Sermon 15
Some Account of the Choice
Experiences of Mrs. Anne Brine,
As Written by Herself, and Collected out of Her Letters
by Her Husband, John Brine
Printed for, and sold by John Ward,
at the Corner of Pope’s-
Head-Alley, in Cornhill; and by John Eynon, at a Print-Shop, on
the North Side of the Royal-Exchange,
Perceiving, that you are desirous to have an account of the
dealings of God with my soul, and being willing to gratify you therein; I shall
give you a few short hints thereof: though the badness of my memory, and the
sense of things being too much wore off, will not admit me to give a particular
relation, how I was carried on, step by step. When I was young, I was very much
taken with the vanities and follies of youth. My greatest concern was, that I
was hindered by my parents, of taking my full swing, in that, in which, I so
much delighted: for they would sometimes be talking to me about the state of my
immortal soul, and asking what I thought would become of me, if I should die
without an interest in Christ: but, I in disregardful manner used to turn my
back upon them, and laugh at them; thinking myself as good as they, only I could
not talk so finely about religious matters, for, thought I, I am not guilty of
any very heinous sins, all that I desire, is only to play and be merry, as most
of my years are willing to do. What, thinks I, would they have me be mopish
[listless; Ed.], and lay aside all pleasure thus soon, it will be time enough
for me to betake myself to a melancholy life when I attain to their age; should
I do it now, I shall be laughed at by all my companions. I heartily wished, that
my parents were like the parents of some of my play-fellows, that I might have
the same liberty, which they enjoyed. I accounted myself to be in a worse case
than any body, because I was deprived in some measure of the liberty, I would
have had. When I was at the meeting, my thoughts were wholly employed about my
vain delights and pleasures, instead of being attentive in hearing the word of
God preached. Sabbaths were very burdensome to me, and I did, as often as I
could, make excuses to stay at home, under pretence of illness.
Thus I went on till I was near fifteen years of age, about
which time, it pleased God to awaken me, and bring me to consider, what a state
I was in. One night being in my usual manner, at play with my companions, and
hearing them swear at a sad rate, and taking the Lord’s name in vain, in almost
every sentence they spoke, having met with something that vexed them, which
provoked them, as they said, so to do. This, I thought, was not right in them;
though I myself had much ado to k eep from bad expressions, thinking I looked
foolish amongst them, because I did not do as they did: but I was, kept from it,
though the temptation lay very hard upon me. This terrified me very much, not
only for that, I was so much put to it, to keep from bad words myself; but to
think, that I should delight in such wicked company, contrary to the mind of my
parents, and certainly displeasing to God, against whom, thought I, I have
sinned to a great degree. I went home that night with a sad and heavy heart,
concluding, that I should certainly be damned, and fully expected every night
when I went to bed, for about a fortnight, that I should never awake anymore in
this world, but should be in everlasting punishment before daylight appeared.
I resolved to amend my life, and to pray to God for
forgiveness of past sins. After this resolution was taken, my terror began to
abate: and glad I was, thinking that God was pleased with me, but I soon began
to break my resolutions; for no sooner was the terror I had felt, a little over,
but I had a hankering mind to return to former pleasures. And Satan let in with
this temptation very strongly, that I was too young to mind religion, and that
if betook myself therefore to all pleasure would be at an end with me.
And likewise, these thoughts were suggested to my mind, that
the Lord was merciful, and so if I did but repent, and pray earnestly to him to
forgive my sins, when I should be past taking pleasure, in those things, in
which most of my years delighted, I need not fear acceptance with him. After
these thoughts, with many others, which I cannot now remember, had passed
through my mind, I came to this conclusion, to go amongst my old companions once
more; and accordingly, when evening came, out I went to them. They seemed glad
of my company, and told me, they wondered at the change they perceived in my
countenance towards them, and that they were afraid they had done, or said
something displeasing to me, though they knew it not; but if it was so, they
were very sorry, for they would not do anything to anger me if they could help
it. This speech of theirs, knit my love to them, and made me resolve not to
forsake them again whatever came on it; but before the night was spent, I was
again seized with sad terror of conscience, so that I could not be brisk amongst
my companions.
I went home, and betook myself to my former resolutions, not
to offend God on this wise and that I would read and pray, in order to merit his
favor. For, thought I, I must not expect to find mercy any other way. With these
promises, I contented myself, in a great measure, though I was not able to
perform them. For, no sooner than the pleasant evenings drew my companions
together; but my mind was with them, and I allowed myself to go one night after
another, thinking every time it should be the last, and I neglected reading and
praying, with these thoughts, I will omit but this time, and go to my
play-fellows but once more. Thus I went on for some time; but could not take
that pleasure, in vanity and folly, as formerly I did. At last, it pleased the
Lord, to work such strong convictions in me, as I hope ended in saving
conversion. One day, these thoughts darted into my mind, that it was, as likely,
I might die that day, as live to another, and then what good would all my
resolution to reform do me, since I was never found in the practice of known
duties. These thoughts set me all in a tremble, and I concluded myself to be in
a miserable condition, for that I was deeply guilty of sins of omission and
commission, and that too, after I had been called to forsake them, and
therefore, they could no longer be termed sins of ignorance. So I began to
conclude the day of grace was now past, for I did not hearken to God’s voice
when he called, and, therefore, he would now turn a deaf ear unto me.
Then were my sins, as it were, set in
order before me. Things that I had done in my childhood, which had been long
forgotten by me, came fresh to my remembrance: upon which, I thought, that I was
undone to eternity. At the same time, I was made sensible of my incapacity, to
do anything that is good. I saw there was a want of power, as well as of will,
in me. About this time, my father preached from those words: nevertheless, the
foundation of God, standeth sure, having this seal, the Lord. knoweth them, that
are his, and let every one, that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.
From these words he took occasion to talk of election, and of God’s
foreknowledge from eternity. Well, thought I, is it so, that the Lord, did
before this choice, well know what rebels we should prove, then I may be well
assured, that I shall be damned, for he would not fix his love unalterably upon
so vile, so sinful a creature, as I am. When my father came to speak from the
latter part of the text, he spoke how it was the duty of believers to be
pressing after holiness. This made me begin to think of working for life again,
though I doubt not, but my dear father made a distinction between working
for life and
from life; but so ignorant was I, that
I could not take it in aright. So I attempted to pray, and in so doing, found
something of a secret hope, that the Lord would pardon my sins, though they were
very great, if I could but keep to this duty: but the Lord did not suffer me
long to rest here. For that Scripture came into my mind: not by works of
righteousness, which we have done; but of his mercy hath he saved us. And these
words followed: not of works, lest any man should boast. Now was I quite brought
off from having any dependence upon my own doings, and was at once quite striped
of all hopes: for I thought these words came only to convince me, that my
righteousness would avail me nothing in point of salvation: for it is not said,
according to his mercy hath he saved thee, but us, and, therefore, no
encouragement to me. Thus I went on for some time in a distressed, disconsolate
manner.
