Your other letter I hope to consider hereafter; though I have great reason to apprehend your prejudice will still be too strong for my argu ments. However, whether you expect it or not, I must wish for your perfection. You of all people have most need of perfect love; because this alone casts out fear. I am, with great sincerity, Your affectionate brother and servant. CLXXXIII.-To JULY 1, 1759. DEAR SIR,-Considering the variety of business which must lie upon you, I am not willing to trouble you too often; yet cannot any longer delay to return thanks for your favour of May 21. How happy is it that there is a higher wisdom than our own to guide us through the mazes of life! that we have an unction from the Holy One, to teach us of all things where human teaching fails! And it certainly must fail in a thousand instances. General rules cannot reach all particular cases; in some of which there is such a complication of circumstances, that God alone can show what steps we should take. There is one circumstance in your case which claims your peculiar attention, and makes it necessary often to check that boldness and simplicity, which otherwise would be both your duty and pleasure. But O, how easily may you comply too far, and hurt yourself in hopes of gaining another! nay, perhaps hurt the other too, by that very compliance which was designed to help! And who is able to lay the line? to determine how far you should comply, and where fix your foot? May the God of wisdom direct you in all your steps! And I conceive he will rather do this, by giving you light directly from himself, in meditation and private prayer, than by the advice of others, who can hardly be impartial in so tender a point. Is it not then advisable, that you should much commune with God and your own heart? You may then lay aside all the trappings that naturally tend to hide you from yourself, and appear naked, as a poor sinful worm, before the great God, the Creator of heaven and of earth! the great God, who is your Father and your Friend! who hath prepared for you a kingdom! who calls you to forget the little things of earth, and to sit down with him on his throne! O may you dwell on these things, till they possess your whole soul, and cause you to love the honour which cometh of God only! I am, dear sir, Your obedient servant. CLXXXIV.--To MAY 16, 1759. DEAR SIR,-Since I received your favour I have had many thoughts on worldly and Christian prudence. What is the nature of each? How do they differ? How may we distinguish one from the other? It seems worldly prudence either pursues worldly ends,-riches, honour, ease, or pleasure; or pursues Christian ends on worldly maxims, or by worldly means. The grand maxims which obtain in the world are, the more power, the more money, the more learning, and the more reputation a man has, the more good he will do. And whenever a Christian, pursuing the noblest ends, forms his behaviour by these maxims, he will Infallibly (though perhaps by insensible degrees) decline into worldly prudence. He will use more or less of conformity to the world, if not in sin, yet in doing some things that are good in themselves, yet (all things. considered) are not good to him; and perhaps at length using guile, or disguise, simulation or dissimulation; either seeming to be what he is not, or not seeming to be what he is. By any of these marks may worldly prudence be discerned from the wisdom which is from above. This Christian prudence pursues Christian maxims, and by Christian means. The ends it pursues are holiness in every kind, and in the nighest degree; and usefulness in every kind and degree. And herein it proceeds on the following maxims :-The help that is done upon carth, God doeth it himself; it is he that worketh all in all; and that, not by human power; generally he uses weak things to confound the strong;-not by men of wealth; most of his choicest instruments may say, "Silver and gold have I none;"—not by learned or wise men after the flesh; no, the foolish things hath God chosen ;-not by men of reputation, but by the men that were as the filth and offscouring of the world; all which is for this plain reason,-" that no flesh may glory in his sight." Christian prudence pursues these ends upon these principles, by only Christian means. A truly prudent Christian, while, in things purely indifferent, he becomes all things to all men, yet wherever duty is concerned, matters the example of all mankind no more than a grain of sand. His word is then, Non me, qui cætera, vincit [The force which conquers others conquers not me, and I am borne on against the rapid current of the world.] He will not, to gain the favour or shun the hate of all, omit the least point of duty. He cannot prevail upon himself on any account or pretence, to use cither simulation or dissimulation. There is no guile in his mouth; no evasion or ambiguity. Having one desire, one design, to glorify God with his body and with his spirit; having only one fear, Lest a motion, or a word, Or thought arise, to grieve his Lord; having one rule, the word of God; one guide, even his Spirit, he goes on in child-like simplicity. Continually seeing him that is