and cry for our abomi-
nations. Upon the whole, it appears to me, tliat it is
more honourable, comfortable, and safe, (if we cannot
exactly hit the golden mean,) to be thought by some
too scrupulous and precise, than actually to be found
too compliant with those things which, if not absolutely
contrary to a divine commandment, are hardly compa-
tible with the genius of the Gospel, or conformable to
the mind that -was in Christ Jesus, which ought also to
be in his peojile. The places and amusements which
the world frequent and admire, where occasions and
temptations to sin are cultivated, where the law of what
is called good breeding is the only law w hich may not
be violated with impunity, where sinful passions are
provoked and indulged, where the fear of God is so
little known or regarded, that those who do fear him
inust hold their tongues though they should hear his
name blasphemed, can hardly be a Christian's voluntary
chosen ground. Yet I fear these characters will apply-
to every kind of polite amusement or assembly in the
kingdom.
As to family connexions, I cannot think we are
bound to break or slight them. But as believers and
their friends often live as it were in two elements, there
is a mutual awkwardness, which makes their inter-
views rather dry and tedious. But upon that account
they are less frequent than they would otherwise be,
which seems an advantage. Both sides keep up re-
turns of civility and affection ; but as they cannot unite
in sentiment and leading inclination, they will not con-
trive to be very often together, except there is some-
514} Letters to a Nobleman. Let. 2(>.
thing considerable given up by one or tlie other ; and
I think Christians ought to be very cautious what con-
cessions they make upon this account. But, as I said
at the beginning, no general positive rules can be laid
down.
I have simply given your lordship such thoughts as
have occurred to me while writing, without study, and
■without coherence. I dare not be dogmatical ; but I
think what I have written is agreeable both to particu-
lar texts and to the general tenor of Scripture. I sub-
mit it to your judgment.
f I am, &c.
LETTER XXVI.
My Lord, July— 1777.
OWE your lordship a quire of letters, for the favour
and pleasure of your late visit ; and therefore I must
begin and w rite away.
I have lately read Robertson's History of Charles V.
which, like most other histories, I consider as a com-
ment upon those passages of Scripture which teach us
the depravity of man, the deceitfulness of the heart, the
ruinous effects of sin, and the powerful, though secret,
rule of Divine Providence, moving, directing, conti'ol-
linti the designs and actions of men, with an unerrinii
hand, to the accomplishment of his own purposes, both
of mercy and judgment. Without the clue and the
light which the word of God affords, the history of
mankind, of any, of every age, only presents to view a
labyrinth and a chaos ; a detail of wickedness and
misery to make us tremble, and a confused jumble of
interfering incidents, as destitute of stability, connex-
Let. 26. Letters to a Nobleman. 515
ion, or order, as the clouds which fly over our heads.
In this view, Ddlrant reges, plectuntur Ac/nii, may
serve as a motto to all the histories I have seen. Lut
with the Scripture key, all is plain, all is instructive.
Then I see, verily there is a God, who governs the
earth, who pours contempt upon princes, takes the
wise in their own craftiness, over-rules the Mrath and
pride of man, to bring his own designs to pass, and re-
strains all that is not necessary to that end ; blasting
the best concerted enterprises at one time, by means
apparently slight, and altogether unexpected, and at
other times j)roducing the most important events, from
instruments and circumstances which are at lirst
thoufrht too feeble and trivial to deserve notice. I
should like to see a writer of Dr. Robertson's abilities
give us a history upon this plan ; but I think his reflec-
tions of this sort are too general, too cold, and too iew.
What an empty phantom do the great men of the world
pursue, while they wage war with the peace of man-
kind, and butcher, (in the course of their lives,) per-
haps hundreds of thousands, to maintain the shadow of
authority over distant nations, whom they can reach
with no other influence than that of oppression and de-
vastation ! But when we consider those who are sacri-
ficed to their ambition, as justly suffering for their sins,
then heroes and conquerors appear in their proper
light, and worthy to be classed with earthquakes and
pestilences, as instruments of divine vengeance. So
many cares, so much pains, so many mischiefs, merely
to support the idea a worm has formed of his own gran-
deur, is a proof that man, by nature, is not only de-
praved, but infatuated. Permit me to present my
thoughts to more advantage, in t!ie words of M.
Nicole : — ■
5iG * Letters to a Nobleviau. Let 2G.
'' Un grand dans son idee n'est pas un seul homme ;
" c'est un homme environn6 de tous ceux qui sonta
^' lui, et qui s'imagine avoir autant de bras qu'ils en ont
" tous ensemble, parce qu'il en dispose et qu'il les re-
" mue. Un general d'arm6e se represente toujours a
" lui-meme, au milieu de tous ses soldats. Ainsi
" chacun tache d'occuper le plus de place quil pent
" dans son imagination, et I'on nc se poussc, et ne
" s'agrandit dans le monde, que pour augmentir I'idee
" que chacun se forme de soi-m^me. Voila le but de
" tous les desseins ambitieux des hommes ! Alexandre
" et Cassar n'ont point eu d'autre vue dans toutcs leurs
" batailles que celle-la. Et si Ton demande pourquoi
" le grand seigneur a fait depuis pen perir cent mille
" hommes devant Candle, on pent repondre surement,
" que ce n'est que pour attacher encore a cette image
" interieure qu'il a de lui-meme, le titre de conque-
" rant*."
How awful is the case of those who live and die in
such a spirit, and who have multiplied miseries upon
their fellow-creatures, in order to support and feed it !
Perhaps they may, upon their entrance on another
state, be accosted by multitudes, to the purport of that
sarcastical language in the prophet's sublime ode of
triumph over the king of Babylon, Isa. xiv. 5 — 17.
Hlc cs/, (jiiemfiiga, quern flavor
Pracessit ? Iiicy cjucm tcrricolis gravem
Strages secula est, vastilasque P hie
Attoniti spoliator orbis ?
But though the effects of this principle of self are
more extensive and calamitous, in proportion as tliosc
* Essais De Morale, Vol. I.
Let. 20. Letters to a Noblemcm. 517
nbo are governed by it are more elevated, the principle
itself is deep-rooted in every heart, and is the spring of
everv action, till grace infuses a new principle, and self,
like Dagon, falls before the Lord of hosts. Great and
small are but relative terms ; and the passions of dis-
content, pride, and envy, which, in the breast of a po-
tentate, are severely felt by one half of Europe, exert
themselves with equal strength in the heart of a peasant,
though, for want of materials and opportunities, their
operations are confined v, ithin narrow bounds. Vv'e
are fallen into a state of gross idolatry, and self is the
>f!ol Me worship.
I am, o:c.
MISCELLANEOUS
€OFvRESPONID>EN€E»
Vol. I. 3 X
I
EIGHT LETTERS
TO THE
Rev. Mr. S****.
LETTER I.
Dear Sir, June 23, 1775.
HAVE met with interruptions till now, or you would
have heard from me sooner. ]\Iy thoughts have run
much upon the subject of your last, because I perceive
it has a near connexion with your peace. Your inte-
grity greatly pleases me ; far be it from me to shake the
principle of your conduct ; yet, in the application, I
think there is a possibility of carrying your exceptions
too far.
From the account you give me of your sentiments, I
cannot but wonder you find it so difficult to accede to
the Athanasian Creed, when it seems to me you believe
and avow what that creed chiefly sets forth. The doc-
trine of the Trinity, some explication of the terms beincp
subjoined, is the Catholic Faith ; without the belief of
which a man cannot be saved. This damnatory clause
seems to me proved by Mark xvi. \6. " He that be-
" lieveth shall be saved," &c. The object of faith must
be truth. The doctrine of the Deity of Christ, and of
the Holy Spirit, in union with the Father, so that they
are not three Gods, but one God, is not merely a pro-
position expressed in words, to which our assent is re-
quired, but is absolutely necessary to be known; since
without it no one truth respecting salvation can be
rightly understood, no one promise duly believed, no
one duty spiritually performed. I take it for granted,
that this doctrine must appear irrational and absurd in
the 63^6 of reason, if by reason we mean the reason of
522 Letters to the Rev, Mr. S ****. Let. 1.
man in his fallen state, before it is corrected and en-
lightened by a heavenly teacher. No man can say
Jesus is Lord, but by the Holy Ghost. I believe with
you, that a man may be saved who never heard of the
creed, who never read any book but the New Testa-
ment, or perhaps a single evangelist ; but he must be
taught of God the things that accompany salvation, or I
do not think he can be saved. The mercies of God in
Christ will not save any, (as I apprehend,) but accord-
ing to the method revealed in his word, that is, those
who are truly partakers of faith and holiness. For as
the religion of the New Testament ascribes all power to
God, and considers all goodness in us as the effect of
his communication, we being by nature destitute of
spiritual life or light ; so those whom God himself is
pleased to teach, will infallibly attain the knowledge of
all that they are concerned to know. This teaching
you are waiting for, and it shall be given you ; yea, the
Lord, I trust, has begun to teach you already: but if
you consider yourself as a learner, and that it is possi-
ble, under the Spirit's increasing illumination, you may
hereafter adopt some things which at present you can-
not approve, I should think it too early as yet to pre-
scribe to yourself rules and determinations for the go-
vernment of your future life. Should the will of God
appoint you a new path for service, he may, sooner than
you are aware, quiet your mind, and enable you to sub-
scribe with as full a persuasion of mind, as you now
object to subscription. If it depended upon me, I could
be content that the creed should rest at the bottom of
the sea, rather than embarrass a single person oi your
disposition. Nor am I a warm stickler for subscription
in itself; but something of this kind seems necessary
npon the supposition of an establishment.
Let. i. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. 623
When I think of an inclosure, some hedge^ wall, bank,
ditch, &;c. is of course included in my idea ; for who
can conceive of an inclosure without a boundary ? So,
in a national church, there must be, I apprehend, some-
thing marked out, the approbation or refusal of which
will determine w^ho do or do not belong to it : and fov
this purpose articles of some kind seem not improper.
You think it would be better to have these articles in
Scriptural expressions. 13ut if it be lawful to endea-
vour to exclude from our pulpits men who hold senti-
ments the most repugnant to the truth, I wish you to
consider, whether this can be in any measure secured
by articles in which the Scripture-doctrines are not ex-
plained and stated, as well as expressed. This pro-
posal is strenuously pleaded for by many in our da}^,
upon views very different from yours. The Socinians,
for instance, would readily subscribe a Scriptural de-
claration of the high priesthood, atonement, and inter-
cession of Christ, (while they are allowed to put their
own sense upon the terms ;) though the sense they main-
tain be utterly inconsistent with what those who are en-
lightened by the Holy Spirit learn from the same ex-
pressions.
I acknowledge, indeed, that the end is not answered
by the present method ; since there are too many, like
the person you mention, who would easily subscribe
nine hundred articles, rather than balk his preferment :
yet the profligacy of some seems to be no just reason
why the church, why any church, should not be at
liberty to define the terms upon which they will accept
members or teachers, or why conscientious persons
should object to these terms, (if they think them agree-
able to the truth,) merely because they are not expressed
in the precise words of Scripture. If allowance may be
5:^i Letters to the Bev. Mr. 5****. Let. I .
made for human infirmity in the Liturgy, I see not why
the Articles may not be entitled to the same privilege.
For it seems requisite that we should be as well satisfied
with the expressions we use with our lips, in frequent
solemn prayer to God, as in what we subscribe with
our hands. I am persuaded that the leaders of the As-
sociation at the Feathers Tavern, some of them at least,
though they begin with the affair of subscription, would
not, (if they might have their wish,) stop there, but would
go on with their projected reform, till they had over-
turned the Liturgy also, or at least weeded it from every
expression that bears testimony to the Deity of the Sa-
viour, and the efficacious influence of the Holy Spirit.
I bless God that you are far otherwise minded.
I hope, however, though you should not think your-
bclf at liberty to repeat your subscription, the Lord will
make you comfortable and useful in your present rank
as a curate. Preferment is not necessary, either to our
peace or usefulness. We may live and die contentedly,
without the honours and emoluments which aspiring
men thirst after, if he be pleased to honour us with a
dispensation to preach his Gospel, and to crown our
endeavours with a blessintj. He that winncth souls is
■wise; wise in the choice of the highest end he can pro-
pose to himself in this life; wise in the improvement of
the only means by which this desirable end can be at-
tained. Wherever we cast our eyes, the bulk of the
])eople are ignorant, immoral, careless. They live with-
out God in the world ; they are neither awed by his au-
thority, nor affected by his goodness, nor enabled to trust
to his promises, nor disposed to aim at his glory. If,
perhaps, they have a serious interval, or some compa-
rative sobriety of character, they ground their hopes
upon their own doings, endeavours, or purposes ; and
Let. 1. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5***#, 535
treat the inexpressible love of God revealed in Christ,
and the Gospel-method of salvation by faith in his
name, with neglect, often with contempt. They have
preachers, whom perhaps they hear with some pleasure,
because they neither alarm their consciences by insist-
ing on the spirituality and sanction of the divine law,
nor offend their pride by publishing the humiliating doc-
trines of that Gospel, which is the power of God through
faith unto salvation. Therefore what they do speak,
they speak in vain ; the world grows worse and worse
under their instructions ; infidelity and profligacy abound
more and more ; for God will own no other doctrine
but what the apostle calls the truth as it is in Jesus ;
that doctrine which drives the sinner from all his vain
pleas, and points out the Lord Jesus Christ as the only
ground of hope, the supreme object of desire, as ap-
pointed of God to be wisdom, righteousness, sanctifica-
tion, and redemption, to all who believe in his name.
When ministers themselves are convinced of sin, and
feel the necessity of an Almighty Saviour, they presently
account their former gain but loss, and determine, with
the apostle, to know nothing but Jesus Christ, and him
crucified. In proportion as they do this, they are sure
to be wondered at, laughed at, and railed at, if the pro-
vidence of God, and the constitution of their countr}',
secure them from severer treatment. — But they have
this invaluable compensation, that they no longer speak
without effect. In a greater or less degree a change
takes place in their auditories : — the blind receive their
sight, the deaf hear, the lepers are cleansed ; — sinners
are turned from darkness to light, and from the power
of Satan to God ; — sinful practices are forsaken ; and a
new course of life in the converts, evidences that they
have not followed cunningly devised fables, nor taken up
525 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. Let. 1.
with uncertain notions ; but that God has indeed quick-
ened them by his Spirit, and given them an understand-
ing to know him that is true. The preachers, likewise,
while they attempt to teach others, are taught them-
selves : a blessing descends upon their studies and la-
bours, upon their perusal of the Scripture, upon their
attention to what passes within them and around them :
the events of every day contribute to throw light upon
the word of God ; their views of divine truth grow more
enlarged, connected, and comprehensive ; many diffi-
culties which perplexed them at their first setting out,
trouble them no more ; the God whom they serve, and
on whom they wait, reveals to them those great things,
which, though plainly expressed in the letter oi the
Scripture, cannot be understood and realized without
divine teaching, 1 Cor. ii. 9 — 15. Thus they go on
from strength to strength, hard things become easy, and
a divine light shines upon their paths. Opposition from
men perhaps may increase : they may expect to be re-
presented as those who turn the world upside down ;
the cry i^iy»\-n « a§t£/^k* will be raised against them, the
gates of the temple of preferment will be seldom open
to them ; but they will have the unspeakable consola-
tion of applying to themselves those lively words of the
apostle, wj AvTry/xEvoj, a,u ^i jj^atfovTEj* wj ■s'Twp^oi, voXXtn; ^i vXan^ovTii''
It is the strain of evident sincerity which runs through
your letters, that gives me a pleasing confidence the Lord
is with you. A disinterested desire of knowing the
truth, with a willingness to follow it through all disad-
vantages, is a preparation of the heart which only God
can give. He has directed you to the right method,
searching the Scripture, with prayer. Go on, and may
* Gi-cat is Duina. t 2 Cor. vi. !"•
Let. 1. Letters to the Rev. Mr. <S****. 527
his blessing attend you. You may see from what I
have written above, what is the desire of ray heart for
you. But I am not impatient. FoIIoav your heavenly
leader, and in his own time and manner he will make
your way plain. I have travelled the path before you,
I see what you yet want; I cannot impart it to you,
but he can, and I trust he will. It will rejoice my soul
to be any way assistant to you ; but I am afraid I should
not atford you much, either profit or satisfaction, by en-
tering upon a dry defence of creeds and articles.
The truths of Scripture are not like mathematical the-
orems, which present exactly the same ideas to every
person who understands the terms. The word of God
is compared to a mirror, 2 Cor, iii. 18.; but it is a
mirror in which the longer we look, the more we see ;
the view will be still growing upon us ; and still we
shall see but in part while on this side eternity. When
our Lord pronounced Peter blessed, declaring he had
learnt that which flesh and blood could not have taught
him, yet Peter was at that time much in the dark. The
sufferings and death of Jesus, though the only and ne-
cessary means of his salvation, were an offence to him.
But he lived to glory in what he once could not bear to
hear of. Peter had received grace to love the Lord
Jesus, to follow him, to venture all, and to forsake all
for him : these first good dispositions were of God, and
they led to further advances. So it is still. By na-
ture, self rules in the heart ; when this idol is brought
low, and we are truly willing to be the Lord's, and to
apply to him for strength and direction, that \^e may
serve him, the good work is begun ; for it is a truth
that holds universally and without exception, a man can
receive nothing except it be given him from heaven.
The Lord first finds us when we are thinking of some-
Vol. L " 3 Y
538 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. Let. 1.
thing else, Isaiah Ixv. 1. and then we begin to seek
him in good earnest, and he has promised to hQ found
of us. People may, by industry and natural abilities,
make themselves masters of the external evidences of
Christianity, and have much to say for and against dif-
ferent schemes and systems of sentiments ; but all this
Avhile the heart remains untouched. True rclimon is not
a science of the head, so much as an inward and heart-
felt perception, which casts down imaginations, and
every v-^^u^a. that exalteth itself in the mind, and brings
every thought into a sweet and willing subjection to
Christ by faith. Here the learned have no real ad-
vantage above the ignorant ; both see when the eyes of
the understanding are enlightened ; till then both are
equally blind. And the first lesson in the school of
Christ is to become a little child, sitting simply at his
feet, that we may be made wise unto salvation.
I y\'as not only prevented beginning my letter so soon
as I wished, but have been unusually interrupted since
I began it. Often, as soon as I could well take the pen
in hand, I have been called away to attend company
and intervening business. Though I persuade myself,
after what I have formerly said, you will put a favour-
able construction upon my delay, yet it has given me
some pain. I set a great value upon your offer of
friendship, which I trust will not be interrupted on
either side, by the freedom with which we mutually ex-
press our difference of sentiments, when we are con-
strained to differ. You please me with intrusting me
with the first rough draught of your thoughts ; and you
may easily perceive by my manner of writing, that I
place equal confidence in your candour. .1 shall be
glad to exchange letters as often as it suits us, without
constraint, ceremony, or apology ; and may he who is
Let. 2. Letters to tJie Rev. Mr. 6'****. 529
always present with our hearts, make our correspond-
ence useful. I pray God to be your sun and shield,
your light and strength, to guide you with his eye, to
comfort you with his gracious presence in your own
soul, and to make you a happy instrument of comfort-
ing many.
I
LETTER II.
My Dear Friend, July 14, 1775.
GLADLY adopt your address, and can assure you
that the interchange of every letter unites my heart more
closely to you. I am glad to find that your views of
articles and creeds are not likely to hinder you from
going forward in your present situation : and if, without
contracting your usefulness, they only prove a bar to
your preferment, I am sure it will be no grief of mind
to you at the hour of death, or the day of judgment,
that you were enabled to follow the dictates of conscience,
in opposition to all the pleas of custom or interest. —
Since, therefore, I have no desire of shaking your re-
solves, may we not drop this subject entirely? For in-
deed I act but an awkward part in it, being by no means
m3^self an admirer of articles and creeds, or disposed to
be a warm advocate for church power. The propriety
of our national establishment, or of any other, is what I
have not much to do with ; I found it as it is, nor have I
influence to alter it were I willing. The question in which
I was concerned was simply, Whether I, rchus sic stan-
tibus, could submit to it, so as conscientiously to take a
designation to the ministry under it ? I thought I could ;
I accordingly did, and I am thankful that I never have
seen cause to repent it.
530 Letters to the Rev, Mr. ,S****. Let. 2.
You seem gently to charge me with a want of candour
in what I observed or apprehended concerning the gen-
tleman of the Feathers Tavern. If I mistake not, (for I
retain no copies of my letters,) I expressed myself with
a double restriction, by first saying the leaders of that
society, and then adding, or some of' tliem at least. I
apprehend your candour will hardly lead you to suppose,
that there are none amongst them who would pull down
the whole fabric, (that is, I mean so far as it crosses the
Socinian scheme,) if it was left to their choice. I ap-
prehend I may, w ithout the least breach of candour, sup-
pose that the exceptions which I\Ir. Lindsay has made
to the Liturgy are not peculiar to himself It seems
plain in his case, and from his own writings, that the
mere removal of subscriptions, which is the immediate
and ostensible object of the clerical petition, could not
have satisfied him ; and it is past a doubt with me, that
there are others of the clergy like-minded with him.
Indeed I could wish to be thought candid by you ;
though, I confess, I am not a friend to that lukewarmness
and indifterence for truth, which bears the name of can-
dour among many in the present day. I desire to main-
tain a spirit of candour and benevolence to all men, to
wish them well, to do them every good office in my
power, and commend what appears to me conimend-
able in a Socinian, as readily as in a Calvinist. But
with some people I can only go usque ad aras. I must
judge of principles by the word of God, and of the tree
by its fruit. I meddle with no man's final state ; be-
cause I know that he who is exalted to give repentance
and remission of sins, can do it whenever, and to u hum-
soever, he is pleased : yet I finnly believe, and I make
no scrupie of pi'oclaiming it, tiiat sv\earcrs, drunkards,
adulterers, continuing such, cannot inherit the kingdom
Let. 2. Litters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. 531
of God : and I look with no less compassion upon some
persons whose characters in common life may be re-
spectable, when 1 see them unhappily blinded by their
own wisdom ; and while they account themselves, and
are accounted by many others, master-builders in Zion,
rejecting the only foundation upon w hich a sinner's
hope can be safely built.
I am far from thinking the Socinians all hypocrites,
but I think they are all in a most dangerous error ; nor
do their principles exhibit to my view a whit more of
the genuine fruits of Christianity than deism itself. You
say, " If they be sincere, and fail not for want of dili-
" gence in searching, I cannot help thinking that God
" will not condemn them for an inevitable defect in their
"■ understandings." Indeed, my friend, I have such a
low opinion of man in his depraved state, that I believe
no one has real sincerity in religious matters till God
bestows it ; and when he makes a person sincere in his
desires after truth, he will assuredly guide him to the
possession of it in due time, as our Lord speaks, John
vi. 44, 45. To suppose that any persons can sincerely
seek the way of salvation, and yet miss it through an ine-
vitable defect of their understandings, would contradict
the plain promises of the Gospel, such as. Matt. vii. 7, 8.
John vii. 16, 17. ; but to suppose that nothing is neces-
sary to be known, which some persons who profess sin-
cerity cannot receive, would be in effect to make the
Scripture a nose of wax, and open a wide door for scep-
ticism. I am not a judge of the heart ; but I may be
sure that whoever makes the foundation-stone a rock of
offence cannot be sincere in his inquiries. He may
study the Scripture accurately, but he brings his own
preconceived sentiments with him, and instead of sub-
mitting them to the touchstone of truth, he makes them
532 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5***=^^. Let. 2.
a rule by which he interprets. That they who lean to
their own understandings should stumble and miscarry,
I cannot wonder ; for the same God who has promised
to fill the hungry -with good things, has threatened to
send the rich empty away. So ]\Iatth. xi. 25. It is
not through defect of understanding, but a want of sim-
plicity and humility, that so many stumble like the blind
at noon- day, and can sec nothing of those great truths
which are written in the Gospel as with a sun-beam.
You wish me to explain myself concerning the doc-
trine of the Trinity. I will try; yet I know I cannot, any
further than as he who taught me shall be pleased to
bear witness in your heart to what I say. My first
principle in religion is what the Scripture teaches me of
the utter depravity of human nature, in connexion with
the spirituality and sanction of the law of God. I be-
lieve we are by nature sinners, by practice universally
transgressors ; that we are dead in trespasses and sins ;
and that the bent of our natural spirit is enmity against
the holiness, government, and grace of God. Upon
this ground, I see, feel, and acknowledge the necessity
of such a salvation as the Gospel proposes; which, at
the same time that it precludes boasting, and stains the
pride of all human glory, aflbrds encouragement to those
who may be thought, or who may think themselves, the
weakest or the vilest of mankind. I believe, that what-
ever notions a person may take up from education or
system, no one ever did, or ever will, feel himself and
own himself to be such a lost, miserable, hateful sinner,
unless he be powerfully and supernaturall^y' convinced
by the Spirit of God. — There is, when God pleases, a
certain light thrown into the soul, which differs not merely
in degree, but in kind, toto genox, from any thing that
can be effected or ])roduced by moral suasion or argu-
Let. 2. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. 533
inent. But, (to take in another of your queries,) the
Holy Spirit teaches or reveals no new truths, either of
doctrine or precept, but only enables us to understand
what is already revealed in the Scripture. Here a change
takes place, the person that was spiritually blind, begins
to see. The sinner's character, as described in the word
of God, he finds to be a description of himself; that he
is afar off, a stranger, a rebel ; that he has hitherto lived
in vain. Now he begins to see tlie necessity of an
atonement, an advocate, a sheplierd, a comforter : he
can no more trust to his own wisdom, strength, and good-
ness ; but, accounting all his former gain but loss, for
the excellency of the knowledge of Christ, he renounces
every other refuge, and ventures his all upon the person,
work, and promise of the Redeemer. In this way, I-
sav, he will find the doctrine of the Trinity not only a
proposition, but a principle; that is, from his own wants
and situation, he will have an abiding conviction, that
the Son and Holy Spirit are God, and must be pos--
sessed of the attributes and powers of Deity, to sup-
port the offices the Scriptures assign them, and to de-
serve the confidence and worship the Scriptures require
to be placed in them, and paid to them. Without this
awakened state of mind, a divine, reputed orthodox,
will blunder wretchedly, even in defending his own opi-
nions. I have seen laboured defences of the Trinity,
which have given me not much more satisfaction than 1
should probably receive from a dissertation upon the
rainbow, composed by a man blind from his birth. In
effect, the knowledge of God cannot be attained by
studious discussion on our parts ; it must be by a reve-
lation on his part, Alatth. xi. 27. and xvi. 17. ; a reve-
lation, not objectively of new truth, but subjectively of
new li2;ht in us. Then he that runs may read. Per-
534 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 3'^***. Let. %
haps you may not quite understand my meaning, or not
accede to my sentiment at present ; I have little doubt,
however, but the time is coming when you will. I be-
lieve the Lord God has given you that sincerity, which
he never disappoints.
Far be it from me to arrogate infallibility to myself,
or to any writer or preacher ; yet, olessed be God, I
am not left to float up and down the uncertain tide ol
opinion, in those points wherein the peace of my soul
is nearly concerned. I know, yea, I infallibly know,
"whom I have believed. I am under no more doubt
about the way of salvation than of the way to London.
