sr-'S 
 
 I THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, | 
 k:^ Princeton, N. J ^ 
 
 ©♦,<^ 
 
 y ^ Div/smn ' f) 
 
 5 
 
 BV A831 .A3 
 
 1831 
 
 
 
 Adam, Thoma 
 
 s, 1701- 
 
 178A. 
 
 
 Private thoughts on 
 
 reli 
 
 gion 
 
 and other 
 
 subjects 
 
 
 
"^p 
 
 SELECT 
 CHRISTIAN AUTHORS. 
 
 WITH 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS. 
 
•* 
 
-'^M^ 
 
 f* -^^ii 
 
PRIVATE THOUGHTS 
 RELIGION, 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER SUBJECTS CONNECTED WITH IT. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. THOMAS ADAM, 
 
 LATE RECTOR OF WiNTRINGHAM. 
 
 WITH 
 
 AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. DANIEL WILSON, A. M. 
 
 VICAR OF ISLINGTON. 
 
 FOURTH EDITION. 
 
 GLASGOW: 
 
 PRINTED FOR WILLIAM COLLINS; 
 
 OLIVER & BOYD, WM. WHYTE & CO. AND WM. OLIPHANT, EDINBURGH 
 
 W. F. WAKEMAN, AND WM. CURRY, JUN. & CO. DUBLIN ; 
 
 WHTTIAKER, TREACHER, & ARNOT ; HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO. 
 
 SEVrPKIN & MARSHALL ; BALDWIN & CRADOCK } 
 
 AND HURST, CHANCE, & CO. LONDON. 
 
 MDCCCXXXL 
 
Vrinied bv W. Collins & ( o. 
 Glasgow. 
 
^^GE^OJJ 
 
 Pa 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 The Private Thoughts on Rehgion of the late Rev. 
 Mr. Adam of Wintringham, which are here repub- 
 Ushed, are inestimable. They are the produce of a 
 very pious, a very acute, and a very honest mind. It 
 is not a volume which charms by the force and purity 
 of its style, by the closeness of its reasoning, or the 
 tenderness of its persuasion. It is not a detail of 
 Evidences, nor a series of Discourses. It was not 
 even designed for publication; and partakes, therefore, 
 of the disadvantages inseparable from merely private 
 papers. The language is plain, and sometimes coarse. 
 The topics are detached, and unconnected. Some of 
 the expressions are brief, and even obscure, and others 
 strong and unguarded. But with all these, and per- 
 haps some other defects, the thoughts are so acute 
 and penetrating ; they spring from such a mature 
 knowledge of the Holy Scriptures ; they open the re- 
 cesses of the human heart with such skill and faithful- 
 ness ; they lift up so boldly the veil which conceals 
 the deformity of our motives ; and the whole concep- 
 tion of Christianity which they exhibit, is so just and 
 so comprehensive, as to render them a most valuable 
 
VI 
 
 monument of practical and experimental Divinity. 
 Such a writer as Mr. Adam takes us out of our ordi- 
 nary tract of reading and reflection, and shows us 
 ourselves. He scrutinizes the whole soul ; dissipates 
 the false glare which is apt to mislead the judgment ; 
 exposes the imperfections of what is apparently most 
 pure and inviting ; and thus teaches us to make our 
 religion more and more spiritual, holy, solid, practical, 
 humble, sincere. 
 
 His observations on the corruption of our nature 
 are undoubtedly most humiliating, and may at first re- 
 pel even some pious readers. But when his style and 
 manner of expression on this subject are become fa- 
 miliar, and his full and elevated idea of Christianity 
 as the remedy of it, is apprehended, this momentary 
 dislike will yield to admiration and love. The reader 
 will find that there is such a deep knowledge of scrip- 
 tural truth in these remarks, illustrations so new and 
 striking, drawn from a variety of sources, and so holy 
 a tendency in every part of the statement, that he will 
 peruse it again and again, with increased advantage, 
 and growing conviction and esteem. 
 
 The characteristic of the entire volume is, depth of 
 scriptural and experimental knowledge. It requires, 
 therefore, thought and time, in order to be appre- 
 ciated. But it will amply repay both. And it may, 
 perhaps, be affirmed, that there is no work of modern 
 Divinity which is more likely, under God's blessing, 
 to elevate and purify the standard of religious senti- 
 ment in those who study it. 
 
 It is, indeed, objected by some persons, that to aim 
 at a profound knowledge of the doctrines of Christi- 
 anity, is to involve oneself in a maze of controversy, 
 
vu 
 
 to chill the best affections of the heart, and to check 
 the progress and the consolations of the humble peni- 
 tent. It is added, moreover, that the blessed Spirit 
 of God is the only effectual teacher ; and that refine- 
 ments and metaphysical inquiries in religion, tend to 
 quench His sacred influences, whilst they lead to no 
 satisfactory results. 
 
 To this it may be replied, that to pursue theological 
 questions in the manner of the schools, would indeed 
 be open to the objection now advanced. But this is 
 far from the method of Mr. Adam in the Work be- 
 fore us. He aims not at establishing a system, or de- 
 fending minute and doubtful points in religion. He 
 plunges into no controversies. He pretends to no 
 discoveries. He makes no show of metaphysical 
 acuteness. The deep knowledge which he recom- 
 mends, is that of the Holy Scriptures, well considered 
 in all their parts ; weighed, compared, examined, re- 
 flected on, digested. This intimate acquaintance 
 with Scripture he then applies to the human heart, 
 and to the motives, spirit, and conduct of the great 
 body of persons professing the peculiar doctrines of 
 the Gospel ; and deduces a variety of remarks from 
 this source, — solid, practical, and many of them pro- 
 found. This kind of knowledge, therefore, is so far 
 from checking the flow of spiritual consolation, that it 
 purifies and enlarges it; whilst the Divine Spirit, 
 who is indeed the only effectual teacher, but who 
 ordinarily works by means, increases by this very 
 method, all the strength, and activity, and influence 
 of the Gospel, and prepares the mind for every act 
 of penitence, faith, love, and joy. 
 
 In truth, it cannot be dissembled, that a chief de- 
 
Vlll 
 
 feet of modern divinity, and modern preaching, is the 
 superficial and cursory manner in which they are pur- 
 sued. Frequently in stations of much public influ- 
 ence, and in writings which are fixing the taste of the 
 age, it may fairly be questioned, whether more depth 
 of meditation, more of a spirit of devotion in prayer, 
 more acquaintance with Holy Scripture, more refer- 
 ence to existing evils in persons who espouse evan- 
 gelical sentiment, more use of the records of eccle- 
 siastical history in resolving difficult cases, would not 
 raise the tone of religion, and extend, as well as 
 strengthen, the foundations of real piety. 
 
 All persons, it is true, cannot make equal attain- 
 ments. A variety in natural endowments and advan- 
 tages for early study, as well as in the pressure of 
 immediate duties, will produce important differences. 
 But this consideration should heighten our esteem for 
 such a writer as our Author — gifted for this particular 
 purpose; with a mind strong, clear, upright; in a 
 situation to make and preserve his observations, ma- 
 tured by a long course of opportunities for improve- 
 ment ; and whose reflections are the more valuable, 
 as they were penned in the retirement of his closet, 
 without any view to publication, and are, therefore, 
 free from the unfavourable bias which the expecta- 
 tion of the judgment of the public sometimes commu- 
 nicates. 
 
 The high value of deep religious knowledge, in 
 this best sense of the expression, is incalculable. It 
 qualifies a minister of religion to speak with the au- 
 thority becoming his office. It enables him to meet 
 the infidel fully acquainted with the subject, and with 
 the evidences of the religion which he preaches. It 
 
IX 
 
 assists him in guiding and directing his people in the 
 course of their difficult and varied duties and trials. 
 It gives him the facility of discovering plausible, but 
 dangerous innovations in doctrine and practice. It 
 leaves him the full use and advantage of each scrip- 
 tural topic which he has to treat. It forms his man- 
 ner of stating and applying truth on the model of the 
 Holy Scriptures, which are thus infused into all his 
 principles and habits. 
 
 Especially, a deep knowledge of religion quahfies 
 a minister for making continual advances in personal 
 piety, as well as in public usefulness. He who has 
 a partial acquaintance with truth, is prone to imagine 
 he knows every thing, is led by names and terms, 
 and confines himself to a circle of topics which lose 
 much of their elasticity and value in his hands ; he 
 reads many parts of his Bible with an interpretation 
 not collected from a careful comparison of its several 
 statements, but composed of his own opinions, and 
 appHed violently to all subjects ; and thus makes but 
 small advances in real ffrace, and the knowledore of 
 his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. But a thorough 
 knowledge of truth lays a foundation of humility and 
 constant growth in solid godliness ; it raises a man 
 above systems and names ; it expands his conceptions 
 of Christianity ; it allows to the Scriptures all their 
 scope, all their force, all their authority; and thus 
 his instructions are not of one fixed and unimproved 
 character, but continually ripen with his own ripenino^ 
 piety, faith, and love. 
 
 At a period when, by the mercy and grace of God, 
 an extensive revival of pure Christianity is takhi"^ 
 place, it is more than ever important that a solid and 
 a3 
 
adequate knowledge of Christian truth should be cul- 
 tivated. For, in proportion as religion is more widely- 
 spread, the corruption of man will mingle with it in 
 various ways ; and nothing can so directly tend to cor- 
 rect errors as they arise, as a full and really scriptural 
 knowledge of religion — truth accompanied with all the 
 attributes and guards, with all the consequences and 
 uses, with all the bearings and proportions, which sur- 
 round it in the Holy Scriptures. No part of the 
 Bible is superfluous. Every thing is stated there in 
 the best possible manner, and for the very purpose of 
 being employed by the ministers of religion. To 
 strip the truths of Christianity of these necessary 
 defences, to divest them of their proper ornaments, 
 to expose them naked and unprotected to the vain 
 fancies and abuses of man, is to preach another Gospel. 
 Such a doctrine is truth no longer. And it may 
 accordingly be observed, that in all the revivals of 
 rehgion in the past ages of the church, the chief 
 scandals and impediments that have arisen, have 
 manifestly sprung from defective knowledge of Scrip- 
 ture, united with the presumption which commonly 
 attends it. 
 
 But general observations like these have less 
 weight. Let an example be taken. The impor- 
 tance of a clear and thorough knowledge of religion, 
 cannot be better exemplified than in the doctrine of 
 the fall and corruption of our nature — a fundamental 
 truth, — and the one on which our Author, in his 
 Thoughts, dwells with perhaps the greatest force. 
 This doctrine includes a variety of weighty, and hu- 
 miliating, and deeply practical points: — Man's aliena- 
 tion oF heart from God — his impotency to every 
 
XI 
 
 thing spiritually good — his extreme propensity to 
 what is external and sensual — the ruin of his moral 
 nature — in a word, his guilty, helpless, and lost con- 
 dition. 
 
 Now, the student who is acquiring from his Bible 
 a competent and adequate knowledge of this crreat 
 subject, will gradually feel the ground on which he 
 stands with respect to every thing connected with it. 
 He will see, without surprise, the opposite and ap- 
 parently contradictory truths which are stated in the 
 Sacred Volume, and stated as frequently and fully 
 as those which declare man's lost estate — his accoun- 
 tableness before Almighty God; the force of con- 
 science ; the duty of repentance, faith, and love ; the 
 guilt which the sinner incurs by neglect and disobe- 
 dience to the exhortations and commands addressed 
 to him in the Gospel. Difficult as these truths may 
 appear, he will perceive them to be most unequivocally 
 stated in the Bible, and will therefore never make 
 such representations of the dtrctrine of the fall, as 
 may impeach their genuine and full force. 
 
 He will further discover the chief errors which, in 
 different periods of the church, have arisen as to the 
 doctrine of the fall; the tendency of man to weaken 
 or abuse the scriptural statements of it — to reduce it, 
 on the one hand, to a taint, an infirmity, an effect of 
 bad education chiefly, or bad example ; thus fostering 
 the pride and sensuality of man, and inflating him 
 with a fatal presumption on his own powers : on the 
 other hand, to overstate this moral disorder, so as to 
 deny or invalidate the truths just referred to, which 
 spring from its rational and moral nature, and respon- 
 sibility before God. 
 
xu 
 
 The connection of the corruption of man with the 
 entire plan of revelation, the mystery of redemption 
 arising out of it, salvation by the grace of God, justi- 
 fication by faith only in the merits of our Lord and 
 Saviour, regeneration and progressive sanctification 
 by the influences of the Holy Ghost, the sacred per- 
 sons in the blessed Trinity, and their gracious offices 
 in the scheme of redemption, a disposition to every 
 duty springing from the motives of love and gratitude 
 to God for his unspeakable benefits, — all this will 
 burst on the mind of the student of the Bible, in 
 proportion as he attains a full knowledge of this sub- 
 ject. So that he will perceive the corruption of man 
 to be a principle of Christianity, a characteristic which 
 distinguishes it from any other system, and pervades 
 every part of its own — without which all is dark, un- 
 intelligible, contradictory; with which all is consis- 
 tent, holy, efficacious, divine. 
 
 The difficulties which rest on this peculiar doc- 
 trine will not merely not escape him, but will be 
 familiar to his mind by repeated examination of the 
 Bible. The entrance of moral evil, the temptation of 
 our first parents, the transmission of original corrup- 
 tion, the affecting state of mankind as lost — will give 
 rise to numerous difficulties, which he will silence by 
 the consciousness of his own guilt and ignorance, 
 and by the consideration that the Bible is contented 
 with stating the fact of our universal degeneracy, 
 without a single hint upon the causes which might 
 determine the divine mind to permit it. Here then 
 he will not only stop, but stop with a thorough un- 
 derstanding of the province and the limits of human 
 inquiry. He will perceive, that the comprehension 
 
XIU 
 
 of a divine scheme, like that of Christianity, may well 
 contain parts which surpass the reason of man ; and 
 that submission to this state of things, is, in fact, a 
 test of his obedience and humiUty, of constant force 
 and perpetual obligation. 
 
 In the meantime, our student will continually ad- 
 vance in a knowledge of the sentiments and feelings 
 which in the Scriptures always accompany the decla- 
 rations relating to our fallen state. The doctrine is 
 there stated, not abstractedly in a single instance, but 
 to promote self-humiliation; as the aggravation of 
 man's sin ; as the confession of the contrite heart ; as 
 a motive to gratitude for redemption and grace ; as a 
 reason for prayer, watchfulness, and dependence on 
 the Holy Spirit. In proportion, therefore, as he 
 studies the doctrine in this practical view, will the 
 uses and ends of it appear to him worthy of the di- 
 vine Teacher, and essential to the production of all 
 the most obvious and important designs of Christi- 
 anity. 
 
 But the field of observation which will stretch the 
 widest before him, is the application of this general 
 doctrine to his own heart and character. He will 
 less concern himself, in the first instance, with the 
 effect of it in others; he will have enough to do to 
 trace it in himself; to discover its windings, its hid- 
 den course, its tendencies, its operations. And he 
 will be most anxious to follow out this investigation 
 in all its branches, and especially in its effects on his 
 religious sentiments and habits, where it is most la- 
 tent, and, therefore, most dangerous. A life is too 
 short for such a study. All the integrity, all the 
 self-examination, all the repeated study of the Scrip- 
 
XIV 
 
 tures, united with fervent prayer to the supreme 
 Teacher and Author of all illumination, will only 
 suffice to detect the sophistry of this subtle evil, and 
 correct and diminish the fatal consequences which 
 it produces. It is in the light of the Holy Spirit, 
 and in the school of personal piety, where all is ap- 
 plied as it is discovered, and is traced in ourselves 
 before it is observed in others, that this humiliating 
 truth is best learned. 
 
 Thus disciplined, the Christian student will per- 
 ceive more and more, that every thing tends to con- 
 firm the statements of the divine Scriptures. All 
 the history of mankind ; all the events of the church ; 
 whatever has occurred, or is occurring in our own 
 country ; the passing scenes of every family, every 
 neighbourhood ; all, all proclaim the apostacy of man 
 from his Maker. 
 
 But enough of this detail. Suffice it to say, that 
 this is the sort of way — though more inadequately 
 given in the above remarks — in which a student may 
 be gradually led to a more full and mature knowledge 
 of Christianity, in opposition to hasty, partial, inac- 
 curate notions, seized at random, espoused in a spirit 
 of obstinacy, and defended before they are under- 
 stood. Similar illustrations might be given from 
 any other great truths of Christianity. In propor- 
 tion as such a kind of knowledge is attained, the 
 minister comes forth, " as a workman which need- 
 eth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of 
 truth." 
 
 Such a man was the Author of the following 
 Thoughts. He was deeply versed in all the great 
 tenets of religion ; he brought to the consideration 
 
XV 
 
 of those tenets a strong, masculine understanding; a 
 piety deep and practical; and an integrity beyond 
 suspicion. 
 
 It is on the increase of a similar spirit of sound 
 religious inquiry, that much will depend in the pre- 
 sent day. A superficial knowledge of religion may 
 last for a time ; but it soon betrays its barrenness, 
 and its insufficiency : it wavers or turns aside at the 
 first wind of doctrine which may arise, and fails of 
 fulfilling many of the highest ends of Christianity. 
 If we would have personal and family piety widely 
 flourish, it must rest on our adequate acquaintance 
 with these principles, which alone are capable of pro- 
 ducing them. The wisdom of God has adapted the 
 Christian revelation to the precise wants of fallen 
 man. If that revelation be not adequately known, 
 it cannot produce its due effects ; and it can only be 
 known by being humbly and diligently studied in all 
 its parts, under the teaching of the blessed Spirit of 
 God. 
 
 Sanctification is uniformly carried on by that divine 
 Comforter, by means of the truth. He who appHes 
 the redemption of the Son of God to the hearts of 
 men, has already revealed in his word all that he will 
 employ for that purpose. To study, then, the Bible 
 fully, is to lay up the materials of faith, holiness, and 
 joy; it is to employ the words which the divine Spirit 
 inspired, in obtaining that salvation which the same 
 Spirit communicates. What we want in the present 
 day, is knowledge full and adequate in the mysteries 
 of redemption ; that so the Holy Spirit blessing those 
 means of sanctification, we may be fruitful in every 
 «Tood work, and adorn the doctrine of our Saviour 
 
XVI 
 
 and our God. Thus may we reasonably hope for a 
 more extensive revival of primitive piety. Thus will 
 the ministers of religion use, in a larger measure, 
 " sound speech which cannot be condemned." Thus 
 will the consciences of men be brought over to the 
 side of truth. Thus will new converts be every 
 where " added to the Lord" from the worldly and 
 profane. Thus will the alarmed mind of the peni- 
 tent be filled with peace, by faith in the sacrifice of 
 our Lord. Thus will a holy, wise, and conscientious 
 walk follow the profession of the Gospel. Thus will 
 holy tempers, and a sweet, teachable, docile spirit 
 appear. Thus will the happiness of individuals, of 
 families, of neighbourhoods, of parishes, of churches, 
 be multiplied. Thus will evils and scandals be dis- 
 couraged as soon as they arise. Thus will our great 
 public institutions be directed with new prudence, and 
 animated with new life and vigour in their sacred en- 
 terprises ; — till a larger and larger measure of the 
 o-race of the Holy Spirit being granted to united 
 prayers, the time shall come when " the fulness of the 
 Gentiles shall come in," when " all Israel shall be 
 saved," and the stupendous designs of redemption be 
 ultimately and perfectly accomplished. 
 
 D. W. 
 
 London, July^ 1823. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Adtebtisement, 
 Life of the Authob, 
 Preface, 
 
 Page 
 19 
 
 25 
 
 47 
 
 PRIVATE THOUGHTS ON RELIGION. 
 
 Chap. I. 
 
 Confessions, . . . . 
 
 C3 
 
 II. 
 
 The Scriptures, . . . . 
 
 95 
 
 III. 
 
 God, ..... 
 
 . 102 
 
 IV. 
 
 Human Depravity, 
 
 110 
 
 V. 
 
 Repentance, .... 
 
 . lU 
 
 VI. 
 
 Jesus Christ, . . . . 
 
 155 
 
 VII. 
 
 Faith, .... 
 
 . 162 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Good Works, 
 
 188 
 
 IX. 
 
 Christian Life, 
 
 . 194 
 
 X. 
 
 Charity, .... 
 
 231 
 
 XI. 
 
 Resignation, . 
 
 . 241 
 
 XII. 
 
 Prayer, .... 
 
 252 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, 
 
 . 257 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Pastoral Office, 
 
 260 
 
 XV. 
 
 Heaven, .... 
 
