Letters, 1833–1834

Letters — To Rev. J. Venn on Presenting him to a LiTing — To the Same on the Proper Discharge of the Ministry — To Lady Olivia B. Sparrow on Recovery from Illness — MemoFandum on the Completion of his Works — Sutement of his Views about them — To the Bishop of Calcutta on presenting them to the Kin — Rev. W. Marsh’s Remarks on the occasion — To Rev. E. B. Elliott on the Loss of his Wife — To a Clergyman respecting his Preaching and Conduct — Extracts from his Diary enumerating his the Bidhop of Calcutta — His Thoughts on the Prospect of Death — To a Friend under Depression — To Miss Mary EiRott on his Secret Experience — To the Same on the Riaht Standard of Christian Exoelleace — To Rev. J. B. Caitwright on the’ Effects of Religion in its Rise and Progress.

1833 — 1834.

GORKESPONDENCE, ETC.

To the Rev. J. Venn, on presenting him to a Living.

“April 15, 1833.

“My dear Friend, —

“I wrote you yesterday. My soul is filled with deep concern. I long that with the wisdom of your honored father you should comoiqe the zeal and love of your grandfather. He knew at Corinth nothing but Christ and Him crucified. And what is there else for you to know at Hereford 7 Speak all that the Scripture speaks, and as the Scripture speaks it: and leave all nice distinctions alone. You are a physician, going to thou* sands dying of the cholera, and have a sovereign remedy for them. Think of nothing else but the remedy. Get into the spirit of the Apostle Paul. Think what he would say and do in your circumstances. Souls are perishing for lack of knowledge. I wish you had known your honored grandfather. The only end for which he lived was to make all men see the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

My dear friend, let that be ‘your one labor with alU and every day and every hour. I shall die a happier man, if I see you rising superior to all minor points, and wholly engrossed with this. ’ With earnest prayer to God for you, I remain, my dear friend, your most anxious and afiTectionate brother. C Simeon.’’

To the same, on the proper discharge of the Ministry.

«K.Ct April 25, 1833.

“My dear Brother, —

You say, ‘If it were new ground, you would feel no doubt about occupying it; but’ &c. &;c.

416 ON THE MINISTET. [cHAP. XXXI.

Whence do these &c/s spring? I know full well to what our deceitful hearts would ascribe them; but carry them to God, and see whether He will approve them.

What would love to Cfod’s Church and people say?

“What should we ourselves- say, if we could forget self? Is it when we are strong in our own conceit, that we are really strong? Get comprehensive views and an abiding sene of the height, and depth, and length, and breadth, of the love of Christt and what will your &c.’s come to?

“You are an ambassador of the Most High God, sent to entreat sinners, with floods of tears, to be reconciled to him. Think of this, and say, what your &c.’s come to T Ask yourself what would be the views and feelings of the Apostle Paul, or of his son Timothy, in your circumstances, or what the feelings of your most honored, most loved most revered grandfather 7 and blush at all that has arisen in your mind to discourage your acceptance of the post.

“Let me not grieve you by this fidelity. I have made myself responsible to Almighty God for 4000 souls; and I long that the love of Christ should * constrain you,’ (carry you away as a mighty torrent,) to make known to them the glorious Gospel of the blessed God, in all its unsearchable riches, and excellency, and glory. Away with every minor consideration, and with every (talseiy supposed) humble thought Be a voice crying in the wilderness: be a child: be a fool, in your own estimation at least, and then you will be content to be esteemed so by others. Discard utterly from your itoind all wherein they may aiffer from you. There is the whole field of the Gospel before you: be to them the angel spoken of Rev. xiv. 6, 7: and teach them all to commence the song which they are singing. Rev. v. 6, 10: and then I shall hope one day to join with you in singing it, accompanied with a goodly number from Hereford.

“Tell me that I have not grieved you, or at least that you forgive me; and believe me your most truly affectionate friend and brother, C. Simeon.”

To Lady Ouvia B. Sparrow, on his recovery from illness.

«K.C.,AprUl3, 1833.

My dear Ladv Olivia, —

For fifteen months I went on with my work, with all* the energy and activity of youth, revising and correcting one of my ponderous volumes every three weeks. But I had no sooner completed the twentieth volume, than the gout came, and threw me down, and compelled me to transfer my editorial work to othei*s. But in fact, all that I was in the least anxious about was completed. I am carried up and down stairs on men’s shoulders

and put into and taken out of my carriage like a log of wood. But I can now walk two or three yards alone; and hope, if it be possible, to be helped up to my pulpit to-morrow. I do indeed doubt whether it be possible: of that I shall judge better when 1 get to church. But my judgment scarcely approves of the dictates of my heart.

“This will be but too just an apology for my declining your kind invitation for the present. I doubt much the possibility of my going up to town a fortnight hence to the Jews’ meeting: (the other meetings it will be quite impossible for me to attend;) but what my friend Mr. Way so nobly upheld, and what I know from Scripture to be so near to the heart of my Lord and Saviour, (Jer. xxxii. 41,) I must strain every nerve to support.

It would greatly rejoice me to see Lady Gosford: but, except at Cambridge, I cannot hope for that pleasure at present. I am but just out of my physician’s hands; and though convalescent, must have some time to recover the energies either of my mind or body.

‘* I am sorry to hear that your eyes are weak; and I earnestly hope that the relaxation of their wonted labors for the body will be improved by turning them in more steadily upon the inward man, and fixing them more intensely on Him who died for us upon the cross, and ever lives to make intercession for us at the right hand of God. Standing, as I do, on the very brink and precipice of the eternal world, I desire nothing so much as a broken and contrite spirit. I would (I had almost said) rather have that than pardon itself; because that honors God, whilst pardon only benefits me. I hang upon the Saviour, as actually perishing without this unbounded mercy and unintermitted care. I look to Him as the very chief of sinners; and in this frame of mind I find perfect peace.

