Letters, 1819
Lettei» — To Rev. T. Thomasoii on the Protoeol in fkfm of the Jew» — Piopoeed Tour in
thflir behalf to Scotland and Ireland — To Rev. Mr. on the Affairs at Amaterdam
—On Poetiy in Sermons — To the ^ame, on Tenderness towards Parents — To a Person solicittng Pupilft — To a Curate on his Conduct towards hie Vicar — To Rev. T. Thomason on his Tour fipr the Jews’ Soeiely — The Divine Purposes wfth raspect to die Jews — To Miss Prisdlla Oumej on rqprd fiir her health — Msmorandum recording his * Secret Experience.’
1810.
OORfiBSPONDBNCBy BTO.
To Rev. T. Thomabon.
‘<K.C., Jan. 12,1819.
My beloved Brother, —
“Mr. Way has returned after an excursion of sixteen months. He had repeated interviews with the Emperor of Russia, who conversed with him as a Christian and a brother. He went to the Congress at Aix-Ia-Chapelle, and there presented a memorial to the united sovereigns; and has gained from them a public protocol, applauding his views, and engaging to exert themselves in their respective empires for the temporal and spiritual good of the Jews. The Emperor of Russia ordered Prince Galitzin to give a sketch of what the memorial should embrace. It was to give a three-fold view of the subject: 1. Religious; 2. Political; 3. Administrative; comparing and contrasting the benefits to be conferred on the Jews, with the benefits to be derived to each state from them, when their reform and consequent elevation in societv should take place. I possess it all containing many sheets: and bless God that it was so favorably received. The
Protocol was signed by Prince Metternich, Capodistrias, Richeeu, Wellington, Castlereagh and two others. Tell me; Is not God in all this?
‘’ Thoughout Poland and Germany Mr. Way met with much encouragement amongst the Jews. Mr. Solomon, the Jew-Christian, that is ordained minister in the Church of England, is left in Poland; and we are going to send him a fellow-laborer, (two and two was our Lord’s plan;) we are about to send also a Jew-Christian (Friedenburgh,) whom I hope to get ordained speedily, to another part in Germany, and for him too we have just ootained a most blessed coadjutor and director, Mr. Neitsche, with whose name you are already acquainted as a man of learning, piety, and
294 PROTOCOL IN FAVOR OF THE JEWB. [cHAP. ZZI.
zeal. I have also many other plans; but as I know not that they can be realized till I have seen the Bishop of St. David’s, I say nothing of them at present. I leave this letter to be completed when f have been at Stansted (Mr. Way’s,) where I go next Monday to meet the Bishops of St. David’s and Gloucester. I hope God will open the heart of the former to enter fully into my views. He has already shown great kindness and done much; but I am not content with drops: I want, if it may please God, a shower. Here then I leave this subject for the present.
“I now go on to tell you some views which I have for the advancement of the society; and the stirring up the Christian public. If I live to April, I expect to go all through Scotland, and then to Dublin, where there are many saying, ‘Come over and help us.’ We must this year not only get Sr our ordinary expenses, but for our augmented expenses of foreign missions; so I must put my poor weak hand to the plough, and do all I can. But God is with us; and I doubt not of a blessed issue. I shall hope to receive some good aid from your quarter also
“I perceive that this paper will not suffice for one-fourth part of what I shall have to say after seeing the Bishop of St David’s; and therefore I shall add to this some other matters, particulai’Iy
one most interesting, a copy of the protocol before referred to.
******
“Now, my brother, if this do not give us encouragement, what can? Is not this a little like the times of Cyrus, especially when taken in connection with what is doing amongst Christians and now looked for amongst the Jews? 1 account it a rich blessing to have been spared to see this day, and to be permitted to hold a trowel (and without a sword too) before my own door. Let every one do this, and the wall will soon be up. There were many female laborers then, and so there are now; and they put us to shame. Let us up and be doing.
‘Ever, ever yours, C. Simeon.”
«
To the Rev. Mr., at Amsterdam.
1819.
“My very dear Friend and Brother, —
I do not promise to fill this sheet: but I do not shrink back from the sight of it as formidable: for my soul is with you, and I long to prove that it is with you. I delight in your openness; and I wish you ever to continue it. Cardiphonia must be the title of all our correspondence.