One day, as I was going about some business, that word fell
upon my thoughts: thou art chosen of God and precious, I was not for taking any
notice of them. They ran in my mind very much all day, at last, I began to
wonder at the reason of their following me so much. I chosen of God, and
precious thought I, that can never be, the words do not belong to me, I dare not
take comfort from them. However, I looked into a concordance; but could find
none nearer than those in 1 Peter 1:4. This concerned me very much, for now, I
thought it was plain, that Satan was endeavoring to deceive me. I was in sad
distress, and knew not what to do: look which way I would, I could see nothing
but ruin and destruction before my eyes. Pray I durst not, that word ran so in
my mind, the prayer of the wicked is an abomination unto the Lord. At length
Satan began to come in again with this temptation; that I was but young, and,
therefore, need not be thoughtful about eternity; and that if I was elected I
should be brought home at last, though I lived ever so carelessly the mean
while; but if not, my thoughtfulness would never save me. But it pleased the
Lord to give me to see, that this was from the devil, because it did not lead to
Christ, but to carelessness; and that Scripture came with some power: seek ye
the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near: whereupon, I
desired, that I might so seek him as to find him, so call, that he might answer,
so knock, that he might open unto me: for, I thought there was nothing in the
world so desirable. That word was given in for my comfort: though your sins be
like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red as crimson,
they shall be as wool.
I was then helped to admire at the distinguishing,
unparalleled, super-abounding love of God. Oh! that he should come over all my
sins and rebellions, and also manifest and discover it to me. Then I could cry
out, why me, why me, indeed! Why should I, that am viler than the vilest sinner
that lives, be thus favored, thus honored! It is cause of wonder and
astonishment! but, alas! this abode not long. I soon began to be under fears and
questionings, whether ever the Lord had been at work upon my soul, or not, and
whether the things I met with, might not be only delusions. And, at length,
Satan came in with his temptations and assaults upon me, and tempted me to
question the being of a God, and of the truth of the Scriptures: many thoughts I
was distressed and perplexed with, which are not fit to be spoken, which brought
me at last into such a frame, that I knew not what to think of any persons or
things. But one day, as I was standing at the garret window, and looking out
into the garden, I began to consider how the trees did grow; sure, thought I, it
can be no natural power that produced them: then those words came to my mind,
lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath created these things; from which
I was made to believe, that there is a God: and those words followed; hast thou
not known, hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the creator
of the ends of the earth? Then was I strongly persuaded, that there is an
all-seeing, an all-knowing God, and wonder-working God, who is infinite in
power.
But now the thoughts and conceptions which I before had, were
like arrows piercing me: for now I concluded, that if there was a God, I could
have no hopes of ever finding any favor or mercy from him; for I had found
myself out of hopes, by questioning his being. Nay, I thought, that I had
committed the unpardonable sin, and, therefore, I could not be saved. In this
distress I continued some hours, ‘till it pleased the Lord to come in with these
words; is my arm shortened at all, that I cannot save? Or have I no power to
redeem? Which for the present a little supported me, for I was persuaded, that
his power is not limited, but that he could fare the worst of sinners. But then
I began to doubt of his willingness to save me. I was by this trial made more
sensible of the wickedness of my heart, and of the natural propensity that is in
me to commit evil, than ever before I was. It was a means of discovering to me
the sin and corruption that dwells within me. I then saw myself to be nothing
but a mass of sin, and heap of uncleanness. I saw myself to be full of ignorance
and darkness, which made me question the more, whether there was anything of a
work of grace upon me or no: for I thought if I have grace, why do I not grow; I
find myself ignorant, and that is a sign that I have no grace. I used often to
wish that I had died in my infancy, and then I should not have committed so
many, and so heinous sins against my dear Lord; though I was sensible, that if I
had died when but one day old, and had not the application of Christ’s
righteousness, I had even then been miserable; for I was convinced of original
sin before this time, from those words, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did
my mother conceive me: though it was a strange doctrine to me at first; but
after a strict enquiry, I found by the Scripture, the first sin which caused the
fall, was pride and unbelief. It was pride in that, man aimed to be as God,
knowing good and evil; and unbelief appeared in that he hearkened unto the voice
of Satan, and did not obey God: and upon a little search, I found that these
sins were very predominant in my nature. By which I found, that I was tainted
with original contamination. Those words likewise were often in my thoughts; who
can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? Not one. By these, I was convinced of
original sin, and was made to see, that from thence all actual sins did flow.
But to return. After some time, the Lord was pleased to break
in with discoveries of love to my soul afresh, with these words, as the Father
hath loved me; so have I loved you, continue ye in my love. This was a sweet
cordial indeed, to my drooping spirits. And soon after these words were made
very sweet to my soul: as the bridegroom rejoyceth over his bride; so shall thy
God rejoice over thee. Oh! how did I then admire the distinguishing grace of
God, that was thus largely displayed and revealed to vile, sinful, and unworthy
me. Then was my heart knit and united to the Lord Jesus; so that I could say,
whom have I in heaven, but thee? And there is none in the earth, that I desire
besides thee. I then counted all earthly things, but as empty vanities, in
comparison with that comfort I had in the enjoyment of the presence of my dear
Lord. Then could I freely commit myself, my all into his hand, believing him to
be my head, my husband, my Saviour, my redeemer, and my advocate. I was for some
time wholly taken up in the contemplation of the divine perfections of him, who
is fairer than the children of men: and in adoring the love of the divine
persons in the glorious Trinity. I saw that the love of the Father was great, in
making choice of such a rebellious creature, as he well knew I should prove. The
love of the Son was no less, in accepting of us at his Father’s hand, freely,
willingly, and voluntarily undertaking to satisfy divine justice, and to answer
all the demands of the law. The love of the Spirit may be seen, in discovering
this, so matchless and marvelous love and grace unto us.
Now, I thought, I could be content to be anything, or
nothing; so that God might be glorified in me. I was fearful of acting, or
speaking anything, that was in the least contrary to the mind of my God. I then
hated everything that looked like lightness, or was an the leastwise sinful, and
was as much afraid of sinning, as knowing it was offensive to the holy and pure
nature of deity, as of being damned for it. And desired as much to be holy here,
as happy hereafter. Then Sabbaths were a delight instead of burdens. For as soon
as the Sabbath was ended, I longed for the return of another. Then were God’s
ways, ways of pleasantness, and all his paths, were paths of peace unto me.
Those words were pleasant to me: thy maker is thy husband, the Lord of hosts is
his name: and thy redeemer, the holy One of Israel; the God of the whole earth
shall be he called. Many other sweet and precious promises were made very
comfortable to my soul, which I need not mention here.
I was for a considerable time, at it were dandled on the knee
of love. I seldom was a day without fresh and repeated discoveries of pardoning
love and grace; which so melted my heart, and so raised my affections, that at
some times I was in such transports of joy, as cannot be expressed. I was so
settled in the belief and persuasion of my instatement in an everlasting
inviolable covenant, that I thought with David, my mountain stood so strong, it
could never be moved. I was ready to say with Paul; nothing shall separate me
from the love of God, nor interpose, nor hinder my enjoyment. I could then go to
God in duties, as to my own God and Father, and claim a right to, and propriety
in the promises of the Gospel.
At that time, I had an earnest desire after the welfare of
those, who had formerly been my companions: I mean the welfare of their immortal
souls. Oh!! thought I, did they but know what I feel, and could they but
conceive what satisfaction, comfort, and joy, there is in the enjoyment of,
nearness to, and communion with a reconciled God, and, did they but see what a
beauty, loveliness, and glory there is in him, they would freely forsake all
their foolish pleasures, and vain delights for an interest in Christ. I thought
I would not have returned back to my former course of sin and vanity, might I
thereby gain a thousand worlds. For there is more true peace, and solid comfort,
in one moment’s communion with God, than in an hundred years, in sin and folly.