May grace, mercy, and peace, be ever multiplied to you, my very dear friend, through the knowledget)f that adorable Saviour! This is the most earnest prayer of, my dfear Lady Olivia, your most aectionate friend, C. Simeon.’’

Memorandum on the completion of his Work.

“May 24, 1333.

This day God has vouchsafed to me the two richest blessings (next to the enjoyment of himself) that my soul could desire:

1. I have this day received from the Archbishop of Canterbury his permission to dedicate my work to him:

2. I have this day received the last five volumes, and see the work complete — the ship launched. This last was the only thinff for which I wished to Jive, so to speaky and I now sing my lunc dimittis.^^

416 KEMAKKB UPON HIS WORKS. [cHAP. XXXI.

The following statement, respecting the nature and object of his Works, was drawn up by Mr. Simeon when first contemplating the publication of them entire in a stereotyped edition.

“Having attained the age of man, and consequently looking for speedy disBoliMioD, I think it not inexpedient to leave hehind me a statement of what has been nir object in the woriLs which I have published, and which, either before I die or soon after, will probably be printed in 90 volumes, leaving my improvement of Claudes Estay as a separate publication.

I am far from saying that I have attained my object; but it will be well that my views and endeavors be distinctly stated.

/ have aimed tU

1. Unity. — So that there should be but one subject in every discourse; and that subject be the veiy * mind of the Spirit,’ in every text throughout the whole work. I think that every sermon should have, like a telescope, but one object in the field.

3. Conlintdh/. — They appear, on account of the divimons, artificial; but I have endeavored that they should be simplicity itself: and it will be found that they will read as well without divisions (1. 2. ^.) a with them: but, in my judgment, the divisions help the audience to understand and remember the discourses much better than they would do, if such aids were not afibrded them.

3. Pertinency. — So that no other text in the Bible will suit the discourse. Hub enables the audience to «nter more fully into the meaning of God’s Word, when they read it at home.

The ancients used to say, that in every stone there was a man; and that if only you chipped off the block, out would come the man. So say I of every text. Every text has its proper subject, which should be brought forth, without mutilation or addition of any kind. The man, whatever his position be, has an identity that distinguishes him from all others. And so it should be in every sermoo on every text; the whole matter should be brought out of the text, as the whole man, without the addition of a finger or a toe, is formed in the stone. ’

4. Diversiiy. — They comprehend all Claude’s modes of composition — by Explication — ^bv Observation — by Propositions — and by Perpetual Application. Even the mode of taking a text for a motto, which Claude does not mention, and which as a general mode I ffreatly disapprove, is used in all my University Sets; because then I had one subject for four or five sermons.

5. FhUness. — I have endeavored that full Scripture light should be thrown on every text and every subject

6. Number. — There are so many, that if one discourse be read every day without inintermission, they will occupy the reader eeven yeare. And, if this appear too nu* Dierous, the advantages of it are, that a miniaUr will find a discourse on every text he would wish to treat, ^jiAfamiliea will find my book a comment on the vfwU I^ible,

7. CanciMtneae. — Allowing twenty-five discourses as the average number for a common volume of sermons, there will be found in my twenty volumes what, in the ordinary way of publishing, would fill one hundred volumea!

8. Perspicuity. — The common fault of brevity is obscurity. These, by the mode of printing the leading thoughts in larger characters, will be seeq and comprehended Dy a single glance of the eye, and will convey to the reader in one moment the whole subject from beginning to end.

9. Cheapneae. — For ten guineas, the purchaser has what in the ordinary mode of printing would cost him j{^. I will further mention what I hope will be found, their

10. U»e. — To facilitate the composition of sermons,
n. Tendency.

1. To raise the tone of preaching throughout the land.

2. To promote a candid, lil)eral, and consistent mode of explaintng the Scriptures.

3. 7b weaken tU laaett if wA eradiaUef the disputee about Cahiniem and Amuniaiiism; and thue to rtcommendy to the iitmoet qf my power the unhampered tiberaUfy the Churth of England.

18. Bfeet.

I. To impart to young ministers a clear view of the Gospel. 3. To help them to an inward experience of it in their own souls. Of course it cannot be expected that I should have attained the same measure of sue-CMS in all. But I have labored to attain it in all: and those which appear tho i pie have in ouuiy caiet cost me moct labor. My endeavor has been so to simplify everything, quod sibi quims tptrel idem; and perhaps I may add, mtdet muUum frustratpu ,kiforei. There are veiy few which I have not ibnned in a variety of different ways, before I fixed upon the putn which I have finally adopted. I woula recommend no person to use them servilely. A mere tvro may study one discourse first, and then write for himself in his own language the substance of it. But, after a few months, he will do better to form his own plan first, and then consult what is here written. He will then acquire originality both of thought and method, and soon becooM a * workman that needeth not to be ashamed.’ Yet, to the end of his days, I would entreat him to retain in his compositions

Unity in his subject,

PergpicuUy in his arrangement, and

Simplicity in his diction; for without these the great mass of his audience will derive no profit firom his labon.

To the Bishop of Calcutta, on presenting his Works to the King.

“King’s College, Cambridge, July 3, 1833.