•’Mr.. delivered to me your kind letter, and I began to
think that I should appear unkind in not having answered it before. But I scarcely considered that as anything more than a valedictory message by him. Lest, however, I should have been mistaken in that, I was purposing, as I told your brother yesterday,
to write to you immediately: for I was afraid that instead of regarding me as the stork, (so much loved in your land,) you should Took upon me as the ostrich, which having laid her egg, feels no more concern about it
*’ Last week I went up to town, with a heavy cold upon me, in order to arrange my journey to Scotland and Ireland; but chiefly to meet Dr. Pinkertoh and Mr. Way, on the subject of missionary exertions. The more I think of the state of the Jews throughout the world, and of the importance of putting the Hebrew New Testament into their hanas with suitable tracts, the more I am convinced, that to send forth missionaries among them is far more likely to be extensively useful, than to confine our attention to any one city, or any one kingdom in the universe. I feel that your station as a post of observation,’ a head-quarters, or a point dappui (which Bonaparte used to speak so much about,) is of vast importance; but that its importance consists not so much in its reference to the Jews of Amsterdam only, as in its reference to the Continent at large, of which it is a most convenient centre. On this subject I was extremely anxious to hear their opinion; not because I have any doubt what their opinion is, but because I am extremely desirous not to express an opinion, which I do not previously know to be the opinion of better informed judges than myself.
But my illness so increased, that on the very morning of the meeting I was compelled to set off for Cambridge; it being very doubtful in mv own mind when I should be able to o thither, if at all, if I neglected to move whilst I could. Thus I lost the opportunity for which I went But, if 1 say the truth, it was rather from a desire to approve myself to you, and to Mr. A., than from any other thought whatever, that I went up at all. You know me pretty well; you know that versatility is no part of my constitutional or acquired character. You know that little things do not stop me. You know that if a thing is to be done, I do not count pence, or pounds; and at the same time, I fondly hope you know that to approve myself to God as SLwise steward, and a faithful servant, is the only object that I account worthy of a thought. My dear friend Mr. A. knows but little of me; he has never had an opportunity of forming any judgment about my conduct towards God. To him I might appear to be fickle, or to shrink from a sacrifice; and the suggesting of a doubt about the purchase of the chapel might lead him to say, * Who can tell, but that he may not douot about the maintenance of a minister here V You, my beloved brother, who know more of my secret springs of action, will be in no danger of indulging any such surmises. You know whereabouts I am; — what I mean; — and what I purpose. You know that I am not like the world, suggesting one thought first in order to introduce another afterwards. You know that whilst I love openness in others, I would practise it myself. I pray you,
206 POBTRT IN SERMONS. £cHAF. XZK
therefore, not to suffer on dear Mr. A.’s mind for one moment the apprehension of versatility on my part, or the least idea that the society will ever feel less, than they have already done, the importance of maintaining a minister in your post; and entreat him, with my kind regards, to communicate to me with the utmost possible freedom and candor, his views of the subject which I have here touched upon. ... I only want to see what our duty to God requires, and what will ultimately roost subserve the interests of his cause and people.
‘* I have left but little room for answers to your two letters. I hiehly approve of your determination to adhere closely to your subject. Kambling may occasionally produce impression; but its proper tendency is, idleness in you, and lassitude in your hearers: poetry is beautiful in itself; but if you will come from the mount of God, you will find prose better suited for telling men about their golden calf. First tell a man that his house is on fire, or his father dead, in verse, and then interlard your sermons with it: but till then, keep in mind the motto: —
* Pd preach as though I ne’er should preach again,
I’d preach, as dying, unto dying men.’
Your preparation for the Jews should at present be general; not particular. But they should be kept in mind as the great ultimate object. It will be well to let Van OflTen feel his ground, and show by his conduct that he may safely be admitted to baptism; but do not hold out any expectations to him of temporal support. The ’ pearl of great price’ must alone recompense his sacrifices. Most affectionately yours,
“C. Simeon.”
To the same.
^’K.C^ March 9, 1819.