Some time after this, the Lord was pleased to withdraw the light of his
countenance, and to leave me in the dark: whereupon, I presently began to
question my interest in him, and to fear, that what I felt, was only a delusion
from Satan, or else the fancy of a distressed mind, or some notion, that I had
got, by giving more attention in hearing the word preached, than I was wont to
do.
About the same time I heard, that one of my companions should
say, that it was only pride, that made me forsake them, that I did not think
them rich enough to play with me, and so they reflected upon me very much. The
parents of this girl were professors, and they spoke as bad of me, as the girl
herself could do. This troubled me greatly, for now I thought the Lord was about
to discover what I was, and that I certainly was, as they said; though my heart
was so deceitful, that I did not discern it before: or else he would not have
suffered his own children to have had such thoughts of me. In this distress, I
remained some considerable time: one day, I happened to fall into the company of
this girl, and one, who was a friend to me being present, she began to tell me
what the other had said of me. The girl at first denied it: upon that, I talked
to her pretty sharply, for telling of lies to excuse herself, then she owned,
that she had said so, to one, or two, and what then? Its true, said she. I told
her, that I thought I might truly, say, it was false. Then those words were
given in: if ye were of the world, the world would love its own; but because I
have chosen you out of the world, therefore, the world hateth you. But thought
I, it is not only the world, but professors likewise, who cast these reflections
upon me. Then those words came to my mind: in the world, ye shall have
tribulation; but in me, ye shall have peace: be of good cheer, for I have
overcome the world. Then I considered, that it is not said, from the world, or
from the persons of the world, but in the world; and inferred from thence, that
persons may meet with trouble, and trials, even from the men of their own house.
Then was I helped from these promises, to admire grace, that the Lord should so
condescend to such a poor unbelieving creature as I. Soon after this, I began to
examine myself, whether, or no, I could freely, and willingly part with all
creature-comforts for the sake of Christ: or whether, if I was put to my choice,
either to have great things in the world, and all the pleasure, that heart could
wish, or to have Christ and the cross, which of the two, I should chose? I
thought my heart replied, I should rather chose Christ and the cross, than all
the riches and pleasures of this world. But I again reflected, that my heart was
deceitful, and it might be, if I was put to the trial, and should have riches,
honors, and pleasures set before me, I should chose them, rather than Christ
with the cross, and so this could be no evidence of my being right. Whereupon I
was greatly troubled, and desired of the Lord, that if I was his, he would by a
more than ordinary power let me know it. Then was I for chalking out a way for
God to walk in. Thinking, that if this, and the other thing might be according
to my wish, then I could believe. After this desire had passed, I began to be
much troubled to think what I was now about. Must I direct the Almighty? Could
not I take him at his word, without desiring he should take such a way to raise
up my faith. Yet for all this I could not help still having the same desire,
till those words were brought to my mind: my ways are not as your ways, nor my
thoughts, as your thoughts: for as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are
my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts, than your thoughts. Soon after
this, those words were impressed upon my thoughts: fear thou not, for I am with
thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God. I will strengthen thee, yea I will help
thee, yea I will uphold thee with the right hand of righteousness. It was a good
word indeed to my soul, for many days. About this time, my father was preaching
from these words: return unto thy rest, Oh! my soul, for the Lord hath dealt
bountifully with thee. My memory is too bad to give any particular account of
what was then delivered. But this I can remember, that I had sweet times under
hearing.
One Sabbath-day in the morning I was very ill, so that I was
forced to stay at home. But no sooner was the family gone to the meeting; but I
began to reflect upon myself, for letting a little illness detain me from going.
If I had a right value for hearing the gospel of Christ, thought I, I should
have gone: or had I any right esteem for the comfort, and refreshment of my
soul, I should readily, have gone, that I might have met with it; but now I
thought it was plain, that I was nothing but a painted hypocrite. I had at that
time such a sight of the darkness of my understanding, the hardness of my heart,
and of the perverseness of my will, that I thought there were none like me. For
thinks I, such as are indeed Christians, take more delight in the means of
grace, and in discoursing of the things of God. They can speak of a new birth,
and of faith in Christ, and this I thought myself a stranger to. So, I then
judged, there was nothing right in me: but if there is not yet, it is high time
there should, thought I; and I am well assured, that if I return back to my
former course of sin and folly, I shall perish. If I have any dependence on
anything in myself, that is too short: there is no other way, whereby we can be
saved, but in, and through Christ, through his righteousness alone, without any
of our own to be joined therewith: therefore, I will now, as helped, venture my
soul upon him, if I perish, I perish.
Then that Word was given in to me with
an irresistible power, so that I could not withstand it: I, even I, am he, that
blotteth out thy, transgressions, for my own sake, and I will not remember thy
sins. Then was I again helped to admire the free, rich, and distinguishing love
of God: that he of his good will and pleasure, and for his own sake, not from
any worth, or worthiness in me; no, for I deserve not the least of his mercies,
should thus freely pardon the most vile of sinners. Then I desired, that since
grace is thus free, I might never be suffered to do anything to offend, so kind,
so merciful a God: for, thought I, is it so, that grace, love, and mercy, is so
abundant, and super-abounding, then am I under the highest obligation in the
world, to be found in acts of obedience to all God’s commands, so far, as
capable, not for life, but
from life: not expecting to merit salvation; but being chosen of
God, redeemed by Christ from the curse of the law, he having answered all the
demands thereof, and given a full and plenary satisfaction to divine justice on
my account therefore, I ought to endeavor to promote his honor and glory, in all
holiness, and Godly conversation.
I had at that time a deep sense of the odious nature of sin,
that it was of so heinous a nature, that nothing less than the blood of the
spotless righteous lamb of God could satisfy for it. That the Son of God must:
take upon him our nature, stand in our room and stead, be made sin for us, who
himself knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him. Oh!!
matchless grace, unparalleled love, that ever the Lord of life and glory, should
leave his Father’s bosom, to die so shameful, so ignominious a death, even the
death of the cross, for poor rebellious creatures, and that he should endure
such sufferings, and undergo his Father’s wrath and displeasure, to that degree,
that he cried out: my God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me! And all this for,
and on account of poor sinful mankind. The consideration of this, made me abhor
sin, and loath myself on account of my transgressions. I desired, that I might
never be suffered to sin against God, in heart, lip, nor life. Nay, I thought,
that if I was sure to be damned, yet I desired, that whilst I remained here, I
might live to the praise and glory of God.