I cannot be deceivexi, because the word of God cannot
deceive me. It is impossible, however, for me to give
you or any person full satisfaction concerning my evi-
dence, because it is of an experimental nature ; Rev. ii,
] 7. In general, it arises from the views I have received
of the power, compassion, and grace of Jesus, and a
consciousness, that I, from a conviction of my sin and
misery, have fled to him for refuge, intrusted and de-
voted myself and my all to him. Since my mind has
been enlightened, every thing within me, and every
thing around me, confirms and explains to me what I
read in Scripture ; and though I have reason enough to
distrust my own judgment every hour, yet I have no
reason to question the great essentials, \vhich the Lord
himself hath tauffht me.
Besides a long letter, I send you a great book. A part
of it, (for I do not ask you to read the whole,) may per-
haps explain my meaning better than I have leisure to
do myself I set a high value upon this book of Mr.
Halyburton's ; so that, unless I could replace it with
another, I know not if I would part with it for its weight
in gold. The first and loni^est treatise is, in my judg-
Let. 3. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 6'****. 535
ment, a master-piece ; but I would chiefly wish you to
peruse the Essay concerning Faith, towards the close
of the book. I need not beg you to read it carefully,
and to read it all. The importance of the subject, its
immediate connexion with your inquiries, and the ac-
curacy of the reasoning, will render the motive of my
request unnecessary. I connot style him a very elegant
writer; and, being a Scotsman, he abounds with the
Scottish idiom. But you will prefer truth to ornament.
I long to hear your opinion of it. It seems to me so
adapted to some things that have passed between us,
as if written on purpose.
The Inquiry concerning Regeneration and Justifica-
tion, which stands last in the book, I do not desire or
even wish you to read ; but if you should, and then
think that you have read a speculation more curious
than useful, I shall not contradict you. I think it must
appear to you in that light ; but it was bound up with
the rest, and therefore could not stay behind ; but I
hope the Essay on Faith will please you.
I take great pleasure in your correspondence, still
more in the thought of your friendship, which I hope
to cultivate to the utmost, and to approve myself, sin-
cerely and affectionately yours.
LETTER III.
My Dear Friend, August 11, 1775.
-i-^ EXT week I go to London, where I purpose, (if no-
thing unforeseen prevents,) to stay a month. Many
things, which must necessarily be attended to before my
departure, abridge me of that leisure which I could
wish to employ in answering your last. However, I
Vol. I, ' 3 Z
536 Letters to tlie Rev. Mr. S^*^^. Let. 3.
will spare you what I can. I thank you for yours.
Your objections neither displease nor weary me. —
While truth is the object of your inquiry, the more free-
dom you use with me the better. Nor do they surprise
me ; for I have formerly made the like objections my-
self. I have stood upon your ground, and I continue
to hope you will One day stand upon mine. As I have
told you more than once, I do not mean to dictate to
you, or to wish you to receive any thing upon my ipse
dlrit ; but, in the simplicity of friendship, I will give you
my thoughts from time to time upon the points you
propose, and leave the event to the divine blessing.
I am glad you do not account the Socinians master-
builders. However, they esteem themselves so, and
are so esteemed, not only by a i^w, (as you think,) but
by many. I fear Socinianism spreads rapidly amongst
us, and bids fair to be the prevailing scheme in this land,
especially with those who profess to be the thinking
part. The term Armunan, as at present applied, is
very indiscriminate, and takes in a great variety of per-
sons and sentiments, amongst whom, I believe, there
are many who hold the fundamental truths of the Gos-
pel, and live a life of faith in the Son of God. I am
far from supposing that God will guide every sincerx
person exactly to adopt all my sentiments. But there
are some sentiments which I believe essential to the very
state and character of a true Christian. — And these
make him a Christian ; not merely by being his acknow-
ledged sentiments, but by a certain peculiar manner in
which he possesses them. There is a certain important
change takes }>lace in the heart, by the operation of the
Spirit of God, before the soundest and most orthodox
sentiments can have their proper influence upon us.
This work, or change, the Scripture describes by vari-
Let. 3. Utters to the Rev. Mr. 5**^*. 537
ous names, each of which is designed to teach us the
marvellous effects it produces, and the almighty power
by which it is produced. It is sometimes called a new-
birth, John iii. 3. ; sometimes a new creature or new
creation, as 2 Cor. v. 17.; soaietimes the causing light
to shine out of darkness, 2 Cor. iv. 6. ; sometimes the
opening the eyes of the blind. Acts xxvi. 18. ; some-
times the raising the dead to life, Ephes. ii. 5. Till a
person has experienced this change, he will be at a loss
to form a right conception of it : but it means, not being
proselyted to an opinion, but receiving a principle of
divine life and light in the soul. And till this is re-
ceived, the things of God, the truths of the Gospel,
cannot be rightly discerned or understood, by the ut-
most powers of fallen man, who, with all his wisdom,
reason, and talents, is still but what the apostle calls
the natural man, till the power of God visits his heart,
1 Cor. ii. 14. This work is sometimes wrought sud
denl}^ as in the case of Lydia, Acts xvi. 14.; at other
limes very gradually. A person who before was a
stranger even to the form of godliness, or at best con-
tent with a mere form — finds new thoughts arising in
his mind, feels some concern about his sins, some de-
sire to please God, some suspicions that all is not right.
— He examines his views of religion, hopes the best of
them, and yet cannot rest satisfied in them. To-day,
perhaps, he thinks himself fixed ; to-morrow he will be
all uncertainty. He inquires of others, weighs, mea-
sures, considers, meets with sentiments which he had
not attended to, thinks them plausible ; but is presently
shocked with objections or supposed consequences,
which he finds himself unable to remove. As he goes
on in his inquiry, his difficulties increase. New doubts
arise in his mind; even the Scriptures perplex him, and
538 Letters to the Rev. Mr. ^S****. Let. 3,
appear to assert contrary things. He would sound the
depths of truth by the plummet of his reason ; but he
finds his line is too short. Yet even now the man is
under a guidance, which will at length lead him right.
The importance of the subject takes up his thoughts,
and takes off the relish he once had for the things of the
world. He reads, he prays, he strives, he resolves ;
sometimes inward embarrassments and outward temp-
tations bring him to his wit's end. He almost wishes to
stand where he is, and inquire no more : but he cannot
stop. — At length he begins iofeelihe inward depravity,
which he had before owned as an opinion ; a sense of
sin and guilt cut him out new work. Here reasoning
will stand him in no stead. This is a painful change of
mind ; but it prepares the way for a blessing. It
silences some objections better than a thousand argu-
ments, it cuts the comb of his own wisdom and attain-
ments, it makes him weary of working for life, and
teaches him, in God's due time, the meaning of that
text, " To him that worketh not, but believeth in him
" who justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for
^^ righteousness." Then he learns, that Scriptural faith
is a very different thing from a rational assent to the
Gospel, — that it is the immediate gift of God, Ephes.
ii. 8. ; the operation of God, Col. ii. 12. ; that Christ is
not only the object, but the author and finisher of faith,
Heb. xii. 2. ; and that faith is not so properly a part of
that obedience we oxve to God, as an inestimable benefit
we receive from him for Christ's sake, Phil. i. 29- which
is the medium of our justification, Rom. v. 1. and the
principle by which we are united to Christ, (as the
branch to the vine,) John xvii. 21. I am well aware
of the pains taken to put a different sense upon these
and other seemingly mysterious passages of Scripture ;
Let. 3. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 6'****. 539
but thus far we speak that which we know, and testify
that which we have seen. I have described a path in
which I have knoAvn many led, and in which I have
walked myself
The Gospel, my dear sir, is a salvation appointed for
those who are ready to perish, and is not designed to
put them in a way to save themselves by their own
works. It speaks to us as condemned already, and calls
upon us to believe in a crucified Saviour, that we may
receive redemption through his blood, even the forgive-
ness of our sins. And the Spirit ot God, by the Gos-
pel, first convinces us of unbelief, sin, and misery ; and
then, by revealing the things of Jesus to our minds, en-
ables us, as helpless sinners, to come to Christ, to receive
him, to behold him ; or, in other words, to believe in
him, and expect pardon, life, and grace from him ; re-
nouncing every hope and aim in which we once rested,
" and accountino; all things loss and duns for the excel-
"lency of the knowledge of Christ," John vi. S5. Isa.
xlv, 22. with John vi. 40. Col. ii. 6. In some of
Omicron's letters you will find my thoughts more at
large upon these subjects than I have now time to write
them. For a further illustration I refer you to the MSS.
sent herewith. The first part written in short-hand, does
not so immediately concern our present point as the se-
cond, which you may read without a key. It relates to
a matter of indisputable fact, concerning a person with
whom, (as you will perceive,) I was well acquainted.
You may depend upon the truth of every tittle. I in-
trust it to you in the confidence of friendship, and beg
that it may not go out of your hands, and that when you
have perused it, you would return it, sealed up, by a
safe conveyance to my house. You will see in it the
sentiments of a man of great learning, sound reasoning,
540 Letters to the Rev, Mr. <S^***. Let. 3.
an amiable and irreproachable character, and how little
he accounted of all these advantages, when the Lord was
pleased to enlighten his mind.
Though we have not exactly the same view of human
depravity, yet, as we both agree to take our measure of
it from the word of God, I trust, we shall not always
differ about it. Adam was created in the imajie of
God, in righteousness and true holiness, Ephes. iv. 24.
This moral image, I believe, was totally lost by sin. In
that sense he died the day, the moment he ate the for-
bidden fruit. God was no longer his joy and delight;
he was averse from the thoughts of his presence, and
would, (if possible,) have hid himself from him. His
natural powers, though doubtless impaired, were not
destroyed. Man by nature is still capable of great
things. His understanding, reason, memory, imagina-
tion, &c. sufficiently proclaim that the Hand that made
him is divine. He is, as Milton says of Beelzebub,
majestic though in ruins. He can reason, invent,
and by application attain a considerable knowledge in
natural things. The exertions of human genius, as
specified in the characters of some philosophers, poets,
orators, &c are wonderful. But man cannot know, love,
trust, or serve his iVIaker, unless he be renewed in the
spirit of his mind. God has preserved in him likewise
some feelings of benevolence, pity, some sense of natural
justice and truth, &:c. without which there could be no
society : but these, I apprehend, are little more than in-
stincts, by which the world is kept in some small degree
of order; but, being under the direction of pride and
self, do not deserve the name of virtue and goodness, be-
cause the exercise of them does not spring from a prin-
ciple of love to God, nor is directed to his glory, or re-
gulated by the rule of his word, till a principle of grace
Let. 3. Letters to the Rev. Mr, 5**^*. 541
is superadded. You think, I will not say, " that God,
" judicially in punishment of one man's sin, added these
" corruptions to all his posterity." Let us suppose, that
the punishment annexed to eating theforhidden fruit, had
been the loss of Adam's rational powers, and that he
should be degraded to the state and capacity of a brute.
In this condition, had he begotten children after the fall
in his own likeness, his nature being previously changed,
they must have been, of course, brutes like himself; for
he could not convey to themt^iose original powers which
he had lost. Will this illustrate my meaning ? Sin did
not deprive him of rationality, but spirituality. His
nature became earthly, sensual, yea, develish : and this
fallen nature, this carnal mind, which is enmity against
God, which is not subject to his law, neither indeed can
be, Rom. viii. 7. we universally derive from him. Look
upon children ; they presently show themselves averse
from good, but exceedingly propense to evil. This they
can learn even w ithout a master ; but ten thousand in-
structors and instructions cannot instil good into them,
so as to teach them to love their Creator, unless a di-
vine power co-operates. Just as it is with the earth,
which produces weeds spontaneously ; but if you only
seeacabbage, oran apple tree, you are sure it was planted
or sown there, and did not spring from the soil. I know
many hard questions may be started upon this subject ;
but the Lord in due time will clear his own cause, and
vindicate his own ways. I leave all difficulties with
him. It is sufficient for me, that Scripture asserts, and
experience proves, that it is thus in fact, Rom. iii. 9 —
2 1 . Job xiv. 4. Thus, we have not only forfeited our
happiness by transgression, but are, by our depravity, in-
capable of it, and have no more desire or taste for such
a state as the Scripture describes heaven to be, than a
542 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. Let. 3.
man born deaf can have for a concert of music. And
therefore our Lord declares, that except a man be
born again, he not only shall not, but cannot see the
kingdom of God. Hence a twofold necessity of a
Saviour, his blood for the pardon of our sins — his life,
spirit, and grace, to quicken our souls, and form us
anew for himself, that we may feel his love, and show
forth his praise.
St. Paul, before his conversion, was not sincere in
the sense I hope you to be : he thought himself in the
right, without doubt, as many have done when they
killed God's servants, John xvi. 2. He was blindly
and obstinately zealous : I think he did not enter into
the merits of the cause, or inquire into facts with that
attention which sincerity would have put him upon.
You think that his sincerity and zeal were the very
things that made him a chosen instrument ; he himself
speaks of them as the very things that made him pecu-
liarly unworthy of that honour, 1 Cor. xv. 9- and he
tells us, that he was set forth as a pattern of the Lord's
long suffering and mercy, that the very chief of siimers
might be encouraged, 1 Tim. i. 15, 16'. Had he been
sincerely desirous to know whether Jesus was the Mes-
siah, there was enough in his character, doctrines,
miracles, and the prophecies concerning him, to have
cleared up the point ; but he took it for granted he was
right in his opinion, and hurried blindly on, and was,
(as he said himself,) exceedingly mad against them. —
Such a kind of sincerity is common enough. People
believe themselves right, and therefore treat others
^v■ith scorn or rage ; appeal to the Scriptures, but iirst
lay down their own preconceived sentiments for truths,
and then examine what Scriptures they can find to
countenance them. Surely a person's thinking himself
Let. 3. Letters to the liev. Mr. S«***. 54-3
right, will not dve a sanction to all that he does under
that persuasion.
Ignorance and obstinacy are in themselves sinful,
and no plea of sincerity wiirexempt from the danger of
being under their influence. Isa. xxvii, II. Luke
vi. 39. It appears to me, that though you will not fol-
low any man implicitly, you are desirous of discovering
your mistakes, supposing you are mistaken in any point
of importance. You read and examine the word of
God, not to find arms wherewith to defend your senti-
ments at all events, but to know whether they are de-
fensible or not. You pray for God's light and teach-
ins;, and in this search you are willinn; to risk what men
are commonly much afraid of hazarding — character, in-
terest, preferment, favour, Sec. A sincerity of this kind
1 too seldom meet with ; when I do, I account it a token
for good, and am ready to say, " No man can do this,
" except God be with him." However, sincerity is
not conversion ; but I believe it is always a forerunner
of it.
I would not be uncharitable and censorious, hasty and
peremptory, in judging my fellow-creatures. But if I
acknowledge the word of God, I cannot avoid forming
my judgment upon it. It is true, I cannot look into
people's hearts ; but hearts and principles are deline-
ated to my hand in the Scripture. I read that no mur-
derer has cternai life in hiai ; I read likewise, " If any
" man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathe-
" ma ;" and therefore I conclude, that there m'e speculative-
errors^ as heinous in their guilt, as destructive in their
effects, as murder ; and that the most moral, regular
man, as to social life, if he loves not the Lord Jesus
Christ, is, in the sight of God, the Judge of all, as dis-
pleasing as a murderer. It has pleased God, for the
VoL.I. -i A
544 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5**^'^. Let. 3,
peace and support of society, to put a black mark upon
those sins which affect the peace and vveltare of our
neighbour, such as adultery and murder. But un-
doubtedly the sins committed immediately against him-
self must be more heinous than any which offend our
fellow-creatures. The second commandment, Matth.
xxii. 39. is like the first ; but it depends upon it, and
is therefore inferior to it. Men ordinarily judge other-
wise. To live regardless of God and the Gospel, is
looked upon as a peccadillo, in comparison with of-
fences against society. But sooner or later it will ap-
pear otherwise to all. A parcel of robbers may pique
themselves upon the justice, honour, and truth they
observe towards one another ; but because they set up
a petty interest, which is inconsistent with the public
good, they are deservedly accounted villains, and
treated as such, notwithstanding their petty morality
among themselves. Now, such a company of robbers
bears a much greater proportion to a whole nation,
than a nation, or all the nations of the earth, bears to
the great God. Our dependence upon him is abso-
lute; our obligations to him infmitc. In vain shall men
plead their moral discharge of relative duties to each
other, if they fail in the unspeakably greater relation
under which they stand to God ; and therefore, when
I see people living without God in the world, as all do
till they are converted, I cannot but judge them in a
dangerous state ; not because I take pleasure in cen-
suring, or think myself authorized to pass sentence
upon my fellow-creatures, but because the Scripture de-
cides expressly on the case, and I am bound to take
ray sentiments from thence.
The jailer \\ as certainly a Christian when baptized,
as you observe. He trembled ; he cried out, " M'hat
Let. 4, Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5^*^*.
" must I do to be saved?" Paul did not bid him amend
his lite, but believe in the Lord Jesus. He believed,
and rejoiced. But the Lord blessed the apostle's
words, to produce in him that saving taith, vhich filled
him with joy and peace. It was, as I observed before,
something more than an assent to the proposition, that
Jesus is the Christ ; a resting in him for forgiveness and
acceptance, and a cleaving to him in love. No other
faith will purify the heart, work by love, and overcome
the world.
I need not have pleaded want of leisure as an excuse
for a short letter, for I have written a long one. I feel
myself much interested in your concerns ; and your
unexpected frank application to me, (though you well
know the light in which I appear to some people,) I
consider as a providential call, which binds me to your
service. I hope our correspondence will be productive
of happy effects, and that we shall both one day re-
joice in it.
I am, &c.
LETTER IV.
My Dear Friend, Septeinber 6, 1775.
BEGIN to fear that I shall fall under a suspicion
of unkindness and forgetfulness towards you ; and
therefore I am willing to write a line by way of pre-
vention, though I have not leisure to attenipt any
thing like an answer to the letter you put into my hand
the evenining before I left Q****; must therefore con-
tent myself with a tender of affection and respect, and
an inquiry after your welfare.
Your letter will give me an opportunity of saying
546 Letters to the llev. Mr. 6'****. Let. 4.
something further when time shall admit ; but an en-
deavour to answer all the objections that may be
started between us, in a way of reasoning, would re-
quire a volume, and would likewise interfere with the
leading principle upon which my hope of giving you
satisfaction in due time is grounded. You seem to
expect that / should remove your difficulties ; but it is
my part only to throw in a word occasionally, as a wit-
ness of what the Lord has been pleased to teach me
from the Scriptures, and to wait for the rest, till he,
(who alone is able,) shall be pleased to communicate the
same views to you : for till we see and judge by the
same medium, and are agreed in the fundamental
jx)int, that faith is not the effect of reasoning, but a
special gift of God, which he bestows when and to
whom he pleases, it will not be possible for me to con-
vince you by dint of argument. I believe, as I have
observed before, that he has already given you a desire
to know his will ; and therefore I trust he will not dis-
appoint 3-our search. At present I think you want one
thing, which it is not in my power to impart ; I mean
such a sense of the depravity of human nature, and
the state of all mankind considered as sinners, as may
make you feel the utter impossibility of attaining to
the peace and hope of the Gospel in any other wa}',
than by renouncing all hope of succeeding by any en-
deavours of your own, further than by humbly waiting
at the throne of grace, for power to cast yourself, with-
out terms and conditions, upon him who is able to
save to the uttermost. Vv^e must feel ourselves sick,
before we can duly prize the great Physician : and feel a
sentence of death in ourselves, before we can effectual-
ly trust in God who raiseth the dead.
I have not brought your sermons with me ; for I
Let. 4. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 6'*^**. 547
thought I should not have time to read them attentive-
ly, Avhile in this hurrying place. I purpose to consider
them with care, and to give you my thoughts with
frankness, when I return. However, if they are upon
the plan intimated in your letter, I will venture to say
one thing hefore-hand, that they will not answer your
desired end. I am persuaded you wish to be useful
— to reclaim sinners from their evil ways, to inspire
them with a love to God, and a sincere aim to walk in
obedience to his will. May I not venture to appeal to
yourself, that 3^ou meet with little success ; that the
people to whom you preach, though they perhaps give
you a patient hearing, yet remain as they were, un-
changed and unholy .^ It must be so : there is but
one sort of preaching which God blesses to these pur-
poses— that which makes all the world guilty before
God, and sets forth Jesus Christ, (as the brazen serpent
was proposed by Moses,) that guilty and condemned
sinners, by looking to him, and believing on his name,
may be healed and saved. The most pressing exhor-
tations to repentance and amendment of life, unless
they are enforced in a certain way, which only God
can teach, will leave our hearers much as they find
them. When we meet, or when I have leisure to write
from home, I will trouble you with my thoughts more
at large. Till then, permit me to assure you of my
.sincere regard and best wishes, and that I am, cS:c,
548 tetters to the Rev. Mr, .$#*#*. Let. 5.
LETTER V.
My Dear Friend, October 21, 1775.
X HE calls and engagements \vhich I told you en-
grossed and anticipated my time when I wrote last,
have continued without any intermission hitherto, and
I am still far behind-hand with my business. I am
willing to hope, that the case has been much the same
■with you, and that want of leisure has been the only
cause of my not having been pleasured with so much
as a note from you since my return from London.
I am loath, for my own sake, to charge your silence
to any unwillingness of continuing that intercourse
which I have been, and still find myself, desirous to
improve on my part. For though we are not agreed in
our views, yet, while our preliminary agreement, to allow
mutual freedom, and to exercise mutual candour, in ex-
pressing our sentiments, subsists, we may, and I hope
shall, be glad to hear from each other. It may seem to
intimate I have a better opinion of myself than of
you, that while I seem confident your freedom will not
offend me, I feel now and then a fear, lest mine should
prove displeasing to you. But friendship is a little
suspicious when exercised with long silence; and a plain
declaration of my sentiments has. more than once, put
amiable and respectable persons to the full trial of their
patience.
I now return your sermons : I thank you for the
perusal. I see much in them that I approve, and no-
thing in them but w hat I formerly espoused. But in a
course of years, a considerable alteration has taken
place in my judgment and experience. I hope, yea.
Let. '5. Letters io the Rev. Mf. 6'****. 649
I may boldly say, I am sure, not for the worse. Then
I was seeking, and now through mercy I have found,
the pearl of great price. It is both the prayer and the
hope of my heart, that a day is coming when you sliall
make the same acknowledgment. From your Letters
and Sermons, I am encouraged to address you in our
Lord's words, " Thou art not far from the kingdom
" of God." I am persuaded the views you have re-
ceived will not suffer you to remain where you are.
But fidelity obliges me to add, " Yet one thing thou
" lackest." That " one thing ' 1 trust the Lord will both
show you, and bestow upon you, in his due time. You
speak somewhere of " atoning for disobedience by re-
" pentance." — Ah ! my dear sir, when we are brought
to estimate our disobedience by comparing it with
such a sense of the majesty, holiness, and authority of
God, and the spirituality, extent, and sanction of
his holy law, as he, and he only, can impress upon the
heart of a sinner, we shall be convinced that nothing
but the blood of the Son of God can atone for the
smallest instance of disobedience.
I intimated, in my letter from London, one defect of
your scheme, which will probably be the first to engage
your notice. I am sure you have a desire to be useful
to the souls of men, to be an instrument of reclaiming
them from that course of open wickedness, or lifeless
formality, in which you see them enslaved ; and, in a
■word, to prevail with them to live soberly, righteously,
and godl}^, according to the just and couiprehensive
sense you have given of those words, in your sermon
on Tit. ii. 11, 12. Now inward experience, and a pretty
extensive observation of Avhat passes abroad, have so
perfectly convinced me there is but one mode of preach-
ing which the Holy Spirit owns to the producing these
effects, that I am not afraid to pronounce confidently
550 LetteYs to the Rev. Mr. 6'*^*^. Let. 6.
you will not have the desires of your heart gratified
upon your present plan : the people will give you a
hearing, and remain just as they are, till the Lord leads
you to speak to them as criminals condemned already,
and whose first essential step it is, to seek forgiveness
by the blood of Jesus, and a change of heart and state
by his grace, before they can bring forth any fruit ac-
ceptable to God.
As I have little time for writing, and little hope of
Succeeding in a way of argumentation, I have substi-
tuted, instead of a longer letter, the heads of some ser-
mons I preached nine or ten years ago, on our Lord's
discourse with Nicodemus. However, when I have heard
that you are well, and that you still are disposed to
correspond with me, I shall be ready to give a more par-
ticular answer to the subjects you pointed out to me
in the letter you favoured me with the day before I
left London. I pray God to bless you in all your ways,
and beg you to believe, that I am, with sincerity, &c.
LETTER VL
My Dear Friend, October 28.
J-T never entered my pericranium that you expected I
should fully and directly answer your letter while I was
in London ; and yet you reasonably might, as you knew
nothing of my engagements : but indeed it was imprac-
ticable ; I could only send you a hasty line, as a token
that I remembered you. I informed you, when I re-
turned, that I was just going out again. Since I came
home the second time, I have been engrossed by tilings
that would admit of no delay; and at length, not having
so much as a note from you, I thought 1 would wait till
I heard further. But from first to last it was my inten-
Let, G. Letters to the Rev. Mr. .?****. 551
tion, and I think my promise to answer, in the manner
you proposed, as soon as I could. And even now I
must beg a little longer time. Believe me, that as the
wise and (lood providence of God brought us together,
without any expectation of mine, I will do all in my
power to preserve the connexion, and particularly by
giving my thoughts on such questions as you propose.
And though, to consider your questions in the manner
you wish, and to point out the agreement of detached
texts, (as they occur,) with my views, seems in prospect
to require a volume rather than a sheet, yet I am not
discouraged ; only I beg you to make allowances for
other things, and to be assured, that, before I had the
pleasure of corresponding "with you, I had very little
spare time. Expect then the best satisfaction 1 am
able to give you, as soon as possible. To prepare the
•way, I will try hard for a little leisure, to give you a
few thoughts upon yours, which came last night.
You complain that I have hitherto disappointed your
expectations. — If you have preserved my first pa-
pers, I believe you will find, that I apprised you this
might probably be the event, and certainly must, un-
less it should please God to make what I should write
a means of giving you the same views with my-
self. I only proposed, as a witness, to bear a simple
testimony to what I had seen and known. So far as
you believed me sincere and unwilling to impose upon
you, I thought you might admit, there was perhaps
some weight in what I advanced, though for the pre-
sent you could not see things in the same light. And
if you allowed a possibility, that my changing the sen-
timents which I once held in common with yourself
might be upon sufficient grounds, you would, as I trust
you do, wait upon the great Teacher for his instruc'
Vol. I. 4 B
55$ Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. Let. G.
tion ; otherwise I did not expect to convince you, nor
do I yet, only I am glad to put myself in his hands as
an instrument.
You quite misunderstood what I spoke of the light
and influence of the Spirit of God. He reveals to
me no new truths, but has only shown me the mean-
ing of his own written word ; nor is this light a parti-
cular revelation ; it is common to all who are born
again. And thus, though you and I cannot fully agree
aJDOut it, yet I almost daily meet with persons from the
east, west, north, and south, whom, though I never saw
them before, I find we understand each other at once.