My beloved and most honored Friend and Brother, —

.... •’For fifteen months Lcontinued, with the intervention only of one single day, to revise and correct the press, and in that time finished twenty volumes. Then came a fit of the gout, which necessitated me to devolve that labor for the last volume on others. But that volume had been so thoroughly prepared

by me, that I could not, so far as I am aware, have altered a single thick volumes in sixteen months — (an expedition never known or

e word. It was all finished in sixteen months — twenty-one

heard of in the writings of a private man.) I wrote to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who readily permitted me to dedicate it to him: by means of which it will abate prejudice at home, and facilitate the reception of it abroad amongst all the foreign courts to which I send it. A fortnight ago this day, I had the honor of presenting the work to his maiesty before the levee, at a private audience. The king received me very courteously, and told me he should convey them with him to Windsor, meaning that he should have more time to look at them there than in London. To both the archbishops I presented them. With his Grace of Canterbury I had a long and deep and interesting conversation, upon the true character of religion, as suited both to the necessities and capacities of men. He entered fully into my statements, and cordially concurred with me in them. The Archbishop of York was a fellow of All Souls’ together with my brother, Sir J. S. And. a curious circumstance occurred. I had presented my books to him the day before I presented them to the king: and whilst I was with his majesty, his name was announced. On leaving the king, I met him in the ante-room, and he shook me cordially by the hand, and told me he had been reading my book with pleasure. And in two minutes afterwards he was with the king, with the books before him, so that doubtless, he would impress his majesty’s* mind favorably respecting them. Who can

420 PREBSNTAtlON OF HIS WORKS. [cHAP. XXXI.

tell what good may result from this 7 The queen at least, I hope, may reap some good from them.

All the foreign ambassadors have undertaken to transmit them to their respective courts. Prince Talleyrand has already sent his to Paris. At Cambridge an extraordinary effect has been wrought And St. John’s College has written me the following letter, which is incomparably the most grateful to me of any that I have yet received.

* I am desired by the mMter and aenionto retarn to you their heaitfelt thanka lor your ▼ery valuable present to the Library of St. John’s College; viz., “A Copy of your entire Works.”

‘I am sure you will readily believe, that the master and fellows most cordially join in the wish and prayer, you have been so kind to prefix in your own hand-writing to the coi^sent.*

‘They also sincerelv hope that you may be yet along time spared to labor in the aerviee of our Divine Master.’’

‘* Now if this change alone were wrought in a college so extensively influential, it were worth all the labor and expense I have bestowied on my plan of presentations.... The next circumstance is, the vice-chancellor himself called upon me, to desire me to let him nominate me as one of the select preachers for next year. Now when I preached the sermons on the Gospel, and gave notice in them tnat I considered a set of sermons on the Holy Spirit necessary to complete my plan, it was seven years before another turn was offered me, and then only when the vice-chancellor and one of the proctors were of my own college, and the other proctor my friend. I declined accepting his offer, because I judged it wiser and better in every view to antedate old age, than to run any risk of exposing myself and paining others, by any unconscious display of my augmented senile infirmities. But the offer itself is a token oi God s merciful acceptance of my efforts to serve Him, and a strong incentive to me to devote myself to Him, as long as any power shall be vouchsafed to me, even to my dying hour. I do not however, as you see, forget the lesson I inculcate, * Prudence.’

*’ We have had a large assembly of philosophers here, both British and foreign: ana their exhibitions have gone off well. But one atom of heavenly science is in my estimation preferable to all that they brought forth. And so St. Paul thought, when he counted all but dross and dung for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ.t

*’A Present from the Author,

in the humble hope,

and with earliest prayer to God,

that bis efforts to diffuse

the knowledge of Christ

with all the wonders of

Redeeming Love
may not be m vain.”

i Mr. Simeon, lu»w«v«r, was by no means indifferent to tUb ad* You will hear with grief what loss the Church and the world have sustained by the death of Mr. Sargent. He lived just to finish Mr. Thomason’s Memoir, and then passed into the heavens, after an illness of only six days. I went instantly to join my tears with those of his afflicted widow, and found her as near a counterpart of Job as has existed since the apostles’ days. Her only surviving son has been repeatedly near death both before and since; and all that the fond mother desires is, to see him fully prepared to jom her departed husband in his songs of joy.** -

From the Rev. W. Marsh to Mr. Simeon, on his presentation

to the king.

“Joty 6, 1833.

My beloved Brother, —

‘Seest thou a man diligent in his business? he shall stand before kings.’ (Prov. xxii. 29:) e. g. Mr. Simeon at court. So the Courier informs me, and I believe it; and therefore thank God. You have never preached on this text; and now you will be afraid to do it. Not because you have not experienced its truth, but because you have.”

To the Rev. E. B. Elliott, on the death of his wife.

K. C, June 8, 1833.

My dear Friend and Brother, —

‘* I weep over the sad dispensation with which, as beloved Mary informs me, you are visited. It was but the other day, that I was called to blend my tears with those of my dearest friend Mrs. Sargent, and now they are called for in your behalf. Truly it is a vale of tears that we are passing through; and it is not till we reach a better world, that they will be finally wiped away from our eyes. But in one thine I cannot enter into the general feeling. It is generally adduced as a ground of additional commiseration, that there are four motherless children left to the care of the bereaved father. I might admit this idea, though even then with difficulty, if the surviving parent had no means for their support: but where such pressure did not exist, I should rather think that every pledge of love which the survivor possessed would be a sweet memorial of the deceased: and that in the exercise of love towards them, there was one continued exercise of love towards that object, wnich, though corporeally beyond

and had sreat pleasure in attending these meetings of the British Association. In Kis oocasionalseasons of leisure he had peculiar pleasure in reading works of a philosophic character; and when recovering from a severe illness, a vear after this, the volume wnich he most enjoyed, next after the Holy Scriptures, was the Bridgewater Treatise by Dr. Whewell, on Astronomy and General Physics; which was read over to him more Hum once, as he was able at mtervals to hear it

422 ADVICE TO A CLEROTMAN. [CHAF* XXZI.

my reach, was mentally in my very arms and in rpy heart. I

Smite found it so when I was tit Mrs. Sargent’s. The dearest riend I had on earth was gone, but in my exercise of love towards his bei’eaved widow and children, I felt that I had him with me; and I poured my soul, as it were, into his bosom as I had been wont to do, only of course with that diversity of feeling which the occasion callea for. I grant that the cases are widely, I might say infinitely, different; yet I do know, from daily experience, that relics how worthless soever in themselves, are capable of bringing to the mind a feeling of love towards distant and even departed objects, and of softening, even whilst they renew, the anguish of bereavement More especially where the mind is assured of the happiness of the departed object, I conceive that there is a legitimate scope for such feelings as these. Still, however, as I have never been placed in your circumstances, I am not sure that this letter does not call for an apology on my part. If it strike you so, I pray you to forgive nie. I do not mean to sing songs to a heavy heart, but to oind up, as God may enable me, and to heal a broken spirit: and if I have erred, impute it to nothing but misdirected love.