 . 263 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Miscellaneous, 
 
 267 
 
XVlll CONTENTS. 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Page 
 
 No. I. To a Lady in Coifivvall, . . .269 
 
 II. To the Rev. Mr. Burnett, . . .272 
 
 III. To the same, ..... 275 
 
 IV. On the Death of my Wife, . . .278 
 V. A Prayer used by Mr. Adam in a fit of the Stone, 281 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The contents of this book made part of Mr. Adam's 
 Posthumous Works, published soon after his death. 
 As it was then foreseen, that these extracts from his 
 private Diary would be esteemed the most interesting 
 part of that publication, a greater number of the 
 volume that contained them was printed, than of the 
 other two. Yet the whole impression was speedily 
 sold, and a new edition of the Private Thoughts 
 has been repeatedly called for. They are here given 
 to the public, by the surviving Editor of the Posthu- 
 mous Works, in a more convenient form. To those 
 readers who have carefully considered the Preface 
 that accompanied them, nothing more need be said, 
 by way of apology, for the pecuHarities by which they 
 are distinguished. But as there are many passages 
 that have given offence to some readers, and which 
 the Editor has been solicited to soften or omit, it 
 seems necessary for him to give some reasons why 
 he cannot conscientiously do this. 
 
 He has always considered the remarkable honesty 
 and fidelity with which the venerable Author ex- 
 pressed the various exercises of his heart, as one of 
 
20 
 
 the principal excellencies of the book ; and has there- 
 fore ventured to make few or no alterations, unless 
 by omitting some repetitions of the same sentiment. 
 Had he suppressed the passages objected to, this 
 register of the thoughts of the heart would resemble 
 a register of the weather, in which no mention was 
 made of storms or fogs, and nothing recorded but 
 genial warmth, and a clear blue sky. But what is 
 the use of such a register ? 
 
 The Editor is not surprised that the men of the 
 world, who are ignorant of themselves and the law 
 of God, and wish to remain so, should be disgusted 
 with our Author's strong penitential language ; yet 
 he knows not how to account for the disgust of per- 
 sons professing to be religious, but by supposing that 
 they themselves are not yet brought to the knowledge 
 of the truth. For the light of truth, shining into 
 the soul, must make the same discovery of moral 
 obliquity and pollution, that a sun-beam darting 
 across a room makes of dust and impurity, which was 
 before unperceived. Would these squeamish readers 
 wish us to believe, that their own hearts are con- 
 stantly free from evil thoughts, and that all within 
 them is peace unbroken, and purity unmixed? What 
 hypocrisy or ignorance is this ! The holiest of them 
 must have attended very little to their own hearts 
 and ways, if they do not know worse of themselves 
 than any thing our Author has confessed ; and it will 
 be happy for them if they can adopt those passages 
 which express the steadfast faith, unwearied patience, 
 strong consolation, and other marks of a spiritual 
 mind, which he eminently possessed. 
 
 Should any upright Christian, after weighing what 
 
21 
 
 is said in the Preface, be still puzzled to make the 
 existence of such evils in the heart consistent with 
 such a state of holiness, let him try the following 
 experiment upon himself. Let him carefully attend 
 to what passes in his own mind, and commit to paper 
 his thoughts, wishes, and emotions, under the dif- 
 ferent circumstances that may befall him during the 
 space of a week. Let him, at the end of the week, 
 read over what he has written, and if he has executed 
 his task with honesty and fideHty, he will start at 
 his own deformity, and be unable to endure the sight 
 of it. 
 
 The Editor professes himself to be no admirer of 
 those accounts of characters, or devout exercises of 
 the heart, in which the bright side only is displayed, 
 since they leave a wrong impression, and afford a 
 partial view of the subject. This method of describ- 
 ing the character and the heart of man, has not been 
 learned from the biographical parts of the Bible, or 
 the Book of Psalms. Every thing is recorded with- 
 out disguise by the sacred writers, both of themselves 
 and others, though we may be often tempted to wish 
 that the faults of some distinguished persons, whose 
 history is blended with that of the church of God, 
 had been concealed. Their example has not been 
 followed as it ought. Little is to be found, even in 
 the lives and journals of those who have been eminent 
 in the religious world, but what is calculated to ex- 
 cite the respect and applause of their readers. What 
 then is to be expected from the common class of 
 biographers, but flattering pictures, calculated to mis- 
 lead mankind ? 
 
 Yet there are exceptions. To the honest heait, 
 
22 
 
 tlie penetrating mind, and powerful intellect of Dr. 
 Johnson, the world is indebted for a superior method 
 of biography. The persons whose characters he has 
 described, are introduced to our acquaintance without 
 any flattering disguise, and made known to us as 
 completely as if we had enjoyed a domestic intimacy 
 with them. And it may be observed, that his own 
 character has been described with equal fidelity, and 
 that posterity will view him exactly as he appeared 
 to those who had daily access to him when he was 
 alive. 
 
 Some, indeed, who dislike this honest deaUng, 
 affect to lament the injury done to the character of 
 Dr. Johnson, by the unguarded communications of 
 his friends, and particularly by the publication of his 
 Prayers and Meditations. Yet this book wa.s pub- 
 lished by his own direction ; and even the peculiari- 
 ties in his devotional exercises which may be called 
 superstitious, were permitted to appear, without any 
 care on his part to excuse or conceal them. Hence 
 it is evident, that he apprehended no dishonour to 
 his memory, from being exhibited to the world as a 
 penitent sinner, humbled with the view of past trans- 
 gressions, trembHng under a sense of the majesty of 
 God, and imploring mercy through the merits of his 
 Saviour. Nor was Mr. Adam under any concern at 
 the thought of having the secrets of his heart dis- 
 closed to the world, as is evident from the paragraph 
 with w^hich the chapter containing his confessions 
 concludes. Both had discernment to see their own 
 faults, and honesty enough to confess them. Both 
 abhorred hypocrisy and guile, and wished not to ap- 
 ^ pear better than they were. And surely they have 
 
S3 
 
 not suffered on this account in the esteem of the 
 truly wise and good, unless a person can be wise or 
 good, who judges of characters by rules contrary to 
 those which determine the judgment of God : For 
 " thus saith the Lord, To this man will I look, even 
 to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trem- 
 bleth at my word." 
 
 W. R. 
 
 York, March 14, 1803. 
 
A 
 
 SHORT SKETCH 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 OF 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 The Rev. Thomas Adam, Author of the following 
 work, was born at Leeds, in the West-Riding of 
 Yorkshire, February 25, 1701. His father, Mr. 
 Henry Adam, was of the profession of the law, and 
 town-clerk of that corporation. He married Eliza- 
 beth, daughter of Jasper Blythman, Esq.* recorder 
 there, by whom he had six children, Jasper, Henry, 
 Thomas, Catherine, Elizabeth, and Sibyl. 
 
 Our Author, Thomas, was first put to the public 
 grammar school in that town, under the care of the 
 pious and worthy Mr. Thomas Barnard,f then head 
 master of that school, and afterwards to the school at 
 Wakefield; from whence, about the usual time of 
 life, he went to Christ's College, Cambridge. But, 
 
 * " Elizabeth, the mother of Jasper Blythman, Esq. Recorder 
 of Leeds, was one of the twenty children of Sir John Stanhope, 
 which were born and baptized (besides two which were still-born,) 
 before either he or his lady were forty years of age." 
 
 f Author of the Life and Character of Lady Elizabeth Hast- 
 ings. 
 
 B 7 
 
26 
 
 after he had resided there about two years, he re- 
 moved to Hart- Hall, now Hertford College, Oxford, 
 under the care of that famous disciplinarian, Dr. 
 Newton, head of that seminary, and its founder as a 
 college, for whose memory, in that capacity, he ever 
 retained the highest respect. 
 
 He took the degree of Bachelor of Arts only, as 
 he had imbibed the doctrine of the indefensible na- 
 ture of pluralities from Dr. Newton, whose masterly 
 treatise on that subject is well known ; and therefore 
 concluded it a needless expense for him to proceed 
 any farther in academical degrees. 
 
 By the interest of an uncle, a person of some emi- 
 nence in the profession of the law, and who had been 
 of singular service to the family of the patron, about 
 the year 1724, he was presented to the living of 
 Wintringham, in Lincolnshire, of which he continued 
 rector fifty-eight years j but not being of age to take 
 possession, it was held for him by a friend for about a 
 year. 
 
 Not long after he settled at Wintringham, his 
 uncle, who seemed much set upon the advancement of 
 so promising a nephew, urged him greatly to come up 
 to London to show himself^ as he termed it, conclud- 
 ing this to be the most likely way to recommend him 
 to the favour of those who were most able to advance 
 him in the world. But when Mr. Adam understood 
 that his view was to put him in the way of more pre- 
 ferment, he was so far from embracing this advan- 
 tageous proposal, that he thought it his duty to de- 
 cline the invitation in as civil a manner as he could, 
 at the same time returning for answer, that it was in- 
 cumhent upon him to he with hisfiock at Wintringham ; 
 
27 
 
 an answer which gave great offence to his uncle, as it 
 frustrated all his well-meant schemes for his promo- 
 tion and advancement in the church. Nor did he 
 ever afterwards depart from the same disinterested 
 determination to refuse all additional preferment. 
 
 When Dr. Thomas was promoted to the bishopric 
 of Lincoln, our Author, whose good behaviour at the 
 university had gained hira the esteem of his governors 
 there, was strongly recommended by them to his pe- 
 culiar notice, as one whom he would find more espe- 
 cially deserving, amongst his clergy, of his attention 
 and regard. And it is very probable that we find 
 him, in consequence of this, appointed to preach be- 
 fore his Lordship at Gainsborough, at his primary 
 visitation there. But how much soever the bishop 
 might be at any time disposed to befriend him, he gave 
 him to understand that he was perfectly satisfied with 
 what he at present had, then not quite £200 per an- 
 num, nor ever meant to engage in any second charge. 
 
 Not many years after his coming to Wintringham, 
 Mr. Adam thought proper to change his state of life, 
 by marrying Susanna, the eldest daughter of the Rev. 
 Mr. Cooke, vicar of the neighbouring parish of 
 Roxby, by whom he had one only daughter, who died 
 in her infancy; and, after having lived together with 
 much comfort during thirty years or more, in the year 
 1760, he was called upon to resign this dearest earthly 
 treasure into His hands from whom he had received 
 her. How greatly he was affected by this loss, and 
 the truly Christian manner in which he bore it, will 
 be best shown by a meditation * on the subject, 
 
 * See Appendix, No. IV. 
 b2 
 
28 
 
 found amongst his papers, in his own hand-writing, 
 after his decease. 
 
 There is nothing in our Author's history, after 
 this period, which calls for particular notice. An 
 uninteresting sameness of events must almost neces- 
 sarily attend a life passed in the obscure shade of 
 country retirement. We shall therefore dwell upon 
 those parts of his character, as a minister and a Chris- 
 tian, which may furnish some considerations not un- 
 worthy of regard and imitation. 
 
 From the account which has been already given 
 of Mr. Adam's faithful attachment to his parish at 
 Wintringham, and his determined refusal of all ad- 
 ditional preferment, it is natural for the reader to 
 suppose, that he was peculiarly diligent amongst his 
 people, and instant in season and out of season for 
 the conversion and salvation of their souls. But 
 this does not by any means appear to have been the 
 case at that time ; for, though he was very exact and 
 regular in the discharge of all the public parts of his 
 office, and his sermons had even then a zeal and fer- 
 vour in them beyond the generality, yet, as he him- 
 self afterwards observed to a particular friend, " nei- 
 ther his life nor his doctrine could be of any pecu- 
 liar use to them, for he lived in a conformity to the 
 world, and his doctrine was contrary to the cross of 
 Christ."* 
 
 We find in his private reflections, which are here 
 
 * Lest this expression should appear in any degree obscure to 
 some of our readers, we would observe, that what Mr. Adam 
 meant by it was, that he was not preaching Christ crucified, as 
 the foundation of hope for pardon and justification with God, but 
 man's righteousness; thus making the cross of Christ of no 
 effect. 
 
^^9 
 
 republished, a remark of his own, which will fully 
 show his judgment of the case, on the review of it 
 many years afterwards. 
 
 " Intrusion into the ministry for worldly ends, and 
 absolute unfitness for it, — in great ignorance of Christ, 
 — great unconcern for the salvation of souls, — con- 
 sequent sloth and remissness, — squandering a large 
 income in sensual pleasure, — and, when I was some- 
 thing awakened, doing what I did in self-dependence 
 and self-seeking : — How awful !" 
 
 How long it was after his entrance into the minis- 
 try, before it pleased God to give him a clearer insight 
 into his own state, and the nature of his calling, we 
 cannot exactly determine ; though it seems probable, 
 that his conscience soon began to be not fully satis- 
 fied. All that we can gather on this head with cer- 
 tainty is, that he received his first impressions of a 
 serious kind from the writings of the mystics, parti- 
 cularly from the works of Mr. Law,* which appears 
 to be farther confirmed by the peculiar intimacy which 
 he is well known to have had for many years, in the 
 middle part of his life, with some ministers of these 
 sentiments. 
 
 In this state he continued several years, greatly 
 
 • The writings of Mr. Law seem to be principally useful in this 
 respect. They are admirably calculated to awaken the conscience, 
 and beget in the mind of the reader a conviction of the futility of 
 nominal profession, and mere decency of conduct, and have in 
 them such a strength of easy reasoning, level to every capacity, as 
 almost irresistibly wins the reader's assent to the necessity of vital 
 religion. 1 must beg leave, therefore, to ditfer from those who 
 would utterly discard them, and to assert, that we have not per- 
 haps in the language a more masterly performance in its way, or a 
 book belter calculated to promote a concern about religion, than 
 Mr. Law's " Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life." 
 
so 
 
 harassed in his mind and conscience; and though 
 now more earnest respecting both his own soul and 
 those of his people, yet a stranger to real peace, and 
 full of continual doubts and fears. He saw indeed 
 the law to be holy, just, and good ; but found, after 
 all his utmost care and endeavour to fulfil it, he fell 
 so short of its demands, and was so sinful, that he 
 was continually under its righteous condemnation. 
 
 It wa^not till about the year 1748 that his mind 
 gained any effectual relief. While he continued a 
 disciple of Mr. Law, though growing in a conviction 
 of his sinfulness, and becoming more strict and seri- 
 ous, yet still he could gain no solid peace of con- 
 science. All his strictest mortifications, or multiplied 
 exact performance of duties, were overruled by the 
 more strict law of God, whose divine spirituality he 
 could not attain to perfectly, nor save himself from its 
 just condemnation. In this situation, therefore, his 
 soul was in great distress; and that which served to 
 heighten it the more was, that he saw the word of 
 God, instead of giving him any ground of comfort 
 against his fears, was, on the contrary, in many places 
 fully against him. Amongst the rest, the Epistle to 
 the Romans was particularly offensive and distressing 
 to him in this view. He perceived that it evidently 
 struck at, and overthrew the very foundation of his 
 hope, and (as he then supposed) made no account of 
 a life of superior piety and godliness. As he was at 
 this time ignorant of God's righteousness, and of any 
 other way of salvation than by the merit of his own 
 goodness, the levelling strain of the apostle was in a 
 very high degree grating to his self-righteous pride. 
 He could not bear to see those that were esteemed 
 
31 
 
 good men treated only as sinners, and all their best 
 righteousness passed by as of no account towards 
 their justification. Hence he was sensible that St. 
 Paul taught a very different doctrine from that which 
 he held and preached ; and that they were directly 
 contrary to each other in the important article of 
 man's justification and acceptance in the sight of 
 God. For, being possessed of much good sense, and 
 unfeigned honesty of heart, (a leading feature in his 
 character all through Hfe,) and being truly desirous 
 to know and to teach his people the real truth of 
 God's word, he would not suffer his conscience to be 
 pacified and laid asleep with the too common way of 
 persuading himself, that both he and the apostle 
 meant in reality the same thing, though they evi- 
 dently appeared so opposite ; neither could he bear 
 the thoughts of being a teacher of false doctrine to 
 the people committed to his charge, and that in a 
 point of such essential consequence. Like a worthy 
 and diligent minister of God, therefore, and a faith- 
 ful pastor of his flock, he was determined to take 
 all possible pains to inform himself clearly on the 
 subject: to this end he applied himself, with all 
 his power, to every probable source of information. 
 Hammond, Whitby, Grotius, with others of the 
 most eminent commentators, were consulted with the 
 utmost care and attention; but all in vain. These 
 gave him no relief.* He found they understood 
 
 • From much experience and observation, it was the advice of 
 Mr. Adam, to young divines especially, not to be too forward in 
 taking their sense of the Scriptures from commentators. And we 
 will venture to assert the justice of the caution. — If it be asked, 
 Where then can we go in cases of difficulty? it is answered, 
 Where Mr. Adam went, that is, to God iyi prayer ; comparing one 
 
32 
 
 the case no better than himself, and was amazed to 
 see men of sense and understanding take pains to 
 impose upon themselves and others, by labouring to 
 no purpose, with much expense of learning and argu- 
 ment, to reconcile things so diametrically opposite, 
 and to unite two systems which it is the professed 
 design and intention of the apostle to oppose to each 
 other, and to show their necessary and irreconcil- 
 able contradiction. Rom. xi. 6. 
 
 In this situation of things he went on for some- 
 time, determined not to give up the point without 
 obtaining full satisfaction, though to all appearance 
 no nearer than when he first began, and even per- 
 plexed more and more. He could not suppose in- 
 deed that St. Paul could be wrong, being persuaded 
 of the divine inspiration which attended his writings, 
 or that things which he had written were indeed un- 
 intelligible, much less that he would really inculcate 
 or encourage licentiousness of life. Like a truly 
 sensible man, he began to suspect that the fault must 
 be in himself, and in the system which he had 
 adopted, and that he had not properly considered the 
 apostle's doctrine, with all its connexions and rela- 
 tions : leaving therefore the bewildering guidance of 
 commentators and expositors, he betook himself to 
 the fountain of all knowledo^e, beseeching God him- 
 self to teach and direct him.* 
 
 part of the word of God with another, and humbly looking to him 
 for his teaching and direction. Let this he duly tried, and we 
 doubt not its success will prove the soundness of the observation. 
 A clear insiglit will then be often given into the true sense, by 
 such a satisfactory solution as no comment can afford, and our 
 faith stand not in the wisdom of man, but in the power of God. 
 Psalm cxix. 18. John vi. 4-a. James i. 5. 
 * While our Author's mind was thus aflFected, many of his 
 
33 
 
 One morning in his study, being much distressed 
 on the subject, he fell down upon his knees before 
 God in prayer, spread his case before the divine Ma- 
 jesty and Goodness, imploring him to pity his dis- 
 tress, and to guide him by his Holy Spirit into the 
 right understanding of his own truth. When he 
 arose from his supplication, he took the Greek Tes- 
 tament and sat himself down to read the six first 
 chapters of the Epistle to the Romans, sincerely 
 desirous to be taught of God, and to receive, in the 
 simplicity of a child, the word of his revelation : 
 when, to his unspeakable comfort and astonishment, 
 his difficulties vanished; — a most clear and satisfac- 
 tory light was given him into this great subject. He 
 saw the doctrine of justification by Jesus Christ 
 alone, through faith, to be the great subject of the 
 gospel — the highest display of the divine perfections 
 
 friends and acquaintances feared, lest he was going out of his 
 senses, through too great study and care about religion. This is 
 nothing uncommon. The httle attention which most people give 
 to their souls, and the slight views which they have of the evil of 
 sin, together with their lamentable ignorance of the great truths 
 of God's word, make them form that suspicion of all who begin 
 seriously to consider the infinite importance of tliese things, and 
 to feel their weight; whereas it is only the just and natural effect 
 
 of a right conviction of sin What should call for our distressing 
 
 grief, if sin against God does not? Or what should engage all 
 our anxiety equally with a concern how we may obtain pardon, 
 and recover the divine favour? Our Author was lost here. The 
 means which he had tried were ineffectual. His own soul and 
 his people's were at stake; and till this great ditiieulty was 
 solved, it is no wonder that his mind could find no rest. Who- 
 ever consults the Scriptures, will find that there is nothing new 
 in such circumstances. Psalms vi. xxxii. Ixxvii. cxxx. with many 
 other parts, will show a similar situation of things in the minds 
 of the true servants of God in those times, nor has it been other- 
 wise in any age of the church; and, we may venture to assert, 
 that this 7nad7iess (if such it be called) is far wiser than the wisdom 
 of the world. 
 
 b3 
 
34. 
 
 — the happiest relief for his burdened conscience — 
 and the most powerful principle of all constant and 
 unfeigned holiness of heart and life. He was re- 
 joiced exceedingly: he found peace and comfort 
 spring up in his mind; his conscience was purged 
 from guilt through the atoning blood of Christ, and 
 his heart set at liberty to run the way of God's com- 
 mandments without fear, in a spirit of filial love and 
 holy delight ; and from that hour he began to preach 
 salvation through faith in Jesus Christ alone, to 
 man, by nature and practice lost, and condemned 
 under the law ; and, as his own expression is, always 
 a sinner.* 
 
 His sermons, though before animated by an honest 
 zeal, were no longer mere lectures of morality, or 
 filled only with legal condemnation. While all godli- 
 ness in principle and practice was duly enforced, the 
 enlivening display of that glorious Saviour, whose 
 worth and excellence he had now tasted, and who 
 was become all his salvation and all his desire, sea- 
 soned every discourse. 
 