This, (as you bid me be explicit,) is the one thing
•which you at present lack. And I limited my expres-
sion to one thing, because it is our Lord's expression,
and because that one thing includes many. As I said
before, I cannot give it you ; but the Lord can ; and
from the desire he has raised in your heart, I have a
warm hope that he will. You place the whole stress
of your inquiries upon reason : I am far from discard-
ing reason, when it is enlightened and sanctified ; but
spiritual things must be spirit uali^ discerned, and can
be received and discerned no other way ; for to our na-
tural reason they are foolishness, 1 Cor. ii. 14, 15.
Matth. xi. 25. This certain something I can no more de-
scribe to those who have not experienced it, than I could
describe the taste ot a pine apple to a person who had
never seen one. But Scriptural proofs might be ad-
duced in abundance, yet not so as to give a solid con-
viction of it, till we actually experience it. Thus it
was with my friend, whose case I sent you. When
God gave him the key, (as he expressed it,) then the
Scriptures were unlocked. His wishing himself a
Deist some time before, was not from any libertine ex-
Let. 6. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. 553
ceptions he made to the precepts of the Gospel, but
from the perplexing embarrassments he had found by
endeavouring to understand the doctrines by dint of
reason, though reason in him was as strong and pene-
trating as in most men I ever met with. Upon your
present plan, how can I hope to satisfy you, though
even St. Paul asserts it, That the carnal mind is en-
mity against God ? You will readily agree with me to
the proposition as it stands in St. Paul's words, but I
think will not so readily assent to what I have no more
doubt than of my own existence, is the sense of it. That
the heart of man, of any man, every man, however ap-
parently amiable in his outward conduct, however bene-
volent to his fellow-creatures, however abundant and
zealous in his devotions, is, by nature, enmity against
God ; not indeed against the idea he himself forms of
God, but against the character which God has re-
vealed of himself in the Scripture. Man is an enemy
to the justice, sovereignty, and law of God, and to the
alone method of salvation he has appointed in the Gos-
pel by faith only ; by such a faith, as it is no more in
his power to contribute to the productionof in himself,
than he can contribute to raising the dead, or making a
world. Whatever is of the flesh is flesh, and can rise
no higher than its principle ; but the Lord could con-
vince you of this by a glance of thought.
But I must break ofl", for want both of room and
time. Let me remind you of our agreement, to use and
allow the greatest fi'eedom, and not to be offended
with what is meant well on either side. Somethinsin
your last letter made me apprehensive you were a
little displeased with me. He that knows my heart,
knows that I wish you well as my own soul.
The expression, of atoning for disobedience by re-
554 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. Let. 7.
pentance, was in one of your sermons. I considered it
as -unguarded ; but on my view ot things, it were in a
manner impossible I could use that ea:presiiion., though
perhaps too often unguarded myself.
I am, &c.
A'
LETTER VII.
My Dear Friend, November 17, 1775.
-T length I take up your favour of August 14, with
design to give a more explicit answer. My delaying
hitherto has been unavoidable ; I am sorry to have vour
patience put to so long a trial, and should be more sorry,
but that I consider, that in my former papers, sermonSj
Omicron's letters, &c. you already possess the whole,
(in substance,) of what I have to offer. My present
part is but actum agere, to repeat what I have else-
where expressed, only with some variety and enlarge-
jnent. You yourself well state the situation of our
debate, when you sa3% " Nor in truth do you offer any
'' arguments to convince me, nor does it seem *very con-
" sistent on your grounds so to do. And if this impor-
" tant change is to be brought about by the intervention
*' of some extraordinary impulse of the Holy Spirit,
*" and cannot be brought about without it ; I do not
" see any thing further that 1 have to do, than to keep
" my mind as much unbiassed as I can, and to wait
" and pray for it." I think my letter from London
was to the purport of these your own words, though
you seemed dissatisfied with it. While we see through
a different medium, it will be easy for you to answer
every text I might adduce in support of my sentiments,
as you have those 1 have already brought, " That you
Let. 7. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. d$$
" understand them otherwise." In order to support
my sense of one text, 1 should perhaps quote and argue
from twenty more, and still " You would understand
" them otherwise." The life of man, yea, of Methuse-
lah, would hardly suffice to prove, object, and defend
all that might be alleged on both sides in their way ; and
at last we should leave off as we began, more fully con-
firmed in our own opinions, unless the Lord, by his
Holy Spirit, should be pleased to show the person who
maintained the wrong side of the argument where his
mistake lay. However, I mean to take some notice of
your queries as they offer themselves.
The first which occurs is complicated. The sub-
stance I think is, whether such belief and aims as
you possess, will stand you in no stead unless you like-
wise believe grace irresistible, predestination absolute,
faith in supernatural impulses, &c. ? You may have
observed, I have several times waved speaking about
predestination or election, not that I am ashamed of
the doctrine ; because if it be indeed absurd, shocking,
and unjust, the blame will not deservedly fall upon me,
for I did not invent it, but upon the Scriptures, where I
am sure it is laid down in as plain terms, as that God
created the heavens and the earth. I own I cannot
but wonder that persons professing any reverence for
the Bible should so openly and strongly declare their
abhorrence of what the Bible so expressly teaches ;
namely, that there is a discrimination of persons by
the grace and good pleasure of God, where by nature
there is no difference ; and that all things respecting the
salvation of these persons is infallibly secured by a di-
vine predestination.
I do not offer this as a rational doctrine, (though it
be highly so to me,) but it is Scriptural, or else the
550 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 6'****. Let. 7.
Scripture is a mere nose of wax, and without a deter-
minate meaning. What ingenuity is needful to inter-
pret many passages in a sense more favourable to our
natural prejudices against God's sovereignty ! IMatth.
xi. 2d, 26. and xiii. 10—17. Mark xiii. 20 — 22.
John xvii. passim. John x. 26. Rom. viii. 28 — 30.
and ix. 13 — 24. and xi. 7. Eph. i. 4, 5. 1 Pet i. 2
Were I fond of disputing, as 1 am not, I think I could
put a close reasoner hard to it, to maintain the truth
of Scripture prophecies, or the belief of a particular
providence, unless he would admit a divine predestina-
tion of causes and events as the ground of his argu-
Hients. However, as I said, I have chosen to wave
the point ; because, however true and necessary in it-
self, the knowledge and comprehension of it is not
necessary to the being of a true Christian, though I can
hardlv conceive he can be an established, consistent
believer without it. This doctrine is not the turning
point between you and me; the nature of justification,
and the method of a sinner's acceptance with God,
are of much more immediate importance : and there-
fore, if I am to speak plainly, I must say, that I look
upon your present sentiments, attainments, and ad-
vances, as you describe them, to constitute that kind
of gain the apostle speaks of, and concerning which I
hope you will one day be of his mind, and be glad to
account it all loss, that you may win Christ and be
found in him, " not having your own righteousness,
*' which is of the law, but the riditeousness which is of
" God by faith," Phil. iii. 4. 7 — 10. For as you tell
me, you never remember a time when you were not
conscious before God of great unworthiness, and in-
tervals of earnest endeavours to serve him, thougli not
w'ith the same success, yet something in the same way
Let. 7. Letters to the Bev. Mr, .S****. 55.7
as at present ; this is but saying, in other words, you
never remember a time when old things passed away,
and all things became new ; and yet the apostle insists
much upon this, 2 Cor. iv. 6. and v. 17. The con-
victions of natural conscience, and those which are
wrought in tlie heart by the Holy Spirit, are different
not only in degree, but in kind ; the light of a glow-
w'orm and of the sun do not more essentially differ.
The former are partial and superficial ; leave us in pos-
session of a supposed power of our own ; are pacified
by some appearances of an outward change ; and make
us no further sensible of the necessity of a Saviour,
than to make our doings and duties, (if I may so ex-
press myself,) full weight, which perhaps might other-
wise be a little deficient when brought to the balances
of the sanctuary. But tnily spiritual convictions give
us far other views of sin ; they lead us to a deep and
awful consideration of the i^oot, our total, absolute de-
pravity, and our utter apostasy from God, by which we
are incapable of doing good, as a dead man is of per-
forming the functions of life. They lead us to the rule
and standard, the strict, holy, inflexible law of God,
which reaches to the thoughts and intents of the heart;
requires perfect, universal, persevering obedience ; de-
nounces a curse upon every failure. Gal. iii. 10. ; and
affords neither place nor strength for repentance. Thus
they sweep away every hope and refuge we had before,
and fix upon us a sense of guilt and condenmation,
from w hich there is no relief, till we can look to Je-
sus, as the wounded Israelites did to the brazen ser-
pent ; which was not to give efiicacy to medicines and
plasters of their own application, but to heal them
completely of itself by looking at it. John iii. 14, 15.
and vi. 40. Isaiah xliii. 22.
558 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. Let. 7:
You wish me to explain my distinction between
faith and rational assent ; and though I know no two
things in the world more clearly distinct in themselves,
or more expressly distinguished in Scripture, yet I fear
I may not easily make it appear to you. You allow
faith, in your sense, to be the gift of God ; but, in my
sense, it is likewise wrought by the operation of God,
CvOl. 11. 1 2. TO vTri^^oiXXov jusysSo? t»i; tfuva/xEwj avrov—icotTOt t>?v £»ef-
ynuv Tov xjarou; thj icrxvo; aurou* ; that the samc energy of the
power of his strength, by which the dead body of Jesus
was raised from the dead : can these strong expressions
intend no more than a rational assent, such as we give
to a proposition in Euclid ? I believe fallen reason is,
of itself, utterly incapable even of assenting to the
great truths of revelation ; it may assent to the terms
in which they are proposed, but it must put its own in-
erpretation upon them, or it would despise them.
The natural man can neither receive nor discern the
things of God : and if any one would be wise, the apos-
tle's first advice to him is, Let him become a fool, that
he may be wise ; for the wisdom of the world is fool-
ishness with God.
Indeed, when the heart is changed, and the mind en-
lightened, then reason is sanctified, and, if I may so say,
baptized ; renounces its curious disquisitions, and is con-
tent humbly to tread in the path of revelation. This
is one difference, assent may be the act of our natural
reason ; faith is the effect of immediate almighty
power. Another difference is, faith is always effica-
cious, " it worketh by love ;" whereas assent is often
given where it has little or no influence upon the conduct.
Thus, for instance, every one will assent to this truth,
* Ephes. i. 19.
Let. 7. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5*^'^*.
All men are mortal. Yet the greatest part of mankind,
though they readily assent to the proposition, and it
would be highly irrational to do otherwise, yet live as
they might do if the reverse were true. But they who
have divine faith, feel, as well as say, they are pilgrims
and sojourners upon earth. Again, faith gives peace of
conscience, access to God, and a sure evidence and
subsistence of things not seen, Rom. v. 1, 2. Heb.
xi. 1. — whereas a calm, dispassionate reasoner may be
compelled to assent to the external arguments in favour
of Christianity, and yet remain a total stranger to that
communion with God, that spirit of adoption, that
foretaste of glory, which is the privilege and portion of
believers. So likewise faith overcomes the world,
which rational assent will not do. Witness the lives
and tempers of thousands, who yet would be affronted
if their assent to the Gospel should be questioned. To
sum up all in a word, " He that believes shall be
"saved." But surely many who give a rcltional assent
to the Gospel, live and die in those sins which exclude
from the kingdom of God, Gal. v. 19 — 21. Faith is
the effect of a principle of new life implanted in the
soul, that was before dead in trespasses and sins ; and
it qualifies, not only for obeying the Saviour's precepts,
but chiefly and primarily for receiving from and re-
joicing in his fulness, admiring his love, his work, his
person, his glory, his advocacy. It makes Christ pre-
cious, enthrones him in the heart, presents him as the
most delightful object to our meditations ; as our wis-
dom, righteousness, sanctification, and strength ; our
root, head, life, shepherd, and husband. These are all
Scriptural expressions and images, setting forth, so far
as words can declare, what Jesus is in himself and to
his believing people. But how cold is the comment
Vol. I. 4 C
560 Letters to the Kev. Mr. 5'****. Let. 7.
which rational assent puts upon very many passages,
wherein the apostle Paul endeavours, (but in vain,) to
express the fuhiess of his heart upon this subject. A
most valued friend of mine, a clergyman now living,
had for many years given a rational assent to the Gospel.
He laboured with much earnestness upon your plan,
was very exemplary in his whole conduct, preached
almost incessantly, (two or three times every day in the
iveek for years,) having a parish in the remote parts of
Yorkshij'e, of great extent, and containing five or six
diiferent hamlets at some distance from each other.
He succeeded likewise with his people, so far as to
break them off from outward irregularities ; and was
mentioned in a letter to the Society for propagatino- the
Gospel, (which I have seen in print,) as the most per-
fect example of a parish-priest w hich this nation, or
perhaps this age, has produced. Thus he went on for
many years, teaching his people what he knew, for he
could teach them no more. He lived in such retire-
ment and recess, that he was unacquainted with the
persons and principles of any who are now branded as
enthusiasms and methodists. One day reading Ephes.
iii. in his Greek Testament, his thoughts were stopped
by the word av£|txv»ao-TM, in verse 8. He was struck,
and led to think with himself to this purpose : The
apostle, when speaking of the love and riches of Christ,
uses remarkable expressions ; he speaks of heights,
depths, and lengths, and breadths, and unsearchables,
where I seem to find every thing plain, easy, and ra-
tional. He finds mysteries where I can perceive none.
Surely thougli I use the words Gospel, faith, and grace,
with him, my ideas of them must be different from his.
This led him to a close examination of all his epistles,
and, by the blessing of God, brought on a total change
Let. 7. Letters to the Rev. Mr. .S***-*. 501
in his views and preaching. He no longer set his peo-
ple to keep a law of faith, to trust in their sincerity and
endeavours, upon some general hope that Christ would
help tliem out where they came short ; but he preached
Christ himself, as the end of the law for righteousness
to every one that believeth. He felt himself, and la-
boured to convince others, that there is no hope for a
sinner, but merely in the blood of Jesus, and no pos-
sibility of his doing any works acceptable to God, till
he himself be first made accepted in the Beloved. Nor
did he labour in vain. Now his preaching effected not
only an outward reformation, but a real change of
heart in very many of his hearers. The word was re-
ceived, as Paul expresses it, not Mith a rational assent
only, but with demonstration and power, in the Holy
Ghost, and in much assurance ; and their endeavours
to observe the Gospel-precepts were abundantly more
extensive, uniform, and successful, when they were
brought to say with the apostle, " I am crucified with
" Christ : nevertheless I live, yet not I, but Christ
'^ liveth In me ; and the life I live in the flesh, I live by
" faith in the Son of God."
Such a change of views and sentiments I pray God
my friend may experience. These things may appear
uncouth to you at present, as they have done to many,
who now bless God for showing them what their rea-
son could never have taught them. ]\fy divinity is un-
fashionable enough at present, but it was not so al-
ways ; you will find few books written from the aera of
the Reformation, till a little before Laud's tiuie, that
set forth any other. There were few pulpits till after
the Restoration from which any other was heard. A
lamentable change has indeed since taken place ; but
God has not left himself without witnesses. You
562 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. Let. 7.
think, though I disclaim infallibility, I arrogate too
much in speaking with so much certainty. I am falli-
ble indeed ; b.ut I am sure of the main points of doc-
trine I hold. I am not in the least doubt, whether
salvation be of faith or of works ; whether faith be of
our own power or of God's operation ; whether Christ's
obedience, or our own, be the just ground of our hope ;
wbether a man can truly call Jesus Lord, but by the
teaching of the Holy Ghost. 1 have no more hesita-
tion about these points, than I should have were I
asked whether it was God or man who created the
heavens and the earth. Besides, as I have more than
once observed, your sentiments were once my own, so
that I, who have travelled both roads, may have per-
haps some stronger reasons to determine me which is
the right, than you can have, who have only travelled
one.
Your two sheets may lead me to write as many
quires, if I do not check myself. I now come to the
two queries you propose, the solution of which you
think will clearly mark the difference of our sentiments.
The substance of them is, 1st, Whether I think any sin-
ner ever perished in his sins, (to whom the Gospel has
been preached,) because God refused to supply him
with such a proportion of his assistance as was abso-
lutely necessary to his believing and repenting, or with-
out his having previously rejected the incitements of his
Holy Spirit? A full answer to this would require a
sheet. But briefly, 1 believe that all mankind, being
corrupt and guilty before God, he might, without im-
peachment to his justice, have left them all to perish,
as we are assured he did the fallen angels. But he has
pleased to show mercy, and mercy must be iree. If
the sinner has any claim to it, so far it is justice, not
Let. 7. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. 563
mercy. HE, who is to be our Judge, assures us, that
fezv find the gate that leadeth to life, while many throng
the road to destruction. Your question seems to \m-
ply, that you think God either did make salvation
equally open to all, or that it would have been more
becoming his goodness to have done so.
But he is the potter, we are the clay ; his ways and
thoughts are above ours, as the heavens are higher
than the earth. The judge of all the earth will do
right. He has appointed a day, when he will manifest,
to the conviction of all, that He has done right. Till
then, I hold it best to take things upon his word, and
not too harshly determine what it becomes Jehovah to
do. Instead of saying what / think, let it suffice to re-
mind you of what St. Paul thought, Rom. ix. 1.5 — 21.
But further, I say, that unless mercy were afforded to
those who are saved, in a way peculiar to themselves,
and which is not afforded to those who perish, I be-
lieve no one soul could be saved. For I believe fallen
man, universally considered as such, is as incapable of
doing the least thing towards his salvation, till pre-
vented by the grace of God, (as our Article speaks,) as
a dead body is of restoring itself to life. Whatever dif-
ference takes place between men in this respect, is of'
grace^ that is, of God, undeserved. Yea, his first ap-
proaches to our hearts are undesired too ; for, till he
seeks us, we cannot, we will not seek him, Psalm ex. 3.
It is in the day of his power, and not before, his people
are made willing. But I believe where the Gospel
is preached, they who do perish, do wilfully resist the
light, and choose and cleave to darkness, and stifle the
convictions which the truths of God, when his tr^ue
Gospel is indeed preached, will, in one degree or other,
force upon their minds. The cares of this world, the
564 Letters to the Rev. Mr, 5^****. Let. 1.
deceitfuiness of riches, the love of other things, the vio-
lence of sinful appetites, their prejudices, pride, and self-
righteousness, either prevent the reception, or choke
tlie growth of the good seed ; thus their own sin and
obstinacy is the proper cause of their destruction ; they
ivill not come to Christ that they may have lite. At
the same time, it is true that they cannot, unless they
are supernaturaliy drawn of God ; John v. 40. vi. 44.
They will not, and they cannot come. Both are equally
true, and they are consistent. For a man's cannot is
not a natural, but a moral inability: not an impossibility
in the nature of things, as it is for me to walk upon the
•water, or to fly in the air ; but such an inability as, in-
stead of extenuating, does exceedingly enhance and
aggravate his guilt. He is so blinded by Satan, so alien-
ated from God by nature and wicked works, so given
up to sin, so averse from that way of salvation which
is contrary to his pride and natural ^visdom, that he will
not embrace it or seek after it ; and therefore he cannot,
till the grace of God powerfully enlightens his mind,
and overcomes his obstacles. — But this brings me to
your second query.
II. Do I think that God, in the ordinary course of his
providence, grants this assistance in an irresistible man-
ner, or effects faith and conversion without the sinner's
own hearty consent and concurrence r I rather choose
to term grace inrincibk, than irresistible : for it is too
often resisted even by those who believe ; but, because
it is invincible, it triumphs over all resistance, when he
is pleased to bestow it. For the rest, I believe no sin-
ner is converted without his own hearty will and con-
currence. But he is not willing till he is made so.
Why does he at all refuse r Because he is insensible of
his state ; because he knows not the evil of sin, the
Let. 7. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5'****. 565
strictness of the law, the majesty of God whom he has
offended, nor the total apostasy of his heart ; because
he is blind to eternity, and ignorant of the excellency of
Christ; because he is comparatively whole, and sees not
his need of this great Physician ; because he relies upon
his own wisdom, power, and supposed righteousness.
Now in this state of things, when God comes with a
purpose of mercy, he begins by convincing the person
of sin, judgment, and righteousness, causes him to feel
and know that he is a lost, condemned, helpless crea-
ture, and then discovers to him the necessity, sufficiency,
and willingness of Christ to save them that are ready to
perish, without money or price, without doings or de-
servings. — Then he sees faith to be very different from
a rational assent, finds that nothing but the power of
God can produce a well-grounded hope in the heart of
a convinced sinner ; therefore looks to Jesus, who is the
author and finisher of faith, to enable him to believe.
For this he waits in what we call the means of grace ;
he prays, he reads the word, he thirsts for God, as the
hart pants for the water-brooks ; and though perhaps
for a while he is distressed with many doubts and fears,
he is encouraged to wait on, because Jesus has said,
" Him that cometh unto me, I will in nowise cast out."
The obstinacy of the will remains while the understand-
ing is dark, and ceases when that is enlightened. Sup-
pose a man walking in the dark, where there are pits
and precipices of which he is not aware : you are sensi-
ble of his danger, and call after him : but he thinks he
knows better than you, refuses your advice, and is per-
haps angry with you for your importunity. lie- sees no
danger, therefore will not be persuaded there is any ;
but if you go with a light, get before him, and show
him plainly, that if he takes another step he falls beyond
566 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. Let. 7.
the power of recovery, — then he will stop of his own
accord, blame himself for not minding you before, and
be ready to comply with your further directions. In
either case, man's will acts with equal freedom ; the dif-
ference of his conduct arises from conviction. Some-
thing like this is the case of our spiritual concerns. Sin-
ners are called and warned by the word ; but they are
wise in their own eyes, and take but little notice till the
Lord gives them light, which he is not bound to give to
a7iy, and therefore cannot be bound to give to all. They
who have it, have reason to be thankful, and subscribe
to the apostle's words : " By grace are ye saved, through
" faith ; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of
" God."
I have not yet half done with the first sheet : shall
consider the rest at leisure, but send this as a specimen
of my willingness to clear my sentiments to you as far
as I can. Unless it should please God to make what I
offer satisfactory, I well know before-hand what objec-
tions and answers will occur to you ; for these points
have been often debated : and after a course of twenty-
seven years, in which religion has been the chief object
of my thoughts and inquiries, I am not entirely a stranger
to what can be offered on either side. What I write, I
write simply and in love ; beseeching him, who alone
can set a seal to his own truth, to guide you and bless
you. This letter has been more than a week in hand ;
I have been called from it I suppose ten times, fre-
quently in the middle of a period or a line. My leisure,
which before was small, is now reduced almost to a
nothing. But I am desirous to keep up my correspond-
ence with you, because I feel an affectionate interest in
you, and because it pleased God to put it into your
heart to apply to me. You cannot think how your first
Let. 8. Letters to the Rev. Mr. S**^*. 567
letter struck me : it was so unexpected, and seemed so
improbable, that you should open your mind to me, I
immediately conceived a hope that it would prove for
good. Nor am 1 yet discouraged.
When you have leisure and inclination, write ; I shall
always be glad to hear trom you, and I will proceed in
answering what I have already by me, as fast as I can.
But I have many letters now waiting for an^iwers, whicj^
must be attended to.
I recommend you to the blessing and care of the
great Shepherd ; and remain, &c.
LETTER VIII.
My Dear Friend, December 8, 1775.
-ZjlRE you willing I should still call you so, or are you
quite weary of me r Your silence makes me suspect the
latter. However, it is my part to fulfil my promise,
and then leave the event to God. As I have but an
imperfect remembrance of what I have already written,
I may be liable to some repetitions. I cannot stay to
comment upon every line in your letter, but I proceed
to notice such passages as seem most to affect the sub-
ject in debate. When you speak of the Scripture's
maintaining one consistent sense, which, if the word of
God, it certainly must do, you say you read and under-
stand it in this one consistent sense ; nay, you cannot
remember the time when you did not. It is otherwise
with me, and Avith multitudes; we remember when it
was a sealed book, and we are sure it would have been
so still, had not the Holy Spirit opened our understand-
ings. But when you add, " Though I pretend not to un-
" derstand the whole, yet what I do understand appears
Vol. I. • 4 D
568 Letters to the Rev, Mr. 5"****. Let. 8.
*' perfectly consistent;" I know not how far this exception
may extend, for perhaps the reason why you allow you
do not understand some parts, is because you cannot
make them consistent with the sense you put upon other
parts. You quote my words, " That when we are
" conscious of our depravity, reasoning stands us in no
" stead." Undoubtedly reason always will stand ra-
tional creatures in some stead ; but my meaning is, that
when we are deeply convinced of sin, all our former
reasonings upon the ways of God, while we made our
conceptions the standard by which we judge what is
befitting him to do, as if he were altogether such an one
as ourselves — all those cobweb reasonings are swept
away, and we submit to his ccvro^ i(pn without reasonings
though not without reason. For we have the strongest
reason imaginable to acknowledge ourselves vile and
lost, without righteousness and strength, when we ac-
tually feel ourselves to be so. — You speak of the Gos-
pel terms of justification. — This term is faith, Mark
xvi. \6. Acts. xiii. 39. The Gospel propounds, ad-
mits, no other term. But this J'ait/i, as I endeavoured
to show in my former letter, is very different from ra-
tional assent. You speak likewise of the law oij'aith ;
by which, if you mean what some call the remedial law,
which we are to obey as well as we can, and such obe-
dience, together with our faith, ^\\\\ entitle us to accept-
ance with God, Lam persuaded the Scripture speaks of
no such thing. Grace and works of any kind, in the
point of acceptance with God, are mentioned by the
apostle not only as opposites or contraries, but as ab-
solutely contradictory to each other, like fire and water,
light and darkness ; so that the affirmation of one is the
denial of the other ; Rom. iv. 5. and xi. 6. God jus-
tifies freely, justifies the ungodly, and him that worketh
Let. 8. Letters to the Rev, Mr. 5'**=*=*. 569
not. Though justifying faith be indeed an active prin-
ciple, it worketh by love, yet not for acceptance. Those
whom the apostle exhorts " to work out their own sal-
" vation \\\ih fear and trembling,'' he considers as jus-
tified already ; for he considers them as believers, in
whom he supposed God had already begun a good
work; and if so, Avas confident he would accomplish it;
Phil. i. 6. To them, the consideration, that God, (who
dwells in the hearts of believers,) wrought in them to
will and to do, was a powerful motive and encourage-
ment to them to work ; that is, to give all diligence in
his appointed means ; as a right sense of the sin that
dwelletli in us, and the snares and temptations around
us, will teach us still to work with fear and trembling.
You suppose a difference between Christians, (so called,)
who are devoted to God in baptism, and those who in
the first ages were converted from abonjinable supersti-
tions and idolatrous vices. — It is true, in Christian
countries we do not worship Heathen divinities eo no-
muie. And this is the principal difl^erence I can find.
Neither reason nor observation will allow me to think,
that human nature is a whit better now than it was in
the apostle's time. I know no kinds or degrees of
wickedness which prevailed among Heathens, w hich are
not prevalent among nominal Christians, who have per-
haps been baptized in their infancy ; and therefore, as
the streams in the life are equally worldly, sensual,
devilish, I doubt not but the fountain in the heart is
equally polluted and poisonous ; and that it is as true,
as in the days of Christ and his apostles, that unless a
man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.