invisible, he walks in open day. Looking unto Jesus, and deriving strength from him, he goes on in his steps, in the work of faith, the labour of love, the patience of hope, till he is called up to be ever with the Lord. I O that this were in all points your own character! Surely you desire it above all things. But how shall you attain? Difficulties and hinderances surround you on every side! Can you bear with my plainness? I believe you can. Therefore, I will speak without any reserve. fear you have scarce one friend who has not more or less of the prudence which is not from above. And I doubt you have (in or near your own rank) hardly one example of true Christian prudence! Yet 1 am persuaded your own heart advises you right, or rather, God in your heart. O that you may hearken to his voice alone, and let all creatures keep silence before him! Why should they encumber you with Saul's armour? If you essay to go forth thus, it will be in vain. You have no need of this, neither of his sword or spear; for you trust in the Lord of Hosts. O go forth in his strength! and with the stones of the brook you shall overthrow all your enemies. I am, dear sir, Your obedient servant for Christ's sak DEAR SIR,-Disce, docendus adhuc quæ censet amiculus; [Learn the opinion of an humble friend, who himself needs instruction;] and take in good part my mentioning some particulars which have been long on my mind; and yet I knew not how to speak them. I was afraid it might look like taking too much upon me, or assuming some superiority But love casts out, or at least overrules, that fear. So I over you. will speak simply, and leave you to judge. It seems to me, that, of all the persons I ever knew, save one, you are the hardest to be convinced. I have occasionally spoken to you on many heads; some of a speculative, others of a practical nature; but I do not know that you was ever convinced of one, whether of great importance or small. I believe you retained your own opinion in every one, and did not vary a hair's breadth. I have likewise doubted whether you was not full as hard to be persuaded, as to be convinced; whether your will do not adhere to its first bias, right or wrong, as strongly as your understanding. I mean, with regard to any impression which another may make upon them. For perhaps you readily, too readily, change of your own mere motion; as I have frequently observed great fickleness and great stubbornness meet in the same mind. So that it is not easy to please you long; but exceeding easy to offend you. Does not this imply the thinking very highly of yourself? particularly of your own understanding? Does it not imply, what is always connected therewith, something of self-sufficiency? "You can stand alone; you care for no man; you need no help from man." It was not so with my brother and me, when we were first employed in this great work. We were deeply conscious of our own insufficiency; and though, in one sense, we trusted in God alone, yet we sought his help from all his children, and were glad to be taught by any man. And this, although we were really alone in the work; for there were none that had gone before us therein; there were none then in England who had trod that path wherein God was leading us. Whereas you have the advantage which we had not; you tread in a beaten path; others have gone before you, and are going now in the same way, to the same point. Yet it seems you choose to stand alone; what was necessity with us, is choice with you; you like to be unconnected with any, thereby tacitly condemning all. But possibly you go farther yet; do not you explicitly condemn all your fellow labourers, blaming one in one instance, one in another, so as to be thoroughly pleased with the conduct of none? Does not this argue a vehement proneness to condemn? a very high degree of censoriousness? Do you not censure even peritos in suâ arte? [adepts in their profession?] Permit me to relate a little circumstance to illustrate this : After we had been once singing a hymn at Everton, I was just going to say, "I wish Mr. Whitefield would not try to mend my brothe 's hymns. He cannot do it. How vilely he has murdered that hymn; weakening the sense, as well as marring the poetry!" But how was I afterward surprised to hear it was not Mr. Whitefield, but Mr. B.! In very deed, it is not easy to mend his hymns, any more than to imitate them. Has not this aptness to find fault frequently shown itself, in abundance of other instances? sometimes with regard to Mr. Parker, or Mr. Hicks; sometimes with regard to me? And this may be one reason why you take one step which was scarce ever before taken in Christendom: I mean, the discouraging the new converts from reading; at least, from reading any thing but the Bible. Nay, but get off the consequence who can: if they ought to read nothing but the Bible, they ought to hear nothing but the Bible; so away with sermons, whether spoken or written! I can hardly imagine that you discourage reading even our little tracts, out of jealousy lest we should undermine you, or steal away the affections of the people. I think you cannot easily suspect this. I myself did not desire to come among them; but you desired me to come. I should not have obtruded myself either upon them or you; for I have really work enough; full as much as either my body or mind is able to go through and I have, blessed be God, friends enough; I mean, as many as I have time to converse with; nevertheless, I never repented of that I spent at Everton; and I trust it was not spent in vain.