March 21, 1767

My dear Friend: — I would not have let your long and kind epistle be so carelessly passed by, but that I am at present left to myself without a curate. All my time is taken up with parish duty; a great deal of it very unprofitably spent. But I am called to it, and I must, and do submit. I have sat down, and I will write on till I am interrupted. And I begin by telling you how your last refreshed me. It was a seasonable feast, for I was in a sad taking about the account which I had sent you of myselfji having never found any freedom to do it to anybody living before; and I feared either it should be lost, or fall into any other person’s hnrd. I am glad it is in yours. Now you know whereabouts I am, and what my present state is, it may be of some use to you to be informed how I was brought unto it. God’s dealings with me have been wonderful, not only for the royal sovereignty of his richest grace, but also for the manner of his teaching, on which I cannot look back without adoring my meek and lowly prophet. He would have all the honor (and he well deserves it) of working out and also of applying his glorious salvation. When I was in trouble and soul-concern, he would not let me learn of man. I went everywhere to hear, but nobody was suffered to speak to my case. The reason of this I could not tell then, but I know it now. The Arminian Methodists flocked about me, and courted my acquaintance, which became a great snare unto me. By their means I was brought into a difficulty, which distressed me several years, “I was made to believe that part oi my title to salvation was to be inherent — something called holiness in myself, which the grace of God was to help me to. And I was to get it by watchfulness, prayer, fasting, hearing, reading, sacraments, &c.; so that after much and long attendance in those means, I might be able to look inward, and be pleased with my own improvement, finding I was grown in grace, a great deal holier, and more deserving of heaven than I had been.” I do not wonder now that I received this doctrine. It was sweet food to a proud heart. I feasted on it, and to work I went. It was hard labor and sad bondage, but the hopes of having something to glory in of my own kept up my spirits. I went on, day after day, striving, agonizing (as they called it); but still I found myself not a bit better. I thought this was the fault, or that, which, being amended, I should certainly succeed; and therefore set out afresh, but still came to the same place. No galley-slave worked harder, or to less purpose. Sometimes I was quite discouraged, and ready to give all up; but the discovery of some supposed hinderance set me to work again. Then I would redouble my diligence, and exert all my strength. Still I got no ground. This made me often wonder; and still more, when I found, at last, that I was going backward. Methought I grew worse. I saw more sin in myself, instead of more holiness, which made my bondage very hard, and my heart very heavy. The thing I wanted, the more I pursued it, flew farther and farther from me. I had no notion that this was Divine teaching, and that God was delivering me from my mistake in this way: so that the discoveries of my growing worse were dreadful arguments against myself, until now and then a little light would break in and show me something of the glory of Jesus: but it was a glimpse only — gone in a moment. As I saw more of my heart, and began to feel more of my corrupt nature, I got clearer views of Gospel grace; and in proportion as I came to know myself, I advanced in the knowledge of Christ Jesus. But this was very slow work: the old leaven of self-righteousness, new christened hdincss, stuck close to me still, and made me a very dull scholar in the school of Christ. But I kept on,

making a little progress; and as I was forced to give up one thing and another, on which I had some dependence, I was left, at last, stripped of all, and neither had, nor could see where I could have, aught to rest my hopes, that I could call my own. This made way for blessed views of Jesus. Being now led to very deep discoveries of ray own legal heart, of the dishonor which I had put upon the Saviour, of the despite I had done to the Spirit of his grace, by resisting and perverting the workings of his love, these things humbled me. I became very vile in mine own eyes. I gave over striving; the pride of free-will, the boast of mine own works, were laid low. And as self was debased, the Scriptures became an open book, and every page presented the Saviour in new glory. Then were explained to me these truths, which are now the very joy and life of my soul. Such as,

First, The plan of salvation, contrived by the wisdom of Jehovah Alehim, fulfilled in the Divine person and work of Jesus, and appUed by the Spirit of Jesus. The whole was so ordered, from first to last, that all the glory of it might be secured to the persons in Jehovah. The devil fell by pride; he tempted and seduced man into pride: therefore the Lord, to hide pride from man, has so contrived his salvation, that he who glorieth should have nothing to glory in but the Lord.

Secondly, The benefits of salvation are a the free gifts of free grace, conferred without any regard to what the receiver of them is; nothing being looked at by the Giver but his olyn sovereign glory. Therefore the receivers are the ungodly, the worst of them, the unworthy, the chief of sinners; such are saved freely by grace through faith, and that not of themselves: it (namely, salvation by faith) is the gift of God, not of works, lest any man should boast.

Thirdly, When I considered these benefits one by one, it was the very death of self-righteousness and self-complacency; for when I looked at the empty hand which faith puts forth to receive them, whence was the hand emptied — whence came faith — whence the power to put forth the empty hand — and whence the benefits received upon putting it forth? All is of God; he humbles us, that we may be willing to receive Christ; he keeps us humble, that we may be willing to live by faith upon Christ received: and as it is a great benefit to have this faith, so it is,