You sent me a sermon upon the new birth, or ret^ene-
ration, and you have several of mine on the same sub-
ject. I wish you to compare them with each other.
57@ Letters to the Rev. Mr. ,S****. Let. 8.
and with the Scripture ; and I pray God to show you
wherein the difference consists, and on which side the
truth lies.
AVhen you desire me to reconcile God's beino- the au-
thor of sin with his Justice, you show that you misunder-
stand the whole strain of my sentiments; for 1 am per-
suaded you would not misrepresent them. It is easy to
charge harsh consequences, which I neither allow, nor
indeed do they follow from my sentiments. God can-
not be the author of sin in that sense you would fix upon
me ; but is it possible that upon your plan you find
no difficulty in what the Scripture teaches us upon this
subject? I conceive, that those who were concerned
in the death of Christ were very great sinners ; and that
in nailing him to the cross they committed atrocious
wickedness. Yet, if the apostle may be believed, all this
was according to the determinate council and fore know-
ledge of God, Acts ii. 23. ; and they did no more than
what his hand and purpose had determined should be
done, chap. iv. 28. And you will observe, that this
wicked act, (wicked with respecttothe perpetrators,) Mas
not only permitted, but fore-ordained in the strongest
and most absolute sense of the word. The glory of God
and the salvation of men depended upon its being done,
and just in that manner, and M'ith all those circum-
stances which actually took place ; and yet Judas and
the rest acted freely, and the m ickedness was properly
their own. Now, my friend, the arguments which sa-
tisfy you, that the Scripture does not represent God
as the author of this sin in this appointment, will plead
for me at the same time ; and when you think you easily
overcome me by asking, " Can God be the author of
sin ?" your imputation falls as directly upon the M'ord of
God himself. G od is no more the author of sin, than
Let. 8. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. S7%
the sun is the cause of ice ; but it is in the nature of
water to congeal into ice when the sun's influence is sus-
pended to a certain degree. So there is sin enough in
the hearts of men to make the earth the very image of
hell, and to prove that men are no better than incarnate
devils, were he to suspend his influence and restraint.
Sometimes, and in some instances, he is pleased to sus-
pend it considerably ; and so far as he does, human na-
ture quickly appears in its true colours. Objections of
this kind have been repeated and refuted before either
you or I were born ; and the apostle evidently supposes
they would be urged against his doctrine, when he ob-
viates the question, " VV^hy doth he yet find fault? who
" hath resisted his will r" To which he gives no other an-
swer than by referring it to God's sovereignty, and the
power which a potter has over the clay. I think I have
in a former letter made some reply to the charge of po-
sitiveness in my own opinion. I acknowledge that I
am fallible ; yet I must again lay claim to a certainty
about the way of salvation. I am as sure of some things
as of my own existence : I should be so if there was no
human creature uponeaith but myself However, my
sentiments are contirmed by the suffrages of thousands
who have lived before me, of many with whom 1 have
personally conversed in diflerent places and circum-
stances, unknown to each other ; yet all have received
the same views, because taught by the same Spirit. And I
have likewise been greatly confirmed by the testimony of
many with whom I have conversed in their dying hours.
I have seen them rejoicing in the prospect of death, free
from fears, breathing the air of immortality ; heartily dis-
claiming their duties and performances ; acknowledging
that their best actions were attended with evil sufficient
to condemn them ; renouncing every shadow of hope,
S72 Letters to the Rev, Mr. 5*^**. Let. 8.
but what they derived from the blood of Christ, as the
sole cause of their acceptance ; yet triumphing in him
over every enemy and fear, and as sure of heaven as if
they were already there. And such were the apostle's
hopes, wholly founded on knowing whom he had be-
lieved, and his persuasion of his ability to keep that
which he had committed unto him. This is faith, a re-
nouncing of every thing we are apt to call our own, and
relying wholly upon the blood, righteousness, and inter-
cession of Jesus. However, I cannot communicate this
my certainty to you ; I only tell you there is such a
thing, in hopes, if you do not think I wilfully lie both
to God and man, you will be earnest to seek it from
him who bestowed it on me, and who will bestow it
upon all who will sincerely apply to him, and patient-
ly wait upon him for it.
I cannot but wonder, that while you profess to be-
lieve the depravity of human nature, you should speak
of good qualities inherent in it. The word of God de-
scribes it as evil, only evil, and that continually. That
there are such qualities as Stoics and infidels call virtue,
I allow. God has not left man destitute of such dis-
positions as are necessary to the peace of society ; but
I deny there is any moral goodness in them, unless they
are founded in a supreme love to God, have his glory
for their aim, and are produced by faith in Jesus Christ.
A man may give all his goods to feed the poor, and his
body to be burned, in zeal for the truth, and yet be a
mere nothing, a tinkling symbal, in the sight of him who
seeth not as man seeth, but judgeth the heart. INIany
infidels and avowed enemies to the grace and Gospel of
Christ, have made a fair show of what the world call
virtue ; but Christian virtue is grace, the eifect of a new-
nature and new life ; and works thus wrought in God
Let. 8. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****. 573
are as different from the faint, partial imitations of them
which fallen nature is capable of producing, as a living
man is from a statue. A statue may express the fea-
tures and lineaments of the person whom it represents,
but there is no life.
Your comment on the seventh to the Romans, latter
part, contradicts my feelings. You are either of a dif-
ferent make and nature from me, or else you are not
rightly apprised of your own state, if 30U do not find
the apostle's complaints very suitable to yourself I be-
lieve it applicable to the most holy Christian upon earth.
But controversies of this kind are worn thread-bare.
When you speak cf the spiritual part of a natural man,
it sounds to me like the living part of a dead man, or
the seeing part of a blind man. Paul tells me, that the
natural man, (whatever his spiritual part may be,) can
neither receive nor discern the things of God. What
the apostle speaks of himself, Rom. vii. is no more,
when rightly understood, than what he affirms of all who
are partakers of a spiritual life, or who are true be-
lievers, Gal. v. 17. The carnal, natural mind, is en-
mity against God, not subject to the law of God, nei-
ther indeed can be. — V\'hen you subjoin, " Till it be
" set at liberty from the law of sin,'" you do not com-
ment upon the text, but make an addition of your own,
which the text will b}' no means bear. The carnal mind
is enmity. An enemy may be reconciled ; but enmity
itself is incurable. This carnal mind, natural man, old
man, flesh, for the expressions are all equivalent, and
denote and include the heart of man as he is by nature,
may be crucijied, must be mortified^ but cannot be sane-
t'ljitd. All that is good or gracious, is the effect of a
new creation^ a supernatural principle, w rought in the
heart by the Gospel of Christ, and the agencv of his
574 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5***-*. Let. 8.
Spirit ; and till that is effected, the to C-^tMv, the highest
attainment, the finest qualifications in man, however
they may exalt him in his own eyes, or recommend him
to the notice of his fellow worms, are but abomination
in the sight of God ; Luke xvi. 15. The gospel is cal-
culated and designed to stain the pride of human glory.
It is provided, not for the wise and the righteous, for
those who think they have good dispositions and good
works to plead, but for the guilty, the helpless, the
wretched ; tor those who are ready to perish : it fills the
hungry with good things, but it sends the rich empty
away. See Rev, iii. 17, 18.
You ask. If man can do nothing without an extraor-
dinary impulse from on high, is he to sit still and care-
less? By no means. — I am far from saying man can
do nothing, though 1 believe he cannot open his own
eyes, or give himself taith. — I wish every man to ab-
stain carefully from sinful company, and sinful actions,
to read the Bible, to pray to God for his heavenly teach-
ing. For this waiting upon God he has a moral ability ;
and if he persevere thus in seeking, the promise is sure,
that he shall not seek in vain. But I would not have
him mistake the means for the end ; think himself good
because he is preserved from gross vices and follies, or
trust to his religious course of duties for acceptance, nor
be satisfied till Christ be revealed in him, formed within
him, dwell in his heart by faith, and till he can say upon
good grounds, " I am crucified with Christ ; neverthe-
*' less, I live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in niC." I
need not tell you these are Scriptural expressions ; I
am persuaded, if they were not, they would be exploded
by many as unintelligible jargon. True taiih, my dear
Sir, unites the soul to Chrst, and thereby gives access
to God, and fills it with a peace passing understanding.
Let. 8. Letters to the Rev. Mr. ,S****. 675
a hope, a joy unspeakable and full of glory ; teaches
us that we are weak in ourselves, but enables us to be
strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. To
those who thus believe, Christ is precious, their be-
loved ; they hear and know his voice ; the very sound
of his name gladdens their hearts ; and he manifests
himself to them as Jie does not to tlie xvorld. Thus the
Scriptures speak, thus the first Christians exi)erienced ;
and this is precisely the language which in our days is
despised as enthusiasm and folly. For it is now as it
was then, though these things are revealed to babes,
and they are as sure of them as that they see the noon-
day sun, they are hidden from the wise and prudent,
till the Lord makes them willing to renounce their own
wisdom, and to become fools, that they may be truly
wise, ] Cor. i. 18, 19. iii- 8. viii. 2. Attention to the
education of children is an undoubted duty; and it is
a mercy when it so far succeeds as to preserve them
from gross wickedness ; but it will not change the heart.
They who receive Christ are born, not of blood, nor
of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of
God ; John i. \Z.
If a man professes to love the Lord Jesus, I am wil-
ling to believe him, if he does not give me proof to the
contrary ; but I am sure, at the same time, no one can
love him in the Scriptural sense, who does not know the
need and the worth of a Saviour ; in other words, who
is not brought, as a ruined, helpless sinner, to live upon
him for wisdom, righteousness, sanctitication, and re-
demption. They who love him thus will speak highly
of him, and acknowledge that he is their all in all. And
they who thus love him, and speak of him, will get little
thanks for their pains in such a world as this : — " All
" that live godly in Christ Jesus must suffer persecu-
VoL. L 4 E
bU ZcUers to the Rev. 3Ir. S**^^. Let. 8,
*' tion ; the world that hated him, will hate them."
And though it is possible by his grace to put to silence,
in some measure, the ignorance of foolish men ; and
though his providence can protect his people, so that
not a hair of their heads can be hurt without his per-
mission, yet the world will shozv their teeth, if they are
not suffered to bite. The apostles were accounted bab-
blers, wj ■jriftx.a.Qxpy.ocTci, rov Koa^ixov, kva TavTWv ffspj-J/n/AiX. 1 UCCd nOt
point out to you the force of these expressions. We
are no better than the apostles ; nor have we reason to
expect much better treatment, so far as we walk in their
steps. On the other hand, there is a sober, decent way
of speaking of God, and goodness, and benevolence,
and sobriety, which the world will bear well enough ;
nay, we may say a little about Jesus Christ, as ready to
make up the deficiencies of our honest and good en-
deavours, and this will not displease them. But if we
preach him as the only foundation ; lay open the horrid
evils of the human heart ; tell our hearers that they are
dead in trespasses and sins, and have no better ground
of hope in themselves than the vilest malefactors, in
order to exalt the glory of Jesus, as saving those who
are saved wholly and freely for his own name's sake ; if
we tell the mi^tuous and decent, as well as the, profligate ,
that unless they are born again, and made partakers of
living faith, and count all things loss for the excellency
of the knoxcledge of Christ, they cannot be saved; this
the world cannot bear. We shall be called knaves or
fools, uncharitable bigots, and twenty hard names. If
you have met with nothing like this, I wish it may lead
you to suspect whether you have yet received the right
key to the doctrines of Christ; for, depend upon it, the
offence of the cross is not ceased.
I am grieved and surprised, that you seem to take
Let. .8. Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5'**^=*. 577
little notice of any thing in the account of my deceased
friend, but his wishing himself to be a Deist, and his
having play books about him in his iUness. As to the
plays, they were Shakspcare's, which, as a man of taste,
it is no great wonder he should sometimes look in.
Your remark on the other point shows, that you arc not
much acquainted with the exercises of the human mind
under certain circumstances. I believe I observed for-
merly, that it was not a libertine wish. Had you known
him, you would have known one of the most amiable
and unblemished characters. Few were more beloved
and admired for an uniform course of integrity, modera-
tion, and benevolence ; but he was discouraged. He
studied the Bible, believed it in general to be the word
of God ; but his wisdom, his strong turn for reasoning,
stood so in his way, that he could get no solid comfort
from it. He felt the vanity of the schemes proposed by
many men admired in the world as teachers of divinity ;
and he felt the vanity likewise of his own. He was also
a minister, and had a sincere design of doino; good.
He wished to reform the profligate, and comfort the
afflicted, by his preaching; but as he was not acquainted
w ith that one kind of preaching which God owns to the
edification of the hearers, he found he could do neither.
A sense of disappointments of this kind, distressed him.
Finding in himself none of that peace which the Scrip-
ture speaks of, and none of the influence he hoped for
attending his ministry, he was led sometimes to question
the truth of the Scripture. We have a spiritual enemy
always near, to press upon a mind in this desponding
situation : nor am I surprised that he should then wish
himself a Deist ; since, if there were any hope for a
sinner, but by faith in the blood of Jesus, he had as
much of his own goodness to depend upon as most I
§78 Letters to the Rev. Mr. 5****'. Let. 8,
have known. As for the rest, if you could see nothing
admirable and wonderful in the clearness, the dignity,
the spirituality of his expressions, after the Lord re-
vealed the gospel to him, I can only say, I am sorry
for it. This I know, that some persons of sense, taste,
learning, and reason, and far enough from my sentiment s,
have been greatly struck with them. You say, a death-
bed repentance is what you would be sorry to give any
hope of. My dear friend, it is Avell for poor sinners
that God's thoughts and ways are as much above men's,
as the heavens are higher than the earth. We agreed
to communicate our sentiments freely, and promised not
to be offended with each others freedom, if we could
help it. I am afraid of offending you by a thought just
now upon my mind, and yet I dare not in conscience
suppress it : I must therefore venture to sa}^, that I
hope they who depend upon such a repentance as 30ur
scheme points out, will repent of their repentance itself
upon their deathbed at least, if not sooner. You and
I, perhaps, should have encouraged the fair spoken
young man, who said he had kept all the command-
ments from his youth, and rather have left the thief upon
the cross to perish like a villain, as he lived. But Jesus
thought differently. I do not encourage sinners to defer
their repentance to their deathbeds — I press the neces-
sity of a repentance this moment. But then I take care
to tell them, that repentance is the gift of God ; that
Jesus is exalted to bestow it ; and that all their endea-
v^ours that way, unless they seek to him for grace, will
be vain as washing a Blackmoor, and transient as wash-
ins a swine, which will soon return to the mire a2;ain.
I know the evil heart will abuse the snice of God ; the
apostle knew this likewise, Rom. iii. 8. and vi, 3. But
this did not tempt him to suppress the glorious grace of
Let. 8. Letters to tlve Rev, Mr. 5*^**. 579
the Gospel, the power of Jesus to save to the uttermost,
and his merciful promise, that whosoever cometh unto
him, he will in nowise cast out, 1 he repentance of a
natural heart, proceeding wholly from fear, like that of
some malefactors, who are sorry, not that they have
committed robbery or murder, but that they must be
hanged for it: this, undoubtedly, is nothing worth, whe-
ther in time of health, or in a dying hour. But that
fji'.rccvoKx., that gracious change of heart, views, and dis-
positions, which always takes place when Jesus is made
known to the soul as having; died that the sinner might
live, and been wounded that he might be healed ; this,
at whatever period God is pleased to afford and effect
it by his Spirit, brings a sure and everlasting salvation
%vith it.
Still I find I have not done : you ask my exposition
of the parables of the talents and pounds ; but at pre-
sent I can write no more. I have only just time to tell
you, that when I begged your acceptance of Omicron,
nothing was further from my expectation than a corre-
spondence with you. The frank and kind manner in
which you wrote, presently won upon my heart. In
the course of our letters upon Subscription, I observed
an integrity and disinterestedness in you, which eU'
deared you to me stiil more. Since that our debates
have taken a much more interestincr turn ; I have con-
sidered it as a call, and an opportunity put in my hand,
by the especial providence ol Him vvlio ruleth over all.
I have embraced the occasion to lay before you simpl}-,
and rather in a way of testimony than argumentation,
what, (in the main,) I am sure is truth, I have done
enough todischariie my conscience but shall never think
I do enough to ansuer the affection I bear you. I
have done enough likewise to make vou weary of my
S80 Letters to the B,€v, Mr, 6'*=-^^**. Let. g.
correspondence, unless it should please God to fix the
subject deeply upon your mind, and make you atten-
tive to the possibility and vast importance ol a mistake
in matters of everlasting concernment. I pray that the
good Spirit of God may guide you into all truths. He
only is the effectual teacher. I still retain a cheerful
hope, that some things you cannot at present receive,
will be hereafter the joy and comfort of your heart; but
I know it cannot be till the Lord's own time. I cannot
promise to give such long answers as your letters re-
quire, to clear up every text that may be proposed, and
to answer every objection that may be started; yet I
shall be glad to change a letter now and then. At pre-
sent it remains with you, whether our correspondence
continues or not, as this is the third letter I have written
since I heard from you, and therefore must be the last
till I do. I should think what remains might be better
settled vwa "voce ; for which purpose I shall be glad to
see you, or ready to wait on you when leisure will per-
mit, and when I know it will be agreeable : but if, (as
life and all its affairs are precarious,) we should never
meet in this world, I pray God we may meet at the
right hand of Jesus, in the great day, when he shall
come to gather up his jewels, and to judge the world.
There is an endless diversity of opinions in matters of
religion ; which of them are right and safe, and will lead
to eternal glory, Dies iste indicabit. I am still in a
manner lost amidst more engagements than I have time
to comply with ; but I feel and know that I am, &c.
ELEVEN LETTERS
TO
Mr. B****, &c.
LETTER I.
My Dearest Sir, September 28, 1774.
J. SEE the necessity of having, if possible, my prin-
ciples at my finger's ends, that I may apply them as oc-
casions arise every hour. Certainly, if my ability was
equal to my incliiiation, I would remove your tumour
with a word or a touch ; I would exempt you instantly
and constantly from every inconvenience and pain : bat
you are in the hands of one who could do all this and
more, and who loves you infinitely better than I can
do, and yet he is pleased to permit you to suffer. What
is the plain inference? Certainly, that at the pre-
sent juncture, he to whom all the concatenations and
consequences of events are present in one view, sees it
better for you to have this tumour than to be without
it ; for I have no more idea of a tumour rising, (or any
other incidental trial befalling you,) without a cause,
without a need-be, without a designed advantage to re-
sult from it, than I have of a mountain or a pyramid
rising up of its own accord in the middle of Salisbury
Plain. The promise is express, and literally true, that
all things, universally and without exception, shall work
together for good to them that love God. But they
work together : the smallest as vrell as the greatest
582 Letters to Mr. 5*=»^**. Let. 1.
events have their place and use, like several stones in
the arch of a bridge, where no one would singly be use-
ful, but every one in its place is necessary to the struc-
ture and support of the arch ; or, rather, like the move-
ment of a watch, where, though there is an evident sub-
ordination of parts, and some pieces have a greatercom-
parative importance than others, yet the smallest pieces
have their place and use, and are so far equally impor-
, tant, that the whole design of the machine would be
obstructed for want of them. Some dispensations and
turns of Divine providence may be compared to the
main spring or capital wheels, which have a more visi-
ble, sensible, and determining influence upon the whole
tenour of our lives : but the more ordinary occurrences
of every day are at least pins and pivots, adjusted,
timed, and suited with equal accuracy, by the hand of
the same great Artist who planned and executes the
whole ; and we are sometimes surprised to see how
much more depends and turns upon them than we
were aware of Then we admire his skill, and say he
has done all things well. Indeed, with respect to his
works of providence, as well as of creation, he well
deserves the title of — Ma.ihnus hi minimis. Such
thoughts as these, when I am enabled to realize them,
in some measure reconcile me to what he allots for
myself or my friends, and convince me of the propriety
of that expostulation, which speaks the language of
love as well as authority, " Be still, and know that I
" am God." I sympathize with you in your trial, and
pray and trust that your Shepherd will be your Physi-
cian ; will superintend and bless the use of means ;
will give you in his good time health and cure, and at
all times reveal unto you abundance of peace. His
promises and power are necessary for our preservation
Let. 2, Letters to Mr. 5****=. 583
in the smoother scenes he has allotted for us, and they
are likewise sufficient for the roughest. We are alwaj/s
equally in danger in ourselves, and always equally safe
under the shadow of his wings. No storms, assaults,
sieges, or pestilences, can hurt us, till we have filled up
his appointed measure of service ; and when our work
is done, and he has ripened us for glory, it is no great
matter by what means he is pleased to call us home to
himself
I have only room to present our joint and sincerest
respects. The Lord bless you all.
I am, &c.
LETTER II.
My Dearest Sir, October 15, 1774.
X THINK the greatness of trials is to be estimated
rather by the impression they make upon our spirits,
than by their outward appearance. The smallest will
be too heavy for us if we are left to grapple with it in
our own strength, or rather weakness ; and if the Lord
is pleased to put forth his power in us, he can make
the heaviest light. A lively impression of his love, or
of his sufferings for us, or of the glories within the
vail, accompaniea with a due sense of the misery from
which we are redeemed ; these thoughts will enable us
to be not only submissive, but even joyful, in tribula-
tions. When faith is in exercise, though the flesh will
have its feelings, the spirit will triumph over them. But
it is needful we should know that we have no sufficiency
in ourselves, and in order to know it we must feel it ;
and therefore the Lord sometimes withdraws his sen-
VoL. L 4 F
584 Letters to Mr. i3#***. Let. 2.
sible influence, and then the buzzing of a fly will be an
overmatch for our patience : at other times he will
show us what he can do in us and for us; then wq can
adopt the apostle's words, and say, I can do and suffer
all things through Christ strengthening me. He has
said. My grace is sufiicient for thee. It is observable,
that the children of God seldom disappoint our expecta-
tions under great trials ; if they show a wrongness of
spirit, it is usually in such little incidents that we are
ready to wonder at them. For which, two reasons
may be principally assigned. When great trials are in
view, we run simpl}'^ and immediately to our all-suf-
ficient Friend, feel our dependence, and cry in good
earnest for help ; but if the occasion seems small, we
are too apt secretly to lean to our own wisdom and
strength, as if in such slight matters we could make
shift without him. Therefore in these we often fail.
Again, the Lord deals with us as we sometimes see
mothers with their children. When a child begins to
walk, he is often very self-important : he thinks he
needs no help, and can hardly bear to be supported by
the finser of another. Now in such a case, if there is
no danger of harm from a fall, as if he is on a plain
carpet, the mother will let him alone to try how he can
walk. He is pleased at first, but presently down he
comes ; and a few experiments of this kind convince
him he is not so strong and able as he thought, and make
him willing to be led. But was he upon the brink of a
river or a precipice, from whence a fall might be fatal,
the tender mother would not trust him to himself; no,
not for a moment. I have not room to make the ap-
plication, nor is it needful. It requires the same grace
to bear with a right spirit a cross word, as a cross in-
Lei. 3. Letters to Mr. Z?****. 53$
jury ; or the breaking of a china- plate, as the death of
an only son.
I am, he.
LETTER III.
My Dear Sir, November 23, 1774.
I
HOPE to be informed in due time, that the Lord
has given you full health and cure. He has preserved
me hitherto from the hands of surgeons ; but I feel as
if my flesh would prove, as you say, a very coward,
were it needful to submit to a painful operation. Yet
I observe, when such operations are necessary, if peo-
ple are satisfied of a surgeon's skill and prudence, they
will not only yield to be cut at his pleasure, without
pretending to direct him where, or how long, he shall
make the incision, but will thank and pay him for put-
ting them to pain, because they believe it for their ad"
vantage. I wish I could be more like them in my con-
cerns. My body, as I said, is, through mercy, free
from considerable ailments, but I have a soul that re-
quires surgeon's w^ork continually : there is some tumour
to be discussed or laid open, some dislocation to be
reduced, some fracture to be healed almost daily. It
is my great mercy, that One who is infallible in skill,
who exercises incessant care and boundless compassion
towards all his patients, has undertaken my case; and
complicated as it is, I dare not doubt his making a
perfect cure. Yet, alas ! I too often discover such im-
patience, distrust, and complaining, when under his
hand ; am so apt to find fault with the instruments he
is pleased to make use of, so ready to think the salu-
tary wounds he makes unnecessary, or too large ; iii a
586 Letters to Mr. 5****. Let. 3.
word, I show such a promptness to control, were I
able, or to direct his operations, that, were not his pa-
tience beyond expression, he would before now have
given me up. I am persuaded, no money would in-
duce Mr. **** to attend upon a patient who should
act towards him as I have towards my best Physician.
Sometimes I indulge a hope that I am growing wiser,
and think surely, after such innumerable proofs as I
have had, that he does all things well, I shall now be
satisfied to leave myself, quietly and without reserve,
to his disposal. A thousand such surrenders I have
made, and a thousand times I have interpretatively re-
tracted them. Yet still he is gracious. O, how shall
I praise him at last !
I thank you for your letter ; I never receive one from
you without pleasure, and, I believe, seldom without
profit, at least for the time. I believe, with you, that
there is much of the proper and designed efficacy of
the Gospel mystery which I have not yet experienced :
and I suppose they who are advanced far beyond me in
the divine life, judge the same of their utmost present
attainments. Yet I have no idea of any permanent
state in this life, that shall make my experience cease
to be a state of warfare and humiliation. At my first
setting out, indeed, I thought to be better, and to feel
myself better, from year to year; I expected by degrees
to attain every thing which I then comprised in my idea
of a saint. I thought my grain of grace, by much dili-
gence and careful improvement, would, in time, amount
to a pound ; that pound, in a further space of time, to
a talent; and then I hoped to increase from one talent
to many : so that, supposing the Lord should spare mc
a competent number of years, I pleased myself with
the thought of dying rich. — But, alas! these my golden
Let. 3, Letters to Mr. 5^***. 587
expectations have been like South Sea dreams : I have
lived hitherto a poor sinner, and I believe I shall die
one. Have I then gained nothing by waiting upon
the Lord ? Yes, I have gained that, m hich I once
would rather have been without, such accumulated
proofs of the deceitfulness and desperate wickedness
of my heart, as I hope, by the Lord's blessing, has
in some measure, taught me to know what I mean,
when I say, Behold, I am vile ! And in connexion
with this, I have gained such experience of the wisdom,
power, and compassion of my Redeemer, the need, the
worth, of his blood, righteousness, attention, and inter-
cession— the glory that he displays in pardoning ini-
quity and sin, and passing by the transgression of the
remnant of his heritage, that my soul cannot but cry
out, Who is a God like unto thee ! Thus, if I have
any meaner thoughts of myself, Ezek. xvi. 63. and any
higher thoughts of him than I had twenty years ago,
I have reason to be thankful ; every grain of this ex-
perience is worth mountains of gold. And if, by his
mercy, I shall yet sink more in my own esteem, and he
will be pleased to rise still more glorious to my eyes,
and more precious to my heart, I expect it will be
much in the same w av. I was ashamed when I besan
to seek him, I am more ashamed now ; and I expect
to be most of all ashamed when he shall appear to de-
stroy my last enemy. But, O ! I may rejoice in him,
to think that he will not be ashamed of me.