“Beloved Mary has desired me to write to you, but I feel my utter incompetency to do so. To enter on the common topics of consolation would be unnecessary, and almost impertinent in the present case. If these few lines only express my sympathy with you, and show you what balm I would pour into your wounded spirit, if it were in my power, they will so far fulfil the desire of, my dear friend,

Your most affectionate brother in the Lord,

C. Simeon-**

To a Clergyman, on his preaching and conduct.

“k, C^ July, 2, 1833.

“My dear Friend, —

“I am most thankful to you for your kind letter, and for the information respecting things around you. My answers to you shall be at all times with the most entire and most affectionate freedom, yet at the same time confidential; because I should not wish to be quoted, as taking views of things directly opposite to any of my brethren, unless I were present to state my sentiments with precision, and to show that I was actuated only by truth and love.

“In your letter you refer to two things as disapproved by some. And first, your preaching. — Now I certainly think that religious people are too much addicted to l)uman systems. Scarcely any one is aware that Calvinism and Arminianism are equally true, if rightly applied, and equally false, if pressed to extremes. Each party is apt to d6gmatize, and to manifest a degree of intolerance m relation to the other.

Your part with respect to all of them is to please them if you can; but only so far as is for their good, and to their real edification. I would run after nothing and shun nothing. Be not afraid of speaking all that Gkpd has spoken in His word, or of giving to every word of His the measure of weight and emphasis and preponderance, that it has in the inspired writings. The instant that you are afraid or averse to do this, you stand self-condemned, as sitting in judgment upon Him, from whom every word has been inspired for the good of the Church. I have always regretted tnat a friend of yours and mine could not see

his way more clear in this respect And I hope you will be

enabled to ’ preach the word’ freely and fully without any fear of man, or partiality for human systems.

But I highly approve of the difference you make on different occasions. 1 think I mentioned in a former letter, 1 Cor. iii. 2, to which I may add Heb. v. 12, 14, and vi. 1 — 3. Do not these passages show that we are to consider the capacity of our hearers to receive instruction 7 There is even among good people a sad want of love to those who are less instructed than themselves. You will not fiud.one in twenty that would * love such a character as the rich youth, who thought he had kept all the commandments, and at last forsook our Lord rather than surrender up his riches. I would not have you withhold the strongest meat from those who are able to digest it, but I would select proper seasons for administering it, and if administered at a time when there were persons present who were likely to be choked by it, I would administer it with that measure of tenderness towards the weak, that should at least convince them that I was anxious for their welfare. In relation to all these matters, take counsel not of fear but of love. Whatever be the number or quality of your counsellors, always put love in the chair, and give him a casting vote.

“Now for, secondly, your conduct. — Here again I quite agree with you. There is among religious people a kind of Popish infallibility. Every one thinks his own line straight, and that of ail who differ from him crooked. A man that has scarcely ever stirred out of a retired village, fancies himself able tQ judge all other Christians, in whatever line they move. In fact, there is among them a strong propensity to uncharitable judging, and a disposition to say to others, * Stand off, I am holier than thou.’ I would not have you brought into bondage by them, I would have you so to move, as to conciliate the feelings at least, if not the regards, of adversaries. I think in a former letter I touched on this also. Had our blessed Lord acted like the Pharisees, who kept all others at a distance, he would never have been called the friend of publicans and sinners. The point for you to judge of is this: What is my motive in this or that concession? If it be to remove prejudice, for the good of others, it will brmg no evil consequence along with it. If you act under the influence of sdf-

424 ENDMERATIOIV OF MKKCIE8. [cHAP. XXZI.

denying love you will sustain no injury: but the very instant you find pleasure in worldly company, you are got off from Christian ground. The affecting of friendship with the world is virtual enmity against God: and the love of the world is a decisive evidence that the love of God is not in us. But are we therefore to act as if we hated all who are not of our party? If a blackamoor fall into the water, shall we make no enort to save him, because he is not a white man like ourselves? I should rather say, the circumstance of another person differing from me both in faith and practice, ought to make me earnest, by all possible condescension and love, to avail myself of any opportunity to set him right. Tet I would not carry this so far as to make it doubtful on whose side I am. I would be the Christian everywhere: and though I would not lug in religion neck and shoulders, I would never leave any one to doubt a moment whose I am, and whom alone I serve.

Thus I have addressed myself, as briefly and as clearly as I could, to the questions you have been kind enough to submit to me, and most thankful shall I be to hear and know all that you can from time to time communicate, that I may have further opportunities of expressing my sentiments to you without reserve.

Tell me in your next whom you have with you. If your aunt and sister are with you, present to them my very kind regards* aild believe me, my dear friend,

“Your very affectionate brother in the Lord, C. Simeon.”

Extracts from his Diart enumerating his mercies.

“Nov. 4, 1833.

“What wonderful thinn have I been spared to behold! 1. Union and harmony and love throughout my whole parish, together with an inciWMW

ed attention to religion. 3. My jubilee completed, and kent with such devout affection.

3. My entire work out, presented, and, as far as I know, approved.

4. My church enlargins so as to hold 1 100 persons, and so beautiflil as to be the ornament, instead of the disgrace of the town.