“My beloved Friend, —
“You cannot think with what delight your letter this moment received fills me. You understand me clearly: you write as one that understands me; you know, evidently, that any suggestions of mine are not from versatility or any unworthy motive: and I feel encouraged to speak all that is in my ‘heart to you with brotherly freedom. This is as it should be. I delight
exceedingly in your views and statements about: and on
this, and all subjects without exception, I shall delight to receive your opinions freely. It is on this account that I take up my pen instantly, that I itiay thereby express to you the love of my heart. I have most important matters immediately demanding my attention; and I know, that if I answer by return of post, as 1 intend to do, I have three days to write in, yet I cannot rest three hours, or three minutes, without assuring you what joy I feel in the freedom of your communications. And I long that Mr. A., whom I
OBAP« ZXL] INTBOUTY IN. dlVING A ECCOXXENDATION. 397
greatly respect and love, should know me thoroughly»that so our mutual love and confidence may continually increase.
Having written my prefatory remark, I now put down my pen; but it shows you, that there is an elasticity in my heart that will rebound to any pressure of your love
“What you say respecting your father comes home to my own heart and conscience. My own father, alas I was so; and 1 feel that I did not sufficiently bear with him, and feel for him’, and try to win him. I was always so unhappy in his company, that I could not put on sufficient ease and cheerfulness: and 1 seem to think that if he were now alive, I would try more the effect of such condescension on my part; yet I doubt much, whether as quite a young man I could safely venture to do all that I might at a more advanced age. I think we ouht to feel towards such persons as we should towards our beloved monarch, if we now saw him beating his head against a wall. That will give you a clearer idea than ten thousana words: and that is what I now endeavor to feel towards those, whose situation calls rather for compassion than for anger and displeasure.
Continue, my very dear friend, to speak to me all your heart on all occasions; and assure yourself of a perfect reciprocity on the part of
Your most affectionate brother in the Lord, C. S.**
To a Person who requested to be recommended as a Tutor.
‘’Mazchie, 1810.
“Dear Sir, —
A parable shall be my answer to you.
*’ A friend of mine fell from his horse and broke both his legs, and otherwise bruised his body exceedingly. He, knowing that I was acquainted with the relative skill of the surgeons in Cambridge, sent to me to recommend him one. There were four or five very experienced men. But there was one in straitened circumstances, just setting up in business, and therefore I recommended him; because if my friend died, the dead man would tell no tales; and if he was cured, his recovery would help forward the young surgeon. It happened that my friend, who if he had been treated skilfully might have recovered, was forced to have both his legs amputated, and was kept a cripple to his bed for many years. I was satisfied, because I had done my duty. There was a young man who wanted business, .and I had performed an act of friendship in helping him to a job. It happened, however, that after a time my friend heard that there were four or five skilful surgeons withm the same distance as the one I had recommended: and he heard that the surgeon I had recommended thought himself much indebted to me for my recommendation.
298 ADVIOB TO A OtTBATB. [oHAP. XXL
The cripple of course was pleased and satisfied with what I had done, because he had applied to me for a recommendationy and I had given him one. But an enemy of mine got to his ear, and represented my conduct in a very unkind point of view. He told him that he had reposed confidence in me in a matter of the greatest possible importance, and that I had betrayed that confidence; and instead of seeking his bodily welfare, I had lost sight of that, and sought only the pecuniary benefit of another friend; and had thus actually sacrificed his welfare through life for a little present advantage to another person.
This he was unreasonable enough to make a matter of complaint against me. But I wrote him word that he was quite unreasonable; for that when he applied to me to recommend a surfeon, he must know that his bodily welfare was the last thing that ought to take into my consideration. It afl!brded me a piece of patronage, and gave me an opportunity of promoting the pecuniary interests of another: and of course it was my duty to pursue the plan I had followed; and if it happened that I had done it at his expense, that was simply his misfortune; or rather, he should not think he had sufiered any misfortune at all, since the loss of his limbs and health had answered the purpose I intended, of putting a few pounds into the pocket of another to whom they were very acceptable.
“As you cannot but approve of my conduct in this respect, you will expect me to follow it towards all friends who consult me about the paltry matter of the education of their children. I am, sir,
“Your most faithful servant,
“C. SlMBON.”