I am, t^c.
588 Letters to Mr. B****. Let. 4.
LETTER IV.
My Dear Sir, May 19, 1775.
X HOPE you will find the Lord present at all times,
and in all places. When it is so, we are at home every
where ; when it is otherwise, ko7?ie is a prison, and
abroad a wilderness. I know what I ought to desire,
and what I do desire. I point him out to others as
the all in all; I esteem him as such in my own judg-
ment ; but, alas ! my experience abounds with com-
plaints. He is my sun ; but clouds, and sometimes
walls, intercept him from my view. He is my strength ;
yet I am prone to lean upon reeds. He is my friend ;
but on my part there is such coldness and ingratitude
as no other friend could bear. But still he is gracious,
and shames me with repeated multiplied goodness. O
for a warmer heart, a more simple dependence, a more
active zeal, a more sensible deliverance from the effects
of this body of sin and death ! He helps me in my
endeavours to keep the vineyards of others ; but, alas I
my own does not seem to flourish as some do around
me. However, though I cannot say I labour more
abundantly than they all, I have reason to say with
thankfulness, by the grace of God, I am what I am.
My poor story would soon be much worse, did not he
support, restrain, and watch over me every minute.
Let me entreat your praises and prayers, on the behalf
of me and mine; and may the Lord bless you and yours
with an increase in every good.
I am, &c.
Let. o. Letters to Mr. B**^^. 589
LETTER V.
My Dear Sir, September 2, 1776.
JL he young woman I spoke of is still living, and not
much weaker than when I left her. The Lord Avas
pleased to relieve her on Titesday evening, and she was
comfortable the remainder of the week. But yester-
day her conflicts returned, and she was in great dis-
tress. The enemy, who always fights against the peace
of the Lord's children, finds great advantage against
them when their spirits are weakened and worn down
by long illness, and is often permitted to assault them.
The reasons are hidden from us, but they are doubtless
worthy of his wisdom and love, and they terminate in
victory, to the praise of his glorious grace, which is
more signally manifested by his leading them safely
through fire and water, than if their path was always
smooth. He is sovereign in his dispensations, and ap-
points some of his people to trials and exercises, to
which others, perhaps, are strangers all their days. Be-
lievers are soldiers ; all soldiers by their profession are
engaged to fight, if called upon ; but who shall be
called to sustain the hottest service, and be most fre-
quently exposed upon the field of battle, depends upon
the will of the general or king. Some of our soldiers
are now upon hard service in America, while others
are stationed round the palace, see the king's face
dail}^, and have no dangers or hardships to encounter.
These, however, are as liable to a call as the others ;
but, if not called upon, they may enjoy with thankful-
ness the more easy post assigned them. Thus, the
Captain of our salvation allots to his soldiers such sta-
590 Letters to Mr. i5****. Let. 5.
tions as he thinks proper. He has a right to employ
whom he will, and where he will. Some are com-
paratively at ease ; they are not exposed to the fiercest
onsets, but live near his presence : others are, to ap-
pearance, pressed above measure, beyond strength, so
that they despair even of life ; yet they are supported,
and in the end made more than conquerors through
him who hath loved them. Long observation con-
vinces me that the temptations which some endure, are
not chastisements brought upon them by unfaithful-
ness, or for any thing remarkably wrong in their spirit
or walk ; I often rather consider that in his warfare,
as in worldly wars, the post of danger and difficulty is
the post of honour, and as such, assigned to those whom
he has favoured with a peculiar measure of his grace.
This young woman, in particular, was always from her
first awakening remarkably humble and spiritual, and
possessed of a broken and contrite spirit. I never saw
her in a wrong spirit, or heard her speak an unadvised
•word. Yet I believe it is impossible to express the
agonies she has endured. The effect of them is visi-
ble. Her animal frame was unable to sustain the bur-
den. I believe they were the immediate cause of that
illness wliich is now bringing her down to the grave.
I doubt not but these cases depend in a great measure
upon constitution ; but then the temperament of our
bodies depends upon his pleasure ; for if the very hairs
of our head are numbered, it is impossible that those
circumstances of our frame, which, by the the near con-
nexion between body and soul, have a powerful in-
fluence upon the state of our minds, can escape his
notice. He could cure such bodily disorders as affect
the peace of his people in a moment ; yet he does not,
though he loves them. There must be, therefore, wise
Let. 5. Letters to Mr. ^#***. 5.91
reasons why he does not ; and though we know them
not now, we shall know them hereafter. Possibly
some suffer for the instruction of the rest, that we may
learn to be more thankful to him for the peace we en-
joy, and to be more humbly dependent upon him for
the continuance of it. The Lord's way is in the deep,
and his patli in the great waters, untraceable by our
feeble reasonings ; but faith brings in a good report.
We need not doubt but he does all things well, and in
due time we shall see it. In the mean while he checks
our vain inquiries, and calls upon us to be still, and
know that he is God.
I brought home with me a thankful sense of the kind-
ness and friendship I am favoured with from you and
all yours. I account this connexion one of the great
comforts of my life ; and I hope it has been, and will
be, not only pleasant but profitable to me. Though
I am but an unapt scholar, I hope I am not unwilling
to learn ; and the Lord, in his merciful providence, ap-
points me many teachers. There is little praise due
to us, if we either communicate or receive benefit in
our intercourse with our fellow-disciples. In both we
are but instruments under the influence of a higher
hand. Were Christians to meet together without their
Lord, they would either trifle or quarrel their time
away. But as he has said, Where two or three are met,
there am I in the midst of them, we may well be glad of
opportunities of coming together. And though, for my
own part, I am so poor an improver of such seasons,
that the recollection of them, when past, is generally
accompanied with shame and regret ; yet he is gracious
and merciful, and seldom leaves me to complain that
they were wholly in vain.
I am, &c.
Vol. L 4 G
5&3. Letters to Mr. 5*^**. Let. 0.
LETTER VL
My Dear Sir, July 22, 177?.
Tiie complaints you make of what passes uitJiin, en-
courage me under what I feel myself. Indeed, if those
who, I have reason to believe, are more spiritual and
humble than I am, did not give some testimony that
they find their hearts made of the same materials as
mine is, 1 should be sometimes hard put to it to be-
lieve that I have any part or lot in the matter, or any
real knowledge of the life of faith. But this concur-
rent testimony of many witnesses, confirms me in what
I think the Scripture plainly teaches, that the soil of
human nature, though many spots are certainly better
weeded, planted, and manured than others, is every
where the same, universally bad ; so bad that it cannot
be worse, and of itself is only capable of producing
noxious weeds, and nourishing venomous creatures. We
olten see the effects of culture, skill, and expense, will
make a garden where all was desert before. When
Jesus, the good husbandman, encloses a soil, and sepa-
rates it from the waste of the world, to make it a resi-
dence for himself, a change presently takes place ; it is
planted and watered from above, and visited -with
beams infinitely more cheering and fertilizing than those
of the material sun. But its natural propensity to bring
forth weeds still continues, and one half of his dispen-
sations may be compared to a company of weeders,
whom he sends forth into his garden to pluck up all
which he has not planted with his own hand, and
Lc{. 7. Letters to Mr. 5****, Jun. 593
which, if left to grow, would quickly overpower and
overtop the rest. But, alas ! the ground is so impreg-
nated with evil seeds, and they shoot in such quick suc-
cession, that if this weeding work were not constantly
repeated, all former labour would be lost. Hi?ic illce
lachrymcE. Hence arises the necessity of daily crosses
and disappointments, daily changes of frame, and such
multiplied convictions that we are nothing, and can do
nothing, of ourselves ; all are needful and barely suf-
ficient to prevent our hearts from being over-run with
pride, self-dependence, and security.
Yours, &c.
LETTER VII.
My Dear Sir, November 6, 1777
Y<
OU say you are more disposed to cry miserere than
hallelujah. Why not both together ? When the treble
is praise, and heart-humiliation for the base, the me-
lody is pleasant, and the harmony good. However,
if not both together, we must have them alternately :
not all singing, not all sighing, but an interchange and
balance, that we may be neither lifted too high, nor cast
down too low, which would be the case if we were very
comfortable or very sorrowful for a long continuance.
But though we change, the Saviour changes not. All
our concerns are in his hands, and therefore safe.
His path is in the deep waters, his thoughts and me-
thods of conduct are as high above ours, as the heavens
are high above the earth ; and he often takes a course
for accomplishing his purposes directly contrary to what
our narrow views would prescribe. He wounds in
594 Letter to Mr, B*^-^*,Jun. Let. 8.
order to heal, kills that he may make alive, casts down
when he designs to raise, brings a death upon our feel-
ings, wishes, and prospects, uhen he is about to givetis
the desire of our hearts. These things he does to
prove us ; but he himself knows, and has determined
before-hand, what he will do. The proof indeed usually
turns out to our shame. Impatience and unbelief show
their heads, and prompt us to suppose this and the
other thing ; yea, perhaps, all things are against us, to
question whether he be with us and for us, or not. But
it issues likewise in the praise of his goodness, when we
find that, maugre all our unkind complaints and sus-
picions, he is still working wonderfully for us, causing
light to shine out of darkness, and doing us good in de-
fiance of ourselves.
I am, &c.
LETTER VIII.
To Mr. i?****. Jun,
Dear Sir, August 24, 1774.
X HE lowness of your voice, and a blameable absence
of mind on my part, prevented me from understanding
M'hat you said when you took your leave of me ; nor
did I just at that instant recollect that you were so
soon going away. I could not otherwise have parted
with you, without a particular expression of my warm-
est wishes for your welfare, and commending you, with
an emotion Avhich my heart always feels for you, to
our God, and the word of his grace. Permit me,
therefore, by writing, to assure you, so far as I can
Let. 8. Letter to Mr. £****, Jwi. 595
answer for myself, that the request you were pleased
to make for my remembrance, will not be forgotten
by me.
You are going abroad ; you will carry with you, I
doubt not, the best advice, strengthened by the autho-
rity and aiFection of parents, whom you greatly love
and greatly reverence. This may seem to make any
thing a stranger can offer unnecessary, if not imperti-
nent ; yet, confiding in your candour, and in your good
opinion of my intention, I shall venture to let my pen
run on a little longer. Not only my wishes, but
my hopes, are strong in your behalf. Perhaps there is
hardly a young man in the kingdom, born to a fortune,
who is setting out in life upon equal advantages with
yourself. How many at your years, who have been
brought up in affluence, are unprincipled, uninstructed,
and have already entered upon a course of dissipation
and folly, in which it is impossible they themselves can
find satisfaction, and which, (unless they are reclaimed
from it by an Almighty arm,) will infallibly preclude
them from usefulness or esteem ! whereas, your early
years have been successfully employed in the pursuit of
knowledge, and your education formed under the most
animating and endearing influence ; and the Lord has
furnished you with every natural ability of body and
mind, which may qualify you to serve him in that situ-
ation of life which his providence has allotted you.
What may I not then further hope from these begin-
nings, especially as it is easy to observe, that he has
given you an amiable and promising disposition of spirit,
and has not only preserved you from being hurried down
the stream of a giddy world, but enabled you to account
the tender restraint under which you have been edu-
cated, not a yoke, but a privilege.
596 Letter to Mr. J5****, Jw. Let. 8.
I sympathize with you at what you will feel when
you are first separated from your happy family. But
the Lord God, who is the sun and shield of those who
fear him, vvill be always near you ! His favour is the
one thing needful, which no outward advantages can
compensate the want of; and the right knowledge of
him is the one thing needful, which no human teaching
can communicate.
Were I more intimate with you, I could have asked
the question, and perhaps received the satisfaction to
know, that 3'ou have already begun to consider him in
this light ; that you feel a vanity in science, an empti-
ness in creatures, and find that you have desires which
only He who gave them can satisfy. I trust it either
is, or will be thus. As to learning, though it is use-
ful when we know how to make a right use of it, yet
considered as in our own power, and to those who
trust to it, without seeking a superior guidance, it \s>
usually the source of perplexity, strife, scepticism, and
infidelity. It is, indeed, like a sword in a madman's
hands, which gives him the more opportunity of hurt-
ing himself and others. As to what the world calls
pleasure, there is so little in it, that even the philoso-
phers of old, or many of them, though they had little
of value to substitute in its room, could despise it.
You will perhaps meet with some, who will talk an-
other language, who will pretend to be too wise to sub-
mit to the Bible, and too happy in worldly things, to
expect or desire any happiness beside ; but I trust you
have seen enough to enable you to treat such persons
with the pity, and such pretensions with the contempt,
tiiey deserve.
Should we set our concerns with an eternal 'ncorlil
aside for a moment, it would be easy to demonstrate
Let. S. Letter to Mr. £#^^ *, j^n. 597
that religion is necessary, in order to make the most
of this life, and to enjoy temporal good with the highest
relish. In such a world as this, where we are every
moment liable to so many unforeseen and unavoidable
contingencies, a man without religion may be compared
to a ship in a storm, without either rudder, anchor, or
pilot. But then, the religion which only deserves the
name, must come from above ; it must be suited to
the state and wants of a sinner ; it must be capable of
comforting the heart ; it must take away the sting and
dread of death, and fix our confidence upon one who is
always able to help us. Such is the religion of Jesus,
such are its effects, and such are the criteria whereby
we are to iud^e of the various forms and schemes un-
der which it is proposed to us. But I forbear; I am
only reminding you of what you know, and what you
have known to be verified by living and dtjing example::.
This happiness, my dear sir, is open to you, to all who
seek. He is enthroned in heaven, but prayer will bring
him down to the heart. Indeed he is always before-
hand with us ; and if we feel one desire towards him,
we may accept it as a token, that he gave it us to en-
couracre us to ask for more.
O
May he be your guide and guard, be with you at all
times, and in all places, and bring you back to your fa-
ther's house in peace. Should I live to see that day,
you have few friends whose congratulations would be
warmer or more sincere than mine ; and if, w hen you
are settled and at leisure, you will afford me a letter, it
will .be both a pleasure and a favour to, dear sir,
YOLUS. &c.
598 Letters to Miss M. B^^^^. Let. 1).
LETTER IX.
To MissM.B**"^*.
My Dear INiiss M****, November 11, 1775.
UR last visit to **** was very pleasant to myself;
if any thing that passed was of service to you, we know
to whom the thanks are due; for we can neither com-
municate nor receive any thing, but so far as he i^
pleased to enable us. One reason why he often dis-
appoints us is, that we may learn to depend on him
alone. We are prone, as you observe, to rest too
much upon sensible comforts, yet they are very desir-
able ; only as to the measure and seasons, it is well to
be submissive to his will, to be thankful for them when
we have them, and humbly waiting for them when we
have them not. They are not, however, the proper
ground of our hope ; a good hope springs from such a
sense of our wants, and such a persuasion of his power
and grace, as engages the heart to venture, upon the
warrant of his promises, to trust in him for salvation.
In a sense, we are often hindering him by our impa-
tience and unbelief; but, strictly speaking, when he
really begins the good work, and gives us a desire
which will be satisfied with nothing short of himself, he
will not be hindered from carrying it on ; for he has
said, I will work, and none shall let it. Ah I had it
depended upon myself, upon my wisdom or faithful-
ness, 1 should have hindered him to purpose, and ruined
myself long ago ! How often have I grieved and re-
sisted his Spirit ! but hereby I have learned more of
Let. 9. Letters to Miss M. ^#***. 599
liis patience and tenderness, than I could otherwise
have known. He knows our frame, and w hat etfects
our evil nature, fomented by the artifices of Satan, will
have ; he sees us from first to last. A thousand evils
arise in our hearts, a thousand wrongnesses in our con-
duct, which, as they do arise, are new to ourselves, and
perhaps at some times we were ready to think we were
incapable of such things ; but none of them are new to
him, to whom past, present, and future, are the same.
The foresight of them did not prevent his calling us b)^
his grace. Though he knew we were vile, and should
prove ungrateful and unfaithful, yet he would be found
of us ; he would knock at the door of our hearts, and
gain himself an entrance. Nor shall they prevent his
accomplishing his gracious purpose. It is our part to
be abased before him, and quietly to hope and wait for
his salvation in the use of his appointed means. The
power, success, and blessing, are wholly from himself
To make us more sensible of this, he often withdraws
from our perceptions : and as, in the absence of the
sun, the wild beasts of the forest roam abroad ; so,
when Jesus hides himself, we presently perceive what
is in our hearts, and what a poor shift we can make
without him ; when he returns, his light chases the
evils away, and we are well again. However, they are
not dead when most controlled by his presence.
It is your great and singular mercy, my dear miss,
that he has taught you to seek him so early in life.
You are entered in the way of salvation, but you must
not expect all at once. The work of grace is com-
pared to the corn, and to a building ; the growth of the
one, and the carrying forward of the other, are gradual.
In a building, for instance, if it be large, there is much
Vol. I. 4 H
600 Letters to Miss 31. 5****. Let. 9.
to be done in preparing and laying the foundation, be-
fore the walls appear above ground ; much is doing
within, when the work does not seem perhaps to ad-
vance without ; and when it is considerably forward,
yet being encumbered with scaffolds and rubbish, a
by-stander sees it at a great disadvantage, and can
form but an imperfect judgment of it. But all this
while the architect himself, even from the laying of
the first stone, conceives of it according to the plan
and design he has formed ; he prepares and adjusts
the materials, disposing each in its proper time and
place, and views it, in idea, as already finished. In
due season it is completed, but not in a day. The
top-stone is fixed, and then the scaffolds and rubbish
being removed, it appears to others as he intended it
should be. Men, indeed, often plan what, for want of
skill or ability, or from unforeseen disappointments,
they are unable to execute. But nothing can disap-
point the heavenly Builder ; nor will he ever be re-
proached with forsaking the work of his own hands, or
beginning that which he could not or would not accom-
plish; Phil. 1. 6. Let us therefore be thankful for be-
ginnings, and patiently wait the event. His enemies
strive to retard the work, as they did when the Jev>'s, by
his order, set about rebuilding the temple. Yet it was
finished in defiance of them all.
Believe me to be, &c.
Let. 10. Letters to Miss M. £****. 601
I
LETTER X.
My Dear Miss M****, April 29, 1776.
THANKyouforyour last; and I rejoice in the Lord's
goodness to you. To be drawn by love, exempted from
those distressing terrors and temptations which some
are beset with; to be favoured with the ordinances and
means of grace, and connected with those, and with
those only, who are disposed and qualified to assist and
encourage you in seeking the Saviour ; these are pecu-
liar privileges, which all concur in your case : he loves
you, he deals gently with you, he provides m ell for you,
and accompanies every outward privilege with his special
blessing; and I trust he will lead you on from strength to
strength, and show you still greater things than you have
yet seen. They whom he teaches are always increasing
in knowledge, both of themselves and of him. The heart
is deep, and like Ezekiel' s vision, presents so many
chambers of imagery, one within another, that it requires
time to get a considerable acquaintance with it, and we
shall never know it thoroughly. It is now more than
twenty-eight years since the Lord began to open mine
to my own view; and from that time to tfiis, almost every
day has discovered to me something which till then was
unobserved ; and the further I go, the more I seem con-
vinced that I have entered but a little way. A person
that travels in some parts of Derbyshire may easily be
satisfied that the country is cavernous; but how large,
how deep, how numerous the caverns may be, which are
hidden from us by the surface of the ground, and what is
contained in them, are questions which our nicest in-
quirers cannot fully answer. Thus I judge of my heart,
Letters to Miss M. 2?****. Let. 10.
that it is very deep and dark, and full of evil ; but as to
particulars, I know not one of a thousand.
And if our own hearts are beyond our comprehension,
how much more incomprehensible is the heart of Jesus!
If sin abounds in us, grace and love superabound in him ;
his ways and thoughts are higher than ours, as the
heavens are higher than the earth, his love has a height,
and depth, and length, and breadth, that passeth all
knowledge ; and his riches of grace are unsearchable
riches, Ephes. iii. 8. 18, 19- All that we have received
or can receive from him, or know of him in this life,
compared with what he is in himself, or what he has for
us, is but as the drop of a bucket compared ^vith the
ocean, or a single ray of light in respect of the sun. —
The waters of the sanctuary flow to us at first almost
upon a level, ankle deep ; so graciously does the Lord
condescend to our weakness ; but tiiey rise as we ad-
vance, and constrain us to cry out with the apostle, O
the depth ! We find before us, as Dr. Watts beautiful-
ly expresses it,
A sea of love and grace unknown,
Without a bottom or a shore.
O the excellency of the knowledge of Christ ! It will
be growing upon us through time, yea, I believe through
eternity. What an astonishing and what a cheering
thoucrht, that this hiirh and loftv one should unite himself
to our nature, that so, in a way worthy of his adorable
perfections, he might by his Spirit unite us to himself!
Could such a thought have arisen in our hearts, without
the warrant of his word, (but it is a thought which no cre-
ated mind was capable of conceiving till he revealed it,)
it would have been presumption and blasphemy; but
now he has made it known, it is the foundation of ou'.
Let. 11. Letters to Miss 31. 5****. G03
hope, and an inexhaustible spring of life and joy. Well
may we say, Lord, what is man, that thou shouldst thus
visit him !
I am, &c.
W,
LETTER XL
My Dear Miss M***, September 3, 1776.
E saw no danger upon the road homeward ; but my
judgment tells me we are always upon the brink of dan-
ger, though we see it not ; and that, without the imme-
diate protection and care of Him who preserveth the
stars in their courses, there could be no travelling safely
a few miles, noreven sittingin safety by the fire-side. But
with him we are safe in all places and circumstances, till
our race is done, and his gracious purposes concerning
us, in the present life, are completely answered ; —
then he will call us home, that we may see his face,
and be with him for ever ; and then it will not much
signify what messenger he shall be pleased to send for
us.
While he took care of us abroad, he watched over
our concerns at home likewise; so that we found all well
upon our return, and met with nothing to grieve us.
Many go out and return home no more, and many find
distressing things have happened in their absence ;
but we have to set up our Ebenezer, and to say, Hi-
therto he has helped us. Assist me to praise him.
The Lord is leading you in the good old way, in which
vou may perceive the footstepts of his flock who have
gone before you. They had in their day the same difficul-
ties, fears, and complaints as we have, and through mercy
\ye partake of the same consolation which supported and
refreshed them ; and the promises which they trusted and
604 Letters to Miss M. B***^. Let. 11.
found faithful, are equally sure to us. It is still true,
that they who believe shall never be confounded. If left
to ourselves, we should have built upon sand : but he
has provided and revealed a sure foundation, removed
our natural prejudices against it ; and now, though rains,
and floods, and storms, assault our building, it cannot
fall, for it is founded upon a rock. The suspicions and
fears which arise in an awakened mind, proceed, in a
good measure, from remaining unbelief; but not wholly
so, for there is a jealousy and diffidence of ourselves, a
w'ariness, owing to a sense of the deceitfulness of our
hearts, which is a grace, and a gift of the Lord. Some
people who have much zeal, but are destitute of this
jealous fear, may be compared to a ship that spreads a
great deal of sail, but is not properly ballasted, and is
therefore in danger of being overset whenever a storm
comes. A sincere person has many reasons for distrust-
ing his own judgment ; is sensible of the vast import-
ance of the case, and afraid of too hastily concluding in
his own favour, and therefore not easily satisfied. How-
ever, this fear, though useful, especiall}'' to young begin-
ners, is not comfortable; and they who simply wait upon
Jesus, are gradually freed from it, in proportion as their
knowledge of him, and their experience of his goodness,
increases. He has a time for settling and establishing
them in himself, and his time is best. We are hasty, and
would be satisfied at once, but his word is, " Tarry
'' thou the Lord's leisure." The work of grace is not
like Jonah's Gourd, w hich sprang up and flourished in a
night, and as quickly withered ; but rather like the oak,
which, from a little acorn and a tender plant, advances
with an almost imperceptible growth from year to year,
till it becomes a broad, spreading, and deep-rooted tree,
and then it stands for ages. The Christian oak shall grow
Let. 11. Letters to Miss M. ii****. G05
and flourish for ever. When I see any, soon after they
appear to be awakened, making a speedy profession of
great joy, before they have a due acquaintance with
their own hearts, I am in pain for them. I am not
sorry to hear them afterwards complain that their joys
are gone, and they are ahnost at their wit's end ; for with-
out some such check, to make them feel their weakness
and dependence, I seldom find them turn out well ; ei-
ther their fervour insensibly abates, till they becomequite
cold, and sink into the world again, (of which I have
seen many instances,) or, if they do not give up all, their
walk is uneven, and their spirit has not that savour of
brokenness and true humility, which is a chief ornament
of our holy profession. If they do not feel the plague
of their hearts at first, they frnd it out afterwards, and
too often manifest it to others. Therefore, though I
know the Spirit of the Lord is free, and will not be con-
fined to our rules, and there may be excepted cases ;
yet, in general, I believe the old proverb, " Soft and
" fair goes far," will hold good in Christian experience.
Let us be thankful for the beginnings of grace, and wait
upon our Saviour patiently for the increase. And as
we have chosen him for our physician, let us commit
ourselves to his management, and not prescribe to him
what he shall prescribe for us. He knows us, and he
loves us better than we do ourselves, and will do all
things well.
You sa}', " It never came with powder and life to my
" soul, that he died for me." If you mean, you never
had any extraordinary sudden manifestation, something
like a vision or a voice from heaven, confirming it to
you, I can say the same. But I know he died for
sinners ; I know I am a sinner : I know he invites them
that^re ready to perish ; I am such a one : I know,
606 Letters to Miss M. B^^^^, Let. 11.
upon his own invitation, I have committed myself to
him ; and I know, by the effects, that he has been with
me hitherto, otherwise I should have been an apostate
long ago ; and therefore I know that he died for me ;
for had he been pleased to kill me, (as he justly might
have done,) he would not have shown me such things
as these.
If I must perish, would the Lord
Have taught my heart to love his word l
Would he have given me eyes to see
My danger and my remedy ?
Reveal'd his name, and bid me pray,
Had he resolv'd to say me nay ?
I know that I am a child, because he teaches me to
say, Abba, Father. I know that I am his, because he
has enabled me to choose him for mine. For such a
choice and desire could never have taken place in my
heart, if he had not placed it there himself. By nature
I was too blind to know him, too proud to trust him,
too obstinate to serve him, too base-minded to love
him. The enmity I was filled with against his govern-
ment, righteousness and grace, was too strong to be
subdued by any power but his own. The love I bear
him is but a faint and feeble spark, but it is an emana-
tion from himself : he kindled it, and he keeps it alive ;
and because it is his work, I trust many waters shall
not quench it.
I have only room to assure you, that I am, &c.
FOUR LETTERS
TO THE
Rev. Mr. R****.
LETTER I.
My Dear Sir, April 15, 1776.