I had a comfortable time all that week, and the week
following. Many sweet, and precious promises were given in, which I cannot now
remember: so that I was filled with such transports of joy, as I cannot express,
nor could I willingly admit of any discourse, or company, that might interrupt
my enjoyments. And to the end, that nothing of that might hinder my meditations,
I commonly sat in my lodging room, where I enjoyed many pleasant hours, as well
as some distressing ones. I had now an endeared love for any, that I hoped were
the children of God. And, if I heard of any young ones, being under convictions,
I soon found my affections strongly engaged to them, who before I had no esteem
of, and an earnest desire after their welfare. After this, hearing some, in
telling their experience, speak of the dreadful temptations they had met with,
and also reading Mr. Barry’s account of the dealings of God with him, what sharp
conflicts he met with, and how long he was under the spirit of bondage, and upon
his receiving the Spirit of adoption, what glorious effects ensued; I began to
fear again, that I was not in a converted state. For, I thought, I was never
loaded with the guilt of sin, as some be: neither was I ever assaulted with such
dreadful temptations from Satan, as many are; nor yet have I ever enjoyed such
wonderful and glorious revelations of Christ, as some express, therefore, I fear
that I am still in the gall of bitterness, and the bond of iniquity. My trouble
through these fears, increased daily for some time. Whereupon, I acquainted one
of my intimate friends therewith: who directed me to a passage in Mr. Bunyan’s
come and welcome to the Chief of Sinners, which just answered those very
objections. The reading whereof little removed my doubts. And also reading Mr.
Barry’s postscript, to caution such doubting tempted believers, that might be
ready to draw sad conclusions against themselves, from hearing of the wonderful
dealings of God with him, in handling him so sharply by the spirit of bondage;
as also his bountiful dealing with him, in making his soul the receptacle of
such joy and consolation, upon believing. Saith he, some pass through greater
horror, and are brought, as it were, to the gates of hell, and desperation, as I
was: others are dealt more easily, and gently with, being sweetly allured, and
as it were insensibly transplanted into Christ, they not well knowing what is
done to them. The reading of these things, I say, together with those words,
following of me very much: he leadeth thee by the still waters, did give me some
hopes, that I was one of those, that the Lord was pleased thus by the gentle
drawings of his Spirit to bring to close with Christ. Then those words were very
pleasant to me: I taught Ephraim to go, leading them by the hand; but they, knew
not, that I healed them. I drew them with the cords of a man, with bands of
love. I was to them, as they that take off the yoke on their jaws, and laid meat
unto them. Then was I helped to see, that though I had not been so strongly
beset with temptations as some are, yet that was not an indication, that the
work of grace was not right, in, and upon me; for the Lord can work in what way
he pleases. And surely, I have great cause of thankfulness, on this very
account, that I was not left to the buffetings of Satan, nor to be so long under
that sad horror and bondage of conscience, as some be, and though I had not such
great revelations of Christ, nor such ravishing joy and comfort as some have;
yet I had such views of him, as a suitable, and sufficient Saviour, that I would
not part with my hopes of an interest in him, for the world: and also had
received such joy and comfort from him, as did far surpass all the comfort, that
can flow from the belt, and greater enjoyments of this world’s things: yea, for
one moment’s communion with God, is far preferable to all the riches, honors,
and pleasures of this world; for it yields more satisfaction, and peace, than
can be met with in the highest station of worldly grandeur.
Thus was I helped to meditate on these things, and to stand
and admire, that I should be so highly favored, as to have any discovery of
pardoning grace, any manifestation of redeeming love. It had been a great mercy,
if the Lord had fixed his love upon me, and had not made it known to me: but Oh
it is matchless and unparalleled grace indeed, that he should send his Spirit to
reveal this his altogether unmerited, and inconceivable love to my soul! I can
never enough admire this great, this inexpressible love. Neither am I
able—something is here wanting, by injury her writing hath suffered, through one
means or other. She proceeds thus. Then was the language of my heart, Oh! that I
might never commit one sin more! How can I bear to think of offending so kind,
so loving a God. What sin against such love and mercy, that hath been discovered
to sinful unworthy me? How can I bear it wretch that I am, are there yet the
remainders of sin in me; I hate it, I loath it. Oh!! that I might be wholly and
entirely freed there from. This, I say, was the constant language of my heart
for some time. Unwilling was I, as I have before said, to leave my lodging room,
so much as to eat a little victuals, for fear of having my thoughts diverted
from things that are heavenly and divine. And, when I was in company, I was
restless till I got by myself again. One time I well remember, having been in
company, when I got to my chamber again, I was thinking over something that
passed, till on a sudden, those words came with such power: my son, give me thy
heart; I answered, Lord, do thou take it, thou alone art worthy—here also some
injury hath happened to her lines.
I admired, that the eternally glorious God should stoop so
low, as to desire a place, in the hearts of such poor, nothing-creatures, as we
are, who is glorified and adored above, by the blessed angel, and hath no need
of the adoration, and services of such poor dust and ashes as we are. Oh!
wonderful and matchless grace! I had that afternoon, such views of the glories
of heaven, of the bliss and happiness, that the angels, and glorified Saints are
possessed of, that made me even long to be dissolved, to be with Christ, which
is far better. Some little time after this, one Sabbath-day, as I was going to
the meeting, this thought darted into my mind, that I was all this while, but a
deceiving myself, and building my hopes on a sandy foundation, and not on
Christ, who is the only way of salvation. This thought set me on a tremble, and
sad distress was I in, till those words came in: I will deliver thee from going
down to the pit, for I have found a ransom, which a little supported me, though
I could not tell whether there was a Scripture, or not; but when I came home, I
looked into a concordance, and found it. In the afternoon, when I was in the
meeting, my fear seized me again that all I had met with, was only a delusion,
that Satan was endeavoring to deceive me, and so took this method, which he
thought was the likeliest to keep me quiet, persuading me, that I was in a safe
state; when alas! it was no such thing. I thought he could transform himself
into an angel of light, and can bring Scriptures, to those that he brought to
trust in, and depend on something short of Christ. This I fully thought was my
case, for about half an hour; then those words were brought to my mind: I am not
a man, that I should lie, nor the son of man, that I should repent.
Here the narrative she gives is broke off, and left
unfinished. I shall present the reader with some farther account of her
experience, and of the carrying on of the good work upon her soul, out of some
of her letters, which she wrote to relations, friends, and acquaintance.
I shall begin this account with some lines taken out of a
letter to her mother, whom she much honored and tenderly loved. She writes thus:
Dear Mother,
I am very glad to hear of your being in such a comfortable
frame, whilst under your late affliction. The presence of God is very
comfortable and delightful at all times; but in a special manner in a time of
affliction; it makes affliction seem very light and easy. Through grace I know
something of it. I also know something how dismal and distressing it is to be on
a sickbed; and to my own apprehension, to be near the time of dissolution, and
to be wholly deprived of his comforting presence, to have not one glimpse of
love, no sealing evidence of an interest in his favor; but quite on the
contrary, writing the most bitter things against myself: lying for some time
under the dreadful apprehensions of approaching wrath and endless misery. This
is a very sad case; but as I before hinted, this is not always, nor indeed not
often mine; but it has been the pleasure of my dear Lord, most times, when
attended with bodily illness, to favor me with visits of love, to give me
repeated discoveries of my interest in him, and to let me see, that it is in
very faithfulness, that he afflicts, that it is for my real good and advantage;
though I at present may not discern how, or which way. For what he doth, we know
not now; but we shall know hereafter. I have been filled with admiration and
astonishment, that my afflictions are not the rebukes of an angry God; but his
fatherly chastisements for my profit, that they come not in vindictive wrath;
but are as the rod in the hand of a loving and tender-hearted Father. That he
will lay no more upon me, than he will enable me to bear. That they are part of
my portion: yea, that they are really part of the blessing designed for me in
the eternal covenant. That they are mine, in the sense the Apostle speaks of,
when he enumerates the many benefits that are the Saints’ property: whether
Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or things present, or things to come,
or life, or death all are yours, for ye are Christ’s and Christ, is God’s. But I
must conclude for want of time, etc.