To a Curate, who had been requested by his Incumbent to leave him.
“March 18, 1819.
” My dear Sir, —
“I never interfere in the concerns of others, unless called to do so by both parties. As an abstract question, I think, that for a man professing piety to force himself upon his principal against his will, is no very Christian act. There are a set of people in the Church who would recommend and encourage such a step; but they are not the most humble and modest of our flock. You must take care what spirit you encourage in others, and what spirit you exercise yourself. I am, dear sir,
1 our most faithful servant, C. S.**
, To Rev. T. Thomason.
Manchester, Jane 12, 1819.
“My beloved Brother, —
‘* In all my letters to you I confine myself to matters which I conceive to be of more interest than common chit-chat; but now I take up my pen to show my love, just as I should do if silting at ydur side. I do not commonly like to talk of self (it is a dangerous and hateful subject for the most part;) but in this letter self will be, apparently at least, the only subject. Nor am I afraid that you will say, My old friend and brother is strangely altered:’ for it is to please and gratify you and my dear sister, and to show my love to both of you, that I descend from greater and more important iubjects, to give you a little account of a journey which I have commenced for the Lord: and to tell you the principle occurrences of my tour, which hitherto has far exceeded my most sanguine expectations.
“The Jewish cause in Britain needs all the aid it can receive; none but persons of piety in the establishment will come forward to take a part in it. Hence the more need of exertion in those who have espoused it: hence I have endeavored to do what little I could by travelling through a large part of Britain two years ago, and going to Holland last year, and to Scotland this year. In order to be at Edinburg at the time of the General Assembly, I left Cambridge before the division of term, 10th of May, with Mr. Marsh, (the loveliest of men,) to proceed thither. My plan was (and all who were to be visited were apprised of it) not to do two things, such as speaking at a meeting and preaching in one day, and not to preach two days following: because it was, humanly speaking, impossible for me to sustain it. Accordingly, I set out with these good intentions. But the very first day, at Leicester, I preached besides speakii an hour at a public meeting: and the next day I conversed (carefully indeed, and in a whisper) on a most interesting case of conscience for two hours, and preached again. This second sermon was at Lutterworth, and it arose out of the exertions of the former day. The minister of Lutterworth had refused his pulpit, but was so wrought on at Leicester, that he urged me to come, sent all round Lutterworth to the clergy to come and meet me at dinner, and got me a good congregation. About thirty other clergy met me at Leicester; and the Lord was with me, and strengthened me for my labor so that I sustained no injury. A spirit of life and love was kindled there.
“Thence I went next day to Derby, where everything had languished grievously. We’ had a meeting, and Mr. Marsh preached, and a great revival took place there also.
Thence we went to Hull, where our first Sabbath was spent. There also the cause was at a very low ebb: but I preached in the High Church to an immense audience, by all of whom I was
800 TOOK FOR THE JBWB* BOCIBTT. [OHAP. XXI.
well heard; and spoke next day at a public meeting; and numbers stepped forth full of life and zeal to form an auxiliary society. Many inquiries were* made after you at that place as well as many others.
“Thence we proceeded to Berwick, where, as no letter had reached us at Hull, we supposed we were not expected. We therefore did not hasten thither, as we should otherwise have done; and wh we reached the town we were goin forward with fresh horses immediately. The carriage proceeded through the town, whilst we walked through: but bemg recognized, a person informed us that we had been expected the preceding evening, and a congregation of 1500 persons been disappointed. We instantly ordered back the carriage, waited on the minister and chief persons, offered to stop and preach, and I preached to above 1000 persons, whose countenances all told us that they cordially forgave their preceding disappointment. They were convinced that it had not arisen from versatility or indifference in us. In my apology I referred to the apostle’s appeal to God, * As God is true, our word was not yea and nay, &c.;’ but I made a sad mistake; for I said that had I known I was expected, I would have travelled all night, or even come barefoot; which I then began to see would have been no sacrifice at all, since half the women I saw travelled barefoot by choice when they had shoes in their hands.