5. My school-room built for God’s service, and now licensed for it. I preached then yesterday, not without many tears, on 1 Cor. ix. 16.

6. St Mary’s given to the entire management of Mr. C, and at least 1900 hearers. I preached there on Sunday evening, !20th, to that number, on Rodl x%. 29.

7. Barnwell (Church) open to mc, I preached there on Sunday morning, 27th, on Lev. ii. 14 — 16.

8. St Mary’s now statedly open to m< in the mornings. Mr. C. is to read the piayers early in the morning on Sundays; and at 12 to read the Litany, and (Communion Service, when) I am to preach. It will commence on, Nov. 10. I intend to preach on Luke x. 23, 24. This will continue till my church is open, when I hope to preach at Trinity every Sunday morning, and at St Mary’s in the evening. Never did I lonff more to spend and be spent for the Lord than at this moment Blessed beGodr

Nov. 14 This day has Mr. H consented to let me preach at St Botolph*s ereiy

Thursday. How ineredibU UaUtkUF*

After one brief remark made Dec. 18, 1833, there are no more entries till Sept. 22, 1834, when the following occurs:

Sept 38, 1834. This interral shows my taste for Diaries. But if I could pat down on

Eaper a just account of God’s meides to me, this hook would not suffice to relate one nndredth part of them. The last day of April, after three months’ illness, I was all but gone. ... At St. Mary’s and St. Botolph’s, I have resumed my ministry with almost my ^rmer energy; and have laiee congregations at both. And if I live to Oct. 12, 1 shall re- open Trinity Church. In what terms could I adequately describe these things 1 But I do bless God for them from my inmost soul.”

To the Bishop of Calcutta, on the prospect of death.

“Cambridge, May 21, 1834.

“My beloved and honored Brother, —

*’ About six weeks ago I sent to your son, to entreat that he would write to inform you, why you had not heard from me in answer to yOur letter received about the beginning of February. At that time I was taken with the gout, and having preached twice at St. Mary’s on February 15, the- disorder came on so violently, that for the space of about twelve weeks I was as incapable of doing anything for myself, even the moving an inch on one side or the other on my bed, as an infant. My pains, after about the first three weeks, were, through the tender mercy of God, scarcely worthy of a thought; but my whole fram was reduced to a perfect skeleton t and repeatedly was I considered as at the point of death. On this day three weeks, I was reported, and not without reason, as dead. But on May Ist (this is 2l8t) there seemed as if a new turn was given to my disorder. From that time I have been recovering; and from not being able at one time even to write my name, am now engaged in the sweet employ of writing to my beloved friends. You will ask me, perhaps, what Was my frame of mind during this state of nearness to the eternal world? And I am happy to say, that I found my principles quite able to sustain me. I have taught others, that there is not so much as a sparrow that falls to the ground without our heavenly Father’s special appointment, nor any one thing which shall not work for the good of His chosen people: and these things I was so enabled to realize, as to have my soul kept in perfect peace. Throughout the whole time, I was strengthened to rest on God as my Covenant God and Father, and to believe that His covenant was ’ ordered in all things and sure.’ The times the measure, the duration, the issu of my illness were all in His hands; and I was content, yea thankful, yea joyful, to leave them there, and to wait His will whatever it might be. As for joyful anticipations of the blessedness of heaven, neither the labit of my mind, nor the state of my body, nor indeed the character of tny religion, (the religion of a sinner at the foot of the. cross,) led to them: to be * kept in perfect peace,’ was more in accordance with my wishes, and that mercy God richly vouchsafed unto me: and I hope that, if restored to any measure of health and strength, I shall be enabled more than ever to live for God, and to the glory of His great name.

426 ON BEUOldUB DEP1B8SION. [cHAP. XXZI.

I am not fond of talking of self: but I have thought that to say thus much was due to you. This, however, T will say in con* firmation of my views, that God confirmed His word with an oath, on purpose that those who flee to Christ for refuge might have strong consolation; and in comnfiendation of my views, (namely, of God, as a Covenant God, who would have us regard Him especially in that view,) that irf Lev. ii. 13, He particularly and STRONGLY ENJOINS US, cvcu in our most common approaches to Him, to come to Him under that very character: * thou shalt not suffer the salt of the covenant of thy God to be lackmg in thy meat-offering.’ Now if the Jews were to bear in mind continually God’s covenant with Abraham, and their redemption Mn Egypt, d fortiori are we, after what has been done for us in Christ Jesus; this being the one source*of all the benefits we enjoy, and the sure

f round on which we may hope for their continuance. In a word, felt and do feel, that in God, and in God alone, I have all that I can need: and therefore my eyes are turned to Him always — Him exclusively — Him without a shadow of a doubt. Were’I to look at Him through the medium of ray own experience, it would be like looking at the sun through the medium of the waters: the sun in that case would appear to move as the water undulates; whereas, when viewed in Himself alone, He is uniformly and steadily the same, without any variableness or shadow of turning.’’

To a Friend under religious depression.

“My dear Madam, —

“I think I may say with truth, that this is, properly speaking, the first leisure hour I have had since your letter was put into my hands at Mr. Bickersteth’s, and it is with much pleasure I embrace the opportunity to reply to it. But could I nave enjoyed half-an- hour’s conversation with you, I could have replied far better than in a thousand letters. Worfls on paper are as a painted sun m comparison of words uttered from the inmost soul, and breathed out with a divine unction: they carry with them none of that heavenly warmth and that sympathetic tenderness, with which I would gladly have poured them into your bosoiyi. Besides, there are turns in conversation which flash conviction upon the mind, and carry consolation to the soul, that no dissertation can do. Your case is a common case: but every case has some peculiarities which call for some ingredient to be blended with the general prescription, and which are only elicited in conversation. 1 suppose there is not a physician in the universe that would not prefer half-an-: hour’s conversation with a patient, before the most elaborate statement that could be drawn up. Much more should I prefer it, because the very same words convey a dififerent and almost opposite idea to my mind, according to