 Those excellent and searching lectures on the 
 church catechism, which have met with the general 
 approbation of good men, and have passed through 
 several editions, and which discover, in so eminent a 
 manner, the able divine and experienced Christian, 
 were the early fruit of this alteration in his views of 
 
 * In gratitude to God for his great mercy in opening his eyes, 
 as well as to assist such of his fellow-creatures as might be in his 
 case, he afterwards, in the year 1771, published a paraphrase of 
 the eleven first chapters of the Epistle to the Romans, (in which 
 all the doctrinal part is contained,) where the reader will find the 
 whole scheme of our redemption laid open in a most clear and 
 masterly manner, with many excellent improvements and. obser- 
 vations. 
 
35 
 
 Christianity. A happy evidence of the great benefit 
 which he had hereby received, and of his earnest 
 zeal and ability to communicate it for the advantage 
 of others. 
 
 About the time that this change took place, he 
 stumbled (to use his own expression in the case) on 
 some of the writings of that famous champion of the 
 reformation, Martin Luther. If he had seen these 
 in his former state, when he was well contented with 
 his own righteousness, we may justly suppose he 
 would at once have rejected them with the utmost 
 disdain and abhorrence, as the very quintessence of 
 Antinomianism ; and, however he might reverence 
 St. Paul, as being an inspired apostle, would have 
 made no hesitation to have spurned them from him, 
 as contrary to the gospel of Christ, and subversive 
 of all true godliness. This many, doubtless, have 
 done through want of the same divine teaching re- 
 specting their real state, of which Mr. Adam was 
 now happily become the subject. But his mind be- 
 ing now brought down, and, by the discipline of the 
 law, convincing him deeply of his sinfulness, even in 
 his best state ; he was so far from being offended at 
 the boldness of expression,* and freedom of senti- 
 
 * It will readily be allowed, that there are in the writings ot 
 Martin Luther some expressions which seem to savour of Anti- 
 nomianism, and from which imputation it would be very difficult 
 to defend them against a critical scrutiny ; — but that they were 
 never meant in that light is evident, not only from their admitting 
 of a very different sense when candidly considered with their con- 
 text, but from Luther's writings against the Anabaptists of his 
 times, on this very account. 
 
 The genius and temper of the writer must be considered, as 
 well as the age in which he lived, and the fundamental errors 
 which he combated. He was a plain blunt man, and had an 
 aversion to those softenings which are so fashionable in the pre- 
 
36 
 
 ment, which he there met with, that he perceived 
 them to be the very thing which his soul wanted, and 
 the doctrine of St. Paul; and that, however many 
 may affect to admire the one, who yet at the same 
 time reject and make light of the other, they must 
 in reality stand or fall- together ; since they both 
 speak one and the same thing, and all the objections 
 which are prudentially brought against the reformer, 
 lie equally, in all their force, against the inspired 
 apostle also, and against the doctrine which he so 
 strenuously inculcates. 
 
 This celebrated writer, therefore, was ahvays his 
 peculiar favourite, and often would he, with much 
 thankfuhiess to God, and gratitude of heart, acknow- 
 ledge to his friends, the singular help which he found 
 from his writings, particularly from his excellent 
 comment on the Epistle to the Galatians, highly re- 
 commending it to their serious perusal, for its ad- 
 mirable use, and truly evangelical doctrine.* 
 
 In this blessed and happy faith of the gospel, 
 
 sent day, and tliought they would injure the force of what he said, 
 and make it less pointed against those errors which he had it in 
 bis heart to demolish. And although such bold strokes may give 
 offence to those that feel nothing of his real want of a Saviour; 
 yet they that know the urgency of their case like Mr. Adam, will 
 find them the only remedy that can reach their disorder. And 
 while tlijc cold enervated exactness of the wise and prudent affords 
 them no relief, this will be a balm to their wounded consciences, 
 and the richest cordial to their fainting souls. And, may we not 
 add, that the divine blessing, which has in all ages attended Lu- 
 ther's works, is no inconsiderable argument in favour of their 
 truth and soundness. 
 
 • From the deficiency of our sources of information resi)ccting 
 Mr. Adam, in this part of his life, it is very difficult to know how 
 to arrange the two last mentioned circumstances. Of the facts 
 themselves we are certain, but cannot positively affirm that we 
 relate them in their exact order as to time, nor indeed is it very 
 material. 
 
37 
 
 he went on from this time to the very end of his 
 days, growing in grace, and in the knowledge of his 
 Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, and adorning the 
 doctrine of God his Saviour in all things, by his 
 truly Christian life and conversation : nor did in- 
 creasing years, experience and reading, give him any 
 ground to alter the opinion which he had now 
 espoused, or to depart from it in any degree ; but, on 
 the contrary, he was daily confirmed more and more, 
 both in the truth and in the necessity of these doc- 
 trines, while he found them, in sickness and in 
 health, a sovereign cordial to his heart, and the 
 alone, but all-sufficient support of his soul. This 
 testimony he fully bore to them in his last illness, 
 frequently repeating to his friends around him, " I 
 find my foundation able to bear me." 
 
 His departure was full of that serenity and peace 
 which arise from a true acquaintance with Christ and 
 his salvation. His body, worn out with repeated 
 attacks of his disorder, and with increasing years and 
 infirmity, gradually sunk into the arms of death, 
 while his soul winged its happy flight into the bosom 
 of that blessed Redeemer, who had lonw been his 
 portion and his all. 
 
 On the 31st day of March, 1784, and in the 
 84th year of his age, he departed without a groan, 
 and sweetly fell asleep in Jesus. 
 
 Thus lived and died this eminent servant of Jesus 
 Christ, full of days and full of grace ; gathered as a 
 shock of corn in its season into the garner of his hea- 
 venly Master. May we have grace to follow his 
 good example; and may the Holy Spirit lead us on 
 by the same way, to the same rest which remaineth 
 for the people of God ! 
 
d8 
 
 His character as a scholar was very respectable. 
 He had learning without ostentation ; and, to a good 
 acquaintance with the Greek and Latin classics, 
 joined a considerable knowledge of Hebrew and the 
 writings of the Fathers. But, though a man of 
 taste, and well able to distinguish himself in the 
 circle of letters, he made it a point of conscience to 
 lay aside the scholar when he addressed his people, 
 and studied to accommodate himself to the capacity 
 of the meanest of his hearers, that none might be 
 unedified. 
 
 His views of the ministry were serious and hon- 
 ourable. We have already seen how far he was 
 from looking upon it as a profession of advantage, in 
 the answers which he gave to his uncle, and to the 
 Bishop of Lincoln. He could not bear to see or to 
 hear of the prostitution of the sacred character to 
 such low and unworthy ends. A minister of Jesus 
 Christ, appeared to him a person devoted to the ser- 
 vice of God and the souls of men, and, therefore, not 
 at liberty to live after his own will, and spend his in- 
 come as he would that of an estate ; but, as this is 
 appropriated to him out of the substance of the 
 people for the labour of their souls, he is in all duty 
 and conscience bound to reside amongst them, to lay 
 himself out for their good, and attend to their benefit 
 and instruction. " Meditate upon these things, — 
 give thyself wholly to them," — was his standing 
 motto for a minister of the gospel of Christ. 
 
 His discourses, which have been already pub- 
 lished,* sufficiently show his ability as a divine, and 
 
 * Mr. Adam published a volume of sermons in 1781, besides 
 some single discourses preached on different occasions. 
 
39 
 
 the faithful manner in which he discharged his great 
 office amongst his people : they are full of weighty 
 matter, and are most honest and direct addresses to 
 the heart and conscience. The heart, indeed, was 
 ever his peculiar study. Being deeply acquainted 
 with its exceeding deceitfulness and evil, his atten- 
 tion was always particularly directed here. Hence 
 it was the great object of his ministry to undeceive 
 his fellow-creatures respecthig their own imagined 
 righteousness, to detect them to themselves, to strip 
 them of their vain pretences, and to bring them in 
 guilty before God and their own consciences. For 
 he well knew, that till this is done, Christ and his 
 salvation are of little or no value. " They that are 
 whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.'* 
 After the example of his divine Master, it was his 
 constant endeavour to establish true humility as the 
 ground-work of Christ's religion. Not that affected 
 resemblance of it, which is often put on to please the 
 world, and leaves the heart all the time unhumbled, 
 and only more pleased with itself because of this its 
 supposed excellence ; but that true lowliness of soul, 
 which is founded in a deep sense of its sinfulness, 
 and exceeding un worthiness before God. This was 
 the humility which he laboured after for himself and 
 others — a humility proceeding from a divine princi- 
 ple, and influencing the whole man. He pitied the 
 high and inconsiderate profession of many who love 
 to put themselves forward, and to be looked upon as 
 somebody in the religious world ; and esteemed the 
 complaints and self-accusations of a broken and con- 
 trite heart, a far better evidence of a Christian state, 
 than the loudest pretensions of the bold and self- 
 confident. 
 
40 
 
 The practical parts of Christianity had ever his 
 most sacred attention and regard, and were strongly 
 enforced as the necessary and inseparable consequence 
 of true saving faith : for, though no man ever gloried 
 more in the cross of Christ, or was more full and 
 clear in maintaining the doctrine of Christ's blood 
 and righteousness, as the only justification and hope 
 of the soul, yet did he ever in the strongest terms 
 inculcate, that they who have believed in God should 
 be careful to maintain good works.* A strict and 
 conscientious adherence to integrity and uprightness 
 in all our dealings, and to truth and sincerity in our 
 words, was a matter of high consequence in his esti- 
 mation. Hence he entertained a very unfavourable 
 opinion of the religion of those who could suffer 
 themselves to deal in smuggled or prohibited goods; 
 to neglect the duties of their station and calling ; to 
 gratify their pride at the expense of common honesty, 
 by living above their income; or to indulge in need- 
 less expenses, to the injury of their families, and of 
 their ability to do good in acts of charity and bene- 
 volence. 
 
 The religious government of the tongue was like- 
 wise a subject on which he insisted very strongly; I 
 mean, as to its regulation respecting the private con- 
 cerns and character of our neighbour. Nothing 
 seemed to hurt him more than to hear any one take 
 pleasure in speaking ill of others, or retail slanderous 
 reports to their disadvantage; and he would frequently 
 stop them abruptly, by observing to them, that " the 
 roots of the tongue lie very deep ;" or with that re- 
 
 * See Letter, Appendix, No. II. 
 
41 
 
 mark, " I seldom see a fault in another but I look 
 for two in myself, and they generally are not far to 
 seek." 
 
 In the distribution of his time, and the regulation 
 of his family, he observed the most exact order and 
 regularity; not merely on a principle of prudence, 
 and the better conducting of his business, but through 
 a religious sense of the importance of his time and 
 substance, as talents received from God, and of which 
 he was sensible he must give an account. 
 
 His dress, furniture, and mode of living, exhi- 
 bited a model of the most primitive simplicity ; so 
 that, in visiting him, you might imagine yourself a 
 guest with one of the ancient fathers, rather than 
 with a divine of the eighteenth century : nor let any 
 suppose that this proceeded from covetousness, or a 
 base love of money; it arose from the conviction of 
 the exceeding evil of the waste of his talent, a dis- 
 approbation of the sumptuous manner of living, too 
 fashionable amongst the clergy, and a conscientious 
 care that he might have it in his power to relieve the 
 wants of others. 
 
 In the private duties of the closet he was diligent 
 and unremitted. These he considered not only as 
 a discharge of duty, but as indispensably necessary 
 for the life and support of his soul, and as a principal 
 means of maintaining intercourse with God, and 
 gaining those daily supplies of divine grace, which 
 he stood in continual need of as a minister and a 
 Christian. 
 
 His caution and great candour respecting others 
 were also very remarkable, and highly worthy of imi- 
 tation : and though he was firmly established in the 
 
4S 
 
 gospel faith of salvation by Jesus Christ alone, yet 
 was he ever ready to make great allowances for men's 
 different views of things, and distinguished with much 
 care between an error of the head and one of the heart. 
 
 His curate one day asking him what he thought 
 of one of his people, whether the person was a real 
 Christian or not, he seemed to take no notice. — 
 Some days afterwards he called him aside, and said 
 to him, " Sir, you asked me the other day what I 
 thought of the state of A. B. and would probably be 
 surprised that I gave you no reply; but it was not 
 through inattention. It is a point which requires 
 much serious consideration before we determine on 
 the state of any person;" and then proceeded to give 
 his sentiments with his usual candour. 
 
 This is but one instance out of many which might 
 be produced, in proof of that Christian deliberation 
 which he used in his determination in general, and 
 of his particular and close attention to the cardinal 
 grace of 1 Cor. xiii. with which few were better ac- 
 quainted than Mr. Adam. 
 
 The same grace of true Christian charity was emi- 
 nently displayed by him in times of provocation. He 
 was naturally of a very high and warm spirit, and 
 evidently of very quick feelings in cases of this na- 
 ture. But this served only the more fully to display 
 the power of that grace which gave him such happy 
 victory over his passions, that his meekness and hu- 
 mility were the admiration of all that knew him. A 
 clergyman who lived in his family above six years, 
 and had the opportunity of seeing him at all times, 
 and in variety of circumstances, writes of him thus : 
 '* I do not recollect ever to have seen his temper 
 
43 
 
 ruffled above once or twice in all the time that I lived 
 with him. When any thing happened of a trying 
 or provoking kind, he used to turn upon his heel, 
 and say nothing till he had thought it over, and ex- 
 amined whether there was indeed a just cause for 
 anger or not." 
 
 But this conquest of himself was not attained to 
 but by hard conflicts, and in the exercise of much la- 
 bour, watchfulness, and prayer. He was forced to 
 dispute his ground inch by inch, and would often 
 say, " If ever grace was grafted on a crab-stock, it 
 is surely in me." 
 
 In this connection, it would be injustice to omit 
 his forgiveness of injuries. That which was formerly 
 said of Archbishop Cranmer, " Do my Lord of Can- 
 terbury a shrewd turn, and you make him your friend 
 as long as you live," might with the greatest truth 
 be applied to our worthy Author. And often would 
 he requite the ingratitude and rudeness of an ignorant 
 and perverse parishioner, by taking occasion to do 
 him some kind office as soon as possible. 
 
 But among all the graces which adorned his Chris- 
 tian profession, his patience and resignation under 
 the afflicting hand of God were most remarkable. 
 In these he was peculiarly eminent, and exceeded by 
 few that we have either seen or read of. It pleased 
 God to afflict him, for many years before his death, 
 with a disorder of a very peculiar and trying nature, 
 which, through a similarity in some of its symptoms, 
 was, for a time, apprehended to be the stone; and 
 the reader will find frequent references to it, under 
 this description, in the Private Thoughts; but through 
 the whole, the power of divine grace shone with a 
 
44 
 
 most striking splendour, while nothing but meekness 
 and submission were to be seen in his deportment, 
 and adoration and thankfulness heard from his Hps. 
 
 A prayer which he composed, and made use of on 
 these occasions, will give the reader the fullest satis- 
 faction of the truth of this remark.* 
 
 His manner wa^ rather peculiar, but it was easy 
 to perceive it to be the result of much conscientious 
 thought. He spake little, but what he said was full 
 of that weight and gravity which bespoke the philo- 
 sopher and the Christian. Yet this his taciturnity, 
 proceeding also from great natural reserve, must be 
 considered as one of his chief defects, and had its 
 unhappy influence in preventing his greater useful- 
 ness, both amongst his people, and his friends in 
 general : and he himself both saw, and often lamented 
 it in this view. 
 
 Upon the whole, as a minister he was conscien- 
 tious, diligent, and regular ; faithfully attentive to his 
 ministry, filling up his office with great integrity, and 
 adorning it by a suitable life and conversation. 
 
 As a Christian, he was humble, serious, and de- 
 vout ; a sincere follower of his great Master ; sound 
 in the faith and hope of the gospel, and truly exem- 
 plary in every good word and work : an aflPectionate 
 husband, steady friend, kind neighbour, and indul- 
 gent master: and, to sum up all in the words of the 
 worthy clergyman, in his letter before referred to, 
 " If his real character could be held forth, it would 
 well deserve an attentive review and imitation. And 
 though it may be expected that some may think light 
 
 * See Appendix, No. V. 
 
45 
 
 of it, and others sneer at it, as too precise and primi- 
 tive, I doubt not he will one day appear great, and 
 be numbered among the worthiest who will shine 
 forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father.'* 
 
 JAMES STILLINGFLEET. 
 Hotham, 1785. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 That the reader may reap the full benefit of these 
 Thoughts, it seemed proper to obviate a plausible 
 objection, which not only the careless and profane, 
 but even many well-disposed persons may often feel 
 themselves inclined to make. The objection may be 
 conceived to run in this form : " If Mr. Adam was 
 so good a man, how happens it that he should every 
 where be full of such complaints against his own sins 
 and corruptions ? It may be fairly allowed that he 
 should be so in the commencement of his religious 
 course ; but is it not unaccountable, that he should 
 continue so through life ? Is this the benefit of re- 
 ligion, to keep a person in a perpetual state of misery 
 and distress ? The language he uses, would suit the 
 greatest slave to his lusts and vices, but not surely a 
 man of exemplary piety and virtue like Mr. Adam. 
 One would expect that such a man should have en- 
 joyed a continual feast within, from the consciousness 
 of his uprightness and sincerity." 
 
 The objection does not meet the case of our Au- 
 thor only, but that of the most eminent saints, both 
 in ancient and modern times : it deserves, indeed, a 
 more minute discussion than the limits of a preface 
 
48 
 
 will allow. Some few hints, however, may be given, 
 sufficient to clear up the whole affair with minds of 
 any intelligence in divine things. At any rate, they 
 will not be in vain, if the reader finds himself led by 
 them to a more useful and more satisfactory perusal 
 of the Author. 
 
 I. In the first place, however strange to many it 
 may seem, that so confessedly good a man should 
 complain so deeply of his sinfulness all his days, it 
 must be insisted on that there is nothing in it un- 
 scriptural. The doctrines and views of divine reve- 
 lation all confirm the propriety of it. From them it 
 is evident, that true holiness, and a true growth in 
 holiness, are ever attended with such a sense of in- 
 dwelling sin. Let any man carefully attend to St. 
 Paul speaking of himself, Rom. vii. That he is not 
 personating a wicked man, is certain, from the whole 
 tenor of the description. " What I hate," says he, 
 " that do I f and " I delight in the law of God 
 after the inward man.'* To hate sin, and to dehght 
 in the law of God, belong only to a person of real 
 piety ; nor is there any thing in the whole account, 
 which would lead us to suspect that he means to 
 speak of himself as being only in the first stage and 
 entrance of practical Christianity. From the 7th to 
 the 14th verse, he speaks indeed of the time past, 
 and is describing the former exercise of his mind with 
 respect to the law -of God, and which he experienced 
 in his conviction and conversion. But from the 14th 
 verse to the end of the chapter, he plainly speaks of 
 the time present, and the very feelings of his soul, 
 while he was writing to the Romans. No other 
 sense can certainly be put on them, without offering 
 
49 
 
 an intolerable violence to all the rules of grammatical 
 construction. Toward the end of the chapter, he 
 looks forward indeed to the time to come, when, 
 groaning in the bitterness of his spirit under present 
 pressures and afflictions, he cries out, " O wretched 
 man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the body 
 of this death ?" and relieves himself with this answer, 
 " I thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord." 
 He certainly expected deliverance, but it was in the 
 world to come. And in the next chapter, he explains 
 more distinctly how the saints " shall be delivered 
 from the bondage of corruption into the glorious 
 liberty of the children of God;" but here they wait 
 for it with patience, and the Spirit helpeth their in- 
 firmities." This is the natural and obvious sense of 
 the apostle ; and if it need any confirmation, it may 
 receive it from various other passages in his Epistles. 
 But as brevity must be studied, I would only desire 
 the reader to compare the chapter which has been 
 considered, with Gal. v. The same inward conflict, 
 which is more largely described in the former chapter, 
 is thus briefly illustrated in the latter: " For the 
 flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against 
 the flesh : and these are contrary the one to the 
 other; so that ye cannot do the things that ye would ;" 
 though, on the whole, they are " led by the Spirit" 
 in their walk. Nor is there the least intimation 
 given that things will ever be otherwise with them, 
 while they are " waiting for the hope of righteous- 
 ness by faith." It is not true only of St. Paul, then, 
 but of all real Christians in the world, whether weak 
 or strong, whether babes, young men, or fathers in 
 Christ, that the conflict described in Romans vii. 
 C 7 
 
50 
 
 belongs to them all. However difficult it may be 
 for many to account for the repeated complaints, and 
 sense of sin, in which the Author of the following 
 Thoughts abounds, it is certain at least, that St, 
 Paul, and with him all true Christians, have ever had 
 the same: nor is there an expression more deeply 
 descriptive of sin and misery in the following pages, 
 than those made use of by the inspired apostle : " I 
 am carnal, sold under sin. — What I do, I allow not. 
 What I would, that do I not; — sin dwelleth in me. 
 I know that in me, that is, in my flesh," or sinful 
 nature, what is properly my own, " dwelleth no good 
 thing. — When I would do good, evil is present with 
 me. — I see another law in my members warring 
 against the law of my mind, and bringing me into 
 captivity." 
 