“On Friday we reached Edinburgh; and were at Dr. Buchanan’s, whose love to you and yours cannot easily be exceeded. The alteration that has taken place in the New Town, and at the Calton-hill surpasses all description. I suppose, and it is generally supposed, that the whole world does not contain anything of the size more grand and imposing than the new entrance over the Calton-hill. But I forbear to attempt a description, which would fill my sheet, and fall infinitely below the reality at last.
“Here I was interrupted, and afterwards being disgusted at the very idea of talking about self, I had resolved to cast it into the fire. But on reading it again, I do not seerp to have gone beyond what the narrative required, especially for the amusement of a brother, and therefore I let it stand.
Our success at Edinburgh exceeded our most sanguine hopes, even if I estimated it by the money obtained: but on a review of our whole journey, I consider that as nothing in comparison of the interest excited and the good done. In five weeks Mr. Marsh and I brought home 800 guineas clear gain; the journey having cost the society nothing.
In returning southward, I showed Mr. Marsh the Falls of the Clyde, and Lanark Mills, where he addressed about 300 children. Carlisle, in consequence of our stay at Lanark, had less of our company than I intended: but though I went not to Scaleby, we saw the dear inhabitants. There was however there, as in every other place, a deadness to the object till we stirred them up. But
OBAT. XXI.] TOUB FOE THE JEWS* 80CIET7. 801
our statements carried conviction to their minds. Three things in particular created a deep sensation in every place. 1st. The edict of the Kins; of the Netherlands, relative to the education of the Jews in the knowledge of their own Scriptures in the Hebrew tongue. 2nd. The protocol drawn up by the five united sovereigns at Aix-la-Chapelle, declaring their approbation of the ^reat objects of our society, and their determination to promote me civil and religious advancement of the Jews in their respective dominions. yd. A challenge which I cave to the whole world, that if any person would state, what mint reasonably be expected to be done by Grod to evince that the time for the conversion of the Jews was near, I would undertake, not only to show, but to prove, and that to demonstration, that those signs were at this moment in actual existence; and not those signs only, but far sreater signs than a reasonable being could venture to demand. I should like to enter on this subject fully with you, but have neither time nor room. But you who know my writings, know that I am not in the habit of taking light things for proofs, or of making my conclusions broader than my premises.
“At Preston, where the second son of Carus Wilson is vicar, there is an immense sphere; and two thousand people, at least, flocked to hear me. I had originally intended not to preach above three times in a week; but being strengthened, almost as in former days, I preached nearly every day, and to immense congregations, besides speaking at meetings; and I am returned a miracle to myself and to my people.
But at Liverpool you would be amazed to hear what a holy zeal is kindled. We staid a whole week there, preaching in one or more places every day. There, as well as at Leicester and Hull, they have formed auxiliary societies in consequence of this visit The astonishing reception we met with there, and in all other places, seems to make it imperative upon us to go, if our lives be spared, another year. To Ireland also, in all probability, we shall go, if I can get my work, which is about to be printed, m sufficient forwardness to admit of that time for relaxation. We ex-Ect Lord Derby will be president of the Liverpool auxiliary, and r. Gladstone, General Murray, (who was in the chair,) and Admiral Dirom (who also was at the meeting,) will be vice-presidents.
At Manchester the Divine favor was still continued to us; and from thence we came home without one untoward event; so that instead of singing of mercy and judgment,’ we were constrained to sing of mercy only.
On Sunday last I preached twice in my church, as in former days; and shall continue to do so whilst my assistant is absent.
I ought to have told you, that at Liverpool and Manchester the Jews were convened that I might address them. Had I time to write you on this subject, I could say much. I spoke from Mic. ▼• 7; and showed that God had mercy in view both for them, and
302 THE DUTY OF PSESERVINO HEALTH. [cHAP. XXI.
for the world, in their present dispersion: for them, because their banishment from Judea precluded them from a possibility of looking to the Mosaic rites for acceptance, and shut them up to the Messiah; (as Adam’s expulsion from Paradise had prevented him from erroneously regarding the tree of life as a pledge of lifejn his fallen state, which it had been in his state of innocence:) and it was in mercy to the world, to whom they are sent like the dew and rain, uncalled, unsent (by man,) unconscious, but the appointed means of turning the wilderness into an Eden, and ’ the desert into a garden of the Lord, I opened at last their fitness for this work beyond all the people of the earth, and proved it from the word, •They shall declare my glory among the Gentiles,’ Isai. lxvi. 19. See also Zech. viii. 13. Rom. xi. 12, 15. This reflects, the true light on Zech. viii. ult.; and answers. the objections deduced from it, viz. * Why do ye seek to make us Christians, when it is as Jews that you are to lay hold of our skirt V But I did not intend to preach to you.’*
To Miss Priscilla Gurney.