OHAP. XZXI.] ON AFFIANCE. 427

the manner in which they are spoken. Shall I say, words are spoken as also they are written in cold blood. Could I ascend with you into our Father s presence, and fetch fire from the altar before the throne, — or, to change the metaphor, could our souls be tuned by the same Divine hand, — I should understand and feel every note you strike. But I feel I understand nothing of your case, except as far as words ill comprehended can convey it to my mind. Your case in few words is this: *I was once in earnest about my soul: I have since declined: I feel «but cold at this moment, and unhumble3, whilst confessing what ought to humble me in the dust. What must I do to get myself Quickened in the divine life, and stimulated to run the race set before me V The general answer to this would be, * Be much in reading the Holy Scriptures and in heavenly meditations: be much in prayer to God through Christ; read the promises and refy upon them, and cast yourself entirely on Christ as able and willing to save you to the uttermost.’ To that purpose I might speak at large; but yet I should say nothing which you do not already know as well as I can tell you. I will therefore waive all which I suppose you already to be well acquainted with, and which by far is the most important, and will touch only on what may not have presented itself to your notice. There are two errors which are common to persons. in your state: 1st, The using of means, as though by the use of them< they could prevail; and 2ndly, The not using them, because they have so long been used in vain. The error consists in putting the means too much in the place of Christ, and in expecting from exertion what is only gained by affiance. There is a passive state of mind — a lying like clay in the hands of the potter, — and a casting yourself on the Lord Jesus Christ, content to sink, if He will let you sink, and to be marred, if He choose to mar you. This willingness to be saved by Him altogether from first to last, and in His own time and way, and this determination to trust in Him though He slay you, and to praise Him though He condemn you, is what you particularly want. You would fain have the Jcnowkdge of your acceptance of Him, when you should rather be concerned to insure that acceptance. I know not whether this will convey any idea to your mind, but if it do, it will prove of some service to you.

“There is another. thing which I would suggest, which is intimately connected with that, namely, that you are too much occupied in looking at yourself, and too little in beholding the Lord Jesus Chist It is by the former you are to be humbled; but it is by the latter that you are to be * changed into the Dioine image* (2 Cor. iii. 18.) You want a greater measure of holiness to warrant your confidence in the divine promises; when it is only by apprehending those promises that you can attain the holiness you are seeking after, (2 Cor. vii. 1.) You must learn to * glory in your infirmities, (so to speak,) that the power of Christ may rest

428 ON ADORATION. [cHAP. XXZI.

upon you, You are nothing, and it discourages you; but you must be content to be nothing, that Christ may oe ’ all in all.’ I grieve, my dear madam, that I am not able to counsel you as I could wish; and with earnest prayer to God that my weak suggestions may not be in vain, I remain Your very affectionate and sympathizing friend.

To Miss Mary Elliott, on his secret Experience.

K. C^ Maj 21, 1834.

My beloved Mary, —

I could not but weep over your kind and affectionate letter, insomuch that my constant attendant said to me, ‘Sir, I fear you have some bad news to-day.’ I thank you most tenderly for all the expressions of your love, of which, alas f I feel myself most unworthy. You evidently do not know my state. It is that of a poor sinner before God — it is that which I ever expected it to be — and in fact ever wished it to be. Any other would be utterly unsuiled to my whole life. I am, I feel T am, a brand plucked out of the burning. But oh! what dreadful marks of the tire upon me to this hour! None but infinite power could ever fit it for a place in His temple. I do believe God’s power suflicient; and I believe the whole plan, which Infinite Wisdom has devised for the accomplishment of this great object, is sufficient for the attainment of it. But I cannot forget what I am — I do not desire to forget what I am — I am even, so to speak, satisfied with being what I am, that God may be the more glorified. Of course, you will not understand me as saying, that I do not wish to be more holy and heavenly, but simply that, seeing that I am what I am, I am willing, yea, desirous that God should be glorified in the salvation of the very chief 5f sinners.’ I remember to have shown you a little paper expressing the different parts of religion, Ist, as revealed in the Bible; 2nd, as experienced in the soul; yd, as operating towards man; 4th, as operating towards God; eac& in one word; the word for the last was Adoration; for then God is in His place, and the sinner in his. This is my posture, and. I would have it as deep as possible. If Job, after seeing God as it were with his eyes, abhorred himself and repented in dust and ashes, what frame can be so fit for me? Young persons, to whom reconciliation with God is quite a novelty, may have great ebullitions of joy; and others, who have a vivid imagination, may so up to heaven and behold all the glory of it, and join with the heavenly choir in their songs of praise. / have no imagination, — I never had: plain, simple truth has been more in accordance with the natural construction of my mind, and more suited to my taste; and I am inclined to think that God deals with men in a way suited to their constitutional feelings or acquired habits. I do not therefore regret my want of devout and joyful anticipations;

OHAP. XXXI.] ON ADORATION IN RELIGION. 429

for I had peace without a moment’s interruption, even the peace that passeth all understanding. But this I bitterly reigret; viz., a want of divine savor on my soul, a want of tenderness of spirit, a want of devout admiration and gratitude. These have solely a respect to God as a part of adoration; but the anticipations of glory have more respect to ourselves, and the blessedness that awaits us. Therefore, as having less to do with the imagination and with self, I prefer the hame and confusion of face, which I am conscious my whole life calls for, and which is less open to delusion of any kind. Yet I do not condemn or despise the things which I lack: I can easily conceive them to be high manifestations of a meetness for heaven: but I am not grieved that they do not enter into, and much less characterize, my experience. I have often wished that there were more of holy reverence in religious people when speaking of God, and of the things which He has wrought for their salvation. I see not an instance of any remarkable manifeststion of God to man, which did not instantly generate in his heart, and produce in his act, a lowly reverence and self-abasement; and L cannot but think that the nearer we approach to the eternal world, the more that feeling should be wrought within us. If I recollect aright, I showed you and your mamma a paper which I drew up for the satisfaction of poor

Mr., who thought that my frequent sighs and groans were

indications of something habitually and essentially wrong in my conduct.* Nothing but the satisfying of a brother would have induced me to put to paper the inward experience of my souK To such accusers we are indebted for almost all that we know of Paul’s experience. Having written it, I judged it on the whole right not to destroy it, because after my death it may be of some little use to the Church of God. But that is a fac simile of this letter, only that it op&ns distinctly the reasons of my experience, and the frame of mind which I expect on my admission into heaven, if ever I be admitted there; and if you can call anything of it to remembrance, you will see that my last end is in perfect accordance with it.” ....