^ tP ^ ^ -5^ ^ -W ^
I often rejoice on your behalf. Your call out of
the world was a singular, comfortable instance of the
power of grace. And when I consider the difficulties
and snares of your situation, and that you have been
kept in the middle path, preserved from undue com-
pliances on the one hand, and unnecessary singularities
on the other, I cannot doubt but the Lord has hitherto
helped and guided you. Indeed you have need of his
guidance. At your years, and with your expectations
in life, your health firm, and your natural spirits lively,
you are exposed to many snares : yet if the Lord keeps
you sensible of your danger, and dependent upon him,
3'ou will walk safely. Your security, success, and com-
fort, depend upon him : and, in the way of means,
chiefly upon your being preserved in an humble senses
of your own weakness. It is written, " Fear not, I
" am with thee." It is written again, " Blessed is th^
" man w ho feareth always." There is a perfect har-
mony in those seemingly different texts. IMay the wis-
dom that Cometh from above, teach you and me to keep
them both united in our view. If the Lord be with us,
we have no cause of fear. His eye is upon uS; his arm
Vol. L 4 1
668 Letters to theliev. Mr. i2*#**. Let. L
over us, his ear open to our prayer ; his grace sufficient,
his promise unchangeable. Under his protection, though
the path of duty should lie through fire and water, we
may cheerfully and confidently pursue it. On the other
hand, our hearts are so deceitful, fallible, and frail ; our
spiritual enemies so subtle, vvatchful, and powerful; and
they derive so many advantages from the occasions of
every day, in which we are unavoidably and unexpect-
edly concerned ; there is so much combustible within,
and so many temptations arising from without, capable
of setting all in a flame ; that we cannot be too jealous
of ourselves and our circumstances. The duke of De-
vonshire's motto, (if I mistake not,) well suits the Chris-
tian, Caverido tutus. When we can say in the Psalmists
spirit, Hold thou me up, we may warrantably draw his
conclusion, and I shall be safe ; but the moment "sve
lean to our own understanding, we are in imminent
danger of falling. The enemy who wars against our
souls, is a consummate master in his way, fertile in
stratagems, and equally skilful in carrying on his assaults
by sap or by storm. He studies us, if I may so say,
all round, to discover our weak sides ; and he is a very
Proteus for changing his appearances, and can appear
as a sly serpent, a roaring lion, or an angel of light, as
best suits his purpose. It is a great mercy to be in
some measure acquainted with his devices, and aware
of them. They who wait humbly upon the Lord, and
consult carefully at his word and throne of grace, are
made wiser than their enemy, and enabled to escape
and withstand his wiles. I know you will not expect
me to apologize for putting you in mind of these things,
though you know them, I have a double warrant; the
love I bear you, and the Lord's command, Heb. iii. 13.
Use the like freedom with me ; I need it, and hope to
Let. 2. Letters to the Rev. Mr. i?****. C09
be thankful for it, and accept it as one of the best proofs
of friendship.
The Lord bless and keep you. Pray for us, and be-
lieve me to be, sincerely yours.
LETTER II.
My Dear Sir, July 13,1776.
-1 HE Lord, who mercifully called you out of a state
of thoughtless dissipation, and has hitherto been with
you, will, I trust, sweeten all your trials, and cause his
light to shine upon your paths. It seems probable, that
if you pay a just regard to your father's negative, which
I really think he has a right to expect from you, and at
the same time make a steady and conscientious use of
that negative which he generously allows you to put
upon his proposals, to which I think you have an equal
right ; I say, while things remain in this situation, and
you continue to think differently, it seems probable,
that the hour of your exchanging a single for the mar-
riage state, is yet at some distance. But let not this
grieve you. The Lord is all-sufficient. A lively sense
of his love, a deep impression of eternity, a heart filled
with zeal for his cause, and a thirst for the good of souls,
\\\\\, I hope, enable you to make a cheerful sacrifice of
whatever has no necessary connexion with your peace
and his service. And you may rest assured, that when-
ever he, who loves you better than you do yourself, sees
it best for you upon the whole to change your condi-
tion, he will bring it about; he will point out the person,
prepare the means, and secure the success, by his pro-
vidence, and the power he has over every heart. And
you shall see that all previous difficulties were either
610 Letters to the Rev. Mr. i?#^**. Let. 2,
gracious preventions, which he threw in the way, to pre*
vent your taking a wrong step, or temporary bars, which,
by his removing them afterwards, should give you op-
portunity of more clearly perceiving his care and inter-
position in your favour. In the mean time remember
your high calling. — You are a minister and ambassador
of Christ ; you are intrusted with the most honourable
and important employment that can engage and animate
tne neart OI man. TaSra p.?XETa, h thtoi? iO-Si, iiriy-ivt al-voic* .
Filled and fired with a constraifiins; sense of the love
of Jesus, and the worth of souls, impressed \\\\h. an ar-
dour to carry war into Satan's kingdom, to storm his
strong holds, and rescue his captives ; you will have
little leisure to think of any thing else. How does the
love of glory stimulate the soldier, make him forget and
forego a thousand personal tendernesses, and prompt
him to cross oceans, to traverse deserts, to scale moun-
tains, and plunge into the greatest hardships and the
thickest dangers ! They do it for a corruptible crown,
a puff of breath, an empty fame ; their highest pro-
spect is the applause and favour of their prince. We
likewise are soldiers, we have a Prince and Captain
who deserves our all. They who know him, and have
hearts to conceive of his excellence, and to feel their
obligations to him, cannot, indeed, seek their own glory;
but his glory is dearer to them than a thousand lives.
They owe him their souls, for he redeemed them with
blood, his own blood ; and by his grace he subdued and
pardoned them when they were rebels, and in arms
against him. Therefore they are not their own, they
would not be their own. When his standard is raised,
when his enemies are in motion, when his people are to
* ! Tim. iv. 15.
Let. 3. Letters to the Rev. Mr. i2*#**. 611
be rescued ; they go forth clothed with his panoply,
they fight under his eye, they are sure of his support,
and he shows them the conqueror's crown. O when
they think of that Ey, ^hm ayaQs*, with which he has pro-
mised to welcome them home when the campaign is
over, hard things seem easy, and bitter things sweet;
they count nothing, not even their own lives dear, so
that they may finish their course with joy. May the
Lord make us thus minded ; give us a hearty concern
for his business, and he has engaged to take care of
ours ; and nothing that can conduce to our real com-
fort and usefulness shall be with-held.
Believe me to be sincerely yours.
LETTER in.
My Dear Friend, December 21, 1 776.
Y(
OUR letter brought me tidings of joy, and then fur-
nished me with materials for a bonfire upon the occa-
sion. It Mas an act of passive obedience to burn it,
but I did obey. I congratulate you upon the happy
issue to which the Lord has brought your affairs. I
see that his good Spirit and good providence have been
and are with you. I doubt not but your union with
]\Iiss ****' will be a mutual blessing, and, on your part,
heightened by being connected with such a family. I
could enlarge upon this head, if viy letter likewise was
to be burnt as soon as you have read it. 1 look upon
the friendship the Lord has given me there, as one of
my prime privileges ; and I hope I shall always be
* Well done, good servaijt.
G12 Letters to the Rev. Mr. i?****. Let. 3.
thankful that it proved a means of introducing you in-
to it.
I congratulate you likewise upon your accession to
******, not because it is a good living, in a genteel
neighbourhood, and a fine country ; but because I be-
lieve the Lord sends you there for fulfilling the desires
he has given you, of being useful to souls. Church-
preferment, in any other view, is dreadful ; and I would
as soon congratulate a man upon seeing a millstone
tied about his neck, to sink him into the depths of the
sea, as upon his obtaining what is called a good living,
except I thought him determined to spend and be spent
in the cause of the Gospel. A parish is an awful mill-
stone indeed to those who see nothing valuable in the
flock but the fleece : but the Lord has impressed your
heart with a sense of the glory and importance of his
truth, and the worth of souls ; and animated your zeal
by the most powerful motive, the knowledge of his con-
straining love. Your case is extraordinary. Perhaps,
when you review in your mind the circle of your former
gay acquaintance, you may say with Job's servant, " I
*' only am escaped alive :" — The rest are either re-
moved into an eternal state, or are still hurrying down
the stream of dissipation, and living w ithout God in the
world. Yet there was a time when there seemed no
more probability on your side than on theirs, that you
should obtain mercy, and be called to the honour of
preaching the glorious Gospel. You are setting out
with every possible advantage. In early life, with a
cheerful flow ot spirits, affluent circumstances, and now,
to crown all, the Lord gives you the very choice of your
heart in a partner ; one w ho, besides deserving and
meeting your affection, will, I am persuaded, be a real
Let. 3. Letters to the Rev. Mr. i?****. 613
helpmeet to you in your spiritual walk. How much is
here to be thankful tor !
I trust the Lord has given you, and will maintain in
you, a right spirit, so as not to rest in his gifts, but to
hold thein in connexion with the love and favour of the
giver. It is a low time v, ith us, when the greatest as-
semblage of earthly blessings can seem to satisfy us
without a real communion with him. His grace is suf-
ficient for you ; but undoubtedly such a scene of pros-
perity as seems to lie before you, is full of snares, and
calls for a double effort of \\ atchfulness and prayer. — '
Your situation will fix many eyes upon you, and Satan
will doubtless watch you, and examine every corner of
the hed2;e around you, to see if he can find a gap by
which to enter. Vie have but few rich Gospel-mini-
sters; but it is too evident that he has found a way to
damp the zeal and hurt the spirits of some of those few,
who for a time acted nobly, and seemed to walk out of
the reach of the allurements of the v.orld. I am not
jealous of you ; I feel a comfortable persuasion, that
the Lord has taken a fast hold of your heart, and given
you a fast hold of his almighty arm : yet I believe you
will not be displeased with me tor dropping a hint of
this kind, and at this time.
You have heard of the tpial with which the Lord has
been pleased to visit us ; it still continues, though con-
siderably alleviated. It is tempered with many mercies,
and I hope he disposes us in a measure to submission.
I trust it will be for good. Tvly dear friend, you are
coming into my school, w here you w ill learn, as occa-
sions offer, to feel more in the person of another than
in your own. But be not discouraged ; the Lord only
afflicts for our good. It is necessary that our sharpest
trials should sometimes spring from our dearest com-
614 Letters to the Rev. Mr. jR****. Let. 3.
forts, else ^ve should be in danger of forgetting ourselves,
and setting up our rest here. In such a world, and
with such hearts as we have, we shall often need some-
thing to prevent our cleaving to the dust, to quicken us
to prayer, and to make us feel that our dependence for
one hour's peace is upon the Lord alone. I am ready
to think I have known as much of the good and happi-
ness which this world can afford, as most people who
live in it. I never saw the person with whom I wished
to exchange in temporals. And for many years past I
have thought my trials have been light and few, com-
pared with what many, or most of the Lord's people
have endured. And yet, though in the main possessed
of my own wishes, when I look back upon the twenty-
seven years past, I am ready to style them, with Jacob,
" few and evil;" and to give the sum-total of their con-
tents in Solomon's words — " all is vanity." If I take
these years to pieces, I see a great part of them was
filled up with sins, sorrows, and inquietudes. The
pleasures, too, are gone, and have no more real exist-
ence than the baseless fabric of a dream. The shadows
of the evening will soon begin to come over us ; and if
our lives are prolonged, a thousand pains and infirmi-
ties, from which the Lord has in a remarkable measure
exempted us hitherto, will probably overtake us ; and
at last we must feel the parting pang. Sic transit gloria
onimdi. Sin has so envenomed the soil of this earth,
that the amaranth will not grow upon it. But we are
hastening to a better world, and bright unclouded skies,
where our sun will go down no more, and all tears shall
be wiped from our eyes.
I am, &c.
Let. 4. Lttters to the Rev. Mr, 22#***. 615
LETTER IV.
My Dear Friend, September 27, 1777.
Ml
.R. **** called on us on Thursday evening, and from
that hour my thoughts, when awake, have seldom been
absent from . Few- people are better qualified
to feel for you, yourself and the family excepted ; per-
haps there is no person living more nearly interested in
what concerns Mrs. **** than myself. I could not,
therefore, at such a time as this, refrain from writing ;
and glad should I be, if the Lord may help me to drop
a suitable word, and accompany it with a blessing to
you in the reading.
I am glad to be assured, (though I expected no less,)
that Mrs. **** happily feels herself safe in the Lord's
hand, and under the care of the good Shepherd and
Saviour, to whom she has often committed herself; and
finds him faithful to his promise, giving her strength in
her soul according to her day, and enabling her quietly
to submit to his holy, wise, and gracious will. And it
is my prayer, that he may strengthen you likewise, and
reveal his own all sufliciency so clearly and powerfully
to your heart, that you may not be afraid of any event,
but cheerfully rely upon him, to be all that to you, in
every circumstance and change, which his promise waN
rants you to expect.
I am willing to hope, that this is but a short season
of anxiety, appointed for the exercise of your fiiith and
patience, and to give you, in his good time, a signal
proof of his power and goodness in answering prayer.
He sometimes brings us into such a situation that the
Vol. I. 4 K
G16 Letters to the Rev. Mr. JS****. Let. 4,
help of creatures is utterly unavailing, that we may af-
terwards be more clearly sensible of his interposition^
Then we experimentally learn the vanity of all things
here below, and are brought to a more immediate and
absolute dependence upon himself. We have need of
having these lessons frequently inculcated upon us; but-
when his end is answered, how often, after he has caused
grief, does he show his great compassions, and save us
from our fears by an outstretched arm, and such a sea-
sonable and almost unexpected relief, as constrains us
to cry out, " What has God wrought ?" and, " Who is a
'' God like unto thee?" Such, I hope, will be the issue
of your present trial, and that he who gave her to you
at first, will restore her to you again. I see you in the
furnace ; but the Lord is sitting by it as a refiner of
silver, to moderate the lire, and manage the process, so
that you shall lose nothing but dross, and be brought
forth refined as gold, to praise his name. Apparent
difficulties, however great, are nothing to him. If he
speaks, it is done ; for to God the Lord belong the
issues from death. Should his pleasure be otherwise,
and should he call your dear partner to a state of glory
before you, still I know he is able to support you. What
he does, however painful to the flesh, must be right, be-
cause he does it. Having bought us with his blood,
and saved our souls from hell, he has every kind of
right to dispose of us and ours as he pleases ; and this
we are sure of, he will not lay so much upon us as he
freely endured for us ; and he can make us amends for
all we suffer, and for all we lose, by the light of his
countenance. A few years will set all to rights ; and
they who love him and are beloved by him^ though
they may suffer as others, shall not sorrow as others ;
Let. 4. Letters to the Rev. Mr. i2*#**. 617
for the Lord will be with them here, and he will soon
liave them with him : there all tears shall be wiped
from their eyes.
Perhaps I know as well how to calculate the pain of
such a separation, as any one who has not actually ex-
perienced it. Many a time the desire of my eyes has
been threatened, many a time my heart has been brought
low ; but from what I have known at such seasons, I
have reason to hope, that had it been his pleasure to
bring upon me the thing that I feared, his everlasting
arm would have upheld me from sinking under the
stroke. As ministers, we are called to comfort the
Lord's afflicted people, and to tell them the knowledge
of his love is a cordial able to keep the soul alive under
the sharpest trials. We must not wonder that he some-
times puts us in a way of showing that we do not deal
in unfelt truths, but that we find ourselves that solid
consolation in the Gospel, which we encourage others
to expect from it. You have now such an occasion of
glorifying the Lord ; I pray he may enable you to im-
prove it, and that all around you may see that he is
with you, and that his good word is the support and
anchor of your soul. Then I am sure, if it upon the
whole is best for you, he will give you the desire of your
heart, and you shall yet live to praise him together.
I ajn. &c.
A LETTER
TO THE
Rev. IVIr. O****.
Dear Sir, April 3, 1759.
JL OU see I have prevented you in 3'our promise of
writing first; and having found a pretext for troubling
]\lr. ■ , I was willing to venture upon you without
any, unless you will let me plead a desire of showing
you how welcome your correspondence would be to me.
I know not if my heart w as ever more united to any per-
son in so short a space of time, than to you ; and whaten-
gaged me so much was the spirit of meekness and of love
(that peculiar and inimitable mark of true Christianity,)
which I observed in you. I mean it not to your praise.
May all the praise be to him, from whom every good
and perfect gift cometh, who alone maketh the best to
differ from the worst : but I think I may well mention,
to your encouragement, that all who conversed with you,
greatly regret your speedy departure ; and I am per-
suaded, the same temper, the same candour, wdll make
you acceptable, honourable, and useful, wherever you
go. Blessed are the poor in spirit, the meek, the mer-
ciful, and the peace-makers ; they shall obtain the mercy
they want, and possess the peace they love. They shall
inherit the earth. The earth, sinful and miserable as
it is, shall be worthy to be called an inheritance to them,
for they shall enjoy a comparative heaven in it. They shall
Letter to the Rev, Mr. 0****. 619
be called the children of God, though dignified with no ti-
tle among men. Alas ! how much are these things over-
looked, even by many wlio, I would hope, are real be-
lievers. JMethinks a very different spirit from that of
the church of Laodicea, is to be seen amongst us; though
perhaps it is not easy to say which is the best of the two.
That was neither cold nor hot, this, (mirabile dictu,) is
both cold and hot at once, and both to the extreme.
Hot, hasty, and arbitrary, in those few things where
mediocrity is a virtue; but cool and remiss in those great
points, where the application of the whole heart, and
soul, and mind, and strength, is so absolutely neces-
sary, and so positively enjoined. Surely there is too
much room for this observation, and I perhaps stand
self-condemned in making it.
I hope you will take opportunity to improve your in-
terest in JNlr.**** by letter. He expressed much satis-
faction in the hour he spent with you before you sailed,
and a great regard for you ; therefore would, I doubt
not, give you a fair hearing, and the phrase UteraScripta
manet is true in more senses than one. He makes such
large concessions sometimes, that I am apt to think be is
conscious of the weakness of his own argument; and then
he is as soon angry with himself for complying so far,
and flies off to the other extreme. Yet for the most parf
when he speaks plain, and is not restrained by conv
plaisance for particular persons, he appears not only a
stranger to experimental religion, but averse to the notion,
and generally inclined to treat it with levity. His obsta-
cles are very many and very great ; his reputation as a
learned man, his years, his regular life, and perhaps
above all, his performances in print, especially liis last
book, are so many barriers that must be broke through
before conviction can reach him. But the grace of God
G20 Letter to the Rev. Mr. 0****.
can do all this and more ; and indeed when I think of
the many truly valuable parts of his character, and the
indefatigable pains he has taken in his researches after
truth, I am willing to hope, that the Lord will at length
teach him the true wisdom, and enable him, (however hard
it may seem,) to give up his own attainments, and sit
down like a little child at the feet of Jesus.
I hope to hear soon and often from you. I number
my Christian correspondents among my principal bless-
ings ; a few judicious pious friends, to whom, when I can
get leisure to write, I send my heart by turns. I can
trust them with my inmost sentiments, and can write
with no more disguise than I think. I shall rejoice to
add you to the number, if you can agree to take me as
I am, (as I think you will,) and suffer me to commit my
whole self to paper, without respect to names, parties,
and sentiments. I endeavour to observe my Lord's com-
mands, to call no man master upon earth ; yet I desire
to own and honour the image of God wherever I find it.
I dare not say I have no bigotry, for I know not myself;
and remember to my shame, that formerly, when I igno-
rantly professed myself free from it, I was indeed over-
run with it; but this I can say, I allow it not; I strive and
pray against it; and thus far, by the grace of God, I have
attained, that I find my heart as much united to many
who differ from me in some points, as to any who agree
with me in all. I set no value upon any doctrinal truth,
further than it has a tendency to promote practical holi-
ness. If others should think those things hindrances
which I judge to be helps in this respect, I am content
they should go on in their own way, according to the
light God has given them, provided they will agree with
me £» rf EwKvayxE?. If it should be asked, Which are
the necessary things ? I answer, Those in which the
Letter to the Rev. Mr. 0****. C21
spiritual worshippers of all ages and countries have
been agreed ; those on the contrary are mere subordinate
matters, in which the best men, those who have been
the most eminent for faith, prayer, humility, and nearness
to God, always have been, and still are, divided in their
judgments. Upon this plan, I should think it no hard
matter to draw up a form of sound w'ords, (whether dif-
nified with the name of a creed or no, I care not,) to
which true believers of all sorts and sizes would unani-
mously subscribe, Soppose it ran something in the fol-
lowing manner : I believe that sin is the most hateful
thing in the world : that I and all men are by nature in
a state of wrath and depravity, utterly unable to sustain
the penalty, or to fulfil the commands of God's holy law;
and that we have no sufficiency of ourselves to think a
good thought. I believe that Jesus Christ is the chief
among ten thousands ; that he came into the world to
save the chief of sinners, by making a propitiation for sin
by his death, by paying a perfect obedience to the law
in our behalf; and that he is now exalted on high, to give
repentance and remission of sins to all that believe ; and
that he ever liveth to make intercession for us. I be-
lieve that the Holy Spirit, (the gift of God through
Jesus Christ,) is the sure and only guide into all truth,
and the common privilege of all believers ; and under
his influence, I believe the Holy Scriptures are able to
make us wise unto salvation, and to furnish us tho-
roughly for every good work. I believe that love to
God, and to man for God's sake, is the essence of re-
ligion, and the fulfilling of the law ; that without holi-
ness no man shall see the Lord ; that those who by a
patient course in well-doing, seek glor\', honour, and
immortality, shall receive eternal life ; and I believe
that this reward is not of debt but of grace, even to the
623 Letter to the Hev, Mr. 0**^*.
praise and glory of that grace, whereby he has made us
accepted in the Beloved. Amen.
I pretend not to accuracy in this hasty draught ; they
are only outlines, which, if you please to retouch, and
fill up at your leisure, I hope you will favour me with
a sight of it. I fear I have tired you. Shall only add my
prayers, that the Lord may be with you, ajid crown
your labours of love with success, that you may herer
after shine among those who have been instrumental
in turning many to righteousness.
I am, &c.
SEYEM LETTERS
TO THE
Rev. Mr. P****.
LETTER I.
Dear Sir,
HE account which I received by Mr. C****, and by
the letter which he brought from you, of your welfare,
and the welfare of your people, was very pleasing,
though indeed no more than I expected. I believed,
from the first of your going to S****, that you would
like the people, and I believed the Lord had given you
that frame of spirit which he has promised to bless;
What reason have we to praise him for the knowledge
of his Gospel, and for the honour of being called to
preach it to others ! and likewise that he has been
pleased to cast your lot and mine amongst a people
who value it, and to crown our poor labours with some
measure of acceptance and usefulness. How little did
we think, in the unawakened part of our life, to what
it was his good pleasure to reserve us !
The Lord is pleased, in a measure, to show me the
suitableness and necessity of an humble dependent
frame of heart, a ceasing from self, and a reliance upon
him in the due use of appointed means ; I am far from
having attained, but I hope I am pressing, at least
seeking after it. I v^ish to speak the word simply and
experimentally, and to be so engaged with the import-
ance of the subject, fhe worth of souls, and thethoucrht
Vol. T. 4 L
624 Letters to the Rev. Mr. P****. Let. 2.
that I am speaking in tlie name and presence of the
Most High God, as that I might, if possible, forget
every thing else. This would be an attainment in-
deed ! More good might be expected from a broken
discourse, delivered in such a frame, than from the
most advantageous display of knowledge and gifts with-
out it. Not that I would undervalue propriety and
pertinence of expression : it is our duty to study to find
out acceptable words, and to endeavour to appear as
workmen that need not be ashamed ; but those who
have most ability in this way, have need of a double
guard of grace and wisdom, lest they be tempted to
trust in it, or to value themselves upon it. They that
trust in the Lord shall never be moved ; and them that
abase themselves before him, he will exalt. I am well
persuaded that your conduct and views have been
agreeable to these sentiments ; and therefore the Lord
has supported, encouraged, and owned you ; and I
trust he will still bless you, and make you a blessing to
ixiany. He that walketh humbly walketh surely.
Believe me to be, &c.
Y«
LETTER II.
My Dear Sir, August 14, IZfO,
OUR letter did me good when I received it, at least
gave me much pleasure ; and I think it has given me a
lift while I have been just now reading it I know not
that I ever had those awful views of sin which you
speak of; and though I believe 1 should be better for
them, I dare not seriously wish for them. There is a
petition which I have heard in public prayer, Lord
show us the evil of our hearts. To this petition I can-
Let 2. Letters to the Rev. Mr. J»**^*. 625
not venture to set my Amen, at least not without a qua-
lification. Show me enough of thyself to balance the
view, and then show me what thou pleasest. I think
I have a very clear and strong conviction in my judg-
ment, that I am vile and worthless, that my heart is full
of evil, only evil, and that continually. I know some-
thing of it too experimentally; and therefore, judging
of the whole by the sample, though I am not suitably
affected with what I do see, I tremble at the thought
of seeing more. A man may look with some pleasure
upon the sea in a storm, provided he stands safe upon
the land himself; but to be upon the sea in a storm,
is quite another thing. And yet surely the coldness,
worldliness, pride, and twenty other evils under which
I groan, owe much of their strength to the want of that
feeling sense of my own abominations with which you
have been favoured : I say favoured, for I doubt not
but the Lord gave it you in mercy, and that it has
proved, and will prove a mercy to you, to make you
more humble, spiritual, and dependent, as well as to
increase your ability for preaching the Gospel of his
grace. Upon these accounts, I can assure you, that
upon a first reading, and till I stopped a moment to
count the cost, I was ready to envy you all that you
had felt. I often seem to know what the Scripture
teaches both of sin and grace, as if I knew them not ;
so faint and languid are my perceptions, I often seem
to think and talk of sin without any sorrow, and of
grace without any joy.
I have had some people awakened by dreams, as
you had by streamers ; but for aught I know, we are
no less instrumental to the good of these, than to any
other person, upon whom w hen we look, our hearts are
ready to exult and say, See what the Lord has done by
626 Letters to the Rev. Mr. P***=5^. Let. g.
me. I do not think that, strictly speaking, all the
streamers of the north are able to awaken a dead soul.
I suppose people may be terrified by them, and made
thoughtful, but awakened only by the word. The
streamers either sent them to hear the Gospel, or
roused them to attend to it ; but it was the knowledge of
the truth brought home to the heart, that did the busi-
ness. Perhaps the streamers reminded them of what
they had heard from you before. Two persons here, who
lived like Heathens, and never came to church, were
alarmed by some terrifying dreams, and came out to
hearing forthwith. There the Lord was pleased to
meet with them. One of them died triumphing ; the
other, I hope, will do so when her time comes. What-
ever means, instruments, or occasions he is pleased to
employ, the work is all his own ; and I trust you and
I are made willing to give him all the glory, and to sink
into the dust at the thought that he should ever permit
us to take his holy name upon our polluted lips.
I am, &c.
LETTER IIL
My Dear Sir, June 13, 1772.