 " O wretched man that I am !" These are not 
 words of course. There are no words of course in 
 the sacred oracles. Here is a very animated sensi- 
 bility of woe and distress, because of sin. It is true, 
 he has his reliefs and supports, his joys and consola- 
 tions; and the next chapter powerfully describes them. 
 The candid reader will see too, that our Author had 
 the same; and when he farther takes notice of the 
 language of David every where in his Psalms, of 
 Asaph in the Ixxiii. of Heman in the Ixxxviii. of 
 At^ar in Proverbs xxx. of Ezra in his ixth chapter, 
 indeed of real good men in general, whether in Scrip- 
 ture or elsewhere, when speaking of themselves, the 
 edge of his surprise may be blunted, and he may at 
 length begin to think that our Author speaks only 
 as the Scriptures fully vindicate, and as the best of 
 men have reason to do. 
 
51 
 
 Yet still he may think the objection by no means 
 answered, at least the difficulty by no means accounted 
 for. Let him not be offended, if he be told, that he 
 himself needs a better acquaintance with his own 
 heart, and with the methods of divine grace. How 
 these things can be, shall be explained as concisely 
 as possible; but those only to whom " a broken and 
 contrite heart" hath given some light into this sub- 
 ject, will be expected duly to relish it. 
 
 II. In an unconverted person, there is but one 
 nature : in a real Christian there are two ; the one 
 is called the " flesh," the other the "spirit." These 
 terms do not relate to the conflict between reason and 
 passion, of which the pagan philosophers wrote, but 
 to the conflict between all that is of man by nature, 
 whether reason, passion, or whatever else, and all 
 that is of the grace of God in Jesus Christ, com- 
 municated through the Holy Ghost. Each nature 
 has its distinct exercise in the same man ; the result 
 must be two sets, as it were, of aftections, views, and 
 propensities. This consideration alone accounts for 
 the seeming paradox, that St. Paul should speak such 
 apparent contradictions. If the reader be apt to 
 wonder that Mr. Adam should sometimes speak so 
 triumphantly of the happiness and holiness of a 
 Christian, at other times so feelingly of his corruption 
 and misery, he must be understood to speak with 
 reference to these two states ; and it will be a suffi- 
 cient apology to say in his behalf, that the same 
 seeming inconsistency is in St. Paul himself. He 
 who, in Romans vii. is " carnal, sold under sin," is 
 in the viii. made " free from the law^ of sin and death." 
 Each assertion has its truth, as reference is made to 
 c2 
 
50, 
 
 each of the states in which he is conversant. In one 
 sense he is wicked, miserable, unclean, a slave of all 
 that is evil; in another, he is holy, happy, pure in 
 heart, the Lord's freeman, and an heir of heaven. 
 It is not to be wondered at, that the conflict of such 
 opposite views and principles should produce various 
 exercises in the human heart; and that a mind vi- 
 gorous and intelligent, like our Author's, would be 
 led to take large notice of them in viewing his own. 
 This it is which constitutes the Christian's eternal 
 warfare, which will continue, till death transmit the 
 patient warrior to that rest which remains to the peo- 
 ple of God. 
 
 Perhaps the difficulty which many find in admit- 
 ting that St. Paul was speaking of himself in Rom. 
 vii. will be further obviated, by considering that it is 
 not a practical course of wickedness which he means, 
 when he talks of being " carnal, sold under sin :" 
 concupiscence is the term he uses, and this is what 
 he means by indwelling sin. It is the tendency of 
 the carnal mind, which is enmity against God, that 
 he complains of, as perpetually exerting ij;self in in- 
 ward opposition to the will of God, and continually 
 marking with imperfection the best of his purposes 
 and actions. Did not the Christian himself inform 
 us of it, it would often be scarcely discernible, seldom 
 or never in a great degree, by others, that he had 
 this sinful propensity. His walk is not after the 
 flesh, but after the Spirit, as St. Paul declares. And 
 the general prevalency of holiness in his conduct, is 
 the standing evidence of his sincere conversion. For 
 
 o 
 
 sin shall in no sense have dominion over any true 
 children of God. And it is their privilege to grow 
 
5S 
 
 in all practical godliness more and more, notwith- 
 standing the strength and violence of their inbred 
 foes. Persons unacquainted with these things miglit 
 think St. Paul speaks a language proper only for a 
 murderer, an adulterer, or a robber; but the truth 
 is, the evils which he feels are mere trifles, or even 
 no evils at all, in the eyes of the greater part of man- 
 kind. And were this matter properly understood, 
 the candid reader might see, that it is the superior 
 holiness of the man which drew from him that deep 
 sigh, " O wretched man that 1 am !" and not an 
 Antinomian spirit, as this interpretation of the apos- 
 tle has been too uncandidly represented ; that in pro- 
 portion to men's growth in a gracious sensibility, 
 these complaints (if cordial, and not affected com- 
 plaints) will be more pungent and intense, because 
 sin grows more and more offensive to the taste, and 
 the man will naturally be led to be more and more 
 displeased with himself, the more reason the rest of 
 mankind have to be pleased with all his conduct. 
 This seems a true account of St. Paul's case, and 
 the discerning reader will see that Mr. Adam's re- 
 sembles his, and of course will need no better vindi- 
 cation. 
 
 III. It is this deep and abiding sense of internal 
 sin, which lays the foundation for that all-important 
 grace of a Christian's humility. To live under a 
 daily consciousness, that in him " dwelleth no good 
 thing;" if this will not humble us, it will be hard to 
 say what will. Hence, also, the grace of God and 
 his Christ, so suitably adapted to his wants and his 
 miseries, and the scriptural views of the gospel, be- 
 come so unspeakably precious to his heart. Hither 
 
54 
 
 he is obliged continually to repair for relief and sup- 
 port ; and he is not disappointed. The poverty of 
 spirit which this view of things excites in his soul, 
 gives the true relish to his Christian food, and the 
 consolations of divine forgiveness and mercy become 
 the sweetest cordial to his heart. Thus he may in 
 one view be always sorrowful, in another always re- 
 joicing. It will not now be difficult to conceive, that 
 still Wisdom's ways are pleasant ways, and all her 
 paths are peace; though, to a mind jaundiced by 
 pride all things will bear a melancholy hue. And 
 if it be a joyful and pleasant thing to be thankful, 
 the gratitude hence excited towards his God and 
 Redeemer, will repay itself in a feast of the sincerest 
 pleasure. Forgiveness of injuries will, comparatively 
 speaking, grow an easy and pleasant duty to him 
 who daily feels his infinite obligation to a God of 
 forgiveness. Liberality, long-suffering, and genuine, 
 universal benevolence, do obviously grow out of the 
 same soil. And because the indwelling concupiscence 
 still stains every work, and is the chief burden of the 
 Christian's life, hence heaven is desired with ardour 
 inexpressible; covetousness and the love of the world 
 are dethroned in his heart; and that spirit of living 
 for the world to come, and not for this, in which Mr. 
 Adam most eminently excelled, and in which the 
 generality of even true Christians are pitiably defec- 
 tive, will thrive in the soul, in proportion as it grows 
 in a sense of indwelling sin. It were much to be 
 wished, that this subject were better understood than 
 it is. Well-disposed persons would find, that the 
 secret of growing in all true holiness much depends 
 on it. Spiritual comforts would be sought earnestly, 
 
55 
 
 but in a right temper, and with due resignation. They 
 would be grounded more solidly on the hope of heaven 
 in Christ ; and heavenly things themselves would still 
 be more looked for than present consolation. 
 
 The primitive Christians were wont to place daily 
 before their eyes the second coming of Christ, the 
 resurrection of the just, and the scriptural views of 
 heavenly blessedness, as St. Paul's Epistles abundantly 
 evince. If we expect divine consolations in our war- 
 fare, abstracted from these things, we shall be tempted 
 to embrace airy phantoms instead of solid nourish- 
 ment, as too many have done. For if, on the other 
 side, we look at the consequences of other sort of 
 views, it is but too plain that those who are carried 
 out in their expectations beyond the line of sobriety 
 which has been fixed by the apostle, do not grow in 
 holiness, but in pride. The presumptuous are en- 
 couraged, and the sincere are saddened, and real 
 heavenly-mindedness is by no means promoted. 
 
 Thus does it appear, 1st, That the objection which 
 gave occasion to this preface, is answered on the 
 grounds of Scripture ; 2dly, Is invalidated by a fair 
 and candid consideration of the case itself; and, 3dly, 
 Wdl appear destitute even of a shadow of probability, 
 when it is seen that true holiness of life much de- 
 pends on the heartfelt consciousness of that indwelling 
 sin which gives rise to the objection itself. 
 
 Are you, reader, bowed down with a sense of 
 much sin and corruption ? Have you long laboured 
 against it, and are you tempted to think you have 
 done so to little purpose ? Did you expect that by 
 this time you should have been much farther advanced 
 in the divine life, and have had far less to do with 
 
56 
 
 sin, and that none had ever so wicked a heart as 
 yourself? It is a mistake commonly made; and 
 even those who are most fortified against it in their 
 judgment, are yet continually prone to make it. But 
 be not discouraged. The holy man, whose thoughts 
 you are going to peruse, felt the same evils daily 
 which you do, and we have seen reason for conclud- 
 ing, that a still greater degree of the same sensibility 
 may yet be your lot. You would grow in grace : 
 but you must leave to God himself the way and 
 manner of it. Indeed, a very essential part of true 
 holiness lies in this resignation of spirit. Descend 
 more willingly into the valley of humiliation, and 
 you will find comfort in Christ, and strength against 
 sin, to abound more freely. Assure yourself, that a 
 state of uniform ease in religion is a fool's paradise. 
 Much sensible conflict and serious warfare, attended 
 often with great variety of frames, belong to those 
 who yet are thriving Christians, and advancing 
 safely and vigorously towards heaven. Many go on 
 smoothly, unacquainted with their own corruptions 
 and Satan's temptations. Their tranquilhty is more 
 the result of stupefaction than of growth in grace. 
 Be not seduced, by plausible reasonings of those of 
 lower attainments in religion, to quit your ground, 
 and follow any other scent than that you are upon. 
 You must trust in the word; you must exercise 
 patience ; you must be content to meet with strange 
 things, such as are very mortifying to flesh and blood, 
 and such as confound the pride of your understand- 
 ing. For in all things, God's ways are not as men's 
 ways : those whom he means to fill, must be emptied. 
 Look steadfastly at the grace of Christ by faith, and 
 
S7 
 
 at heaven as your aim, and you will never want either 
 consolation or fruitfulness by the way. 
 
 Those must, however, be solemnly warned, who 
 would abuse the ffrace of God to licentiousness. For 
 
 o 
 
 some may abound in complaints of themselves all 
 their days, and, fancying that to be a sufficient mark 
 of humility, content themselves in their present state, 
 sinning that grace may abound. What has been 
 said, was meant to instruct the ignorant, and to cor- 
 rect some mistakes in the sincere, concerning the na- 
 ture of true holiness, and the way of growing in it. 
 It was not meant to harden you in your vain pre- 
 sumption. If your complaints be sincere, the con- 
 stant tenor of an humble, charitable, heavenly-minded 
 life, will evidence it. But if you can go on in the 
 love of the world, and in the practical indulgence of 
 sin at your ease, be assured the sensations of the 
 writer you are going to read, are in their whole na- 
 ture distinct from yours. Learn to repent and be- 
 lieve the gospel. 
 
 Some readers of the following papers may belong 
 to those professors of godliness, who rather affect a 
 rational cast of thinking, and, thowgh not void of the 
 love of heavenly things, are yet too much in danger 
 of being carried away by the strong current of the 
 age, which prides itself in accuracy of reasoning. 
 The Thoughts of our venerable Author will rather 
 offend your taste. If you can see enough in him to 
 cause you to respect him as a Christian, you will be 
 tempted to think meanly, however, of his judgment 
 in religion. But beware of forming a rash conclu- 
 sion. He was unquestionably a man of deep thought, 
 strong sense, and in personal holiness a shining light 
 c 3 
 
58 
 
 in his day. You have reason to suspect, then, that 
 his spiritual understanding must have been very good, 
 even better than your own. What if that too prac- 
 tical conformity to the world — that strong desire of 
 human applause — that too eager taste after the best 
 worldly things, as human literature and philosophy — 
 and that habitual deadness in divine things, which 
 for years have been your burden, arise from the low- 
 ness of your view in real religion. You too hastily 
 take it for granted, that you know all that is to be 
 known; you affect a simplicity in religion, but a sim- 
 plicity more like that of a philosopher than a Chris- 
 tian. You have too great an aversion to the depth 
 of Christian mysteries. Could you be persuaded to 
 pray more fervently, and submit in a more childlike 
 and reverent manner to the teachings of God's Spirit, 
 you might find something in the thoughts of this 
 man of God more suitably useful to your souls, and 
 well calculated to advance you in the Christian life. 
 
 After all that can be said, if these Thoughts should 
 fall into the hands of persons unacquainted with the 
 whole of vital religion, no prefatory explanation can 
 render them agreeable. " The natural man receiv- 
 eth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are 
 foolishness unto him ; neither can he know them, 
 because they are spiritually discerned," 1 Cor. ii. 14. 
 The most obvious, if not the only use, which such 
 can make of them, is, to take occasion from thence 
 to suspect their own ignorance and unconverted state; 
 to seek diligently the means of light and recovery, 
 and to ask wisdom from above, with a power of con- 
 viction to which they have hitherto been strangers, 
 even wisdom from that God, '* who giveth liberally 
 
59 
 
 to all men, and upbraideth not, and it shall be given 
 them," James i. 6. 
 
 Something it may be necessary to add respecting 
 the form in which these Private Thoufjhts of Mr. 
 Adam are presented to the public. They are ex- 
 tracted from a kind of Diary, wl^rein, during more 
 than thirty years, he occasionally wrote his sentiments 
 on a variety of subjects, as they arose in his mind, 
 without observing any particular order or method, 
 and very seldom prefixing a date. In this state it 
 came into the hands of the Editors, to whom the 
 Author had committed the care of his papers, with a 
 discretionary power to publish or suppress what they 
 pleased. Struck with the remarkable honesty and 
 wisdom that appeared in the observations it contained, 
 they thought that such a selection might be made 
 for the press, as would greatly tend to illustrate the 
 subject of human nature, and a work of grace upon 
 the heart. In order to make these select observa- 
 tions more useful, it was thought necessary to reduce 
 them into some order, and class them under certain 
 heads. This has been attempted in the way which , 
 the Editors of Mons. Pascal's " Thoughts on Re- 
 ligion" tell us, in their preface, they pursued. A 
 distinct chapter is allotted to each subject, and a re- 
 gular method is aimed at, in the order and connexion 
 of the subjects. This attempt was not without its 
 difficulties. Many of the Author's observations be- 
 ing of a complex kind, it was not easy to fix upon 
 the leading sentiment, so as to assign them their 
 proper place. Some inaccuracy will perhaps be dis- 
 covered, and some indulgence is requested of the 
 pubHc, in this respect. Under the head of Confes- 
 
60 
 
 sions, which is the title of the first chapter, will be 
 found most of those devout aspirations and reflec- 
 tions, whether of a penitential or a thankful kind, 
 which lie scattered about in the Author's Diary; and 
 under the term. Christian Life, which is the title of 
 another chapter, t}^ Editors meant to give all his 
 observations that relate to those exercises, conflicts, 
 and circumstances, that peculiarly constitute and at- 
 tend the " life of God in the soul of man." 
 
 The reader has been prepared for that appearance 
 of inconsistency, which he will meet with in the fol- 
 lowing work. If he will but keep in remembrance 
 the existence of two opposite principles in a believer's 
 breast, and is able to enter into the meaning of the 
 apostle's character of himself and his brethren, " as 
 sorrowful, yet always rejoicing," he will see nothing 
 absurd or contradictory in our Author's views. 
 Whatever belongs to the dark side of the subject, 
 such as the guilt and misery of our fallen state, the 
 pride and hypocrisy that lurks within us, and the bitter 
 and deadly workings of our carnal mind, will chiefly be 
 found in the chapter of Human Depravity. On the 
 other hand, that which relates to the bright side of 
 the subject, namely, the comfortable doctrine of jus- 
 tification, the blessed hope of eternal life, and the 
 rich consolation which the gospel affords, will prin- 
 cipally be met with under the following titles — Jesus 
 Christ — Faith — Heaven, The chapter on Resigna- 
 tion, will include the Author's thoughts on the bene- 
 fit of afflictions, and the use of the pains, diseases, 
 and crosses, that attend this mortal life. The con- 
 nexion between the titles of the other chapters, and 
 the sentiments they contain, will perhaps be found 
 
61 
 
 sufficiently obvious. In order to avoid the incon- 
 venience of an endless multiplication of heads, it was 
 thought expedient to reduce them to their present 
 number, and to admit many of the observations into 
 the chapters where they stand, with a considerable 
 latitude of interpretation. 
 
PRIVATE THOUGHTS 
 
 ON 
 
 RELIGION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CONFESSIONS. 
 
 O Lord, I yield myself to the clear radiance and 
 full discovery of thy word, to be convinced by it of 
 sin. I know, with infallible certainty, that I have 
 sinned ever since I could discern between good and 
 evil — in thought, word, and deed ; in every period, 
 condition, and relation of life; every day, against 
 every commandment. 
 
 Thy dread Majesty I have not reverenced ; thy 
 sovereign authority, and absolute right over me I 
 have not kept in mind : I have set no value upon 
 communion with thee; my heart has been alienated 
 from thee, my will bent against thee, and 1 have 
 lived inordinately to myself, seeking only my own 
 ease in worldly things, and neglecting my portion in 
 thee. 
 
 I have not made a conscience of improving the 
 talents thou gavest me, for the benefit of others, and 
 
64 
 
 the good of my own soul : but most shamefully and 
 ^vickedly wasted my time in impertinent visiting, idle 
 amusements, riot and excess, and all manner of sen- 
 sual indulgence. 
 
 I have been proud and envious; wrathful, uncha- 
 ritable, and censorious; morose, ill-natured, and im- 
 perious, where I was obliged to show the greatest 
 kindness ; and ungrateful to my best benefactors. I 
 / shall never be better till I know how bad I am, and 
 pray with more feeling. 
 
 I am in danger of losing two of the most precious 
 things in the world, God's favour, and my own soul; 
 and yet at ease. It is the desperateness of my dis- 
 temper that I am at ease. 
 
 I am lying under the curse of a disobedient, pas- 
 sionate will. What pleases God does not please 
 me, but often vexes, frets, hurts me, harrows up my 
 soul. 
 
 O when shall I feel the plague of sin, and long 
 for a deliverance from it, as I would from a sore dis- 
 ease of my body ! 
 
 Sin is still here, deep in the centre of my heart, 
 and twisted about every fibre of it. Does my de- 
 liverance consist chiefly in the removal of it from my 
 heart, or in the remission which is in Christ ? 
 
 Is sin such a plague and burden to me, that I 
 should think myself undone if there were no God to 
 hear and answer my prayers for deliverance from it ? 
 
 Who was it that said, " I will not sin against my 
 God?" Who can say less? Why do not I say it? 
 
 All I have been doing in religion ; the opinions I 
 have taken up ; the appearance of it I have put on ; 
 my seeming zeal for it — have too often been nothing 
 
65 
 
 but a contrivance to keep the Spirit's fire out of my 
 heart, and give some kind of ease to my mind and 
 conscience, without coming to the true point, namely, 
 pure conformity to the will of God, with a total de- 
 nial of self. 
 
 My great controversy is with myself; and I am 
 resolved to have none with others, till I have put 
 things upon a better footing at home. 
 
 What will the next hour do for me that this can- 
 not? 
 
 Past sin I see, and lament ; but not present sin, 
 though struggling against it ; or not in all its guilt, 
 and as I shall see it hereafter. 
 
 Go, sin, (and, O Lord, do thou speak it this day 
 with my heart!) go for ever, thou rebel to God, 
 thou crucifier of Christ, thou griever of the Spirit, 
 thou curse of the earth, thou poison in my blood, 
 thou plague of my soul, and bane of all my happi- 
 ness ! 
 