To the same she thus expresses herself on a very mournful
occasion, viz. The death of an only child, who was not five years old.
Dear Mother,
You desire to know how we are in our minds. Indeed I have
often thought to write to you on that subject; but it being a melancholy one, I
omitted it: though I may say, that for my own part, I am mostly better
reconciled to that mournful providence, than I could have expected. Not that my
dear babe is much out of my mind, for that she is not, day, or night; but at
some times I am pretty much resigned to the will of God, in what he has done;
and can believe, that he doth all things well. And that his thoughts towards me,
in that respect were thoughts of peace, and not of evil. I at sometimes hope,
that these words, which so much ran in my mind, in my dear babe’s illness, have
in some measure been made good, viz. This is the will of God, even your
sanctification. Now, what is sanctification, but to have our will wholly
resigned to and swallowed up in the will of God? And I think, if I know anything
of my own heart, I can say, that at times, I have been helped quietly to
acquiesce in the will of God, in the removal of one of the most engaging babes,
merely because it was the will of my heavenly Father. The sweet frames that I
have at sometimes been in, since her departure, I cannot otherwise express, than
that it was, as if my will was indeed wholly swallowed up in the will of God.
But alas! this is not always the case: I meet with some
intervals, and such too, that at those seasons, I can hardly tell how to bear up
under my loss, which I don’t find, that length of time has any tendency to abate
the sense of.
In answer to a letter from her mother, upon this delicate and
affecting subject, she speaks thus:
I
thank you for your seasonable advice; but alas! I am too apt to murmur at this
dispensations of providence, and think it is a stroke too heavy for me to bear.
I am sometimes like unto Jonah, think I do well to be angry; I am ready to call
providence to an account, in this manner; thinks I, why was the not removed
sooner, before she was so exceedingly engaging? Or why had she not continued
longer, that she might have been more capable of giving an account of herself;
that so we might have had full satisfaction about her state. I have indeed been
sadly distressed about that, though I sometimes think I have less reason so to
be, than many others have, (the means under such a circumstance) for it is
certain, the had uncommon impressions upon her mind some time before her
illness. For she talked much about dying and being in heaven, she wanted to know
what would be her employ there, and if she should not see more and know more,
than she did here. In the midst of her gaiety and briskness, she would often
change her countenance, and look as grave and solid as anybody could do; and
running to me would say, mamma, doth he that is above see me now? And is he
angry with me? And many such questions she often asked, that I many times could
not tell how to answer her. It would fill sheets of paper to relate her pretty
speeches, which were something remarkable. It will likewise be too tedious to
inform you here, of the various trials and temptations that I have labored
under, and the particular supports I have had, in my dear babe’s illness and
since her death: only this I may say, that if I had not had some supports, I
think I could not have bore up under so sore a trial, but I purpose to see you
very soon: if the Lord permits me, I think to be at Northampton in less than a
fortnight, though it will be a melancholy journey to me now. I pleased myself
very much with the thoughts of coming with my dear lamb to
She thus writes to one, who acquainted her with some matters
of complaint relating to spiritual things.
My experience is the same with yours, as to disorders in
duty, and the workings of corruptions out of duty. I find my heart, as vain, and
as carnal as ever, nay, I think far worse than ever; so that I often think,
surely there is none in the world like me. You complain in yours of heart
wanderings; so that you know not how to approach unto God in prayer many times.
But remember that covenant, wherein you are provided for, both in this life, and
that which is to come. By virtue of that covenant, believers are fed with the
finest of the wheat, and honey out of the rock: and, indeed, we stand in great
need thereof, at this day, when we are encompassed with the waters of Marah,
viz. bitterness, when we are troubled on every side, yet (if we are made to act
faith in Christ) not distressed, (2 Cor. 4:8). It is a small thing to be
buffeted of Satan, to be reproached by men, if we can claim an interest in the
power of Christ our Lord, that will support us, when all creatures fail us.
Outward discouragements seem many and great, when faith is weak and feeble,
unbelief stumbles at many things, which faith steps over with ease. Oh! may we
be helped to wrestle with God for more faith; surely, a believer is under
spiritual decays, when he, or she, under a want of faith can neglect the throne
of grace. Happy are those, whose wants make them more importunate [persistent;
Ed.], and earnest with the God of all grace; such shall be supplied, according
to the riches of his glory. He that prepares the heart to ask, will cause his
ear to hear, (Ps. 10:17]. When God makes us earnest beggars, in his Son’s name,
he will make us successful ones for his Son’s sake. We have great encouragement
to ask, God takes delight in acts of mercy, (Micah 7:18). He gives liberally,
and upbraideth not; he will not always deny us, because of our former
negligence. The pleasure he takes in manifesting his mercy, cannot be allayed by
our unworthiness, darkness, deadness, or anything of that nature. We must
consider, the justice of God is fully satisfied, therefore, fury is not in him.
God can now deal with us sinful dust and ashes, in a way of mercy, without any
hindrance from his justice; he hath regard to the perfect satisfaction made
thereunto, by his Son Jesus Christ; and as long as that is presented at the
right hand of God the Father, so long we have ground to think, and believe, that
no shower of wrath shall fall upon us: for although faith is the presented
obedience of Christ, makes us comfortable, yet its Christ’s presenting of it for
us, makes us safe. The actings of our faith ebb, and flow; but the righteousness
of Christ is one, and the same forever, it shall never be abolished. Neither
sin, nor Satan, time, nor eternity, can make any alteration in it. It is
raiment, that waxeth not old upon us, notwithstanding we are, in this
wilderness-state exposed to many storms and tempests. Christ is the bread of
life, and his righteousness, is a robe and garment of salvation. Oh that we
might be enabled to believe in him more steadfastly, not doubting, but we shall
be preferred in the midst of the tempest, remembering, that this man, Christ, is
a hiding place from the storm, a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in
a dry place, and as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land. He is both
protection and refreshment to us, in this howling wilderness; but I must break
off for want of time.
In another letter she gives some account of a sermon, she
heard from these words:
Lo! the people shall dwell alone, and of the frame of her
mind while hearing of it: the account she gives of the sermon is this; that the
people of God may be said to dwell alone, as objects of God’s eternal choice
from among others: as Christ became their surety, and by reason of the Spirit’s
work upon their hearts. That they dwell alone in God’s love, in Christ’s love,
and in the love of the Spirit. And, that they may be said to dwell alone, in
respect of their desires of grace, their aim, and end being God’s glory. All
indeed, said he, may desire to be saved from wrath and misery; but their desire
is, that God may be glorified in, and by them, as well as that, they may partake
of happiness. Besides, they give thanks and praise to the Lord, in the reception
of mercies, they are, in some measure, helped to eye from whence their mercies
flow, and so give God the glory of all; whereas, others, if they enjoy the good
things of this life they ascribe it to their good endeavors, and good
management, etc. I was, says she, pretty much affected under hearing. I wish I
had a memory to retain what was delivered, so as to give you a particular
account thereof, and of my frame under that sermon, it was (some particulars of
it especially) very searching, which put me upon self-examination, and on the
strictest search, I thought, at least, that my experience could witness to the
truth of what was said, and so I was in a comfortable frame; but I have been
often attended with questioning thoughts this week, and am now in a very
discomposed frame, unfit indeed to write. I do not love writing; but when I am
in pretty lively frames.