JL OU say that your experience agrees with mine. It
must be so, because our hearts are alike. The heart
is deceitful and desperately wicked, destitute of good,
and prone to evil. This is the character of mankind
universally, and those who are made partakers of grace,
are renewed but in part ; the evil nature still cleaves to
them, and the root of sin, though mortified, is far
from being dead. While the cause remains, it will
have efifects ; and while we are burdened with the body
of this death, we must groan under it. But we need
Let. 3. Letters to the Rev. Mr. P***#. 627
not be swallowed up with over-much sorrow, since we
have in Jesus, a Saviour, a Righteousness, an Advocate,
a Shepherd. " He knows our frame, and remembers
" that we are but dust." If sin abounds in us, grace
abounds much more in him ; nor would he suffer sin to
remain in his people, if he did not know how to over-
rule it, and make it an occasion of endearing his love
and grace so much the more to their souls. The Lord
forbid that we should plead his goodness as an en-
couragement to sloth and indifference. Humiliation,
godly sorrow, and self-abasement become us ; but, at
the same time, we may rejoice in the Lord. Though sin
remains, it shall not have dominion over us ; though it
wars in us, it shall not prevail against us. We have a
mercy-seat sprinkled with blood, we have an advocate
■with the Father, we are called to this warfare, and we
fight under the eye of the Captain of our salvation,
who is always near to renew our strength, to heal our
wounds, and to cover our heads in the heat of battle.
As ministers, vve preach to those who have like pas-
sions and infirmities with ourselves ; and by our own
feelings, fears, and changes, we learn to speak a word
in season to them that are weary, to warn those who
stand, and to stretch out a hand of compassion towards
them that are fallen ; and to commend it to others,
from our own experience, as a faithful saying, " That
"Jesus came to save the chief of sinners." Besides, if
the Lord is pleased to give us some liberty, acceptance,
and success in preaching the Gospel, we should be in
great danger of running mad with spiritual pride, if the
Lord did not permit us to feel the depravity and vileness
of our hearts, and thereby keep us from forgetting what
we are in oursel'ves.
With regard to your young people, you must expect
62S Letters to the Rev. Mr. P^*^. Let. 4.
to meet with some disappointment. Perhaps not every
one of whom you have conceived hopes will stand ; and
some who do belong to the Lord are permitted to make
sad mistakes for their future humiliation. It is our part
to watch, warn, and admonish; and we ought likewise to
be concerned for those slips and miscarriages which
we cannot prevent. A minister, if faithful, and of a
right spirit, can have no greater joy than to see his peo-
ple walking honourably and steadily in the truth ; and
hardly any thing will give him more sensible grief, than
to see any of them taken in Satan's wiles. Yet still
the Gospel brings relief here. He is wiser than we
are, and knows how to make those things subservient
to promote iiis work which we ought to guard against
as evils and hindrances. We are to use the means :
he is to rule the whole. If the faults of some are
made warnings to others, and prove in the end occa-
sions of illustrating the riches of divine grace, this
should reconcile us to what we cannot help, though such
considerations should not slacken our diligence in sound-
ing an alarm, and reminding our hearers of their con-
tinual danger.
I am, &c.
LETTER IV.
Dear Sir, January 26, 1775.
X LATELY read a volume of Mr. Baxter's, (in the
fifth volume of the Morning Exercises,) on IMatth.
V. 16. IVIy mind is something impressed with the sub-
ject, and with his manner of treating it. Some of Mr.
Baxter's sentiments in divinity are rather cloudy, and he
sometimes upon that account met with but poor quar-
Let. 4. Letters to the Rev. Mr. P****. 629
ter from the staunch Calvinists of his day. But, by
what I have read of him, where he is quiet, and not
ruffled by controversy, he appears tome, notwithstand-
ing some mistakes, to have been one of the greatest
men of his age, and perhaps in fervour, spirituality,
and success, more than equal, both as a minister and a
Christian, to some twenty, taken together, of those M-ho
affect to undervalue him in this present day. There is
a spirit in some passages of his Saint's Rest, his Dying
Thoughts, and other of his practical treatises, compared
with which, many modern compositions, though well
written and well meant, appear to me to a great dis-
advantage. But I was speaking of his sermon. He
points out the way at which we should aim to let our
light shine in the world, for the glory of God, and the
conviction and edification of men. I have mentioned
where it is to be found, that, if you have the Morning
Exercises, or they should come in your way, you may
look at it. I think you would like it. The perusal
suggested to me some instruction, and much reproof.
Alas ! my friend, are we not too often chargeable with
a sad, shameful selfishness and narrowness of spirit,
far, very far different from that activity, enlargement,
and generosity of soul, which such a Gospel as we have
received might be expected to produce ? For myselfj
I must plead guilty. It seems as if my heart was al-
ways awake, and keenly sensible to my own concern-
ments, while those of my Lord and IMaster affect me
much less forcibly, at least only by intervals. Were
a stranger to judge of me by what I sometimes say in
the pulpit, he might think that, like the angels, I had
but two things in view, to do the will of God, and to
behold his face. But, alas ! would he not be almost
as much mistaken, as if, seeing iVIr. G**** in the cha-
630 Letters to the Rev. Mr. P#***. Let. 4.
racter of a tragedy-hero, he should suppose him to be
the very person M'hom he only represents. I hope
Satan will never be able to persuade me that I am a
onere hypocrite and stage-player ; but sure I am, that
there is so much hypocrisy in me, so many littlenesses
and self-seekings insinuating into my plan of conduct,
that I have humbling cause to account myself unwor-
thy and unprofitable, and to say, " Enter not into
'' judgment with thy servant, O Lord." I have some
tolerable idea of what a Christian ought to be, and it
is, I hope, what I desire to be. A Christian should be
conformable to Christ in his spirit and in his practice ;
that is, he should be spiritually minded, dead to the
world, filled with zeal for the glory of God, the spread
of the Gospel, and the good of souls. He should
be humble, patient, meek, cheerful, thankful under all
events and changes. He should account it the busi-
ness and honour of his life to imitate Him, who pleased
not himself, M'ho went about doing good, and has ex-
pressed to us the very feelings of his heart, in that di-
vine aphorism, which surpasses all the fine admired
sayings of the philosophers, as much as the sun out-
shines a candle, " It is more blessed to give than to
*' receive." The whole deportment of a Christian
should show that the knowledge of Jesus, which he has
received from the Gospel, affords him all he could ex-
pect from it ; a balm for every grief, an amends for
every loss, a motive for every duty, a restraint from
every evil, a pattern for every thing which he is called
to do or suffer, and a principle sufficient to constitute
the actions of every day, even in common life, acts of
religion. He should, (as the children of this world are
wise to do in their generation,) make every occurrence
through which he passes subservient and subordinate
Let. 5. Letters to the Rev. Mr. P****. 631
to his main design. Gold is the worldly man's god,
and his worship and service are uniform and consistent,
not by fits and starts, but, from morning to night, from
the beginning to the end of the year, he is the same
man. He will not slip an opportunity of adding to
his pelf to-day, because he may have another to-
morrow, but he heartily and eagerly embraces both ;
and so far as he carries his point, though his perse-
verance may expose him to the ridicule or reproach of
his neighbours, he thinks himself well paid, and says,
Pojiulus me sibilat ; at mihi filaudo
Jfise domi^ simid niimmos contcmplor in area.
I am, &c.
LETTER V.
Dear Sir, January — 1776.
X. MAY learn, (only I am a sad dunce,) by small and
common incidents, as well as by some more striking
and important turns in life, that it is not in man that
walketh to direct his steps. It is not for me to say,
To-day or to-morrow I will do this or that. I cannot
write aletter to a friend without leave or without help, for
neither opportunity nor ability are at my own disposal.
It is not needful that the Lord should raise a moun-
tain in my way, to stop my purpose ; if he only with-
draw a certain kind of imperceptible support, which in
general I have, and use without duly considering whose
it is ; then, in a moment, I feel myself unstrung and
disabled, like a ship that has lost her masts, and can-
VoL. I. 4 U
632 Letters to thellev. Mr. P****. Let. 5.
not proceed till he is pleased to refit me and renew my
strength. My pride and prosperity to self-dependence
render frequent changes of this kind necessary to me,
or I should soon forget what I am, and sacrifice to my
own drag. Therefore, upon the whole, I am satisfied,
and see it best that I should be absolutely poor and
penniless in myself, and forced to depend upon the
Lord for the smallest things as well as the greatest. —
And if, by this blessing, my experience should at length
tally with my judgment in this point, that without him
I can do nothing ; then I know I shall find it easy,
through him, to do all things ; for the door of his mercy
is always open, and it is but ask and have. But, alas !
a secret persuasion, (though contrary to repeated con-
victions,) that I have something at home, too often pre-
vents me going to him for it, and then no wonder 1 am
disappointed. The life of faith seems so simple and
easy in theory, that I can point it out to others in few
words ; but in practice it is very difficult, and my ad-
vances are so slow, that I hardly dare say I get for-
ward at all. It is a great thing indeed to have the spirit
of a little child, so as to be habitually afraid of taking
a single step without leading.
I have heard of you more than once since I heard
from you, and am glad to know the Lord is still with
you ; I trust he has not withdrawn wholly from us. —
We have much call for thankfulness, and much for hu-
miliation. Some have been removed, some are evi-
dently ripening for glory, and now and then we have a
new inquirer. But the progress of wickedness amongst
the unconverted here is awful. Convictions repeatedly
stified in many, have issued in a hardness and boldness
in sinning, which I believe is seldom found but in those
places where the light of the Gospel has been long re-
Let. 5. Letters to the Rev. Mr. P****. C33
sisted and abused. If my eyes suitably affected my
heart, I should weep day and night upon this account ;
but, alas ! I am too indifferent. I feel a woful defect
in my zeal for God and compassion for souls ; and
when Satan and conscience charge me with cow ardice,
treachery, and stupidity, I know not what to reply. {
am generally carried through my public work with
some liberty, and because I am not put to shame be-
fore the people, I seem content and satisfied. I wish
to be more thankful for what the Lord is pleased to do
amongst us, but, at the same time, to be more earnest
with him, for a further out-pouring of his Spirit. As-
sist me herein with your prayers.
As to my own private experience, the enemy is not
suffered to touch the foundation of my faith and hope ;
thus far I have peace. But my conflicts and exercises,
with the effects of indwelling sin, are very distiessing.
I cannot doubt of my state and acceptance ; and yet it
seems no one can have more cause for doubts and fears
than myself, if such doubtings were at all encouraged
by the Gospel; but I see they are not; I see that
what I want and hope for, the Lord promises to do for
his own name's sake, and with a jwn obstante to all my
vileness and perverseness ; and I cannot question but
he has given me, (for how else could I have it?) a thirst
for that communion with him in love and conformity to
his image, of which, as yet, I have experienced but very
faint and imperfect beginnings. But if he has begun, I
venture, upon his word, that he will not forsake the work
of his own hands.
On public affairs I say but little. Many are cen-
suring men and measures ; but I would lay all the
blame upon sin. It appears plain to me that the Lord
has a controversy with us ; and therefore I fear what
634! Letters to the Rev. Mr. P*=^=**. Let. 6*
we have yet seen is but the beginning of sorrows. I
am ready to dread the event of this summer ; but I
remember the Lord reigns. He has his o\su glory and
the good of his church in view, and will not be dis-
appointed. He knows how likewise to take care of
those who fear him. I wish there was more sighing
and mourning amongst professors, for the sins of the
nation and the churches. But I must conclude, and
am, &ic.
N<
LETTER VI.
Dear Sir,
O very considerable alteration has taken place since
I wrote, except the death of Mrs. L**''**', who was re-
moved to a better world in September last. The latter
part of her course was very painful ; but the Lord made
her more than conqueror, and she had good cause to
apply the apostle's words, 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8. She re-
peated that passage in her last illness, and chose it for
her funeral text. She was a Christian indeed. Her
faith was great, and so were her trials. Now she is
above them all, now she is before the throne. The
good Lord help us to be followers of those who through
faith and patience have attained to the hope set before
them.
The number of professors still increases with us, and
a greater number of persons affords a greater variety
of cases, and gives greater scope to observe the work-
ings of the heart and Satan. For seven years I had
to say, that I had not seen a person of Mhom I had
conceived a good hope, go back ; but I have met with a
few disappointments since. However, upon the whole,
Let. G Letters to the Rev. Mr. P****. 635
I trust the Lord is still with us. The enemy tries to
disturb and defile us, and if the Lord did not keep the
city, the poor watchman would wake in vain. But the
eye that never slumbereth nor sleepeth has been upon
us for good ; and though we have cause of humiliation
and complaint, we have likewise much cause of thank-
fulness. My health is still preserved; and I hope that
the Lord does not suffer my desires of personal com-
munion with him, and of usefulness in the ministry, to
decline. He supplies me with fresh strength and mat-
ter in my public work : I hear now and then of one
brought to inquire the way; and his presence is at times
made known to many in the ordinances.
To combine zeal with prudence is indeed difficult.
There is often too much self in our zeal, and too much
of the fear of man in our prudence. However, what
we cannot attain by any skill or resolution of our own,
we may hope in measure to receive from him who givetii
liberally to those who seek him, and desire to serve
him. Prudence is a word much abused ; but there is
a heavenly wisdom, which the Lord has promised to
give to those who humbly wait upon him for it. It
does not consist in forming a bundle of rules and
maxims, but in a spiritual taste and discernment de-
rived from an experimental knowledge of the truth, and
of the heart of man^ as described in the word of God ;
and its exercise consists much in a simple dependence
upon the Lord, to guide and prompt us in every
action. We seldom act wrong, when we truly depend
upon him, and can cease from leaning to our own
understandino;. When the heart is thus in a right tune
and frame, and his word dwells richly in us, there is a
kind of immediate perception of what is proper for us
to do in present circumstances, without much painful
63G Letters to the Rev. Mr. P*#**. Let. 7.
inquiry; a light shines before us upon the path of duty;
and if he permits us in such a spirit to make some mis-
takes, he will likewise teach us to profit by them ; and
our reflections upon what was wrong one day, will
make uS to act more wisely the next. At the best, we
must always expect to meet with new proofs of our
own weakness and insufficiency; otherwise, how should
"we be kept humble, or know how to prize the liberty-
he allows us of coming to the throne of grace, for fresh
forgiveness and direction every day ? But if he enables
us to walk before him with a single eye, he will gra-
ciously accept our desire of serving him better if we
could, and his blessing will make our feeble endeavours
in some degree successful, at the same time that we see
defects and evils attending our best services sufficient to
make us ashamed of them.
I am, &c.
LETTER VII.
Dear Sir, January 11, 1777;
VV E all need, and at the seasons the Lord sees best
we all receive, chastisement. I hope you likewise have
reason to praise him, for supporting, sanctifying, and
delivering mercy. The coward flesh presently shrinks un-
der the rod, but faith need not fear it; for it is in the hand
of one who loves us better than we do ourselves, and
who knows our frame that wc are but dust, and there-
fore will not suffer us to be overdone and overwhelmed.
I feel as a friend should feel for Mr. B**** ; were
I able, I would soon send him health. If the Lord,
who is able to remove his illness in a minute, permits
it to continue, wq may be sure, upon the whole, it will
Let. 7. Letters to tlie Rev. Mr. P****. 637
be better for him. It is, however, very lawful to pray
that his health may be restored, and his usefulness pro-
longed. I beg you to give my love to him, and tell him
that my heart bears him an affectionate remembrance";
and I know the God whom he serves will make every
dispensation supportable and profitable to him.
If, as you observe, the Song of Solomon describes
the experience of his church, it shows the dark as well
as the bright side. No one part of it is the experience
of every individual at any particular time. Some are in
his banqueting-house, others upon their beds. Some sit
under his banner, supported by his arm ; while others
have a faint perception of him at a distance, with many
a hill and mountain between. In one thing, however,
they all agree, that he is the leading object of their de-
sires, and that they have had such a discovery of his
person, work, and love, as makes him precious to their
hearts. Their judgment of him is always the same,
but their sensibility varies. The love they bear him,
though rooted and grounded in their hearts, is not al-
ways equally in exercise, nor can it be so. We are
like trees, which though alive, cannot put forth their
leaves and fruit without the influence of the sun. They
are alive in winter as well as in summer; but how differ-
ent is their appearance in these different seasons ! Were
■we always alike, could we always believe, love, and re-
joice, we should think the power inherent, and our own ;
but it is more for the Lord's glory, and more suited to
form us to a temper becoming the Gospel, that we should
]3e made deeply sensible of our own inability and de-
pendence, than that we should be always m a lively
frame. I am persuaded a broken and a contrite spirit,
a conviction of our vileness and nothingness, connected
with a cordial acceptance of Jesus as revealed in the
638 Letters to the Rev. i^Tr. P****. Let. 7.
Gospel, is the highest attainment we can reach in this
life. Sensible comforts are desirable, and we must be
sadly declined when they do not appear so to us ; but I
believe there may be a real exercise of faith and growth
in grace, when our sensible feelings are faint and low.
A soul may be in as thriving a state w hen thirsting,
seeking, and mourning after the Lord, as when actually
rejoicing in him, as much in earnest when fighting ia
the valley, as when singing upon the mount ; nay, dark
seasons afford the surest and strongest manifestations of
the power of faith. To hold fast the word of promise,
to maintain a hatred of sin, to go on steadfastly in the
path of duty, in defiance both of the frowns and the
smiles of the world, when we have but little comfort,
is a more certain evidence of grace, than a thousand
things which we ma}' do or forbear when our spirits are
warm and lively. I have seen many who have been,
upon the whole, but uneven walkers, though at times they
have seemed to enjoy, at least have talked of great com-
forts. I have seen others, for the most part, complain
of much darkness and coldness, who have been remark-
ably humble, tender, and exemplary in their spirit and
conduct. Surely, were I to choose my lot, it should be
with the latter.
I am, &c.
TIIFvEE LETTERS
TO
Mrs. G****.
LETTER I.
Madam, June 20, 1776'.
It would be both unkind and ungrateful in me, to avail
myself on any plea of business, for delayingthe acknow-
ledgment I owe you for your acceptable favour from
****, which, though dated the 6th instant, I did not
receive till the 10th.
Could I have known in time that you was at Mr.,
****'s, I should have endeavoured to have called upon,
you while there ; and very glad should I have been to
have seen you with us. But they who fear the Lord
may be sure, that whatever is not practicable is not ne-
cessary. He could have over-ruled every difficulty in
your way, had he seen it expedient; but he is pleased
to show you, that you depend not upon men, but upon
himself; and that, notvvithstandino; your connexions
may exclude you from some advantages in point of
outward means, he who has begun a good work in
you, is able to carry it on, in defiance of all seeming
hindrances, and make all things, (even those which have
the most unfavourable appearances,) work together for
your good.
A sure effect of hi§ grace, is a desire and Ionising for
Vol. I. 4 N
640 Letters to Mrs. G^****. Let. 1
Gospel-ordinances ; and when they are afforded, they
cannot be neo;lected without loss. But the Lord sees
many souls who are dear to him, and whom he is train-
ing up in a <jrowing meetness for his kingdom, who are
by his providence so situated, that it is not in their
power to attend upon Gospel preaching; and perhaps
they have seldom either Christian minister or Christian
friend to assist or comfort them. Such a situation is
a state of trial ; but Jesus is all-sufficient, and he is
always near. They connot be debarred from his word
of grace ; which is every where at hand, nor from his
throne of grace, for they who feel their need of him,
and whose hearts are drawn towards him, are always
at the foot of it. Every room in the house, yea, every
spot they stand on, fields, lanes, and hedge-rows, all
is holy ground to them ; for the Lord is there. The
chief difference between us and the disciples, when our
Saviour was upon earth, is in this : they then walked.
by sight, and we are called to walk by faith. They
could see him with their bodily eyes, we cannot ; but
he said before he left them, " It is expedient for you
" that I go away." How could this be, unless that
spiritual communion which he promised to maintain
with his people after his ascension, were preferable to
that intercourse he allowed them whilst he was visibly
with them ? But we are sure it is preferable, and they
who had tried both were well satisfied he had made
good his promise ; so that, though they had known him
after the flesh, they were content not to know him so
any more. Yes, madam, though we cannot see him,
he sees us, he is nearer to us than we are to ourselves.
In a natural state, we have very dark, and indeed dis-
honourable thoughts of God; wc ccnceive of him as
Let. 1. Letters to Mrs. 6'****. 641
at a distance. But when the heart is awakened, we
begin to make Jacob's reflection, " Surely, the Lord is
" in this place, and I knew it not." And when we
receive faith, we begin to know that this ever-present
God is in Christ ; that the government of heaven and
earth, the dispensations of the kingdom of nature, pro-
vidence, and grace, are in the hands of Jesus ; that it
is he with whom v*e have to do, who once suflfered
agony and death for our redemption, and whose com-
passion and tenderness arc the same, now he reigns
over all blessed for ever, as when he conversed amongst
men in the days of his humiliation. Thus God is made
known to us by the Gospel, in the endearing views of
a Saviour, a Shepherd, a Husband, a Friend ; and a
way of access is opened for us through the veil, that
is, the human nature of our Redeemer, to enter, with
humble confidence, into the holiest of all, and to re-
pose all our cares and concerns upon the strength of
that everlasting arm which upholds heaven and earth,
and upon that infinite love which submitted to the
shame, pain, and death of the cross, to redeem sinners
from wrath and miser3^
Though there is a height, a breadth, a length, and a
depth, in this mystery of redeeming love, exceeding the
comprehension of all finite minds ; yet the great and
leading principles which are necessary for the support
and comfort of our souls, may be summed up in a very
few words. Such a summary we -are favoured with in
Titus ii. 11 — 14. where the whole of salvation, all that
is needful to be known, experienced, practised, and
hoped for, is comprised within the compass of four
verses. If many books, much study, and great dis-
cernment, were necessary in order to be happy, what
(Ha Letters to Mrs. C****. Let. 1,
must the poor and simple do ? Yet for them espe-
cially is the Gospel designed; and few but such as
these attain the knowledge and comfort of it. The
Bible is a sealed book till the heart be awakened, and
then he that runs may read. The propositions are
few ; I am a sinner, therefore I need a Saviour, one
ivho is able and willino; to save to the uttermost ; such
a one is Jesus ; he is ail that I want, wisdom, righ-
teousness, sanctification, and redemption. But will
he receive me? Can I answer a previous question?
Am I willing to receive him ? If so, and if his word
may be taken, if he meant what he said, and promised
no more than he can perform, I may be sure of a wel-
come : he knew long before, the doubts, fears, and sus-
picions which would arise in my mind when I should
come to know what I am, what I have done, and what
I have deserved ; and therefore he declared, before he
left the earth, '' Him that cometh to me, I will in no-
*' wise cast out." I have no money or price in my
hand, no worthiness to recommend me ; and I need
none, for he saveth freely for his own name's sake. I
have only to be thankful for w hat he has already shown
me, and to wait upon him for more. It is my part to
commit myself to him as the physician of sin-sick
souls, not to prescribe to him how he shall treat me.
To begin, carry on, and perfect the cure, is his part.
The doubts and fears you speak of, are in a greater
or less degree, the common experience of all the Lord's
people, at least for a time ; whilst any unbelief remains
in the heart, and Satan is permitted to tempt, we shall
feel these things. In themselves they are groundless
and evil ; yet the Lord permits and over-rules them
for good. They tend to make us know more of the
Let. 2. Letters to Mrs. (?****'. 64(3
plague of our own hearts, and feel more sensibly the
need of a Saviour, and make his rest, (when we attaia
it,) doubly sweet and sure. And they likewise qualify
us for pitying and comforting others. Fear not ; only
believe, wait, and pray. Expect not all at once. A
Christian is not of hasty growth, like a mushroom, but
rather like the oak, the progress of which is hardly
perceptible, but in time becomes a great deep-rooted
tree. If my writings have been useful to you, may the
Lord have the praise. To administer any comfort to
his children is the greatest honour and pleasure 1 can
receive in this life. I cannot promise to be a very
punctual correspondent, having many engagements ;
but I hope to do all in my power to show myself
madam.
Yours, &c.
LETTER II.
Madam, August 20, 1776.
T]
HOUGH in general I think myself tolerably punc-
tual when I can answer a letter in six or seven weeks
after the receipt, yet I feel some pain for not having
acknowledged yours sooner. A case like that which
you have favour<3d me with an account of, deserved an
'immediate attention, and when I read it, I proposed
writing within a post or two, and I can hardly allow
any plea of business to be sufficient excuse for delay-
ing it so long ; but our times are in the Lord's hands :
may he now enable me to send you what may prove a
word in season.
644 Letters to Mrs. G^^*^. Let. S.
Your exercises have been by no means singular,
though they may appear so to yourself; because, in
your retired situation, you have not, (as you observe,)
had much opportunity of knowing the experience of
other Christians ; nor has the guilt with which your
mind has been so greatly burdened been properly your
own. It was a temptation forced upon you by the
enemy, and he shall answer for it. Undoubtedly it is
a mournful proof of the depravity of our nature, that
there is that within us which renders us so easily suscep-
tive of his suggestions ; a proof of our extreme weak-
ness, that after the clearest and most satisfying evidences
of the truth, we are not able to hold fast our confi-
dence, if the Lord permits Satan to sift and shake us.
But I can assure you these changes are not uncommon.
I have known persons, who, after walking M-ith God
comfortably in the main for forty years, have been at
their wit's end from such assaults as you mention, and
been brought to doubt, not only of the reality of their
own hopes, but of the very ground and foundation
upon which their hopes ^vere built. Had you re-
mained, as it seems you once were, attached to the
vanities of a gay and dissipated life, or could you have
been content with a form of godliness, destitute of the
power, it is probable you would have remained a
stranger to these troubles. Satan would have em-
ployed his arts in a different and less perceptible way,
to have soothed you into a false peace, and prevented
any thought or suspicion of danger from arising in your
mind. But when he could no longer detain you in his
bondage, or seduce you back again into the world, then
of course he w ould clianue his method, and declare
open war agaiubt you. A specimen of his power and
Let. 2. letters to Mrs. 6^****. G45
malice you have experienced; and the Lord, whom you
loved, because he first loved you, permitted it, not to
gratify Satan, but for your benefit — to humble and
prove vou, to show you m hat is in your heart, and to
do you good in the issue. These things, for the pre-
sent, are not joyous, but grievous ; yet in the end they
yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness. In the
mean time his eye is upon you ; he has appointed
bounds both to the degree and the duration of the
trial ; and he does and will afford you such supports,
that you shall not be tried beyond what you are en-
abled to bear. I doubt not but your conflicts and
sorrows will in due time terminate in praise and vic-
tory, and be sanctified io your fuller establishment in
the truth.
I greatlv rejoice in the Lord's goodness to your
dying parent. How wisely timed, and how exactly
suited, was that affecting dispensation, to break the
force of those sugsestions with which the enemv was
aiming to overwhelm your spirit ! He could not stand
against such an illustrious demonstrative attestation,
that the doctrines you had embraced were not cun-
ningly devised fables. He could proceed no further in
that way; but he is fruitful in resources. His next
attempt, of course, was to fix guilt upon your con-
science, as if you had 3'ourself formed and willingly en-
tertained those thoughts, which, indeed you suffered
with extreme reluctance and pain. Here likewise I
find he succeeded for a time ; but he who broke the
former snare, will deliver you from this likewise.
The dark and dishonourable thoughts of God, which
I hinted at as belonging to a natural state, are very dif-
ferent from the thoughts of your heart concerning him.