 I content myself with telling God that I want his 
 graces, and yet can bear well enough to be without 
 them. 
 
 Devoted to ease and sloth, never easy but in do- 
 ing nothing, and always contriving to have nothing 
 to do. 
 
 If I love God, I must love him for his holiness, 
 and how then can I love sin ? Nevertheless, I have 
 full conviction in myself, that I do not hate it as I 
 ought. 
 
 Where have I not sinned? The reason is evi- 
 dent, I carry myself about with me. 
 
 I would have joy of Christ, and take possession of 
 his benefits, without his heart, without entering into 
 his views, or taking part in his labours. 
 
66 
 
 It is my great unhappiness, and curse of nature, 
 that I cannot please both God and myself. 
 
 " Grant that this day I fall into no sin." When I 
 was saying these words, (Feb. 23, 1T63,) I sinned 
 grievously, by an uncharitable thought of C. S. 
 
 I pray faintly, and with reserve, merely to quiet 
 conscience, for present ease, and almost wishing not 
 to be heard. In a full prayer for full deliverance, 
 there is hope. 
 
 All my reading, and pursuit of knowledge, is more 
 with a view to talking, than my own private use, or 
 the benefit of others. 
 
 Day by day, I am in pursuit of pleasure from ani- 
 mal gratifications, and my life is still propped by sen- 
 suality, only a little more decently than formerly. 
 
 I should be ready to die with shame and vexation, 
 if others knew what I have been doing in the world, 
 and what I am ; it gives me but little concern that 
 the eye of God is always upon me. 
 
 In bodily ailments, I look out every way for help 
 without delay. I have no such anxiety for my soul, 
 though I feel the plague of it, and know of an infal- 
 lible physician. 
 
 If I might have my beloved enjoyment, and live 
 cordially to my own will as long as I pleased, I do 
 not perceive that I should choose to die soon, and go 
 to heaven, for the sake of being with God, and freed 
 from sin. 
 
 In a state of greater danger and horror from self, 
 (January, 1768,) than if I was in a town on fire at 
 midnight, with two lions, a tiger, and three bears 
 broke loose, and devouring all before them. 
 
 Two things I know with infallible certainty, — that 
 
67 
 
 I cannot help myself, and that I am unhelped. I 
 have wishes, form resolutions, make efforts, say 
 prayers, mention particular sins ; but do not find that 
 I am a jot better. The only hopeful thing in my 
 case is, that I do not despair. 
 
 Whether a late occurrence was a providential di- 
 rection or not, it has convinced me, beyond all doubt, 
 that I never reflected enough upon the uncertainty 
 and emptiness of worldly things, and that my heart 
 and treasure are not so much in heaven as I imagined. 
 
 *' Woe be to the idle (Heb. good for nothing) 
 shepherd !" I am a sinful creature. Lord, pardon 
 me, and pity my weakness, and make me duly sen- 
 sible of what I am, that I may humble myself before 
 thee. Preserve me from self-love, and from the love 
 of the world, and from the workings of a carnal mind, 
 and bring me back again to thyself, through Jesus 
 Christ, by the Spirit. Amen. 
 
 I want one point of selfishness, which is, to con- 
 vert the word of God to my own use. All the re- 
 flections I make upon the pride, corruption, blind- 
 ness, and deadly fall of man, upon the necessity of 
 the daily cross, and death to the world, I bestow 
 freely upon others ; and am hindered, by the deceit- 
 fulness of my own heart, and the artifice of the devil, 
 from turning the edge of them upon myself. 
 
 I have just religion enough to make me gloomy, 
 morose, proud, censorious ; but not enough to make 
 me cheerful, easy, good-natured, humble, and chari- 
 table. 
 
 The same failings, perverse tempers, and evil 
 habits which I see and abhor justly in others, I know 
 and believe to be in myself, and possibly in a higher 
 
68 
 
 degree ; and yet, in spite of my reason, judgment, 
 and conviction, in spite of all the efforts I can use, I 
 neither do nor can see them in the same light in 
 myself that I do in others. 
 
 I have lived hitherto in a continual state of dark- 
 ness, deception, and lying to myself. Though I have 
 practised one kind of self-denial, so as to be taken 
 by some, and almost to take myself for a Christian 
 indeed, I now find, by a recent instance, that the 
 chain which binds me to the world, is as strong as 
 ever. I am resolved for the future, not to believe 
 any thing of myself till after a sufficient time of trial. 
 
 I want humility — for what? To be admired. 
 My pride will hardly let me believe this, though I 
 fear it is truth. 
 
 A certain person told me, that in advising, speak- 
 ing of religious matters, and recommending religious 
 truths, I was fierce, passionate, uncondescending. 
 Blessed be God, I am sensible of it : and may God 
 bless my friend for the admonition, though, I fear, 
 it proceeded in part from anger. See, and consider, 
 Gal. V. 19, 26. vi. 1, 3. I cannot help observing, 
 that I had a very strong touch of this matter upon my 
 spirit, a day or two before my friend told me of it. 
 
 When I hear of any crime or series of villany, I 
 think I have got a plausible occasion of giving full 
 scope to the passion of hatred, and my indignation 
 immediately rises to the utmost: but then I feel dis- 
 tinctly within myself that it is not against the sin, 
 but the person ; and, without any mixture of pity, I 
 fairly give him up to destruction, and could rejoice 
 to be the author and instrument of his sufi:erings. 
 And though this might be excused, as proceeding 
 
69 
 
 from a proper detestation of vice, yet I fear tlierc is 
 little in it, at the bottom, besides pride and self-con- 
 ceit, which are always accompanied with a lurking, 
 diabolical malignity of heart. 
 
 When I see others astonishingly blind to their 
 failings, I suppose it to be my own case, and should 
 think that man my friend who helps to open my eyes. 
 
 The great work is still to do; the heart is kept 
 back, and God will accept nothing less from me. 
 My guilt is damnable in withholding it, because I 
 know and believe his love, and what Christ has done 
 to gain my consent — O heavens ! to what ? My 
 own happiness. 
 
 I should be ready and willing to show my warmest 
 gratitude to the person who can give me ease from 
 pain, or tell me of a cure for my body. O Jesus ! 
 what hast thou not done and suffered for my soul ! 
 how coldly do I think of it; how poorly do I re- 
 quite it ! 
 
 Thank God for decay, pain, and suffering ; thank 
 God that I was born to die ; thank God that I can 
 die; thank God the time is near; thank God for the 
 prospect and hope of a better world ; and thank God 
 for strong consolation throucrh Christ. 
 
 I had rather see my own faults than other people's. 
 
 1 will not form any schism, nor have another reli- 
 gion for the world. Help me God ! 
 
 I have been fool enough all my life to do every 
 thing with a view to please, and, for the most part, 
 to defeat my own design. 
 
 I have been ready enough, all my life, to prefer 
 myself to all others. When shall I be Christian 
 enough to honour all men, and sink down into my 
 own nothingness? 
 
70 
 
 St. Paul knew human nature but too well, when 
 he said, " Their feet are swift to shed blood," Rom. 
 iii. 15. I protest I am often catching myself at it; 
 and do verily believe that, if we were sincere, we 
 should find within ourselves abundant proof of the 
 assertion. Strange, that I should be conscious of 
 such a nature, and yet unhumbled ! but then at the 
 worst, and in the worst of men, there is still a capa- 
 bility of goodness ; and therefore, as long as I have 
 breath, I will present my case before the God of my 
 life. " Thou, who hatest evil infinitely, and infi- 
 nitely wiliest the destruction of it, and wiliest not 
 the death of a sinner, discover to me this whole depth 
 and mystery of iniquity, that, seeing it by a ray of 
 light from thee, I may be inspired w4th thy own 
 hatred of it, and enabled by thee to remove all the 
 impediments to the manifestation of thy power and 
 presence in my soul." 
 
 I cannot perceive any other principles in myself 
 than those of fear and shame. I would disobey God 
 if I durst, and, in some instances I even durst do it, 
 upon a confused hope of mercy, or future repentance, 
 if it was not for fear of hurting my reputation. 
 
 When I return to a better temper, after having 
 been under the impressions of black melancholy; that 
 is, from being morose, sullen, discontented, impatient, 
 quarrelsome; I cannot help saying, What a beast 
 and a devil I was, — meaning that I am so no longer. 
 An open confession of this kind, is looked upon as a 
 mark of great ingenuousness, when, in truth, it is 
 nothing but self-deception, counterfeit humility, and 
 a stratagem to reinstate myself in my own good opin- 
 ion, or the esteem of others. The style of the con- : 
 
71 
 
 fession should run in the present tenro, " I am, I 
 am, I am;" for the nature is the same, though at 
 present it may be smoothed over with a handsome 
 appearance, as a filthy puddle is always the same, 
 though it does not always smell alike. 
 
 Prayer and other spiritual exercises are often a 
 weariness to me; a task and a force upon nature. I 
 am but too well pleased with pretences for omitting 
 them ; and when they are over, I feel myself at ease, 
 as it were after the removal of a heavy weight : yet 
 thou, O my Saviour, dost warrant and command my 
 importunity and earnestness in asking under all dis- 
 couragements.; I will therefore still present myself 
 before the throne of grace, notwithstanding the want 
 of sensible consolations. Fear not my soul ; the 
 operations of the Spirit are in secret, and the daily 
 growth of the spiritual man is imperceptible, as that 
 of corn." Mark iv. 27. John iii. 8. 
 
 I have all my life long been considering what I 
 would do in such and such circumstances, and putting 
 off the season of working to some imaginary period, 
 without ever duly considering what I can do at pre- 
 sent, or using the opportunities and abilities I have. 
 
 It is in vain to struggle against nature; or, which 
 is the same thing, habit. No caution, consideration, 
 or effort, howsoever repeated, can set me free. I 
 find myself exactly in the state described by St. Paul, 
 Romans vii. and am always crying out with him, 
 " Who shall deliver me?" What immediately fol- 
 lows, fills me with hope and consolation. I am ab- 
 solutely certain that my deliverance must come from 
 God ; and if he pleases to offer it, I will not be so 
 perverse as' to take up needless exceptions to his 
 
72 
 
 method. There is a great deal in the person and 
 religion of Clirist to engage my attention; and I 
 want deliverance so much, that I could almost accept 
 it from the hands of Mahomet, if he could give it. 
 
 1 have for some years been giving myself airs in 
 religion, and assuming a post which does by no means 
 belong to me. I fancied that I must necessarily be 
 something extraordinary, because I endeavoured to 
 be so. I am sensible that all the while I advanced 
 in nothing but outside and hypocrisy. I now see 
 the reason of it. The work was my own, and the 
 event, accordingly, shame and confusion, and convic- 
 tion of my own impotence. 
 
 1 know that I am hateful and contemptible, and 
 yet I cannot help idolizing that painted thing which 
 I myself am ; nor do I ever think worse of any man 
 for being so mistaken as to offer me the incense of 
 his esteem. 
 
 In points wherein I thought it was clear I could 
 almost stand upon my own defence before God, I 
 daily discover my hypocrisy and infinite defects. 
 " Lord, what is man ! in thy sight shall no flesh be 
 justified;" no, not in any one instance! 
 
 The doctrine of faith in a Redeemer, I find will 
 be no motive of love and obedience to me, or encour- 
 agement to inculcate it zealously and heartily to 
 others, till it is apprehended by me in a different 
 manner than at present it is. 
 
 I seem to myself as a dark flint. By what kind 
 of a stroke God will fetch light out of me I know not. 
 
 I would not give myself one hour's trouble for 
 what the world calls immortal glory; and yet I am 
 sure that a sense of reputation, or rather dread of 
 shame, mixes itself with all I do. 
 
73 
 
 I could wish to have a perfect benevolence for the 
 most contemptible creature on earth, and at the same 
 time that no other object had more power to entangle 
 my affections. 
 
 It is a dreadful truth, and, if it were not for the 
 aids and consolations of the gospel, would even kill 
 me to think it. That the sole ground, being, and es- 
 sence of rectitude in the soul, and, consequently, all 
 its capacities for happiness, are a hearty love and 
 liking of God for what he is, and for all that he is. 
 
 When God takes off his hand, and leaves me to 
 myself, as I believe he does for my conviction and 
 humiliation, I can feel nothing within myself but the 
 temper and foundation of hell. 
 
 I perceive, by some fatal symptoms, that higher 
 qualifications for usefulness at present, would only 
 fill me with pride ; it is therefore better for me, that 
 thev should be withholden till I am disposed to re- 
 ceive them with proper humility, and as the means of 
 a blessed intercourse between God and my own soul. 
 
 Lately resolving and praying, as I thought sin- 
 cerely, against a certain sourness and malignity of 
 temper, which I am subject to all on a sudden, with- 
 out any preceding cause, or occasion given, I was 
 hurried, as it were, forcibly into it, and found myself 
 more under the tormenting influence of it than ever 
 I had been in all my life. 
 
 Whenever I attempt to pray for others, I am soon 
 made sensible that I do it in a cold, heartless man- 
 ner : a plain indication that love is not at the bottom. 
 It is an awful moment when the soul meets God in 
 private, to stand the test of his all-searching eye. 
 
 My state of being, continuance in it, and every 
 
74 
 
 thing relating to it, is ordered by God in such a 
 manner as he knows will conduce most to his own 
 glory in my happiness and salvation ; and yet I am 
 conscious to myself of a settled adherence to my own 
 choice, and a perpetual struggling against what he 
 wills and ordains. What ground is here for humi- 
 liation ! What further proof do I need of my cor- 
 ruption? And what a jest is it to think of setting 
 up on the stock of a little morality or outward decency 
 of behaviour, while this accursed root of impiety re- 
 mains in us ! 
 
 When I am well, I think I could die contentedly; 
 when I am sick, I am impatient to be well again. 
 
 Oh ! how I wish utterly to disregard, and be un- 
 moved at the contempt, peevishness, and perverse 
 opposition of others, and at the same time to pity the 
 unhappy state of mind, and love the person it pro- 
 ceeds from. " Arise, O God, and let thine enemies 
 be scattered." Give me this proof of thy love to me, 
 and power in me ; this foretaste of the heavenly hap- 
 piness; this earnest of thy Spirit in my heart; this 
 blessed grace of charity, by which only I can know 
 and be like thee, and be fitted to dwell with thee in 
 the regions of everlasting peace and love. 
 
 If any man, pretending to be humble, tells me 
 that God has given him a sight of his own frightful 
 ugliness, I can believe him; but not if he pretends 
 to come by his humility in any other way. 
 
 I see enough in others, for a ground in all to be 
 humble ; and yet this very thing prevents me from 
 being so. I cannot help comparing myself with them, 
 instead of the rule of perfection. 
 
 I am perpetually looking out for some fitness in 
 
75 
 
 myself, some procuring meritorious cause of God's 
 acceptance of me, as if I could never be safe till I 
 could challenge reward at his hands as a debt ; and 
 yet I believe this is pure opposition to the gospel 
 scheme, and the very infidelity which St. Paul, in 
 particular, levels all his reasonings against, the more 
 dangerous as being the more specious, and at all 
 times the religion of the more sober and rational part 
 of mankind. 
 
 I plainly perceive that I am what I think hateful 
 in others, and what I really hate and despise others for. 
 
 There can be no repenting, asking forgiveness, or 
 desiring a change, upon a general confused appre- 
 hension of our unworthiness : we can only come to 
 Christ with a catalogue of our sins in our hands ; and 
 if the Holy Spirit does not assist in drawing it up, 
 we shall omit a hundred times more than we set down. 
 
 Till we have a full belief and apprehension of the 
 scripture doctrine of the remission of sins, we are un- 
 der a kind of necessity of denying, extenuating, and 
 explaining away the guilt of them ; and this seals us 
 up in blindness, impenitence, and hardness of heart. 
 
 If I acquiesce in the act of prayer, without desir- 
 ing to receive what I ask for, I never pray. 
 
 We are apt to acquiesce in the bare act of prayer, 
 and can be well enough content all our lives, to go 
 without the spiritual good things we pray for. The 
 case is plain, we do not desire them. 
 
 I want to sink myself, in my own opinion, truly 
 and sincerely, below other people; and I verily be- 
 lieve, that we can never have any clear sight and 
 knowledge of ourselves and others, till we stand upou 
 lower ground than we are naturally apt to do. 
 D 2 
 
76 
 
 For a great part of my life, I did not know that 
 I was poor, and naked, and blind, and miserable. 
 I have known it for some time, without feeling it. 
 Thank God, I now begin to be pinched with it. 
 Stand aside, pride, for a moment, and let me see that 
 ugly thing — myself. 
 
 I know and can tell my sins to God, but to very 
 little purpose, as to any real abhorrence or forsaking 
 of them, unless he is pleased to tell them to me. 
 
 I believe the damnableness of sin in others, but 
 liot in myself. 
 
 Could I bear to be the author of a treatise which 
 should be the means of enlightening and converting 
 thousands, and be without the credit of it, or see it 
 all (riven to another? 
 
 What I stick to as a test, in point of duty or re- 
 Hgious perfection, is this. Can I do it of myself? 
 If I can, I conclude at once that it does not come up 
 to what God requires of me. 
 
 I do not perceive that I have any real pity for the 
 calamities of others ; if they happen in an enemy*s 
 country, I rejoice at them, and wish they were greater. 
 If this is not a diabolical temper, what is ? 
 
 I can make a shift to cheat the world, but I can 
 cheat myself no longer. The inward mask is taken 
 off, at least in part, and I am uneasy till I see more 
 of my own deformity. 
 
 " Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth." 
 I had rather enter into the meaning of this saying, 
 and be in full possession of the spirit of it, than be 
 lord of the universe. 
 
 O my God ! grant me not the turbulent, feverish 
 transports of a sickly fancy ; not the swellings of en- 
 
77 
 
 thusiastic pride, — but freedom from the detested rule 
 of passion; and perpetual serenity, from an bumble, 
 resigned, obedient frame of spirit. 
 
 I see and believe the reality and guilt of sin in 
 Christ hanging upon the cross, and am convinced, 
 with infallible certainty, that the Scripture lays no- 
 thinjr to the charge of man's nature but what is true ; 
 but I cannot say that I feel and hate sin in myself, 
 in any great degree. 
 
 I discern clearly, that, in all my dealings and con- 
 versation with others, I do not so much desire their 
 salvation as esteem. 
 
 I see very cUstinctly, that the will and power in 
 me which unites with God, obeys and loves, is not 
 from myself. 
 
 I find, upon strict scrutiny into myself, that I am 
 not so much influenced by a sense of reputation as to 
 deny a persecuted truth ; nevertheless, I plainly per- 
 ceive, that, if I could be instrumental in spreading it, 
 the arreat motive to it would not be love of the truth 
 
 o 
 
 of Christ, or the souls of men, and that my chief 
 pleasure would arise from the credit of it. 
 
 Little children have but one appetite, know what 
 they want, and can be quieted with nothing else- 
 Would to God I was so ! 
 
 Oh ! how many thousands, at this hour, are wor- 
 shipping God in spirit and truth, and labouring to 
 advance his kingdom ! and I still stand idle, cold and 
 lifeless, tongue-tied and fearful, as fast bound to the 
 world, and as averse to thorough work as ever. 
 
 It was not only Pontius Pilate and the Jews, but 
 ray sins, I myself, that condemned Christ, that 
 scourged him, and spit upon him, that drove the 
 
78 
 
 nails into his hands and feet, and pierced his side, 
 and forced him to cry out, " My God ! my God ! 
 why hast thou forsaken me ?" He consented to all 
 this once. What infinity of baseness, then, to cru- 
 cify him afresh ! 
 
 God sometimes gives me a taste of what he will 
 do for me, and takes it away again, to let me see 
 what I cannot do for myself. 
 
 Is my retiring to converse with God a state of en- 
 jo)nnent, or an earnest seeking to him in trouble and 
 self-abasement, from a sense of the greatest of all 
 wants ? or is it affectation, and a force upon nature, 
 proceeding from no real desire, producing no effect ? 
 or is it sometimes one, sometimes the other of these, 
 and sometimes a mixture of all three ? 
 
 It is a blessed prayer, " O God, thou knowest 
 that I am in trouble, that I want thee, and desire 
 nothing but thee, and must be for ever miserable 
 without thee !" 
 
 ! when shall I sit down to the rich feast of in- 
 ward tranquillity, from a settled state of meekness, 
 lowliness, faithfulness to God, and independence on 
 every thing but him ? 
 
 1 begin to have an intimate sense of God's pre- 
 sence, and to transact with him as near me. Blessed 
 be God for it. May he continue and increase it ! 
 
 Perhaps what I do see and acknowledge of myself, 
 is not the worst by far. 
 