In another letter to the same person, when she was under
trouble of soul, she thus expresses herself.
I cannot see, that I have any grounds to suppose, that I have
in truth and reality ventured my soul upon Christ. It is one thing to believe
the truth of his Word, and the all-sufficiency of his grace, and another thing
to believe in him, and receive him, and rest upon him, for life and salvation.
Neither am I, as I think, I ought to be, concerned about it; but am indeed
possessed of carelessness, and indifference too often: though at some times, I
am almost overdone with distress for a few hours; but then it wears off again
without any application of pardoning grace, and is succeeded by a careless frame
of spirit; which seems to be a plain demonstration, that I am still, in the gall
of bitterness, and bond of iniquity. As to the concern, that at some times
siezeth upon my mind, I think its only the accusation of a wounded conscience,
against which, I do to a very great degree sin daily; being guilty of sins both
of omission and commission; the which I know to be a duty to do, or to avoid,
and which doubtless will greatly aggravate my torments in another world, Christ,
himself saith, (John 15:22), If I had not spoken unto them, they had not had
sin; but now they have no cloak for their sin.
I have sometimes thought, that my neglecting to be found in
the ordinances of Christ, might be a cause of my being left sometimes to
careless frames, and sometimes to unbelieving ones: and, that I had thereby
given just occasion to the Holy Spirit, to withhold his gracious influences; but
I do now conclude, that I am still in an unconverted state, and, therefore, the
Lord did not suffer me to deceive his church and people: he would not permit me
to be ranked amongst his dear chosen ones. And well it was, that I was kept from
it. For, perhaps, I might then have brought a greater dishonor to his name, and
a greater reproach to his gospel, than now I can, though better it would have
been, had I been wholly silent, and not acquainted any with what I, through a
delusion, fancied, that I met with. Surely Satan used more subtlety in his
devices against me, than against any other. He took this method to blind my
mind, and make me think, that I was in a safe state: thus he hath deceived me:
and now he lets me rest quietly. It is said of him, (2 Cor. 11:14) that he
transforms himself into an angel of light.
I do not apprehend, that the distress,
that I am sometimes in, is from him; but as I before hinted, that it ariseth
only from a conscience wounded by sin, which he perceiving, puts me in mind of
what I before met with, for my relief at some times. At other times, [he] brings
other things into my mind, to take my thoughts off from what should be the
matter of my greatest concern. Thus is he, as I conceive, time after time,
endeavoring this way to deceive me, and to keep me from seeking after salvation
in a right way. These words have often run in my mind, of late especially, when
I have been for fetching in comfort from former experience, then have they
darted afresh into my mind: be not deceived, God is not mocked. And also there:
so are the paths of all that forget God; and the hypocrite’s hope shall perish.
Yet how little am I concerned about it? Sometimes, as I before said, I am in sad
distress for a short time; but certainly, if my concern was of a right k
Can a soul, that hath tasted of his
grace, that hath enjoyed his comforting presence, be contented to go from day to
day, yea from week to week, without one view, or token of his love? You will
doubtless say, no; then the true reason of my so doing is, because I never
tasted the sweetness of it, and, therefore, cannot so thirst and breathe after
it, as such do, who have (to the comforting of their soul) received renewed
love-visits from himself. A real child of God values, and esteems Christ above
all the world; but it is evident that I do not, because my heart is so much
taken up with the vain things of this life, that is at most not a moment, when
compared with eternity. How happy are they, that have a well-grounded assurance,
that they shall live, everlastingly possessed of all true joys, and delights,
such cannot be satisfied with earthly riches, honors, or pleasures; but they are
for the riches and glory of heaven: it is a crown of glory, they have in their
eye, nothing but God himself will satisfy them, they count all things but as
dross and dung, in comparison of Christ, and are freely willing to part with all
for him, they are willing to deny themselves, and take up their cross, and
follow him, willing to do, or suffer anything; so that he may but be glorified
in, and by them: his glory is what they aim at in all they do. This I sometimes
have thought I could say of myself; but now I see it is otherwise. I wish I
could, with truth, say thus. These are the friends of Christ, and the only
favorites of heaven: ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you. They
cannot by so doing purchase, or procure Christ’s love and friendship; no, no,
his favor cannot be bought. When they have done all, they must say we are
unprofitable servants. Heaven is not a reward of debt, but of grace. But Christ
doth freely vouchsafe this blessing to his chosen, who keep his Word, and its
hereby they are assured of his love: he that hath my commandment, and keepeth
them, he it is that loveth me: and he that loveth me shall be loved of my
Father. Persons may have Christ’s commandments in their heads, and in their
mouths, may know what his commandments be, and yet not have them in their
hearts, so as to keep them, or subject to them; but a truly godly person loves
them, approves of them, and sincerely keeps them. The Saints yield a ready and
hearty obedience to the precepts, Christ hath given forth in the Gospel. God be
thanked, that ye were the servants of sin; but ye have obeyed from the heart,
that form of doctrine, which was delivered unto you. The divine doctrine hath
great efficacy on their hearts. The Word makes an impression on their souls; so
that with joy and delight they obey it, and from a right principle, from a
principle of life, from faith in, and love to Christ. Only David could say: I
love thy commandments above gold; yea above fine gold, (Ps. 119:127). And he
also says: therefore, I esteem all thy precepts, concerning all things to be
right; and I hate every false way. But as for me, sad is my case, I do not find
that hatred to sin, as its an offence to the most high God, which he speaks of.
I may, perhaps, be afraid of sinning, for fear or heightening my torments; but I
do not think I ever was made rightly sensible of the odious and abominable
nature of sin. Nor do I find that love to Christ, his people, and to his ways,
as I think his dear children do. Is it a sign of love to Christ, when the heart
is almost wholly taken up with the things of this world, and the mind is remiss,
careless, and of one k
In another letter to the same person, she writes thus:
Yours I received, in which are contained intimations of the
love and kindness of the Lord Jesus taking hold of your soul; and making you a
partaker of the grace of life. In the views of which you are led into the
admiration of his excellency, and the wonders of his grace. That the savor and
power, of those soul-refreshing truths, are in some measure experienced by you.
Oh! that lovely one, how sweet are the least glimpses of his peculiar favor;
when he is pleased to give some special discoveries of it, in our attending upon
him. But what will it be, when we shall enter into the joy of our Lord, and be
made to swim in that vast unfathomable ocean of eternal love and glory? In the
meantime, it must be testified, that the blessed Jesus deserves the highest seat
and entertainment in our hearts. Where should he be let, but in the midst of our
dearest and most ardent love, to command all in us to a most willing obedience,
and to the utter abolishing of all our idols, that he alone may be exalted? It
is his own power and Spirit, that only can maintain his noble cause, or
effectually plead for his royal prerogative in our souls. But, oh! what need
have we to be begging of God, that there may be a reviving time, after such a
long winter-season, for if these withering, backsliding days be not shortened,
how will his honor be vindicated?