To the same on the right standard of Christian excellence.

“K. C, Camb., Nov. 31, 1834.

*’ My beloved Mary, —

I had been thinking of writing to you or to your mamma: for I thought your long silence, and the silence of every one respecting you, were an unmvorable sign*. I have been often with you in your pains, and have wished that I could by any means pour a little balm into your wounds. But the habitual consolations of my own mind have been constantly prevalent in relation to you. I have very little to do with second causes, except in a

See Uiis paper, p. 303.

430 ON CHKISTfAN EXPEBIBNCB. [cBAP. XXZI.

way of prudential care. Why should we not see, what we actaally know, that not a hair of our head falls without our heavenly PatheVs express direction T This sight — this full conviction — I have sought on your behalf, as well as on my own; though I have felt how different this conviction is to you in a state of anguish* from what / have found it in a state of mere inanity. The exercise of judgment, so to speak, has sufficed for me; whilst for you a more special and abundant communication of race was necessary. Yet there was the same sufficiency in our Father’s hand and bosom for both of us; and the same fidelity to all His promises.

As to the particular exercises of our mind, whether more or less joyful at such seasons, I am not anxious. I have again and again opened to my beloved Mary my sentiments and feelings on this subject: and I will do it yet again, because of their extreme importance in my mind, and because I do not recollect to have seen or heard them dilated upon with the fulness and accuracy which they deserve. There are certain truths, of which I never would be unconscious at any moment: 1st, I am a creaturje — a mere worm: 2nd, I am a sinner, whose guilt exceeds all that can be expressed or conceived: yd, I am redeemed by the blood of God’s only dear Son, and completely reconciled to my God and Father. Now then, I wish ever to have a creature-like spirit; a sinner-like spirit; and a saint-like spirit: no One of these wouki I lose for a moment: nor would I suffer any one of them to swallow up the rest. I admire not that self-annihilation, which is the essence of mysticism, and which takes off the mind from its real dtate before God: nor do I admire that depression, which sinks a person into the depths of despondency: nor yet do I covet that indecent familiarity with God, which exalts one almost into a state of equality with Him, and makes me half forgetful of what I am as a creature and a sinner. I would have the whole of my ex|)erience one continued sense — 1st, of my nothingness, and dependence on God: 2nd, of my guiltiness, and desert before Him: yd, of my obligations to redeeming love, as utterly overwhelming me with its incomprehensible extent and grandeur. Now I do not see why any one of these should swallow up another: nay, I am extremely jealous of that experience which divests us of any one of them. That they are separable in imagination, like the rays of light, I well know: but that they should be combined in action, I am well convinced: and I the rather say this, because r would have ray beloved Mary established upon somewhat of the same basis. I do think that Christian experience is not generally understood by the Christian world, and that much is looked for in a dying hour, which is, to say the least, not necessary, and perhaps not desirable. Yet I give this my judgment with great deference; for, after all, it may be only the result of the low stat# of my own soul. Yet, where to look for an earthly instructor I know not Your dear honored grandfather would have been a

great comfort to me in relation to this matter. But whether I am right or not, according to the highest standard of Christian excellence, of this I am sure that my sentiments are safCf and that they are capable of supporting me in a dying hour. ’

“I have been laid aside again both with a cold and the gout; but, beyond all expectation, am so recovered, that I hope to be found in my place on Sunday morping next. My beloved Mary, you in the absence.of your honored grandfather, may help me to form my mind and judgment. In two words, my desire is, 1st, never to forget for a moment what / am: and 2ndly, never to forgfet for a moment what God is. Tell me your mind, and believe me very affectionately yours, C. S.”

To the Rev. J. B. Cartwrioht, on the effects of Religion iaits rise and progress:

“K.C., Oct.29, 1834.

My dear Friend, —

In compliance with the request which you made me yesterday, respecting the observations which I had offered on the preceding evening to a large number of undergraduates, that were assembled to hear from yourself and Mr. Bickersteth an account of the work going forward through the instrumentality of the London Society for promoting Christianity amongst ‘the Jews, I take up my pen to give you in few words the substance of my address.

“I had expressed my gratitude to Almighty God for the great increase of attention which was visibly paid by them to this generally neglected subject: and I traced it to what I conceived to be its true cause, an increase of Scriptural knowledge, and of vital godliness among them.

“Religion, I observed, in its first rise in the heart, is a personal matter between God and a man’s own soul. A man desirous of obtaining mercy from God, and peace in his own conscience, reads the Scriptures in order to find out the way of salvation, and marks with special care those passages which assure him of acceptance with God through the merits and mediation of our Lord Jesus Christ.. For a considerable time it is his own eternal welfare which engrosses all his attention, and almost exclusively occupies his mind: and even the salvation of the whole world is of chief interest to him, as warranting a hope, thOT he himself may be a partaker of the blessings so freely offered, and so extensively diffused.