 The evil which Scripture lays to the charge of 
 mankind, I feel in myself, and see plainly in others. 
 I see farther, that it is the root and essence of mi- 
 sery ; and that without a real vital change, it is im- 
 possible I should ever be happy ; and yet, notwith- 
 
79 
 
 Standing this self-conviction, notwithstanding that 
 Scripture tells me that the consequence of an unre- 
 generate nature will be eternal separation from God, 
 I do not perceive that it comes with full weight upon 
 my mind. 
 
 I have nothing to do, in my present circumstances, 
 with any man, sect, or opinion. I am sick of a dan- 
 gerous distemper, and must not stand reading books 
 on the nature of diseases, but look out immediately 
 for a cure, especially as I know of an infallible Phy- 
 sician. 
 
 Do I bring myself to the touchstone of truth, or 
 make myself the touchstone ? 
 
 Oh ! if the world knew, or I myself knew, what 
 God knows of me, how should I then appear? 
 
 It is cause enough for humility, to know that wc 
 are not humble. 
 
 I find that the chief ingredient of duty, the one 
 steady invariable principle of true hohness, without 
 which all I do is nothing, yea, no better than sin, has 
 hitherto been much wanting; namely, a prevailing 
 regard to the glory of God. 
 
 Many of our useful thoughts die away without 
 doing their office ; vanishing like bubbles, almost as 
 soon as they appear. 
 
 I know I cannot, and if I might I would not, be 
 happy in any other way than by the love of God and 
 his perfections, conformity to his will, desire to enjoy 
 him, and assimilation to him in a will to all goodness. 
 Yet I do not pay a sacred, supreme regard to the 
 will of God : I do not set it up as the mark I am 
 aiming at, in every thought, word, and action ; nor 
 embrace it steadily, instantly, cheerfully; nor live 
 
80 
 
 upon it as the food of my soul. 1 know why I am 
 not happy. 
 
 My sins brought Christ to me, and me to Christ. 
 
 weeping love ! O praying love ! O working 
 love ! but instead thereof^ sloth, indifference, cold- 
 ness, selfishness. 
 
 If God would leave me to my own choice, I know 
 I should desire above all things to continue in his 
 hands, and be wholly at his disposal. 
 
 1 wear a mask to myself, and for my life cannot 
 help fancying, that I am what I would seem to be, 
 and know I am not. 
 
 If any man was to entrust me with a sum for the 
 use of others, and I could secrete the whole or part 
 of it without its beinff known, mv conscience would 
 not let me do it : I could never be guilty of such 
 baseness. I am sensible that God does so put 
 talents into my hands, and knows to a farthing what 
 I give or keep back ; and yet I am not so scrupulous 
 and exact with regard to him, nor anxious to keep a 
 just account. What can be the meaning of this ? 
 And why is conscience so unfeeling and false to its 
 office, where he is concerned ? I cannot fathom the 
 depth of this thought : I cannot estimate my guilt : 
 I stand amazed at my contempt of God, and shrink 
 back from myself with horror. 
 
 Aged 63. — I have made experiment what hfe is. 
 The retrospect is very mortifying, and I should nei- 
 ther be able to bear up against it, nor endure the little 
 time that is to come, without Jesus. 
 
 The dreadful and ever-memorable earthquake at 
 Lisbon ! It is man, and not God, that throws na- 
 ture into convulsions. O my soul ! art thou an 
 earth-shaker ? 
 
81 
 
 Every hour comes to us charged with duty, and 
 the moment it is past, returns to heaven, to register 
 itself, how spent. My hours how trifled, sauntered, 
 dozed, sensualized, sinned away ! 
 
 I should he sorry to have it known what I am, 
 how little I know, and what I have heen doing in the 
 world ; and yet 1 am sure I swell with self-conceit, 
 long for and expect applause, and catch greedily at it, 
 where I know it is falsely given. Horrid depravity 
 and meanness of soul ! 
 
 It is hard to sit down in the lowest room ; not be- 
 cause I am bidden, or to save appearances, but be- 
 cause I know it to be my place. 
 
 I do not think of myself according to what I know 
 of myself. 
 
 Would I choose that God should take me out of 
 the world, to rescue me from a temptation which he 
 sees would be too hard for me, and to prevent my 
 falling into sin ? If not, I am either fearless of sin, 
 or immoderately fond of life, or both. 
 
 I am horribly proud, without ground or pretence, 
 and with great cause for humiliation. I know this, 
 and still I am horribly proud. 
 
 I see in other sinners, what I am ; in Jesus, what 
 I should be. 
 
 Checked, because soon to pray, and for the ease of 
 my own mind in the duty, more than from any pure 
 principle, or steady sacred regard to God. 
 
 I have just enough to keep a sickly hope alive, but 
 not the sense and enjoyment of spiritual health. 
 
 I can forgive others more easily than myself. But, 
 query, whether this is not rather the effect of pride, 
 to find I am no better, than real humiliation. For 
 d3 
 
82 
 
 true compunction, repentance towards God by a 
 work of the Spirit, is for sin as sin, and for all sin, 
 secret as well as open. I have reason to think that 
 I grieve and feel much more for a sin which is seen 
 and observed, than for a greater which is not. 
 
 I should not care if all the world saw my sin, if 
 I could be sure that God did not. And why do I 
 dread his knowledge of me ? Not so much from a 
 general concern for having offended so gracious and 
 good a Being, as fear of his punishment. 
 
 Whatever graces I pray for, whatever good I do, 
 is too much with a view to self, for the ease and sa- 
 tisfaction of my mind, for reputation, to preserve my 
 own good opinion, with too little regard to the glory 
 of God, and the benefit of others. 
 
 If I had been less a sinner, I should probably 
 have known less of Christ, and of my obligation to 
 him than I do ; and without the knowledge of Christ 
 saving me from the curse and ruin of my sin, I am 
 sure I should have been less concerned for it, and 
 afraid of it, than I am. 
 
 I never was thankful, as I ought, for the common 
 blessings of providence, for health and abundance ; 
 and, behold ! I am for pain, and think I could be so 
 in want. Whose work is this ? 
 
 I see the devil's hook, and yet cannot help nibbling 
 at his bait. 
 
 I can be courteous, humane, beneficent, and ab- 
 stain from outward sin, with hard struggling; but 
 who shall make me humble, charitable, and pure in 
 heart ? 
 
 I believe I am not what I should be, I believe I 
 shall be what I am not : I believe in the power of 
 God, I believe in my own weakness. 
 
83 
 
 Inactive and silent, for fear of giving offence ; for 
 ease and quiet ; for want of love and real concern for 
 the spiritual good of others ; and all from a root of 
 unbelief. 
 
 The evil which I know and feel in myself, though 
 not denied, causes no suitable dislike or self-abhor- 
 rence : what I see or suppose to be in others, I am 
 too apt heartily to despise them for. What blind- 
 ness, pride, and malevolence ! 
 
 1 can say truly, I have great need of Christ : 
 thank God, I can say boldly, I have a great Christ 
 for my need. 
 
 The world in my heart is a worse distemper than 
 any that Christ cured. O Jesu ! 
 
 What shall I do to live one day without sin ? 
 
 Four things are a grief of heart to me ; — that I 
 do not love God more, nor hate sin more, nor abhor 
 myself more, and that the world generally thinks so 
 much better of me, as a Christian, than 1 deserve. 
 
 " Mortify your members." I have not had this 
 end sufficiently in view, and hardly ever thought duly 
 of any such thing. 
 
 At the age of sixty, I thought it humility enough 
 to confess myself a threescore years' old sinner, little 
 imagining that I must say the same if I lived to be 
 fourscore. 
 
 Much forgiven, and little love : How is it ? 
 
 Is there any thing in my heart or life displeasing 
 to God ? The question must be answered. 
 
 I am continually looking for the substantial ground, 
 and adequate meritorious cause of justification in my- 
 self, whereas it is solely in Christ; and though I am 
 answerable to him for the gratitude, fidelity, and 
 
84 
 
 loyalty of a pure heart, it is not tlie cause, but the 
 effect and consequence of my salvation by him. 
 
 Jan. 23, 1765. It was evident to me, that for a 
 worldly advantage, I could, and would, do and for- 
 bear, what I do not for God and heaven. 
 
 Feb. 15, 1765. Is there, is there, O my soul ! 
 a call this day to God, to his obedience, to purity of 
 heart, to love, to an. humble hope of being owned by 
 him, and living with him for ever? There is. 
 
 If I knew that Christ died for me only, it would 
 not kindle in me one spark of love without a divine 
 operation on my soul. I have sufficient obligations 
 to him, acknowledge the debt, and would fain pay 
 some part of it from a feeling of gratitude, but find 
 my heart is cold as a stone. 
 
 '' My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit 
 hath rejoiced in God my Saviour." So I said, Janu- 
 ary 16, 17, 1767, for one whole night and day, and 
 thought I should never lose the experience; but at 
 the same time, the song of Moses for deliverance at 
 the Red Sea was presented to my mind : " In three 
 days they came to Marah." In one day it was 
 Marah with me : all was gone. 
 
 Christ has removed the burden of sin from my 
 conscience a thousand times; and as often as he 
 takes it off, I lay it on again. 
 
 Read and pray, think and pray, pray and fear not. 
 Lord God, thou knowest my prayer is for mercy, 
 and strength to keep mercy ; to believe and rejoice ; 
 to believe and adore; to believe and love; to believe 
 and have no will but to please thee ; to believe and 
 die to the world ; and thou knowest that I prostrate 
 myself before thee, as a sinful, helpless creature; 
 
85 
 
 placing no confidence in my own strength, attain- 
 ments, willing, or running, but trusting wholly in thy 
 grace and power for the pardon of all my sins, and 
 the supply of all my wants. 
 
 God help me ! 1 am so foolish as to expect hap- 
 piness, with a great remainder of sin about me, if 
 not all I was born with. 
 
 So long as there is one speck of sin remaining, 
 perfect happiness is impossible. 
 
 Well may I, .who am so poor in love and peace- 
 ableness, polluted in heart, destitute of holy zeal, be 
 required to be poor in spirit, to mourn, to be meek, 
 to hunger and thirst after righteousness. 
 
 Feb. 23, 1767. A call was given me from the 
 Spirit to see sin in all its guilt, malignity, and curse, 
 truly to abhor it, to have my very soul bent against 
 it, and to dread it more than death. 
 
 No slave in Turkey ever wished for deliverance 
 more than I do for Christ's freedom. 
 
 ! how happy should I be, what cause of rejoic- 
 ing, what ground of adoration and thankfulness shall 
 I have, when I perceive as clearly within myself that 
 the love of God is uppermost in my heart, and takes 
 place of all other loves, as I do that I love myself 
 above any thing in the world ? 
 
 1 like Christ's work so well, that I do not care 
 how long I live to do it, nor how soon I die, that I 
 may know and serve him better. 
 
 If 1 do not devote myself to the obedience of God 
 with full purpose of heart, and steady, sole regard to 
 his will; no number of acts, religious or moral, will 
 recommend me to his favour : my whole life is sin. 
 
 Let others boast of self-power, and despise help, 
 I have great need to pray. 
 
86 
 
 Aug. 13, 1765. 'I had for many hours a strong, 
 lightsome, and overpowering sense of joy, without 
 any preceding cause of reading, thought, meditation, 
 or action of any kind, to be the ground of it; but 
 found myself all on a sudden drawn to God, laid at 
 the Redeemer's feet in faith, admiration, and thank- 
 fulness, desiring to be led by the Spirit, and making 
 professions of love and obedience. I know such 
 comforts are not to be lived upon, nor proofs of a 
 high state of spirituality. Supposing them to be 
 real influxes of the Spirit, they are to be considered 
 as calls to greater sincerity, circumspection, and faith- 
 fulness, if not forerunners of trial and sufferings. 
 
 I should be better contented to be what I am, a 
 fallen, helpless creature, if my pride would let me. 
 
 I never was thrifty for myself; and if I had, I 
 should have been covetous. Thrift for God shall 
 now be thought of, and that will make me generous 
 and free as air. 
 
 Though I have one foot in the grave, and am 
 sensible that the world has left me, yet I do not find 
 that I have left it ; but still delude myself with a vain 
 hope of some kind of enjoyment from it, and remain 
 too much under the power of sensuality. 
 
 I had rather be cast into the burning fiery fur- 
 nace, or the lion's den, than suffer sin to lie quietly 
 in my heart. 
 
 I do not know the person whose good opinion I 
 do not naturally love more than their soul. 
 
 I have a full conviction that I stand more in awe 
 of P. L. than God. 
 
 I have conscience enough to make me uneasy in 
 sin, but not enough to keep me from it. 
 
87 
 
 In the case of others, I am apt to be angry with 
 the sinner, and hot the sin ; in my own, with the sin 
 at most, but not the sinner. 
 
 I am strict and scrupulous in matters which do not 
 much thwart my will, nor bear too hard upon flesh 
 and blood. So pride thrives, and conscience is kept 
 from being over-troublesome. 
 
 I am often thinking whether I renounce sin upon 
 right grounds. Do I renounce it upon any ? 
 
 The world may well excuse me for wearing a mask 
 to hide my guiltiness from it. I put the same cheat 
 full as much upon myself, am still in the attempt of 
 painting and white-washing to God. 
 
 The world says of me, " A good sort of man, but 
 a little too strict and precise." My real character is 
 rather, " He has not the fear of God before his 
 eyes, neither doth he abhor any thing that is evil." 
 
 I can see nothing without the Spirit's eyes, but 
 as it were in a mist. I am fully persuaded of the 
 truth of Scripture, and what it tells me of sin, my- 
 self, God, Christ, and eternity; but with little more 
 effect and true feeling than what I know and believe 
 of some remote country, in which I have no manner 
 of concern. 
 
 If things and providences are not according to my 
 mind, I can dissemble; but do what I will, cannot 
 be pleased. Let the thought of my being displeased 
 with God be ever so hard, it is better to know it. 
 
 I can truly say of every one I know, I hope they 
 are better than myself. 
 
 I am continually looking at the clouds, to know 
 whether I should be pleased with God. 
 
 You tell me that the remembrance of sin should 
 
88 
 
 be accompanied with self-loathing, and a child-like 
 ingenuous concern for having displeased God, rather 
 than a slavish dread of punishment. I see the rea- 
 son and excellence of such godly sorrow, but plainly 
 perceive, that if I was secure from all fear of pun- 
 ishment for my sins, I could easily be reconciled to 
 myself for having committed them. Since this is the 
 case with me, I have great cause to be thankful that 
 I am not hidden from myself; and 1 am sure there 
 is no other way of putting things upon a better foot- 
 ing with my soul, than knowing what I am. The 
 Lord keep me close to this prayer in all sincerity: 
 ^' Try me, O God, and search the ground of my 
 heart !" 
 
 Sin is still strong, with the grave opening, and 
 ready to close upon me. 
 
 I could tear my heart out for not being God's. I 
 have been deceived all my life by sayings of philoso- 
 phers, scraps of verses, and most of all by the pride 
 of my own heart, into an opinion of self-power, 
 which the Scripture plainly tells me, and I find by 
 repeated fruitless efforts, that I have not. 
 
 I have great cause to be sorry and ashamed that 
 any who have a much less income than myself should 
 be more contented, or that any who have more pains 
 and sufferings should bear them better. 
 
 I have sinned enough, and long enough, and 
 though I would give the world to sin no more, dare 
 not say I shall not. 
 
 I think so much of what others should do, that I 
 cannot find time to bestow one thought of that kind 
 upon myself. 
 
 If the devil could take Christ from me, I should 
 be ready for any wickedness. 
 
89 
 
 The more I am terrified with a sight and sense of 
 sin, the more precious Christ is, and the faster I lay 
 hold on him. 
 
 My apprehension of sin is faint, and chiefly specu- 
 lative. If I had a true sense and feehng of it, I 
 should be much more pained with it than I am witli 
 the stone, and gladly submit to any method of cure. 
 
 My death will be no more regarded by the world 
 than that of a worm or fly ; but is of infinite conse- 
 quence to me. 
 
 If I could make myself patient, resigned, and 
 thankful, I had rather that God should do it, as it 
 would be a token and proof of his love, and favour- 
 able presence with me. 
 
 If I felt for the disorder and danger of my soul, 
 as I do for my body in pain and sickness, I should 
 look out every way for help; be a thousand times 
 more anxious for its recovery than I am ; submit to 
 any method of cure, and say unfeignedly to God, 
 [7/7, ym, seca ; that is, burn, strike, cut. 
 
 Whenever I do any good, instead of applauding 
 myself, or supposing that Christ will place it to my 
 account in a way of merit, I should consider what 
 more I might have done, and have not. 
 
 When I am well, I think I can put myself into 
 the hands of God, and be content to be at his dis- 
 posal; when pains come, I had rather choose for 
 myself, and am impatient to be at ease. 
 
 If a person whom I esteemed and loved, and ab- 
 solutely depended on for my support and happiness, 
 was to prescribe a rule of conduct to me, I should 
 conform to it with pleasure, and hardly ever deviate 
 from it, especially if I knew he had his eye always 
 
90 
 
 upon me. Why then am I not so affected towards 
 God, but because I value his favour less, or stand 
 less in awe of him, or judge the performance of his 
 commands to be impossible, or trust unwarrantably in 
 his mercy, and all from a prevalent corruption of 
 heart and nature ? 
 
 Lord forgive my sins, and suffer me to keep them ! 
 Is this the meaning of my prayers ? 
 
 I fly from myself to God, I appeal from myself 
 to Christ. 
 
 How sad to find reason to say, I see God in every 
 thing but myself! 
 
 I see and own my obligations to Christ, but have 
 not near so lively a sense of them as I have of much 
 inferior kindnesses received from another hand. Per- 
 haps the reason may be, partly, that I consider his 
 benefits as necessary emanations of divine goodness ; 
 partly, because he requires things which seem hard 
 to me, — taking up the cross, forsaking all, mortifica- 
 tion of self, a change of nature and will, — and this 
 damps my gratitude to him, though in all reason it 
 should increase it. 
 
 As earthly, sensual, devilish as ever, and worse 
 than my former self, by an accursed hypocrisy. Son 
 of David, have mercy upon me, and heal my soul ! 
 
 All I do is for self, reading, meditating, compos- 
 ing; all terminate in self-gratification, with hardly 
 any view to usefulness or general benefit. 
 
 If it was put to my choice, whether I would go 
 immediately to heaven, or stay longer in this world, 
 I should choose the former; but then I believe it 
 would be rather to avoid being thought a fool, and 
 to be rid of the vexations I meet with here, than in 
 
91 
 
 love to Christ, and desire of the company and de- 
 hghts of heaven. 
 
 I find it very difficult to conceive how God can 
 show mercy to me, without showing it to all. 
 
 I should think myself undone, if I might not pray. 
 
 The will of God is so dear and sacred to me, as 
 his will, that I would not oppose it if he was not 
 present or privy to my disobedience, or I knew cer- 
 tainly that he would not inflict any punishment upon 
 me for it. 
 
 I do acts of love without love. I do not perceive 
 it to be a nature in me ; and I am sure, that if ever 
 I am possessed of it, it must be by a supernatural 
 change. Here is work for prayer. 
 
 October 26, 1766. Come, my heart, draw nigh 
 to God for remission and renovation, with fulness of 
 desire for a full work ; come now, this moment, as 
 also to Jesus, for all his cleansing, for washing in his 
 blood, for love, for fidelity. Deliver thyself into his 
 hands, and beg of him to purge, his flour in thee, 
 and make thee pure wheat, fit for his garner. And, 
 O Spirit of holiness ! do thou bring me, in repent- 
 ance and faith, to the blood of sprinkling. Sanctify 
 my spirit, soul and body ; and baptize me with thy 
 fire into obedience and love of the truth. 
 
 I puzzle myself about the prophecies, especially 
 the Apocalypse, and am often prying into futurity, 
 but do not advert enough to what I may certainly 
 know without a prophecy, what and where 1 shall be 
 within a few years at the most, if I suffer sin to keep 
 possession of me; if I do not abhor and cast it from 
 me in the fear of God ; if I do not pluck out the 
 right eye, and cut off" the right hand ; if I do not 
 
92 
 
 humble myself deeply before God ; cry earnestly for 
 mercy, and yield myself to him unfeignedly, and with 
 the utmost sincerity of intention, for newness of heart 
 and spirit. 
 
 I want forgiveness of one sin, and strength against 
 it; but God wants to do more for me, and will for- 
 give and deliver me from none till I make further 
 search into myself, and bring my sins before him 
 altogether. 
 
 God hears my prayers for deliverance from one 
 sin, by holding me under it till I discover more, and 
 am led to the root of all sin, in an evil heart, and 
 evil nature. 
 
 I cannot work repentance in myself, I cannot 
 purify my heart, I cannot change my nature. 
 