You do not conceive of him as a hard master, or
646 Letters to Mrs. G^*#*#. Let. g,
think you could be more happy in the breach than in
the observance of his precepts. You do not prefer the
world to his favour, or think you can please him, and
make amends for your sins by an obedience of your
Own. These, and such as these, are the thoughts of
the natural heart ; the very reverse of yours. One
thought, however, I confess you have indulged, which
is no less dishonourable to the Lord than uncomfort-
able to yourself. You sa}^, " I dare not believe that
" God will not impute to me as sin, the admission of
*' thoughts which my soul ever abhorred, and to which
*' my will never consented." Nay, you fear lest they
should not only be imputed, but unpardonable. But
how can this be possible ? Indeed I will not call it
your thought^ it is your temptation. You tell me you
have children. Then you will easily feel a plain illus-
tration, which just noM" occurs to me. Let me sup-
pose a case which has sometimes happened : a child,
three or fours years of age we will say, while playing
incautiously at a little distance from home, should be
suddenly seized and carried away by a gipsy. Poor
thincT ! how terrified, how distressed must it be ! ]\Ie-
thinks I hear its cries. The sight and violence of the
stranger, the recollection of its dear parents, the loss
of its pleasing home, the dread and uncertainty of
-what is yet to befall it ; is it not a wonder that it
does not die in agonies r But see, help is at hand ;
the gipsy is pursued, and the child recovered. Now,
my dear madam, permit me to ask you, if this were your
child, how would you receive it? Perhaps, when the
first transports of your joy for its safety would permit
you, you might gently chide it for leaving your door ;
but would you disinherit it ? Would you disown it .'
Would you deliver it up again to the gipsy with your
Let. 2. Letters to Mrs. G^****. 647
own hands, because it had suffered a violence which
it could not withstand, xvh'ich it abhorred, and to which
its will never consented? And yet what is the tender-
ness of a mother, of ten thousand mothers, to that
which our compassionate Saviour bears to every poor
soul that has been enabled to flee to him for salvation .!
Let us be far from charging that to him, of which we
think we are utterly incapable ourselves. Take cour-
age, madam, resist the devil, and he will flee from you.
If he were to tempt you to, any thing criminal, you
\vould start at the thought, and renounce it with ab-
horrence. Do the same when he tempts you to ques-
tion the Lord's compassion and goodness. But there
he imposes upon us with a show of humility, and per-
suades us that we do well to oppose our unworthiness
as a sufficient exception to tlie many express promises
of the word. It is said, the blood of Jesus cleanseth
from all sin : that all manner of sin shall be forgiven
for his sake ; that whoever cometh he will in nowise
cast out ; and that he is able to save to the uttermost.
Believe his word, and Satan shall be found a liar. If
the child had deliberately gone away with the gipsy ;
had preferred that wretched way of life; had refused to
return, though frequently and tenderly invited home,
perhaps a parent's love miglit, in time, be too weak to
plead for the pardon of such continued obstinacy.
But, indeed, in this manner we have all dealt with the
Lord ; and yet, whenever we are willing to return, he
is willing to receive us with open arms, and without
an upbraiding word ; Luke xv. 20 — 22. Though our
sins have been deep-dyed, like scarlet and crimson,
enormous as mountains, and countless as the sands, the
sum total is, but. Sin has abounded ; but where sin hath
Vol. T, 4 O
Letters to Mrs. 6=**-**. Let. 3.
abounded, grace has much more abounded. After all,
I know the Lord keeps the key of comfort in his o\mi
hands, yet he has commanded us to attempt comfort-
ing one another. I should rejoice to be his instrument
of administering comfort to you. I shall hope to hear
from you soon ; and that you will then be able to in-
form me he has restored to you the joys of his salva-
tion. But if not yet, wait for him, and you shall not
wait in vain.
I am, &c.
LETTER III.
My Dear Madam, June-— 1777-
Jl EMPTATIONS may be compared to the wind, which
when it has ceased raging from one point, after a short
calm, frequently renews its violence from another quar-
ter. The Lord silenced Satan's former assaults against
you, but he is permitted to try you again in another
way. Be of good courage, madam, wait upon the
Lord, and the present storm shall likewise subside in
good time. You have an infallible Pilot, and are em-
barked in a bottom against which the winds and waves
cannot prevail. You may be tossed about, and think
yourself in apparent jeopardy, but sink 3'ou shall not,
except the promises and faithfulness of God can fail.
Upon an attentive consideration of your complaint, it
seems to me to amount only to this, that though the
Lord has done great things for you, he has not yet
brought you to a state of independence on himself, nor
released you from that impossibility which all his peo-
Let. 3. Letters to Mrs, G^****. 64§
pie feel, of doing any thing without him. And is this,
indeed, a matterof complaint ? Is it not every way
better, more for his glory, and more suited to keep us
mindful of our obligations to him, and, in the event,
more for our safety, that we should be reduced to a
happy necessity of receiving daily out of his fulness,
(as the Israelites received the manna,) than to be set
up w ith something of a stock of wisdom, pow er, and
goodness of our own ? Adam was thus furnished at
the beginning with strength to stand ; yet mutability
being essential to a creature, he quickly fell and lost,
all. We v»ho are by nature sinners, are not left to so
hazardous an experiment. He has himself engaged to
keep us, and treasured up all fulness of grace for our
support, in a head who cannot fail. Our gracious Sa-
viour will communicate all needful supplies to his mem-
bers, yet in such a manner that they sliall feel their
need and weakness, and have nothing to boast of from
first to last but his wisdom, compassion, and care.
We are in no worse circumstances than the apostle
Paul, who, though eminent and exemplary in the
Christian life, found and freely confessed that he had
no sufficiency in himself to think a good thought.
Nor did he wish it otherwise ; he even gloried in his
infirmities, that the power of Christ might rest upon
him. Unbelief, and a thousand evils, are still in our
hearts ; though their reign and dominion is at an end,
they are not slain nor eradicated ; their effects will be
felt more or less sensibly, as the Lord is pleased more
or less to afford or abate his gracious influence. When
they are kept down we are no better in ourselves, for
they are not kept down by us ; but we are very prone
to think better of ourselves at such a time, and there-
650 Letters to Mrs. G*****. Let. S.
fore he is pleased to permit us at seasons to feel a dif-
ference, that we may never forget how weak and how
vile we are. We cannot absolutely conquer these
evils, but it becomes us to be humbled for them ; and
we are to fight, and strive, and pray against them.
Our great duty is to be at his footstool, and cry to
him who has promised to perform all things for us.
Why are we called soldiers, but because we are called
to a warfare ? And how could we fight, if there were no
enemies to resist r The Lord's soldiers are not merely
for show, to make an empty parade in an uniform, and
to brandish their arms when none but friends and spec-
tators are around them. No, we must stand upon the
field of battle; we must face the fiery darts; we must
wrestle, (which is the closest and most arduous kind of
fighting,) with our foes; nor can we well expect wholly
to escape wounds ; but the leaves of the tree of life
are provided for their healing. The Captain of our
salvation is at hand, and leads us on with an assurance
which might make even a coward bold — that, in the end,
we shall be more than conquerors through him who
has loved us.
I am ready to think that some of the sentiments in
your letters are not properly yours, such as you
yourself have derived from the Scriptures, but rather
borrowed irom authors or preachers, whose judg-
ment your humility has led you to prefer to your
own. At least, 1 am sure the Scripture does not au-
thorize the conclusion which distresses you ; that if you
were a child of God you should not feel such changes
and oppositions. Were I to define a Christian, or
rather to describe him at large, I know no text I would
choose sooner as a ground for the subject, than GaL
Let. 3. Letters to Mrs. G*'^-*-^. 561
V. 17. A Christian has noble aims, which distinguish
him from the bulk of mankind. His leading principles,
motives, and desires, are all supernatural and divine.
Could he do as he would, there is not a spirit before
the throne should excel him in holiness, love, and obe-
dience. He would tread in the very footsteps of his
Saviour, fill up every moment in his service, and em-
ploy every breath in his praise. Thi^ he would do,
but, alas ! he cannot. Against this desire of the spirit,
there is a contrary desire and w-orking of a corrupt na-
ture, which meets him at every turn. He has a beau-
tiful copy set before him ; he is enamoured with it,
and though he does not expect to equal it, he writes
carefully after it, and longs to attain to the nearest
possible imitation. But indwelling sin and Satan con-
tinually jog his hand, and spoil his strokes. You can-
not, Madam, form a right judgment of yourself, ex-
cept you make due allowance for those things which
are not peculiar to yourself, but common to all who
have spiritual perception, and are indeed the insepara-
ble appendages of this mortal state. If it were not
so, why should the most spiritual and gracious people
be so ready to confess themselves vile and worthless ?
One eminent branch of our holiness, is a sense of
shame and humiliation for those evils which are only
known to ourselves, and to him who searches our
hearts, joined with an acquiescence in Jesus, who is
appointed of God, wisdom, righteousness, sanctifica-
tion, and redemption. I will venture to assure you,
that though you will possess a more stable peace, in
proportion as the Lord enables you to live more simply
upon the blood, righteousness, and grace of the IMedia-
tor, you will never grow into a better opinion of your '
6oS Letters to Mrs. G****. Let. o.
self than you have at present. The nearer you are
brought to him, the quicker sense you will have of your
continual need of him, and thereby your admiration of
his power, love, and compassion, will increase likewise
from year to year.
I would observe further, that our spiritual exercises
are not a little influenced by our constitutional tem-
perament. As you are only an ideal correspondent,
I can but conjecture about you upon this head. If
your frame is delicate, and your nervous system very
sensible and tender, I should probably ascribe some
of your apprehensions to this cause. It is an abstruse
subject, and I will not enter into it; but, according to
the observations I have made, persons of this habit,
seem to live more upon the confines of the invisible
world, if I may so speak, and to be more suspective
of impressions from it, than others. That complaint
which, for want of a better name, we call lowness of
spirits, may probably afford the enemy some peculiar
advantages and occasions of distressing you. The
mind then perceives objects as through a tinctured me-
dium, which gives them a dark and discouraging ap-
pearance ; and I believe Satan has more influence and
address, than we are aware of, in managing the glass.
And when this is not the case at all times, it may be
so occnsionally, from sickness or other circumstances.
Vou tell mc that you have lately been ill, which, to-
gether v.'ith your present situation, and the prospect of
your approaching hour, may probably have such an
effect as I have hinted. You may be charging your-
self with guilt, for what springs from indisposition, in
which you are merely passive, and which may be no
more properly sinful^ than the bead-ache, or any of
Let. 3. Letters to Mrs. G^****. 65S
the thousand natural shocks the flesh is heir to. The
enemy can take no advantage but what the Lord per-
mits him ; and he will permit him none but w hat he
designs to over-nde for your greater advantage in the
end. He delis^hts in your prosperity ; and you should
not be in heaviness fur an hour, were there not a need-
be for it. Notwithstanding your fears, I have a good
hope, that he who }ou say has lielped you in six trou-
bles, will appear for you in the seventh ; that you will
not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord,
and come forth to testify to his praise that he has turn-
ed vour niournin*; into jov.
I am. Sec.
TWO LETTERS
TO
Miss F****.
LETTER I.
Dear Madam, October 3, 1778.
X OU would have me tell you what are the best means
to be used by a young person, to prevent the world,
•with all its opening and ensnaring scenes, from drawinc^
the heart aside from God. It is an important ques-
tion ; but I apprehend your own heart will tell you,
that you are already possessed of all the information
concerning it which you can well expect from me. I
could only attempt to answer it from the Bible, which
lies open to you likewise. If 3'our heart is like mine,
it must confess, that when it turns aside from God, it is
seldom through ignorance of the proper means or mo-
tives which should have kept us near him, but rather
from an evil principle within, which prevails against our
better judgment, and renders us unfaithful to light al-
ready received.
I could offer you rules, cautions, and advices in
abundance; for I find it comparatively easy to preach
to others. But if you should further ask me. How you
shall effectually reduce them to practice ? I feel that
I am so deficient, and so much at a loss in this matter
myse/f, that I know not well what to say to 2/011. Yet
something must be said.
In the first place, then, I would observe, that though
Let. 1. Letters to Miss F**^^. 655
it be our bounden duty, and the highest privilege we
can propose to ourselves, to have our hearts kept close
to the Lord ; yet we must not expect it absolutely or
perfectly, much less all at once : we shall keep close
to him, in proportion as we are solidly convinced of the
infinite disparity between him and the things which
would presume to stand in competition with him, and
the folly, as well as ingratitude, of departing from him.
But these points are only to be learned by experience,
and by smarting under a series of painful disappoint-
ments in our expectations from creatures. Our judg-
ments may l)e quickly satisfied that his favour is better
than life, while yet it is in the power of a mere trifle to
turn us aside. The Lord permits us to feel our weak-
ness, that we may be sensible of it ; for though we are
ready in words to confess that we are weak, we do not
so properly know it, till that secret, though unallowed,
dependeix;e we have upon some strength in ourselves,
is brought to the trial, and fails us. To be humble, and
like a little child, afraid of taking a step alone, and so
conscious of snares and dangers around us, as to cry to
him continually to hold us up that we may be safe, is
the sure, the infallible, the only secret of walking close-
ly with him.
But how shall we attain this humble frame of spirit?
It must be, as I said, from a real and sensible convic-
tion of our weakness and vileness, which we cannot
learn, (at least I have not been able to learn it,) merely
from books or preachers. The providence of God
concurs with his Holy Spirit in his merciful design of
making us acquainted with ourselves. It is indeed a
great mercy to he preserved from such declensions as
might fall under the notice of our fellow-creatures ; but
when thei/ can observe nothing of consequence to ob-
Vol. I. 4 P
65G Lctttrs to Miss F****, X<et. 1.
ject to us, things may be far from right with us in the
sight of him who judgels not only actions, but the
thoughts and first motions of the heart. And indeed
could we for a season so cleave to God as to find little
or nothing in ourselves to be ashamed of, we are such
poor creatures, that we should presently grow vain and
self-sufilicient, and expose ourselves to the greatest
danger of falling.
There are, however, means to be observed on our
part ; and though you know them, I will repeat the
principal, because you desire me. The first is Prayer ;
and here, above all things, we should pray for humility.
It may be called both the guard of all other graces, and
the soil in which they grow. The second, Attention to
the Scripture. Your question is directly answered in
psalm cxix. 9- The precepts are our rule and delight,
the promises our strength and encouragement : the
good recorded of the saints is proposed for our en-
couragement ; their miscarriages are as land-marks set
up to warn us of the rocks and shoals which lie in the
way of our passage. The study of the whole scheme
of Gospel-salvation, respecting the person, life, doc-
trine, death, and glory of our Redeemer, is appointed
to form our souls to a spiritual and divine taste ; and so
far as this prevails and grows in us, the trifles that
would draw us from the Lord, Avill lose their influence,
and appear, divested of the glare with which they strike
the senses, mere vanity and nothing. The third grand
means is, Consideration or Recollection ; a careful re-
gard to those temptations and snares, to which, from
our tempers, situations, or connexions, we are more
iuimediately exposed, and by which we have been for-
merly hindered. It may be well in the morning, ere
Vvc leave our chambers, to forecast, as far as we arc
Let. 2. Letters toMhs F^^'^^. 657
able, the probable circumstances of the day before us.
Yet the observance of this, as well as of every rule that
can be offered, may dwindle into a mere form. How-
ever, I trust the Lord, who has given you a desire to
live to him, w ill be your guard and teacher. There is
none teacheth like him.
I am, &c.
O
LETTER 11.
Dear Madan>, March — 1779.
UR experiences pretty much tally ; they may be
drawn out into sheets and quires, but the sum total may
be comprised in a short sentence, " Our life is a war-
" fare." For our encouragement, the apostle calls it a
good warfare. We are engaged in a good cause, fight
under a good Captain, the victory is sure beforehand,
and the prize is a crown, a crown of life. Such con-
siderations might make even a coward bold. But then
we must be content to fight ; and, considering the na-
ture, number, situation, and subtilty of our enemies, we
may expert sometimes to receive a wound : but there
is a medicinal tree, the leaves of which are always at
hand to heal us. We cannot be too attentive to the
evil which is ahvays working in us, or to the stratagems
which are employed against us; yet our attention should
not be wholly confined to these things. We are to look
upwards likewise to him, who is our head, our life, our
strength. One glance of Jesus will convey more efFecn
tual assistance, than poring upon our own hearts for a
month. The one is to be done, but the other should,
upon no account, be omitted. It was not by counting
their wounds, but by beholding the brazen serpent, the
658 Letters to Miss F*^**. Let. 2.
Lord's instituted means of cui^, that the Israelites were
healed. That was an emblem for our instruction.
One great cause of our frequent conflicts is, that we
have a secret desire to be rich, and it is the Lord's de-
sign to make us poor : we want to gain an ability of
doing something ; and he suits his dispensations, to con-
vince us that we can do notiiing : we want a stock in
ourselves, and he would have us absolutely dependent
upon him. So far as we are content to be weak, that
his power may be magnified in us, so far we shall make
our enemies know that Ave are strong, though we our-
selves shall never be directly sensible that we are so;
only by comparing what we are, with the opposition we
stand against, we may come to a comfortable conclu-
sion, that the Lord worketh mightily in us. Psalm
xli. 11.
If our views are simple, and our desires towards the
Lord, it may be of use to consider some of your faults
and mine, not as the faults of you and me in particular,
but as the fault of that depraved nature, which is com-
mon with us to all the Lord's people, and which made
Paul groan as feelingly and as heartily as we can do.
But this consideration, though true and Scriptural, can
only be safely applied when the mind is sincerely and
in good earnest devoted to the Lord. There are too
many unsound and half professors, who ea-erly catch
at it, as an excuse for those evils they are unwilling to
part with. But I trust I may safely recommend it to
you. This evil nature, this indwelling sin, is a living
principle, an active, powerful cause ; and a cause that
is active, Mill necessarily produce an effect. Sin is the
same thing in believers, as in the unregenerate ; they
have, indeed, a contrary principle of grace, which coun-
teracts and resists it, which can prevent its outbreak-
#-
Let. 2 Letters to Miss F****. C59
ings, but will not suppress its risings. As grace resists
sin, so sin resists grace, Gal. v. 17. The proper ten-
dency of each is mutually weakened on both sides ; and
between the two, the poor believer, however blameless
and exemplary in the sight of men, appears in his own
view the most inconsistent character under the sun.
He can hardly think it is so with others, and judging of
them by what he sees, and of himself by what hejeels,
in lowliness of heart he esteems others better than him-
self. This proves him to be right ; for it is the will of
God concerning him, Phil. ii. 3. This is the warfare.
But it shall not be always so. Grace shall prevail.
The evil nature is already enervated, and ere long it
shall die the death. Jesus will make us more than
conquerors.
I am, &c.
'FOUR LETTERS
TO THE
Rev. Dr. ****.
LETTER I.
Dear Sir, April 17, 1776.
^Y this time I hope you are both returned in peace,
and happy together in your stated favoured tract; rejoic-
ing in the name of Jesus yourselves, and rejoicing to see
the savour of it spreading Hke a precious perfume among
the people. Every day I hope you find prejudices wear-
ing off, and more disposed to hear the words of life.
The Lord has given you a fine first-fruits, which I trust
will prove the earnest of a plentiful harvest. In the mean
time he will enable you to sow the seed in patience, leav-
ing the event in his hands. Though it does not spring up
visibly at once, it will not be lost. I think he would not
have sent you if he had not a people there to call ; but
they can only come forth to view as he is pleased to bring
them. Satan will try to hinder and disturb you ; but he
is in a chain which he cannot break, nor go a step further
than he is permitted. And if you have been instrumental
to the conversion of but a few, in those few you have an
ample reward already for all the difficulties you have or
can meet with. It is more honourable and important to
be an instrument of saving one soul, than to rescue a whole
kingdom fivm temporal ruin. Let us, therefore, while
we earnestly desire to be more useful, not forget to be
thankful for what the Lord has been pleased already to
Let. 2. Letters to the Rev. Dr. ****. 661
do for us ; and let us expect, knowing whose servants
we are, and what a Gospel we preach, to see some new
miracles wrought from day to day : for indeed every real
conversion may be accounted miraculous, being no less
than an immediate exertion of that power which made
the heavens, and commanded the light to shine out of
darkness. Your little telescope is safe. I wish I had
more of that clear air and sunshine you speak of, that
with you I might have more distinct views of the land of
promise. I cannot say my prospect is greatly clouded
by doubts of my reaching it at last ; but then there is
such a languor and deadness hangs upon my mind, that
it is almost amazing to me how I can entertain any hopes
at all. It seems, if doubting could ever be reasonable,
there is no one who has greater reason for doubting than
myself. But I know not how to doubt, when I consider
the faithfulness, grace, and compassion of him who
has promised. If it could be proved that Christ had
not died, or that he did not speak the words which are
ascribed to him in the Gospel, or that he is not able to
make them good, or that his word cannot safely be ta-
ken ; in any of these cases I should doubt to purpose,
and lie down in despair,
I am, &c.
I
LETTER n.
My Dear Sir, July 15, 177/
BEGIN with congratulations first to you and Mrs.
****, on your safe journey and good passage over the
formidable Humber. Mrs. **** has another river to
cross, (may it be many years before she approaches the
bank,) over which there is no bridge. Perhaps at seasons
605 Letters to the Rev. Dr. ****. Let. 2.
she may think of it with that reluctance which she felt
before she saw the Humber; but as her fears were then
agreeably disappointed, and she found the experiment,
when called to make it, neither terrifying nor dangerous,
so I trust she will find it in the other case. Did not
she think, The Lord knows where I shall be, and he will
meet me there with a storm, because I am such a sinner?
Then how the billows will foam and rage at me, and
what a long passage I shall have, and perhaps I shall
sink in the middle, and never set my foot in Hull. It
is true, I am not so much afraid of the journey I go by
land, though I know that every step of the way the horses
or the chaise may fall, and I be killed ; but how do I
know but he may preserve me on the road on purpose
to drown me in the river ? But behold, when she came
to it, all was calm ; or what was better, a gentle, fair
breeze, to waft her pleasantly over before she was aware.
Thus we are apt perversely to reason : he guides and
guards me through life ; he gives me new mercies,
and new proofs of his power and care every day ; and
therefore when I come to die he will forsake me, and let
me be the sport of winds and waves. Indeed, the Lord
does not deserve such hard thoughts at our hands as we
are prone to form of him. But notwithstanding we
make such returns, he is and will be gracious, and shame
us out of our unkind, ungrateful, unbelieving fears at
last. If, after my repeated kind reception at your house,
I should always be teasing Mrs, **** with suspicions of
her good-will, and should tell every body I saw, that I
verily believed the next time I went to see her she would
shut the door in my face and refuse me admittance, would
she not be grieved, offended, and affronted ? Would she
not think. What reason can he assign for this treatment?
He knows I did every thing in my power to assure him
Let. 2. Letters to the Rev. Dr, ****. 663
of a welcome, and told y.;,,! so over and over again.
Does he count me a deceiver: Yes, he does : I see his
friendship is not worth preserving , so farewell : I will
seek friends among such as believe my vvorrig and actions.
Well, mydear Madam, I am clear I always beVvoyed you:
I make no doubt but you will treat me kindly nexitime^
as you did the last. But pray is not the Lord as wor-
thy of being trusted as yourself? and are not his invita-
tions and promises as hearty and as honest as yours?
Let us, therefore, beware of giving way to such thoughts
of him as we could hardly for^rive in our dearest friends,
if they should harbour the like of us.
I have heard nothing of Mr. P**** yet, but that he is in
town, very busy about that precious piece of furniture
called a wife. May the Lord direct and bless his choice.
In Captain Cooks voyage to the South Sea, some fish
were caught which looked as well as others, but those
who eat of them were poisoned : alas I for the poor man
who catches a poisonous wife ! There are such to be met
with in the matrimonial seas, that look passing well to
the eye ; but a connexion with them proves baneful to
domestic peace, and hurtful to the life of grace. I know
tAO or three people, perhaps a tew more, who have great
reason to be thankful to him who sent the fish, with the
money in its mouth, to Peter's hook. He secretly in-
structed and guided us where to angle ; and if we have
caught prizes, we owe it not to our own skill, much les-^
to our deserts, but to his goodness.
I am, &c
Vol. L 4 Q
664 Letters to the Rev, Dr. ****. Let. 3.
LE^'TER III.
My Dear %\vy ' July 4, 1777.
**** pp^ little boy ! it is mercy indeed that he re-
cover©<rn-oin such a formidable hurt. The Lord wound-
ed, and the Lord healed. I ascribe, with you, what the
world calls accident to him, and believe, that without his
permission, for wise and good ends, a child can no m re
pull a bowl of boiling water on itself than it could pull
the moon out of its orbit. And why does he permit
such things ? One reason or two is sufficient for us :
it is to remind us of the uncertainty of life and all crea-
ture-comforts ; to make us afraid of cleaving too close
to pretty toys, which are so precarious, that often while
we look at them they vanish, and to lead us to a more
entire dependence upon himself; that we might never
judge ourselves or our concerns safe from outward ap-
pearances only, but that the Lord is our keeper, and
were not his eye upon us, a thousand dangers and pain-
ful changes, which we can neither foresee nor prevent,
are lurking about us every step, ready to break in upon
us every hour. Men are but children of a larger growth.
How many are labouring and planning in the pursuit of
things, the event of which, if they obtain them, will be
but like pulling scalding water upon their own heads.
They must have the bowl by all means, but they ar0
not aware what is in it till they feel it.
I am, &c.
Lfet. 4. Letters to the Rev. Dr. ****. G05
LETTER IV.
Sir, September?, 1777.
A HAVE had a letter from your minister since his ar-
rival at ****, I hope he will be restored to you aga^a
before long and that he and many of your place will
rejoice long in each other. Those are favoured places
which are blessed with a sound and faithful Gospel
ministry, if the people know and consider the value of
their privileges, and are really desirous of profiting by
them : but the kingdom of God is not in word, but in
power. I hope those who profess the Gospel with you
will wrestle in prayer for grace to walk worthy of it,
A minister's hands are strengthened when he can point
to his people as so many living proofs that the doc-
trines he preaches are doctrines according to godliness;
when they walk in mutual love ; when each one, in their
several places, manifests an humble, spiritual, upright
conduct ; when they are Christians, not only at church
but in the family, the shop, and the field ; when they
fill up their relations in life, as husbands or wives, mas-
ters or servants, parents or children, according to the
rule of the word ; when they are evidently a people se-
parated from the world while conversant in it, and are
careful to let their light shine before men, not only by
talking, but by acting as the disciples of Christ : when
they go on steadily, not by fits and starts, prizing the
means of grace without resting in them : when it is thus,
we can say. Now we live, if you stand fast in the Lord.
Then we come forth with pleasure, and our service is
our delight, and we are encouraged to hope for an in-
creasing blessing. But if the people in whom w-e have
666 Letters to the Rev. Dr. ****'. Let. 4.
rejoiced sink into formality or a worldly spirit ; if they
have dissentions and jealousies among themselves ; if
they act improperly, and give the enemies occasion to
say, There, there, so would we have it ; then our hearts
are woundetJ and our zeal damped, and we know not
how to 4)eak with liberty. It is my heart's desire and
prayer for you, that whether I see you, or else be ab-
sent from you, I may know that you stand fast in one
spirit and one mind, striving together for the faith of
the Gospel.
I am, &c.
EXD OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
\ n I
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