* I have not time to throw these thoughts into a smoother form; so I give you them just as they occur. May the God whom you serve give you to form a right judginent concerning them, and give a blessing to the rough sincerity of, dear sir, Your affectionate servant. CLXXXVI.-To Miss Elizabeth Hardy. DECEMBER 26, 1761. DEAR SISTER, The path of controversy is a rough path. But it seems smoother while I am walking with you: so that I could follow you through all its windings; only my time will not permit. The plain fact is this: I know many who love God with all their heart, mind, soul, and strength. He is their one desire, their one delight, and they are continually happy in him. They love their neighbour as themselves. They feel as sincere, fervent, constant a desire for the happiness of every man, good or bad, friend or enemy, as for their own. They "rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in every thing give thanks." Their souls are continually streaming up to God in holy joy, prayer, and praise. This is plain, sound, Scriptural experience: and of this we have more and more living witnesses. But these souls dwell in a shattered, corruptible body, and are so pressed down thereby, that they cannot exert their love as they would, by always thinking, speaking, and acting precisely right. For want of better bodily organs, they sometimes inevitably think, speak, or act wrong. Yet I think they need the advocacy of Christ, even for these involuntary defects; although they do not imply a defect of love, but of understanding. However that be, I cannot doubt the fact. They are * From several expressions in this letter, it appears to have been addressed to the Rev. John Berridge, vicar of Everton.-EDIT. 17 VOL. VL all love; yet they cannot walk as they desire. "But are they all love while they grieve the Holy Spirit ?" No, surely; they are then fallen from their steadfastness; and this they may do even after they are sealed. So that, even to such, strong cautions are needful. After the heart is cleansed from pride, anger, and desire, it may suffer them to reenter: therefore, I have long thought some expressions in the hymns are abundantly too strong; as I cannot perceive any state mentioned in Scripture from which we may not (in a measure, at least,) fall. Persons who talked of being emptied before they were filled, were, for some time, a great stumbling block to me too: but I have since considered it thus: The great point in question is, Can we be saved from all sin, or not? Now, it may please God to act in that uncommon manner, purposely to clear this point: to satisfy those persons that they are saved from all sin, before he goes on in his work. Forgive me, dear Miss Hardy, that I do but just touch upon the heads of your letter. Indeed, this defect does not spring from the want of love, but only from want of time. I should not wonder if your soul was one of the next that was filled with pure love. Receive it freely. thou poor bruised reed! It is able to make the stand. I am Your affectionate friend and brother. MY LADY, It was impossible to see the distress into which your ladyship was thrown by the late unhappy affair, without bearing a part of it, without sympathizing with you. But may we not see God therein? May we not both hear and understand his voice? We must allow, it is generally "small and still;" yet he speaks sometimes in the whirlwind. Permit me to speak to your ladyship with all freedom; not as to a person of quality, but as to a creature whom the Almighty made for himself, and one that is in a few days to appear before him. You were not only a nominal, but a real, Christian. You tasted of the powers of the worid to come. You knew God the Father had accepted you, through his eternal Son; and God the Spirit bore witness with your spirit, that you were a child of God. But you fell among thieves, and such as were peculiarly qualified to rob you of your God. Two of these in particular were sensible, learned, well-bred, well-natured, moral men. These did not assault you in a rough, abrupt, offensive manner. No; you would then have armed yourself against them, and have repelled all their attacks. But by soft, delicate, unobserved touches, by pleasing strokes of raillery, by insinuations, rather than surly arguments, they, by little and little, sapped the foundation of your faith; perhaps not only of your living faith, your "evidence of things not seen;" but even of your notional. It is well if they left you so much as an assent to the Bible, or a belief that Christ is God over all! And what was the consequence of this? Did not your love of God grow cold? Did not you Measure back your steps to cartlı again? Did not your love of the world revive? even of those poor, low trifles, which, in your very childhood, you utterly despised? |