 " The blood of sprinkling speaketh better things 
 than that of Abel;" — crieth louder in the ears of God 
 for mercy to mankind, than that of Abel did against 
 C^in for vengeance. Why does it not cry as loud 
 in my ears, and in the depth of my heart, for grati- 
 tude, for love, for faithful and true allegiance, for 
 zeal and fidelity in the service of my Lord, for obe- 
 dience to every command, and to all that is written 
 in his book ? Lord Jesus ! thou knowest that can 
 only be in a day of power, when thou sayest, " Eph- 
 phatha," and speakest thyself into my heart. Oh ! < 
 speak; come quickly to a sinner bound hand and foot, 
 and lying at the point of death. 
 
 My prayers can only be answered in the way of a 
 severe mortification, and I would have the business 
 done without. 
 
 December 1, 1766. It was suggested to my heart 
 and conscience, as by a heavenly voice, that God's 
 command is for an absolute, immediate renunciation 
 
93 
 
 of sin, and a perpetual full obedience, and that every 
 thing short of such a purpose is prevarication, rebel- 
 lion, misery, death. 
 
 The shame and disgrace of a certain error in life, 
 though unattended with guilt, gives me more sensible 
 compunction and sorrow of heart, than all the sins I 
 ever committed. I feel in this instance how I should 
 be aftected towards God on account of sin, and am not. 
 
 That error seizing upon the mind as irretrievable, 
 is a resemblance of hell, and with the blessing of 
 God may be the means of keeping me out of it, by 
 leading me to consider what other errors may be re- 
 trievable. 
 
 Shut up in self, like a toad in a hole, and as full 
 of venom. 
 
 It is my own fault if I do not profit by the defects 
 of others, by taking occasion from them to prove and 
 exercise my own virtue. The question should be, 
 What kind of sentiment or beliaviour does the case 
 require ? 
 
 What has the day done for me? Has it set me 
 nearer heaven? Has it brought in an increase of 
 knowledge and virtue ? Has it been devoted to the 
 service of God and man, or spent in sensuality and 
 self-pleasing ^ 
 
 1 am grievously offended with my parishioners, 
 because they will not contribute to my reputation in 
 the world, by being converted by me. Lord, let thy 
 Spirit go with me into the depths of my heart, to 
 show me more and more of its deceit and desperate 
 wickedness ! 
 
 I plainly perceive that I have horribly abused gos- 
 pel-grace, if not to an allowance of sin, yet to make 
 me less fearful of it, and keep off the Spirit's reproof. 
 
94 
 
 In all the good I do, I have little thought but of 
 pleasing and enjoying myself. The inquiry is, How 
 shall I find my account in such an action, or course 
 of life, in respect of ease and self-satisfaction? and if 
 duty will not pay me something in hand, it is a hun- 
 dred to one I baulk it. The point should be, not 
 what wdll please myself, but God. The time and 
 manner of enjoyment may be left to him. It appears 
 also from hence, that the supposing virtue to be its 
 own reward, is not the way to secure the interests of 
 virtue, but destructive of Christian hope, and an un- 
 steady, fallacious principle of action, which would 
 oftener lead us from what is right, than to it. 
 
 I shall never think I Hve, till I desire to live no 
 longer. 
 
 Some fix their eyes so much upon the atonement 
 of tlie cross, as to be blind to the example of it; 
 others so much upon the example, as to undervalue 
 the atonement of it. It is a happy art, and the 
 Christian's work to avoid both extremes ; for my own 
 part, I find I am more willing that Christ should 
 take me unto himself for the communication of his 
 benefits, than I am to take him into my heart with 
 his pure commands, strict discipUne, self-denial, and 
 suffering spirit. 
 
 If proclaiming my life before men and angels, will 
 be proclaiming the glory of saving grace, let it be 
 done. I do not desire to have one sinful act, word, 
 or thought concealed. Forgiveness through the 
 blood of Christ, will be to myself an endless spring 
 of admiration, love, and thanksgiving; and the blessed 
 company of heaven will join with me in praising God 
 and the Lamb for it to all eternity. 
 
95 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE SCRIPTURES. 
 
 I DREAMED I SEW Christ curing a distempered 
 person. I immediately applied to him for my own 
 healing. He asked in what respect. I answered, 
 I want spiritual healing and forgiveness of sins. — He 
 seemed to doubt whether I truly desired it. I fell 
 upon my knees and besought him earnestly; on which 
 he said, with a gracious look, " Thy sins are forgiven 
 thee ; go and sin no more." I was transported at 
 the words, and w^ept tears of joy in great abundance. 
 My reflection on waking was, that I had as full as- 
 surance from the Word of God of the remission of 
 sins, and as plain a command to sin no more, as if it 
 was spoken to me by a voice from heaven, or by 
 Christ himself in person : " If they hear not Moses 
 and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded 
 thouo-h one rose from the dead." 
 
 St. Austin, in his Confessions, B. xii. cap. 26. 
 delivers himself to this purpose : " If I had been 
 enjoined by God to write the book of Genesis, I 
 should have chosen to have composed it in such a 
 manner for depth and eloquence, that they who did 
 not understand creation, should nevertheless not be 
 able to reject it for being above their capacity ; and 
 that whatever difiPerent truths any man or number 
 of men might discover, or have discovered to them, 
 should be contained in the conciseness of the text." 
 This shows a vast reach of thought in St. Austin, 
 
96 
 
 and opens to us an amazing extent of truth in Scrip- 
 ture, and seems to have been his real opinion of the 
 book of Genesis. 
 
 The Scripture is light and truth from God; a clue 
 put into my hands by him, to guide me through the 
 mazes of darkness and error; the instrument he works 
 with in the destruction of sin and purification of my 
 nature; and if I do but receive it as such, I am sure 
 he will bless it to me in such ways as he knows to 
 be best for me. My only prayer to the Father of 
 mercies and God of all consolation is, that he would 
 give me a full conviction and certain apprehension of 
 Iny faith and sincerity in the use of it ; and all the 
 rest, the measure of illumination, sensible comforts, 
 and worldly accommodations, I leave cheerfully to him. 
 
 Some people lie at catch with Scripture, for ex- 
 amples or expressions to countenance their corrup- 
 tion. 
 
 The design of the Christian religion, is to change 
 men's views, lives, and tempers. But how? By 
 the superior excellence of its precepts? By the 
 weight of its exhortations, or the promise of its re- 
 wards? — No; but by convincing men of their wretched 
 guilt, blindness, and impotence ; by inculcating the 
 necessity of remission, supernatural light and assis- 
 tance, and actually promising and conveying these 
 blessings. And if it does not prove its divinity by 
 its efficacy, let it be condemned as an imposture. 
 This was one of its most operative convincing proofs 
 at the beginning, and certainly is its greatest abiding 
 proof. 
 
 The Scripture sends me to my heart ; and my 
 heart, well known and considered, sends me back 
 
97 
 
 again to the Scripture, with great advantage for the 
 understanding of it. 
 
 It may be a dangerous snare to me, and I may 
 go mourning all my life long, if I expect any thing 
 from God that he has never promised. 
 
 Eve was sadly mistaken in Cain, when she said 
 she had gotten the man Jehovah, (the promised seed,) 
 and had got no better than a murderer. Perhaps 
 this is a common mistake ; and men think they have 
 Christ, when they have nothing in them but the 
 spirit of Cain. 
 
 If we had a voice from heaven, it would reveal no 
 new Scripture to us: it would send us to the law and 
 the testimony. Why then should we not adhere to 
 the Word, and make a diligent use of it without? 
 We should, if we believed it. 
 
 The religion of most men is fixed from nature, 
 that is, worldly ease and convenience, before they 
 come to the reading of the Scripture. The conse- 
 quence is plain : In all points where it exceeds their 
 standard, it will be pared away. 
 
 With what a mixture of fear, reverence, and holy 
 joy, should we open the Bible — the book of truth and 
 happiness ! God's heart opened to man ! and yet 
 the whole and every part of it secreted from him, and 
 hid under an impenetrable veil, till he opens his heart 
 to God. 
 
 Before the coming of Christ, the law and the gos- 
 pel were in one, but the latter so hid under the for- 
 mer, that it was matter of some difficulty to discern 
 it. After his coming, the gospel part of the law was 
 taken out of it, and separated from it ; and by being 
 placed apart, in a conspicuous point of view, reflected 
 E 7 
 
98 
 
 ba,ck its own lustre upon the law, discovered plainly 
 that it was in it, and gave it a strength and vigour 
 which it never had before. 
 
 The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God; 
 consequently, the wisdom of God is foolishness with 
 man. The consequence of both is plain : all who 
 adhere to divine wisdom and illumination, must ne- 
 cessarily be fools in the eye of the world. 
 
 The Scripture is unto us what the star was to the 
 wise men; but if we spend all our time in gazing upon 
 it, observing its motions, and admiring its splendour, 
 without being led to Christ by it, the use of it will 
 be lost to us. 
 
 Perhaps it may be a good rule in the reading of 
 Scripture, not to run from one passage to another, or 
 suppose it a duty to read a certain portion of it every 
 day, but to dwell upon particular passages, till they 
 have in some measure done their office. 
 
 Every one should apply Scripture to himself, as if 
 it was written for him only. 
 
 Scripture reading is a feast indeed, when we find 
 in ourselves a disposition to receive it in truth and 
 simplicity. 
 
 " Son of man, can these dry bones live ? Lord 
 God, thou knowest." Show me a thought so inter- 
 esting, so profound, so impressive, and so well ex- 
 pressed, in a pagan author. 
 
 Poison secretly conveyed into an antidote must be 
 fatal, because no farther cure will be looked for. 
 How many themselves poison their great antidote — 
 the Bible ! 
 
 Look full at Scripture, especially the beatitudes ; 
 do not be afraid of it, it is a sovereign cure for a sick 
 
99 
 
 soul; but then it must not be adulterated, as it is, 
 with the spurious mixtures of human reason. 
 
 We go to commentators for the most part, because 
 we are afraid to take Christ and his apostles upon 
 their own word. If we had a simple faith, we should 
 seldom want others to explain their meaning. 
 
 It is an awful, dreadful thing, to come full into 
 the light of Scripture, and be upon a footing of sin- 
 cerity with God. 
 
 Our spiritual progress is greatly hindered by run- 
 ning from one thing to another. When any thought, 
 discovery, or passage of Scripture makes a strong 
 impression, and, as it were, seizes upon the mind, 
 consider it as of God, and give it time and opportu- 
 nity to work its effect, by excluding every thing else 
 for a season. It would be of infinite use to keep an 
 exact history of such inward workings; their rise, 
 continuance, declension, and revival; and the commu- 
 nication and comparison of many such histories, would 
 not only afford matter of curious knowledge, great 
 improvement, and mutual comfort, but, perhaps, be 
 one of the strongest evidences of Christ's mission, 
 and the truth of Scripture. 
 
 The Scriptures are so darkened with expositions, 
 and buried under such a heap of rubbish, that it is 
 a kind of labour even for the Spirit of God to remove 
 it. The minds of the poor, not being sophisticated 
 by the false glosses which obscure the plain sense of 
 Scripture, are in a much better condition for under- 
 standing it than the learned. 
 
 It is no objection to the truth of Scripture, that 
 so many different sects find their own opinions in it. 
 For, first, If they were all agreed in their sense of 
 £2 
 
100 
 
 it, and submission to it, the testimony it brings 
 against the bhndness and corruption of mankind 
 would be weakened : secondly, It is no disparagement 
 to a looking-glass, that all see something in it that is 
 pleasing to themselves; the glass is true, the eye is 
 partial. 
 
 It is said of Socrates, that when he believed he 
 was divinely admonished to do any thing, it was im- 
 possible to make him take a contrary resolution. 
 How does his example shame those who pretend to 
 receive and believe the Scripture as a divine direction, 
 and yet for the most part trample it under their feet ! 
 It is the great design of the Scripture to teach the 
 best to despair of being self-saved ; the worst not to 
 despair of being saved by Christ, and to offer to all 
 the help they want. 
 
 The Scripture was written to be transcribed into 
 the heart, and it has its effect when the heart is in 
 such full consent and agreement therewith, that the 
 Scripture might have been copied from it. 
 
 It is impossible, in the nature of things, that so 
 burdensome and expensive an institution as that of 
 Moses, should ever have been received by the Jews, 
 but upon sufficient evidence of its being divine. — See 
 Stillingfleet's Orig. Sac. Vol. II. c. i. p. 116. 
 
 The design of revelation is to inform mankind 
 that they are in a state of ruin, and under the divine 
 displeasure by reason of sin, and to propose the means 
 of their recovery to the favour of God, and the hope 
 of eternal life, by faith in a Redeemer, and submis- 
 sion to his teaching and authority. 
 
 Setting aside St. Paul, I should think Mr. Law 
 right in his notion of regeneration ; but when I look 
 into the Scripture, I am sure he is wrong. 
 
101 
 
 Many assent to the truth of Scripture, anil make 
 use of it to paint their faces, but will not suffer it to 
 ^et within thorn, nor come too near the heart. 
 
 How can I be discontented or low-spirited, want 
 employment or enjoyment, when I have the Scripture 
 to go to ? 
 
 I have the writings of a most invaluable estate in 
 my hands, made over to me as my own property; 
 and whenever I open the New Testament, and think 
 of the unsearchable riches of Christ therein conveyed 
 to every believer, I may look down with contempt on 
 all earthly possessions, and deserve to forfeit my in- 
 terest in the gospel treasure, if I do not. 
 
 There is but one kind of happiness in nature for 
 intelligent creatures, namely, that by which God is 
 happy : God is happy in his own will ; therefore, in- 
 telligent creatures can only be happy in their know- 
 ledge of, and conformity to that will. The question, 
 Where is this knowledge to be had? is easily an- 
 swered; and the necessity of a revelation for this 
 purpose, together with the helps it offers for bringing 
 mankind to that conformity, appear at once. 
 
102 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 GOD. 
 
 All spiritual happiness is in God, and inseparable 
 from him, and there is no possibility of the creature's 
 receiving any but by being in him. The gospel only 
 teaches the necessity of this union, and the precious 
 means and mystery of it by Christ. 
 
 The mercy of God is the first article of every 
 man's creed ; .but the different manner of understand- 
 ing and applying it, makes an essential, infinite dif- 
 ference in the characters of men, and constitutes 
 either religion or atheism. 
 
 I believe the universal immediate presence of God ; 
 that he is the foundation, life, and essence of all 
 creation, and of every part and particle of it ; or, in 
 St. Paul's words, that he is above all, and through 
 all, and in all; but still he is absent, and infinitely 
 removed from me, unless I find him in my own heart. 
 The greatest knowledge of his being and attributes 
 will avail me nothing, if I do not also know him as 
 my Father in Christ; and as such, favouring, loving, 
 and blessing me, in time and to all eternity. 
 
 I do not think it is in the power of God to make 
 any thing to be our happiness but himself. 
 
 The mercies of God refused, aggravate guilt, and 
 draw on great ruin ; but what then ? Must not God 
 therefore make a tender of his mercy ? And must 
 none be the better for it, because some will be the 
 worse ? 
 
103 
 
 Nothing but love can unite with and enjoy love. 
 The nature of God must be in use before it can be 
 a good to us. 
 
 All glory is so properly and solely God's, that none 
 can belong to any other ; and whatever creature, man 
 or angel, takes any to itself, in so doing, discovers the 
 nature, and falls into the condemnation of the devil. 
 
 What do I ask of God? Happiness confusedly? 
 or himself as the only ground of it ? 
 
 No rational creature can be truly happy in the 
 enjoyment of any thing, so long as there is any thing 
 better to be enjoyed. This thought, if true, leads 
 directly to God. 
 
 The will of God is God ; and to love one without 
 the other is impossible. 
 
 If we look only at our fellow- creatures, we shall 
 find, or take, but too many occasions of pride and 
 self-exaltation. 
 
 The way to be humble is to look upwards to God. 
 If we think greatly of his majesty, purity, and infi- 
 nity of all excellence, it will give us such a striking 
 view of our vileness and absolute unworthiness, that 
 we shall think it hardly possible for any to be lower 
 than ourselves. 
 
 The angels are swallowed up in the wiU of God, 
 as their centre of rest and full enjoyment, and have 
 not one thought out of, or beyond it. If they shoidd 
 give their wills unto any thing else, but for a moment, 
 they would lose their name, nature, and happiness. 
 
 Though God reveals his own character in his 
 word, he reserves to himself the revelation of it to us 
 by his word. Whenever he discovers himself effec- 
 tually and savingly, the heart knows it is he, and not 
 the mere word that hath done it. 
 
104 
 
 I long to know more of that Being who made the 
 world, and to whom I have so many ohligations. 
 
 It is easy to say, Blessed be God, in every thing ; 
 but where is tlie man that is always pleased with God ? 
 
 How happy should we be, if we loved God but a 
 little ! 
 
 There is no possibility of happiness but in the will 
 of God, and in the discovery of it as his goodness to 
 mankind, and the only way in which he can commu- 
 nicate it. 
 
 " God and enough,'* says B. The reason why we 
 never have enough, or know not what we would have, 
 is because we neither have nor desire to have God. 
 
 If we had self-power, or could be self-saved, we 
 should be gods to ourselves : and therefore God, for 
 his own glory, and to preserve us from this cursed 
 idolatry, keeps all power in his own hands. 
 
 With us, commonly, sin is no sooner past than 
 forgotten. To God it is ahke present at all times, 
 and he always sees us in the very act of what we did 
 fifty years ago. 
 
 Those who do not choose to be like God, will cer- 
 tainly make God like themselves, as regardless of sin, 
 and as little concerned to punish it as they think he 
 should be. 
 
 God has made the only thing which constitutes 
 our happiness, resignation to, and love of, his will, 
 common to all. 
 
 " Forgive me all my sin :" — An unreasonable and 
 shameful petition to any but God ; for tliough all sin 
 is infinitely aggravated by being against God, yet the 
 only hope of sinners is, that it is against God. 
 
 We dishonour God greatly, and deny his nature, 
 by not expecting great things from him. 
 
105 
 
 God keeps us from much evil by the secret me- 
 thods of his providence, or prudential considerations 
 respecting our worldly interest or convenience, while 
 in us there is no sanctification. 
 
 God sometimes suffers the temptation to be very 
 great, as in the case of Adam and Eve, and the pro- 
 phet, I Kings xiii. but his command is sacred, and 
 the consequence of breaking it is terrible. 
 
 God's punishment and favours, though delayed, 
 are as certain in his own time and manner, as his 
 eternal unchangeable justice and goodness. 
 
 The highest angels know that they are kept in 
 being, and supported every moment in their state of 
 rectitude, by the will and powder of God; and this 
 sense of their dependence is their glory, perfection, 
 happiness, song of praise, and the ground of their 
 love and adoration. 
 
 God manifests himself in all his works, benefits, 
 and blessings, and hides himself again in his provi- 
 dential crosses and afflictions, and the pains and sor- 
 rows of life. All is just as it should be : he tells us 
 as plainly that we were not made for a happiness in 
 this world, as he does that he made and governs it. 
 
 It is hard to say whether God manifests or hides 
 himself more. 
 
 If God would give me all in heaven and earth, 
 without himself, I should be extremely and for ever 
 miserable. 
 
 I am bound to thank God for my being ; for the 
 continuance and support of my life ; and for innu- 
 merable benefits respecting this world : but most of 
 all, for making me capable of knowing, loving, and 
 E 3 
 
106 
 
 enjoying him; calling me to this happiness, and 
 qualifying me for it. 
 
 God is my Maker, Preserver, Redeemer, Sancti- 
 fier : Do I delight to consider him under these char- 
 acters ? 
 
 If I was to be assured that there is no God, or 
 that he does not govern the world, nor regard what 
 is doing in it, nor hear prayer, nor promise immor- 
 tality and prepare us for it, how would it affect me ? 
 Should I think myself undone, as being deprived of 
 all my hope and comfort; my best friend, and the 
 dearest object of my heart? 
 
 God is my end, Christ is my way, the Spirit my 
 guide. 
 
 God has the same knowledge, inspection, and care 
 of every one, as if there was but one. 
 
 It is my duty to keep myself at an awful distance 
 from God's natural attributes, and to approach as 
 near as possible to his moral. 
 
 God gives his help, not by forcing, but secretly 
 inclining and changing the will, and bringing it with 
 freedom and full consent to a conformity with his 
 own. 
 
 If I pleased God, I am sure he would please me. 
 I shall be a happy man when I cannot please my- 
 self without pleasing God. 
 
 He is God to govern his own world, and not I. 
 What God commands or ordains, is both the 
 work and enjoyment of the day. 
 
 God is happy in his own will, and makes it known 
 to us that we may be happy in it too. 
 
 If I am not happy in the will of God, I can be 
 happy in nothing else : I shall be emphatically cursed 
 with my own. 
 
107 
 
 Instead of stretching our thoughts to the mystery 
 of creation, and soaring above the stars when we 
 think of God, which for the most part is setting him 
 at a distance from us, it may be of great use to con- 
 sider him as present in the room or little spot where 
 we are, and as it were circumscribed within it, in all 
 his glory, majesty, and purity. 
 