“But, when he has obtained peace with God, then he searches the Scriptures to find how he may adorn his holy profession, and render to the Lord according to the stupendous benefits that haf e been conferred upon him. He sees that love in all its branches is his bounden duty and his highest privile; and he accordingly

4S8 RISE AND PBOGEKSS OF BEUGJON. [cHAP. XXXI.

determines, with God’s help, to live in the most enlarged exercise of that heavenly grace, benevolence, in all its offices, both towards the bodies and souls of men, is now cultivated by him with holy ardor: and every society that is engaged in imparting good to man is gladly encouraged by him. Not only are schools for the education of the poor, and hospitals for the relief of the sick, become objects of his regard, but he extends his compassion to the Erishing heathen, and gladly unites with Bible Societies and ission Societies in their enbrts to spread Divine knowledge throughout the world, by the dispersion of the Holy Scriptures in all the vernacular languages of the earth, and by the labors of pious ministers.

As religion advances in his soul, he takes deeper views of divine truth, and enters into considerations which, in the earlier stages of his career, found scarcely any place in his mind. He now enters into the character of Jehovah as .displayed in the SaCred Volume, and his dispensations, both of providence and ace, as there revealed. He traces up the great work of redemption to the eternal counsels of Jehovah, and regards all its benefits, whether as conferred on himself or others, as the fruits of God’s love, manifested in Christ Jesus and ratified with the blood of the everlasting covenant. He sees that ’ covenant ordered in all things and sure;’ and looks unto God to fulfil towards him all tKe engagements which from eternity He entered into with His only dear Son, and founds his hopes of ultimate felicity, not only on the mercy, but on the truth and fidelity of God. He now begins to view with wonder the dealings of God with His ancient people, who fi-om the days of Abraham to the present moment have been such remarkable objects of His care. He sees their separation from all the rest of mankind, and their won* derful preservation as a peculiar people in all ages: he sees their miraculous redemption from Egypt, their establishment in the promised land, and their final expulsion from that land for their manifold transgressions, and especially for their murder of the Messiah. Whilst he beholds them dispersed through the world as objects of universal hatred and contempt, he contemplates God’s design to restore them in due season to their former inheritance, and to a state of piety and blessedness far exceeding anything, which, in their nationsd capacity, they ever possessed. He sees further, the connection which subsists between the restoration of that people, and th ‘salvation of the whole Gentile world; the latter being, in the Divine purpose, the effect and consequence of the former. Here, then, his mind becomes expanded, and his heart enlarged: and a fresh unthought-of line of duty opens itself to his view. Now he desires to co-operate with Gfod, so far as his feeble influence can extend, in the production of this great event; and he thankfully avails himself of any opportunity that is afforded him. to promote the eternal welfare of the Jews. His

CBAF. XXXI.] SISB AND PEOGRSS8 OF BEUOION. Mg

very love to the (xentile world streDgthens this desire, and encour ages him in the discharge of this grievously-neglected duty. He longs to see God’s glory advanced, and His purposes accomplished: and in his prayers, as well as in his efforts, he labors to hasten forward this glorious consummation; yea, he determines to ’ give God no rest, tiU he arise, and make Jerusalem a praise in the earth.’ Formerly he thought but little of conferring benefits on this despised people; but now seeing how nearly the honor of God and the salvation of the whole world are connected with their destinies, he accounts it his bounden duty to promote, by every means within his power, their restoration to the Divine favor. He is even astonished at himself, yes, and humbled too, that he has had such narrow and contracted views of his religious duties, in that he has passed over, as scarcely worthy of a thought, that mysterious dispensation, which St. raul has so clearly and fully developed in the eleventh chapter of his Epistle to the Romads, and in the contemplation of which he exclaimed, ‘O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God I How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!’ I say, he wonders at his own blindness and stupidity in having so overlooked that mystery, which St Paul cautioned us * on no account to remain ignorant of,’ and at his own indifference about that people for whom St. Paul felt such * continual heaviness and sorrow in his heart,’ that he was willing even to lay down his life for their welfare. And now he determines henceforth to redeem the time for the discharge of his duty towards them, that he may no longer subject himself to that anathema, which was denounced against the Ammonites and Moabites for not administering to the necessities of that people, who were the special objects of God’s peculiar care and favor.

‘* Thus, as it appears to me, the reason of this sacred cause having hitherto made but small progress in the land, in comparison of some other societies, is made clear. Religion in its rise interests us almost exclusively about ourselves: in its progress it engages us about the welfare of our fellouycreatures: in its more a^Lvanced stages it animates us to consult in all things, and to exalt to the utmost of our power the honor of our God.

Having now our eyes opened to see, what is so clearly revealed in the Scriptures of truth, that the restoration of God’s ancient people to His favor will be an occasion ‘of joy, {m to speak,) and of honor to God himself,’ (Jer. xxxiii. 9,) and the means of happiness and salvation to the whole world; (compare Rom. xi. 12, 16, with Jer. xxxiii. 7 — 9, and Psalm cii. 13 — 16: ‘SO the heathen shall fear thy name;’) and, above all, that God’s glory will be displayed by means of it with such brightness as shall perfectly eclipse all former manifestations of it, (Psalm cii. 16, with Isai. lxv. 17, 18, and Jer. iii. 16, 17,) — we cannot but feel ourselves bound to promote this great object to the utmost of our

484 1I8B AHD PEOOEBSB OF ULIOIOH. [cHAP. TXXU

Eiwer, and for that end to aid the efforts of the only society in ritain that has that object in view, The London Society foe peo-MOTINO of ChEIBTIANITT AMONGST THE JeWS.

The effect of the lower degrees of knowledge and piety is already seen in the land to a considerable extent in the ways I have iMsfore described it: and I cannot but hope, that, in proportion as religion shall be deepened in the hearts of our countrymen, this all-important cause will be espoused and cherished. by all ranks and orders of the community.

I am, my dear friend, most affectionately yours,

“C. Simeon.’*