King’s Coll Sept. 1, 1S19.
“My very dear Friend, and Sister, —
I am much concerned to hear of your increased illness. I thought, when I had the pleasure of seeing you, that you needed great care: and though I doubt not but that you are quite ready to meet this dispensation of illness, or even of death, I greatly doubt whether you are prepared to meet the dispensation of caring for your own health. This is a lesson which you have yet to learn. Had I, when my voice first failed me, fourteen years ago, been able to lay by entirely, and not expend the little strength which was given me from time to time, I should in all probability have been a strong man at this day. But I loved my work, and I loved my fellow-creatures, and when urged to abstain from any particular work and labor of love, I pleaded, * Is it not a little one V And thus I never got forward
“But, my dear Priscilla, it is comforting both to you and me to know that our wounds have been eot in our Master’s service: and we may well doubt whether the oeaux and belles, who have caught their death by going to plays and balls, can feel the satisfaction in their maladies that we do.
“We know that the Apostle Paul took pleasure in his infirmities and distresses for Christ’s sake; and it is our privilege to do the same. Still however I do feel, and I wish you to feel, that it is our duty to take care of our health; and if, on the one hand, we desire to depart and be with Christ;’ yet, considering the benefit that may accrue to others, it becomes us to be willing to abide longer in the body, and to do more work before we go to our reward.
“I thank you, my dear friend, for permitting me to be informed of your state; because it will be my delight to bear you in remembrance before the Lord; with whom also I hope you will kindly intercede for me. I hope and trust that this cessation from your accustomed labors will be attended with more intrinsic and abiding communion with your Lord; and my prayer to God for you is, that you may in this season of seclusion have such abundant discoveries of his incomprehensible love, as may be effectual to * fill you with all the fulness of God.’ Believe me, my dear Priscilla, your sympathizing friend, C. Simeon.”
In the early part of this year, Mr. Simeon, having accidentally heard that a friend had made some remark* upon his habit of giving expression to his religious feelings ’ in sighs and groans,’ as if it indicated that * all was not right in his experience,’ drew up the following paper: —
Circumstances of my Inward Experience.
“It is now a little above forty years since I began to seek after God; and within about three months of that time, after much humiliation and prayer, I found peace through that Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world. About half a year after that, I had some doubts and fears about my state, in consequence of an erroneous notion which I had imbibed from Mr. Hervey about the nature of saving faith. But when I found from better information that justifying faith was a faith of affiance, and not a faith of assurance, my peace returned; because, though I had not a faith of assurance, I had as full a conviction that I relied on the Lord Jesus Christ alone for salvation, as I had of my own existence. From that time to the present hour I have never for a moment lost my hope and confidence in my adorable Saviour; for though, alas I I have had deep and abundant cause for humiliation, I have never ceased to wash in that fountain that was opened for sin and uncleanness, or to cast myself upon the tender mercy of my reconciled God.
“with this sweet hope of ultimate acceptance with God, I have always enjoyed much cheerfulness before men; but I have at the same time labored incessantly to cultivate the deepest humiliation before God. I have never thought that the circumstance of God’s having forgiven me, was any reason why I should forgive myself; on the contrary, I have always judged it better to loathe myself the more, in proportion as I was assured that God was pacified towards me.* Nor have I been satisfied with viewing my sins, as men view the stars in a cloudy night, one here and another there, with great intervals between; but have endeavored to get, and to preserve continually before my eyes, such a view of them as we have of the stars in the brightest night: the greater and
Ezek. xri 63.