It is matter of great concern to me, at times, to see the
decays there are amongst the professors, in this our age; as well as to feel the
declining in my own soul. And I am sometimes ready to say, what will become of
God’s great name? But this may be our strong consolation, that there is no
limiting of his power, nor searching of his understanding. He knows how to
restore in a moment the desolation of many generations. He can, if he pleases,
revive his children, and make them to rejoice in him, and cause them to flourish
in the courts of their God. The Lord help us to live by faith, and to rejoice in
the hope of his glory, knowing, that none ever trusted in him, and were
confounded. You desire to hear how it fares with me, as to the present frame of
my soul. I have not time to give you a particular account thereof. I could wish,
that it was with me, as in days past; but alas! it is quite otherwise. I find a
great deal of coldness and indifference attending me, and abundance of sin
mixed, even with the best of my performances. I seldom can go to God in the duty
of prayer; but my heart is roving after vain things. Oh! the thousands of
thoughts, that will even at such seasons crowd in, to interrupt, and disturb me
in my supplications to the most high. Neither do I find my heart so drawn out to
the Lord, nor do I enjoy that nearness to, and communion with him as I was wont
to do. Yet I am not left to give up all hopes. At sometimes the thoughts and
consideration of the frames I am too often in, is very distressing to me; at
other times, I am wholly careless, and unconcerned about it.
One day, not long since, as I was thinking how I have been in
times past, how much of the sensible presence of God, I then enjoyed, and how
pleasant and delightful it was; I had a great desire to participate of the same
favor once more, and to that end, I resolved to betake myself to the duty of
holy meditation. I retired to my room, for that purpose; but when I came there,
I found my thoughts much confused and rambling, and could not come at one
serious thought of God, or his works, for a considerable time. I then thought
with myself, I came here to think, and contemplate upon divine things, and not
to have my thoughts, thus vainly carried away. I then reflected again, that if I
was to watch my thoughts, but one hour, I might observe a multitude of sinful
ones; but find it hard to have one serious thought of God, or for him; so that I
thought I had reason to stand and wonder, that God did not cut me off, and cast
me among the damned. But whilst I was thus thinking, my thoughts were still
wandering; so that I saw I had not power over one thought. Under a sense of this
I went to God, desiring that he would direct my thoughts and assist me. He was
pleased graciously to answer my request. I was for a few hours very comfortable,
but alas! it abode not long. Oh! I long to feel more of the kindly power of
Christ in subduing my will, and bringing every thought in subjection to his law.
In another of her letters she thus speaks.
I am willing to embrace an opportunity of writing to you, by
which you may understand that I have you still in remembrance; and am, as
helped, in my prayers to the Lord making request for you, that you may be filled
with all joy and peace in believing, even joy unspeakable and full of glory; and
that you may be led more fully into the knowledge of divine truths, as they are
in Jesus. It is not a bare notion of things in the head; but a real experimental
knowledge of Christ, and him crucified that will stand us in stead. The great
Apostle accounted all things but loss and dung, in comparison of the excellency
of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, rejecting all confidence in his own
righteousness, and resting wholly and only on Christ and his righteousness for
justification and acceptance with God. Indeed, it is in the Lord Jesus only,
that we have righteousness and strength. And this is such a righteousness, as
can answer all the demands of justice, and all the requirements of the law of
God, and all the guilt of conscience, yea, and all the accusations of Satan, and
render a person spotless and amiable in the sight of God. We are complete in
Christ. Fair and comely though in ourselves, we are unworthy, vile, and
deformed; so that we may say with the Apostle, who shall lay anything to the
charge of God’s elect, etc. Oh! the wonders of divine, glorious, sovereign,
distinguishing grace, that such poor, sinful, polluted wretches as we, should be
so highly favored and dignified, brought into such nearness of union to, and
communion with God, by the blessed Jesus. Oh! how comfortable and pleasant is it
to live in the views of God’s reconciled face, and to taste the sweetness of his
love, which is better than wine. How should such love and grace engage us, to
love God and live to him? Yea, and to trust in him? It is matter of astonishment
and admiration, that it should please the high and lofty one, to set his love on
such unworthy wretches, and to draw them with the cords of his loving-kindness.
There is nothing so sweet and excellent, as to behold the beauty, or to be taken
with love of the most excellent Jesus. It is a sweet life to dwell in the secret
of his pavilion, to have a place among them that stand by, and see the lovely
face, where the divine majesty may be approached unto, in a way of intimate holy
communion and acquaintance, where we shall hear of nothing but peace; nothing
but the law of kindness and liberty is delivered from mount Zion, where God hath
commanded the blessing, even life for evermore. A liberty not of slaves, which
is freedom from duty; but of sons, which is freedom in duty; especially to live
upon, delight in, and chose him above all, who is graciously multiplying
experiences of his grace to our souls. What reason have we to be praising of him
with the greater thankfulness of heart, that ever he should cast one favorable
look upon such vile dust, who deserved to be cast into the dungeon of utter
darkness forever? I think, that I above all have cause to admire the stupendous
grace and love of God, that he should come over the mountains of my rebellions,
and reveal pardoning grace unto me, (who am viler than the vilest sinner that
lives) as I cannot now, but hope he hath.
I am often, yea, very often attended with questionings and
fears, that I may be mistaken herein. I am sometimes, as it were, raising the
very foundation of all my hope of happiness, concluding, that the work of grace
hath never yet passed upon me, and supposing that if the Lord had ever been at
work upon my soul in a true and saving manner; then I should have had a deeper
sight and sense of my own vileness, than ever yet I have had, and Satan would
have been busier with me, and I should have met with stronger assaults and
temptations from him, as most of the children of God do, when under first
workings. These objections, with many others rob me of my comfort. Sometimes I
think my desire of being saved, was never from a right principle, nor to a right
end; but arose from a selfish bottom, to the end, that I might be delivered from
eternal wrath and misery, not aiming at God’s glory therein. Thus am I many
times writing bitter things against myself, concluding, that I have not yet been
helped to venture my soul on Christ; for think I, I fear that I am still leaning
to, and depending upon something in myself, and not resting upon the merits of
Christ, as the only way of salvation. Besides, think I, if there ever had been a
real change wrought in my soul; then would my heart, my thoughts, and
affections, be let more upon things that are heavenly and divine, and I should
be weaned from the things of this world, in a far greater measure; I should find
my heart more drawn out in love to the Lord Jesus, and should see a greater
beauty and excellency in his person and righteousness, and likewise sin would
appear more hateful and odious in my view. I should not be attended with such
vain thoughts and backslidings of heart from the Lord, and with careless,
lifeless, and indifferent frames, as I too often am. Are there spots, like the
spots of God’s children? Surely they are not. Neither are such, who have indeed
passed from death unto life, left so often to question their state. They have
clearer and more certain evidences and testimonies of their security, and are
enabled to rely upon, and trust in the Lord, even when they do not enjoy his
sensible presence. Job could say, though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.
And the Lord, by the prophet Isaiah saith, who is among you that feareth the
Lord, that obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness and hath
no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay himself upon his God:
yet how prone am I at every turn to dishonor the Lord, by unbelieving frames?