Fourthly, A great, inestimably great benefit to live by faith; for this is a life in every act of it dependent upon another. Self is renounced, so far as Christ is lived upon. And faith is the most emptying, pulling down grace; most emptying, because it says, and proves it too: In me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing, and therefore it will not let a man see aught good in himself, but pulls down every high thought, and lays it low in subjection to Jesus. It is called the faith of the Son of God, because he is the author and the finisher of it; he gives it; he gives to live by it; he gives the benefits received by it; he gives the glory laid up for it; so that if I live to God, and in any act have living communion with God, it is by nothing in myself, but wholly by the faith of the Son of God. When I wanted to do anything commanded (what they call duties) I found, Ffthhj, A continual matter of humiliation. I was forced to be dependent for the will and for the power, and, having done my best, I could not present it to God but upon the golden altar that sanctifieth the gifts; not the worthiness, not the goodness of the gifts, but the sanctifying grace of the Great High Priest alone can make them holy and acceptable. How low did this lay the pride of good works; since, after all, they were viler than clung, unless perfumed w ith the sweet incense of Jesus’ blood and righteousness? Here I learnt to eye him in all my works and duties, the alpha and omega of them; the life and spirit of all my prayers and sermons, and hearing, and reading, and ordinances; they are all dead works, unless done in and by faith of the Son of God. Against this blessed truth, of which I am as certain as that I am alive, I find my nature kick. To this hour a legal heart will be creeping into duties, to get between me and my dear Jesus, whom I go to meet in them. But he soon recovers me from the temptation, makes me loathe myself for it, and gets fresh glory to his sovereign grace; and as all the great and good things ever done in the world were done by faith, so all the crosses ever endured with patience were from the same cause: which is,

SiztJihj, Another humbling lesson. I find to this moment so much unbelief and impatience in myself, that if God was to leave me to be tried with anything that crossed my will, if it was but a feather, it would break my back. Nothing tends to keep me vile in my own eyes like this fretting and murmuring, and heart-burning, when the will of God in the least thwarts my will. I read, the trial of your faith worketh patience; the trial of mine, the direct contrary. Instead of patient submission, I want to have my own way, to take very little physic, and that very sweet: so the flesh lusteth. But the Physician knows better; he knows when and what to prescribe: may every potion pui’ge out this impatient, proud, unbelieving temper, so that faith may render healthful to the soul, what is painful to the flesh. And as no cross can be endured without the faith of the Son of God, so,

Seventhly and lastly, There is no comfortable view of leaving the world, but by the same faith. These all, who had obtained a good report in every age, died in faith. On their death-bed they did not look for present peace and future glory, but to the Lamb of God. Their great works, their eminent services, their various sufferings, all were cast behind their backs, and they died as they lived, looking at nothing but Jesus. He was their antidote against the fear and against the power of death. They feared not the cold death-sweat; Jesus’ bloody sweat was their dependence. The dart lost its force on Jesus’ side. The sting was lost in his corpse. Death stung himself to death when it killed him. There is life, life in its highest exaltation and glory, in not breathing the air of this world. This life, through death, Jesus entered on, and we enter on it now by faith; and when our breath is stopped, we have this life, as he has it, pure, spiritual and divine. Because he lives it, we shall live it also. Yes, my dear friend, we, you and I, after we have lived a little longer, to empty us more, to bring us more out of ourselves, that we may be humbled, and Jesus exalted more, we shall fall asleep in Jesus, not die, but sleep; not see, not taste death, so he promises us; but in his dear arms sweetly go to rest in our weary bodies, when our souls shall be with the Lord. And then we shall be perfect in that lesson, which we learn so very slow in this present world, namely, that from him, and of him, and to him, are all things; to whom be all the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.

These are the things which God himself has taught nic. Man had no hand at all in it. No person in the world, not I myself: for 1 fought against them as long as I could; so that my present possession of them, with all the rich blessings which they contain, is from my heavenly teacher alone. And I have not learned them, as we do mathematics, to keep them in memory, and to make use of them when I please; no, I find in me to this moment an opposition to every Gospel truth, both to the belief of it in my head, and to the comfort of it in my heart. I am still a poor dependent creature, sitting very low at the feet of my dear teacher, and learning to admire that love of his, which brought me down, and keeps me down at his feet. There be my seat, till I learn my lesson perfectly. That will soon be. There is nothing in his presence but what is like himself In heaven all is perfection. The saints are as humble as they are happy. Clothed with glory, and clothed with humility, with one heart and one voice they cry. Worthy IS THE Lamb. They look not at, they praise not, one another; but the Lamb is glorified in his saints, and will have from them never-ending praise and glory for the glory which his sovereign grace has bestowed upon them. In a measure, I now feel what they do. My heart is in tune, and I can join that blessed hymn — looking at him as the giver of grace, (and grace is glory begun, nota bene,) as they look at him, the giver of glory. I can take the crown, most gladly, from the head of all my graces, as they do from the head of their glory, and cast it down at his loving feet. Worthy is the Lamb. He is — he is — blessings on him forever and ever!

Ought not I to say so, indebted as I am to that precious Lamb of God 1 You see how he has dealt with me — the kindness, the gentleness of his ways — his royal bounty — the magnificence of his love. Adore and praise him with me, and for me. And learn, my dear friend, from what I have here related, to trust him more. When he shows you your vile heart, your poor works, when dreadful corruptions stir, and are ready to break out, go to him, freely, boldly; stop not a moment to reason with your own proud spirit, but fall down at his footstool. Tell him just what you feel. He loves to hear our complaints poured with confidence into his bosom. And never, never on earth, will you get such fellowship with him, so close, so blessed, as when you converse with him in this poverty of spirit. Let nothing keep you fi-om him; whatever you meet with, let it drive you to him; for all good is from him and all evil is turned into good by him. O wondrous Saviour! Here was I going on, and I hope in this theme never to stop; but the Rev. Mr. is come in — one just ordained. I don’t leave Jesus to talk to him, but I am going to talk to him of sweet Jesus. To him I commend you and yours. Believe me very truly yours, in that most lovely Lord Christ, most precious Jesus,

W. R.