S04 Hia INWAED EZPBRIENCE. fcHAP. XZI.
the smaller all intermingled, and forming as it were one continuous mass; nor yet, as committed a long time ago, and in manj successive years; but as all forming an aggregate of guilt, and needing the same measure of humiliation daily, as they needed at the very moment they were committed. Nor would I willingly rest with such a view as presents itself to the naked eye; I have desired and do desire daily, that God would put (so to speak) a telescope to my eye, and enable me to see, not a thousa|;id only, but millions of my sins, which are more numerous than all the stars which God himself beholds, and more than the sands upon the sea-shore. There are but two objects that I have ever desired for these forty years to behold; the one is, my own vileness; and the other is, the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ: and I have always thought that they should be viewed together; just as Aaion confessed all the sins of all Israel whilst he put them on the head of the scape-goat The disease did not keep him from applying to the remedy, nor did the remedy keep him from feeling the disease. By this I seek to be, not only humble and thankful but humbled in thankfulness before my God and Saviour continually.
This is the religion that pervades the whole Liturgy, and particularly the Communion Service; and this makes the Liturgy inexpressibly sweet to me. The repeated cries to each Person of the ever-adorable Trinity for mercy, are not at all too frequent or too fervent for me; nor is the Confession in the Communion Service too strong for me; nor the * Te Deum,’ nor the ascriptions of glory after the Lord*s Supper, * Glory be to God on high, &c.’ too exalted for me; the praise all through savors of adoration; and the adoration of humility. And this shows what men of God the framers of our Liturgy were, and what I pant, and long, and strive to be. This makes the Liturgy as superior to all modern compositions, as the work of a philosopher on any deep subject is to that of a school-boy, who understands scarcely anything about it.
“The consequence of this unremitted labor is, that 1 have, and have continually had, such a sense of my sinfulness, as would sink me into utter despair, if I had not an assured view of the sufficiency and willingness of Christ to save me to the uttermost. And at the same time I have such a sense of my acceptance throufi;h Christ, as would overset my little bark, if I had not Jballast at the bottom sufficient to sink a vessel of no ordinary size. This experience has been now so unintermitted for forty years, that a thought only of some defect, or of something which might have been done better, often draws from me as deep a sigh as if I had committed the most enormous crime; because it is viewed by me not as a mere single grain of sand, but as a grain of sand added to an already accumulated mountain. So deep are my views of my corruption, that I scarcely ever join in the Confession of our
Church without perceiving, almost as with my bodily organs, mjr soul as a dead and putrefied* carcass; and I join in that acknowledgment, * There is no health in us, in a way that none but God himself can conceive. No language that I could use could at all express the goings forth of my soul with those words, or the privilege I feel in being permitted to address the God of heaven Und earth in these words, Almighty — and most merciful — Father/
‘* Hence then my sighs and groans when in secret, and which, when least thought of by me, may have been noticed by others. And if the Apostle Paul so felt the burthen of sin as to cry O wretched ian that I am I who shall deliver me from the body of this death?’ (Rom. vii. 24;) if he, who had the first fruits of the Spirit, groaned within himself, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption pf the body,’ (Rom. viii. 23,) yea * groaned, being burthened,’ (2 Cor. v. 4:) who am I, that I should not so feel, or so express my feelings; or that I should even wish to be exempt from them 7 So far am I fi-om wishing to be exempt from them, that I wish and long to have them in a tenfold greater degree; and as already in my daily approaches to the throne of grace, and in my solitude, and in my rides, it is in sighs and groans that I make known my wants to God more than in words, for He knoweth the mind of His Spirit speaking in me;’ so I desire yet more and more that the Spirit of God may make intercession, both in me and for me, ’ with groanings which cannot be uttered,’ since words would fail to give them utterance. (Rom. viii. 26.)
But persons mistake who imagine that groans are expressive only of a sense of guilt: they are often the expressions of desire; as bavid says, ‘Lord, all my desire is before thee; and my groaning is not hid from thee,’ (Ps. xxxviii. 9.) And such, I trushave been many of the groans which I have uttered in secret, and some of which may possibly have been overheard.
Nor is it on a personal account only that groans are uttered. A minister who knows what it is to * travail in birth with his pecJple till Christ be formed in them,’ will find many occasions of sorrow, as I have of late years. I have had a people, some of whom have ill understood their duty towards me, (Heb. xiii. 17,) and have constrained me * to give up my daily account, not with joy, but with grief;’ or as it is,hi the original, ‘with groans.’