There are some of the fears, which I am very frequently
filled with; but oh! what a mercy is it, the Lord rests in his love? He is the
same towards us yesterday, and today, and forever. Though we vary in our frames,
yet he abideth faithful; he changeth not. There is no variableness, nor so much
as a shadow of turning in him. Oh! that the eternal Spirit would come down more
abundantly, and persuade us of the freeness and fulness of eternal grace: that
we might be made to behold our living in the root of David, from the utmost
bounds of eternity, yea, also while we were in the depths or our rebellions,
which through grace, I have been at times made to believe; did I believe God’s
love to be but of yesterday, it would much damp my spiritual comforts; but when
I am brought to see the fountain of this great depth of electing love to be
eternal, as ancient as God himself; how am I made to rejoice sometimes, and to
wish I could do more for my dearest Jesus? Surely, there is no spring of
obedience like that of love, yea, from that it becomes us to act under this new
testament dispensation, in an especial manner.
She finishes this letter with some account of a sermon, which
she heard from these words:
Oh! my dove that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret
places of the stairs; let me see thy face, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is
thy voice, and thy countenance is comely. The method in treating on which, she
says, was this: to show why the church is compared to doves, viz. Because the
dove is a clean fowl, hath a piercing eye, is choice, or delicate in its meat,
and is sociable: doves flock together and are weak creatures, not able to defend
themselves. That they are Christ’s doves, or that the church is his by election,
covenant-agreement, purchase, conquest, and resignation; that the Rock is
Christ, who is so called, because he is strong, durable, and immoveable; that
the Church’s voice may intend her voice of prayer, praise, acknowledgment, and
the voice of the ministry. That the voice of the Church in these respects is
sweet to Christ. That she is comely through the comeliness Christ puts upon her.
She was no injudicious hearer. In forming her opinion of
sermons, she closely considered whether the subject treated of, was properly
attended unto. If the genuine sense of the text was given, and if its several
parts were distinctly considered. If there were no unnecessary digressions. If
the Scriptures brought in confirmation of the doctrine delivered, were
pertinently applied. If such distinctions were made, as the points discoursed of
required, for the greater benefit and instruction of the hearers, which I could
give evidence of, if I thought it proper; for her talents were truly great. It
is needless to say, that she greatly valued the Gospel of Christ in its purity,
for that appears in the fullest manner. The sad effects which she experienced in
one part of her life, through the want of it, she long retained a deep sense of.
Which appears in part of a letter to one, for whom she had a great affection,
then in much the same situation, as to hearing, that she herself, many years
before had been in. She begins thus:
I pity your case, yet dare I not so much as desire you might
be easy in your present situation. This I desire, that you may learn good
thereby, and that you may let a higher value on the doctrine of free, rich,
sovereign grace. It is a just observation, that we do not prize our mercies, as
we ought, but in the want of them. I doubt not, but you do now so much prize, in
the want of it, i.e., the Gospel, as to long for the re-enjoyment thereof. I
wish you may continue thus minded: and that that sort of preaching which you
chiefly hear, may not have the same influence on you, as it hath upon too many,
viz. flatten your graces, and lull you into a lethargic frame, as was once my
unhappy case. For fitting under the ministry of one, who either through
ignorance, or which I rather think, out of prudence, as he thought, avoided
preaching on those peculiar, evangelical truths, which are the life of a
believer: by degrees, I became dead, dull, and lifeless; a common round of
duties satisfied me, and grace lay dormant, as to the act and exercise of it;
yet here I willfully staid. When I might have heard that word dispensed, which I
had thought had been sweeter to me, than the honey, or the honey-comb. When I
came to my wonted place, and heard the same sweet comfortable, and soul-reviving
truths delivered, though by another hand: oh! what did I not feel? I was struck
with shame and confusion, for having willfully deprived myself of so great a
privilege, which I ought to have esteemed more than my necessary food: I thought
it was just for the Spirit to withdraw his influences and operations. But alas!
shame for my negligence was not the worst, for now I called in question, whether
ever I had felt the power, and efficacy of the Word upon my heart, or not, and
at length drew sad conclusions against myself. This may serve for a caution to
you, not to stay longer in a place, than you are obliged, where you cannot have
spiritual food for your soul.
In another letter, she expresses herself thus:
May grace, mercy, and peace, through the love-passage of our
Father’s heart be multiplied to you, to your abundant filling with the first
fruits of glory unspeakable; in the faith-views, and irradiating influences of
that love, life, and light, which as an eternal unchangeable flow of favor
encircles you in the person of the beloved. The Spirit giving us to drink of the
streams of the waters of life, makes us glad in the wilderness, as the certain
earnest and foretaste of our being hereafter swallowed up, in that love, life,
light, and glory, which flew through the channel of Christ’s flesh, as a river
to swim in, that can never be passed over: when once that happy day comes, when
we shall no more drink of the water of this river, as now we do, through the
conduit-pipes of ordinances; but shall drink of the pure river of the water of
life, clear as crystal, as it riseth, out of the throne of God, and of the Lamb;
there (if I may so say) we shall drink our fill: though this will be our
privilege, that the living virtue of this living water, will constantly maintain
in us, a living appetite, yet not such an one as will be in the least
inconsistent, with our being abundantly satisfied. We shall never more know any
pain of desire, for want of enjoyment: we shall drink, and forget our poverty,
and remember our misery no more. And our appetite being always new, will only
fit us for the participation of that glory, which will be new to eternity. When
that longed for day comes, when the Lamb that is in the midst of the throne
shall lead us to living fountains, and give us to eat of the hidden manna, on
which we shall feed with wonder, and sweet surprise; as the children of Israel,
when they tasted the manna, in a kind of amazement at the goodness thereof,
cried out, what is it? What is it? I had such a view of this glory one day last
week, and an home application of my being entitled unto it, and having a right
to all the benefits, which flow through Christ, as filled me with astonishment.
A sweet time it was, indeed, while it lasted; but it was but for a few hours.
Such times are very desirable, and very delightful. I was ready to cry out, as
he of old did: how is it Lord, that thou wilt manifest thyself to me, and not
unto the world? I knew then for a little season, what it is, to take up my rest,
where my God and Father rests. I am, at times, through grace, made to believe,
that I have received the spirit of adoption, not only to witness my relation to
God, and give me faith-views of the inseparableness of that union, in which I
stand to the person of Christ, as the security of all my happiness; but also, at
times, to give me the greatest holy freedom, through the blood of Jesus, to draw
nigh to God, as my own Father, to unbosom my soul to him, and tell him all my
wants; and blessed be his name, I have not been sent away empty.
I have found the enjoyment of God to be strength in weakness,
joy in sorrow, a reviving cordial in time of trouble. And in all that I meet
with in my way homeward; I can fly he is God all-sufficient, I find him so
through grace. Oh! how sweet is it to enjoy this love of loves? Oh! the height,
and depth, the length, and breadth, of the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus
my Lord. If the enjoyment of God be so great here, whilst in a body of sin, and
in a world of temptations and snares; what will the full enjoyment of him be,
where there will be no mixture of sin, nor sorrow? If the earnest be so great,
what will the inheritance be? Well may it be said: eye hath not seen, nor ear
heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath
prepared for them that love him.
What this dear Saint so much longed for, she took possession
of, now some years since. May we be enabled to follow those, who through faith
and patience have inherited the promise.