But supposing those expressions of my feelings to have been on a personal account only, and that only from a sense of my unworthiness, I am far from conceiving it to be on the whole an undesirable experience; for by means of it my joys are tempered with contrition, and my confidence with fear and shame. 1 consider the rellgtDn of the day as materially defective in this point; and the preaching of pious ministers defective also. I do not see, so much as I could wish, an holy reverential awe of God. The confidence at is generally professed does not sufficiently, in my
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opinion, savor of a creature-lie spirit, or of a sinner-like spirit. It ninety-nine out of an hundred, of even good men, were now informed for the first time, that Isaiah in a vision saw the seraphim before the throne; and that each of the seraphs had six wings; and then were asked, * How do you think that they employ their wings V I think their answer would be, * How? why they fly with them with all their might; and if they had six hundred wings they would do the same, exerting all their poWers in the service of their God:’ they would never dream of their employing two to veil heir faces, as unworthy to behold their God, and two to veil their feet, as unworthy to serve him; and devoting pnly the remaining two to what might be deemed their more appropriate use. But I doubt much whether the seraphs do not judge quite as well as they, and serve their God in quite as acceptable a manner as they would, if their energies were less bjended with modesty and conscious unworthiness. But whatever opinions the generality of Christians might form, I confess that this is the religion which I love; I would have conscious unworthiness to pervade every act and habit of my soul; and whether the woof be more or less brilliant, I would have humility to be the warp.
I often in my ministry speak of Job’s experience, after God had so revealed Himself to him, as proper for all: why then should I not cultivate it myself, and really, truly, deeply, and as before the heart-searching God, * abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes?’ (Job xlii. 6.) Can I enter into the spirit of that word o&Aor, and not groan? Or, is that a word which is to have no counterpart in our actual experience? — I do not undervalue jay; but I suspect it, when it is not blended with the deepest humiliation and contrition. God has said that a * broken and a contrite heart He will not despise:’ and is that an attainment that is so low and small that I may leave it behind me, as a state that was proper for me forty years ago but not now? What is meant by a broken heart? Would to God that I knew! for with all my groaning I do not know a thousandth part of what it means. I remember to have heard a saying of * * *, and though I do not admire the expression, I do admire the sentiment; and I would not feel my obligation to my Saviour less than I do for ten thousand worlds. Indeed, I consider that this very feeling will constitute the chief felicity of heaven; and that every blessing we there enjoy will be most of all endeared to us as being the fruit of redeeming love. I behold the glorified saints in heaven falling on their faces before the throne, whilst they sing praises to their redeeming God, (Rev. V. 8-14.) What then should / do on earth! Yea, l behold even the angels who never sinned, adoring God in that same posture, (Rev. vii. II.) What then should i do, whose whole soul is but one mass of sin and corruption? Finally, God himself is light, and I am to be as like Him as I can. But what is light? is it not a combination of different rays, — the red, the orange, the yellow,
the green, the blue, the indigo, and the violet? Some would think perhaps that they could make better light, if they had the brilliant rays alone: but so think not I; I would have the due proportion of the sombre with the bright; and all in simultaneous motion: and then I think I should more resemble both the created and the uncreated light. At all events, this is my one ambition, to live with one Mary at my Saviour’s feet, listening to His words, (whilst others are cumberea about the world,) and to die with the other Mary, washing his feet with my tears, and wiping them with the hairs of my head.**
“P. S. I have not been till lately acquainted with any book, except* Augustine’s Meditations, that exactly paints all that I approve, and all that I wish to be; Brainerd’s Life has too much of gloom and despondency for me. But I think that the Memoirs of my beloved and honored friend, Henry Martyn, come exactly to the point J. and his biographer, the Rev. John Sargent, has marked it with beautiful precision in the close of that memoir. Oh! that all the world would study that short memoir! it speaks what I would, if I were able, speak in the ear of every human being day and night. May God of His infinite mercy give me more abundantly to experience this heavenly disposition; and may all that I have written be blessed of Him to the producing of this holy disposition in others. Amen, and Amen.”