 1 need not envy any man in his station, or wish 
 for a better spot on earth than where I am to find 
 God in : he is found only in the heart, and in the 
 heart every where, and wherever he is found he 
 makes a paradise. 
 
 It is the will of God that we should put him upon 
 doing moral impossibilities; and till we do, we 
 neither know God nor ourselves. Men judge of us 
 by our actions, God by our motives. 
 
 How can we complain or think hardly of God for 
 any thing he does, or have the least doubt of his 
 goodness, when he has given his Son to die for us ? 
 
 God is nowhere to me, if he is not in my heart. 
 
 God denies us nothing, but with a design to give 
 us something better. If he forbids a lust, it is to 
 give himself. O wretched man ! that ever thy heart 
 should be so blind, so hard, so long in choosing ! 
 
 My greatest obligation to God, next to the gift oi 
 Jesus Christ and his Spirit, is for commanding me to 
 love him with all my heart, &c. 
 
 Thank God for his restraint ; thank God for lay- 
 ing it on the heart ; thank God for the gospel mo- 
 tives and help to do his will. 
 
 Certainly God had some further design in giving 
 me my life, and preserving it by continual miracles, 
 within and without, than that I should eat, drink, 
 and die. 
 
108 
 
 If I could help myself, I should choose to have 
 God to do it. What less can be a ground of trust, 
 dread, love? 
 
 What is rebellion in the state, to rebellion against 
 God? 
 
 We ourselves stint God in the measure of spiri- 
 tual gifts. He has no measure. 
 
 I have always known that my happiness is in 
 God's power, but I did not consider enough that he 
 himself is that happiness. 
 
 God takes the same care of me, and I ought to 
 have the same regard to him, as if there was no other 
 being in nature but him and myself. 
 
 He who sends the storm, steers the vessel. 
 
 All creation, and every part of it, is, more or less, 
 (and perhaps originally more than now,) a copy or 
 resemblance of God; a manifestation of his nature 
 and operations ; the instrument of his goodness ; 
 executioner of his justice ; or a monitor of man's duty. 
 The degenerate creature, man, in his present capa- 
 bility of the divine likeness; the several tribes of 
 brutes, in their formation, qualities, acts, and in- 
 stincts ; the inanimate parts of the creation, in their 
 attractions, processes, and offices ; all are something, 
 and speak something of God, in the universal lan- 
 guage of nature. The sun, for instance, to say no- 
 thing of its nature as fire, is a lively emblem of God's 
 universal operative presence : and our Saviour's say- 
 ing, " How often would I have gathered thee, as a 
 hen gathereth her chickens under her wings !" is an 
 affecting illustration of the divine (TTO^yrj, and his 
 own yearning compassion, in the fond workings of that 
 creature. But who, in this dark state of things, can 
 
109 
 
 trace the thought in its full extent, or discover the 
 resemblance, ends, and uses of but a few particulars? 
 This will be the delightful employment of glorified 
 spirits, and the growing wonder of eternity. 
 
 How is it possible for God to make an intelligent 
 creature to receive its happiness from any thing but 
 himself, since this would not only be the giving his 
 glory to another, but in some sort an annihilation of 
 himself? For whatever constitutes or confers our 
 happiness, will, in the reason of the thing, be our 
 god; and we cannot be persuaded to place our de- 
 sires, to pay our homage any where else. 
 
 God ofiers himself in Christ to be our portion, 
 possession, and happiness ; and the man who can be 
 contented with any thing less, is neither worthy to 
 receive him, nor qualified to enjoy him. 
 
 When I consider the God who fills heaven and 
 earth, as intimately present with, and as it were cir- 
 cumscribed within my heart, I am seized with dread 
 and astonishment. I dare not lie to him, nor pre- 
 varicate with him ; 1 am afraid to speak, or even 
 almost to think before him. 
 
 It is better to believe the goodness of God, not- 
 withstanding the untowardness of some appearances 
 in the state and nature of man, than to deny those 
 appearances to be what they are, upon a supposition 
 that they are not to be reconciled with the goodness 
 of God. 
 
110 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HUMAN DEPRAVITY. 
 
 Who is there almost that does not wish God was 
 less pure in his nature, less strict in his commands, 
 less exact in his justice, less terrible in his vengeance, 
 than he is ? And is not this wishing that he was 
 what he is not, and disliking what he is? And 
 what is this, if the soul durst speak out the horrid 
 truth, but even hating God ? 
 
 Nothing in nature is more unknown to man than 
 himself. 
 
 There are few men upon earth, so despised, dis- 
 regarded, and forgotten, as God is by the generality 
 of men. " The peace of God passeth all under- 
 standing ;" and yet, when a few simple souls stand 
 out, declaring boldly that they have it, but cannot 
 explain it, all the rest of the world cries out upon 
 them for fools and enthusiasts. 
 
 It is the common opinion with regard to natural 
 evil, that it is sufficiently accounted for, if happiness 
 prevails upon the whole; that this mixed state of 
 things is unavoidable, and therefore no impeachment 
 of the goodness of God ; and that no man, or num- 
 ber of men, however miserable, have any right to 
 complain, if happiness is the result of the general 
 system. I do not understand this : it seems to me 
 little less than blasphemy. How is it possible for so 
 much as one conscious being to be miserable, but by 
 its own fault? 
 
Ill 
 
 If man is a sinner, why does he not believe it ? 
 And if he is not, why does he confess it ? What a 
 strange jumble of blindness and hypocrisy ! We 
 confess what we do not really believe, and yet really 
 are what we confess. 
 
 We aggravate the faults of others, to have a pre- 
 tence for hating or despising them, and for the plea- 
 sure of self-comparison. 
 
 Striving against nature is like holding a weather- 
 cock with one's hand ; as soon as the force is taken 
 off, it veers again with the wind. 
 
 Whoever thinks he can acquit himself to God, 
 has wrong notions of God, of himself, of duty, of 
 sin. Either he considers God only under the single 
 idea of mercy, or he knows nothing of his own great 
 corruption ; or contracts duty into a narrow compass, 
 or fixes the guilt of sin at a low rate. 
 
 The happiest and most envied life, taken from 
 childhood to old age, will not bear a review. There 
 is not a year, perhaps not a month, perhaps not an 
 hour of it, which a wise man would choose to live 
 over again. 
 
 All our happiness, as mere men, consists in forget- 
 ting ourselves. If we think, we are miserable. 
 
 A conscious, reflecting being, eagerly coveting 
 happiness, and seeking it every where but in God, 
 is the monster of the universe. God could no more 
 make such a creature, than he can unmake himself. 
 
 We are as vain, as if we were in full possession of 
 our original perfection ; and our being vain, is a cer- 
 tain proof that we are not. 
 
 An impatient desire to know, and have more than 
 is proper for us in our present state, often hinders 
 
112 
 
 us from using what we have, and knowing what we 
 might : and is to many a source of great delusion. 
 
 The heart of man pants everlastingly after dis- 
 tinction ; and our pride only changes its appearance. 
 
 Mine, I find, is grown to a goodly size, under the 
 show of humility. 
 
 God may say to every self-righteous man, as he 
 did in the case of Sodom, " Show me ten; yea, one 
 perfect good action, and for the sake of it I will not 
 destroy." 
 
 The sour fruit that Adam ate, will be ever and 
 anon rising upon our stomachs, even in our best 
 estate. 
 
 So long as we think we are what we are not, and 
 have what we have not, we can receive nothing at 
 the hands of God ; and reformation is impossible. 
 
 We can no more bear to be told of our faults by 
 God than man; and if we durst think it, are in 
 reality as much disgusted at the one as the other. 
 
 What is the reason of the frequent uneasiness 
 betwixt man and wife : and of their sometimes giv- 
 ing full scope to their passions upon very trifling 
 occasions ; even amongst persons who behave with 
 decency, calmness, and general good temper to all 
 others? It is because they think their reputation 
 safe in each other's hands, and therefore are not 
 afraid to discover their natural sourness and malig- 
 nity. This shows that neither love of rectitude, nor 
 the fear of God, is at the bottom of that poor thing 
 we call virtue, since we exert it least where it is most 
 due, and where it would be most serviceable to our- 
 selves, only because we think we can do so without 
 disgrace. 
 
113 
 
 The boasted demonstration of a future state of re- 
 wards and punishments, from the unequal distribu- 
 tion of things in this life, is annihilated upon the 
 Christian scheme, which supposes all to be sinners, 
 and, as such, liable to condemnation ; and, therefore, 
 whatever good we receive from God, in any period of 
 our existence, is grace, and not retribution. 
 
 Charity does not oblige us to think any man good, 
 because Christ says, " There is none good.'* 
 
 Observe man's depravity in his punishment. In 
 our present condition we can only relish earthly 
 things, and they all conspire to disappoint our expec- 
 tations. There must therefore of necessity be a 
 change both in the faculty and the object, if ever we 
 be happy ; and our business here, is not to accumulate 
 riches, or fly from the sight of ourselves to amuse- 
 ments, but to acquire a true taste for things that are 
 excellent. 
 
 Words cannot express the tormenting conscious- 
 ness of a soul separated from the gracious influxes of 
 God, and abandoned for ever to its own poverty and 
 impotence. 
 
 If we sought after truth out of pure love to it, and 
 for the pleasure of it, as is pretended, we should not 
 fear the great teacher. Death, as we do. 
 
 Nothing shows the vanity of wealth, grandeur, 
 and pleasure, in so strong a light, as the restless, 
 ambitious spirit of princes. What do they want ? 
 and what would they have ? Alas ! the soul, con- 
 scious to itself of much higher pretensions, is not to 
 be quieted with any thing these can give it. 
 
 It is the devil's master-piece, to make us think well 
 of ourselves. 
 
114 
 
 Alas ! who is humble ? We disclaim perfection, 
 and run down the preachers of it, from a general con- 
 fused consciousness of our unworthiness, but cannot 
 bear to be told of a trifling error in conduct. What 
 management, gentle insinuation, and nice art of ad- 
 dress, is necessary to prevent resentment in such 
 cases, even from a friend ! 
 
 We are sinners by the corruption of the heai't ; 
 and it is a fatal mistake to suppose that we are so 
 only by the commission of sin. Our guilt does not 
 then begin to exist, when it is brought into action, 
 but to appear ; and what was always manifest to God, 
 is now become so to ourselves and others. 
 
 We cannot go to the bottom of sin, without the 
 convincing, searching Spirit of God. If the work is 
 to be our own, we shall deal so very tenderly with 
 ourselves, that nothing can ever come of it. 
 
 It is said, that riches, power, and distinction, are 
 apt to corrupt the heart. The truth is, they find it 
 corrupt ; and all they do is, to set men at liberty to 
 act according to their nature, and thus add to the 
 strength of it. But are not many persons humble, 
 orderly, and well-disposed in a low estate, who be- 
 come insolent and insufferable in prosperity ? They 
 might be hypocrites in a low estate, and conceal their 
 passions and tempers for various causes, but they 
 never were humble or well-disposed. 
 
 It would be a sad thing to think that we shall 
 never be better than we are, or can make ourselves. 
 
 All men are naturally in a state of hostility with 
 some, and ready upon occasion to be so with all, or 
 any, wife or child not excepted. 
 
 The passions do not always torment us — we could 
 
11.5 
 
 not bear it ; but then, the mahgnity of them is rooted 
 in the constitution, though it does not ahvays appear. 
 As persons, subject to fits, have the cause lurking 
 within, though they have them not every day. 
 
 When we open ourselves to others, it is partially 
 and hypocritically, with prevarication and great ten- 
 derness to ourselves, and with design to be admired 
 and flattered by them, rather than counselled and 
 convinced. Alas ! we do so to God more than we 
 are aware of. 
 
 Man is ever at odds with God about the condition 
 of his acceptance. He fancies he has some re- 
 sources in himself, some worthiness of his own, that, 
 with a few grains of allowance, will bear him out, and 
 rejects the aids of the gospel. But the Scripture is 
 peremptory ; he has none : " Without me ye can do 
 nothing." 
 
 o 
 
 After the commission of sin, or any eruption of 
 our inbred malignity, we quickly heal ourselves again, 
 and reinstate ourselves in our own good opinion. 
 How much better would it be to let our nature appear 
 in its frightful nakedness, and to consider that the 
 cursed root of all still remains, and that, if not here 
 destroyed, in another world it can produce nothing 
 but essential, uninterrupted misery, when we have 
 no longer the joys and comforts, cares and amuse- 
 ments, of this hfe, to keep off the sight of ourselves ! 
 
 If I bring my pride with me to the work of God, 
 it will feed as sweetly upon it as upon any other dis- 
 tinction, and in the end fatally blast it. 
 
 W^e know we should be good, and therefore con- 
 clude at once that we are so ; especially if we can 
 read, and abound with notions. Our pride asks for 
 no proofs. 
 
116 
 
 Our being in this world given up to flesh and 
 blood, is our fall. From the beginning it was not 
 so. God and his angels see us where we are, with 
 pity and concern. But man is positive that his pre- 
 sent being, circumstanced as it is, was his original 
 state, resolves to make the most of it ; is almost 
 equally fond of it, whether he laughs or howls out 
 his time : never profits by his own or other men's 
 perpetual disappointments; and, in consequence of 
 his mistake, dies worse than a brute. 
 
 Man has the worst qualities of brutes, without 
 their best. 
 
 The observations I make upon the pride and cor- 
 ruption of my nature, instead of humbling me, only 
 gives me a handle to value myself upon my penetra- 
 tion. 
 
 It is to be feared, that a secret wish to be saved 
 without holiness, is the great bar to our progress to- 
 wards perfection. 
 
 Most men's notion of sin is only this, that what- 
 ever it is, they themselves are not guilty of it. None 
 are so absurd as to think, that they do all they 
 should do, or that they are guilty of no deviations 
 from the rule of right ; but that their state is sinful 
 upon the whole, or that sin is damnable, they do not 
 believe. 
 
 Our pride, as delicate as it is, can be content to 
 feed upon that stench and corruption, which a little 
 humility makes us nauseate. 
 
 The character of man is. Proud sinner. 
 
 A creature made capable of knowing, loving, and 
 enjoying God, and yet ignorant of him, and turned 
 from him, or, which is all one, not turned to him in 
 
117 
 
 the bent of its will, desire, and affections, must ne- 
 cessarily be in a fallen state, and perverted from the 
 end of its creation. 
 
 I do not want humanity or social virtue. I can 
 be honest and civil, and observe the law of kindness 
 in my actions, but who shall give me humility, meek- 
 ness, patience, inward purity, and the love of God .'' 
 
 Men do not want the devil now to tempt them 
 into a belief that they shall be as gods, knowing 
 good and evil : they are but too well persuaded of 
 their own ability. 
 
 " Wilt thou be made whole ?" is a trying ques- 
 tion, when it comes to be well considered. 
 
 If I grapple with sin in my own strength, the 
 devil knows he may go to sleep. 
 
 What can show man's horrid corruption in a 
 stronger light, than that war should be lawful (if it 
 be lawful) to prevent greater mischiefs? 
 
 All the difference between sin latent and breakini; 
 out into act, is, that man now sees what God saw be- 
 fore. And our compunction is generally for the dis- 
 covery of it. We can feel sin in ourselves for years, 
 and know that God sees it, with very little concern. 
 
 It is no uncommon instance of the deceitfulness of 
 the heart, for men to venture upon the general con- 
 tempt by becoming religious, and at the same time 
 make all up to themselves by their own esteem, or 
 the good opinion of a few. But to be universally 
 despised, and to know certainly, by an inward feeling 
 not to be evaded, that we deserve it, is not so com- 
 mon or so easy. 
 
 The [appearance of religion only on Sundays, 
 proves that it is only an appearance. 
 
118 
 
 It is not the least innocent kind of ambition, to 
 seek after praise in the way of rcHgious usefulness. 
 
 Never a day passes but the devil offers his service. 
 
 Mankind are perpetually at variance, by being all 
 of one sect, namely, selfists. 
 
 We are undone by distinguishing time from eter- 
 nity, and carrying on a separate interest for it. 
 There are few who do not disobey God in the capital 
 instance ordained for their trial. The obedience we 
 compliment him with, generally speaking, costs us 
 nothing. 
 
 Our state and being in this world is our fall, and 
 the loss of our paradise ; and we may as well seek 
 felicity in hell as here. 
 
 Who can value money at a higher rate, or pay 
 dearer for it, than the man who gets and keeps it in 
 opposition to the light of conscience ? 
 
 Human nature is like a bad clock. It may go 
 right now and then, or be made to strike the hour, 
 but its inward frame is to go wrong. 
 
 Our natural proneness to resentment, hatred, ma- 
 lice, never fails to show itself upon what we call a 
 proper occasion ; that is, when we can make a shift 
 to flatter ourselves that we shall have the world on 
 our side, and never more (O shame !) than in the 
 cause of God and religion. The misfortune is in 
 thinking that there ever can be any such occasion ; 
 and that we should ever think so, is sufficient proof 
 of our corruption and unfitness by nature for our 
 proper happiness. 
 
 It is strange we should not see the folly of putting 
 ourselves in the power of others, for much the great- 
 est part of our happiness; though we cannot help 
 
119 
 
 knowing, that naturally they are more disposed to 
 counteract it, and want to be pleased and humoured 
 themselves as much as we do. 
 
 Certainly, in a general way, the best mere moral 
 characters are only what any one may be, and all 
 prudent persons at all times would be, if Christ had 
 never come into the world. 
 
 Where is man's boasted rectitude, when he neither 
 knows what he is, nor will accept of it when he does ? 
 
 Flying with horror, from the thought that we are 
 unfit to die, if God should take us this day and hour 
 out of the world, keeps off the discovery of our true 
 state more than any thing else, and fatally hinders 
 our preparation for it. 
 
 We are often so much concerned about the appear- 
 ance of happiness, as never to cast one thought to- 
 ward the reality of it. 
 
 Human virtue works no care, gives no peace. 
 
 We would be happy in spite of God and nature, 
 in failure of duty, and with nothing about us but the 
 grounds of misery. 
 
 If a man would know himself truly, let him consi- 
 der what he is, and how he behaves where he has 
 power; that is, where he thinks himself least obliged 
 to dissemble. 
 
 When we see and judge rightly of the guilt and 
 malignity of sin, still it is with a great reserve of ten- 
 derness for ourselves, and we chiefly mean the sin 
 of others. Thus, instead of reforming, every one 
 excuses one. 
 
 Reformation is the object we pretend to aim at, but 
 we are perpetually mistaking the subject of it : it is 
 ourselves. 
 
It is dreadful (but perhaps not uncommon) self- 
 deceit, to present ourselves before God with a lie in 
 our mouths, and hypocrisy in our hearts, or a secret 
 unwillingness to be and to do as we pray. 
 
 Where almost is the man who does all he can, 
 and all that Christ demands of him ? It would fill 
 the most pious soul with shame and confusion to be 
 upbraided by him for what it might have done. 
 
 What ado there is to work up the heart to any 
 liking of God ! The reason is, we begin it of our- 
 selves, and think to do it in our own strength ; 
 whereas it can only be done in faith, and the Spirit's 
 power. 
 
 We are ruined by fancying we are what we know 
 or read, or that we can make ourselves so in the turn 
 of a thought ; or if w^e see and own a defect, yet 
 thinking tenderly of ourselves when we are chargeable 
 with horrid depravity, and absolutely unfit for God. 
 
 Man's holiness: much ado about nothing. If you 
 would have a good opinion of your hcc -.1;, keep the 
 Holy Ghost out of it. 
 
 Every one may have observed, that in paroxysms 
 of passion, or ill humour, the judgment is absolutely 
 disabled; we are incapable of reasoning; keenly in 
 the wrong, and very positive. It is not uncommon 
 for persons to be thus blind in cold blood, and some 
 all their lives. 
 
 Reason never discerns itself, or any thing else 
 truly, till it sees its own impotei^je. 
 
 Some will mortify tftemselves in many things, and 
 do almost every thing in religion but one: unfortu- 
 nately, that one is the test of their obedience, and the 
 very thing required of them. 
 
121 \ 
 
 Let this ever be uppermost in my thoughts, and 
 the great rule of my conversing with all, that we are 
 immortal beings in the first stage of our existence, 
 full of mistakes, or unconcerned about the matter, 
 and yet dreadfully concerned in the issue. 
 
 Sense of an irretrievable error in life, fastening 
 upon the mind, is a foretaste of hell. 
 
 We may find out the selfish stubbornness of our 
 wills, unmortified desires, and earthly bent, in small 
 crosses, when we do not in greater. Great crosses 
 seem to furnish some excuse for complaint, and na- 
 ture is more pitied than blamed for sinking under 
 them ; but small ones, fretting and galling us, afford 
 no refuge against conviction. 
 
 Desnair is the growth of pride, and not of humi- 
 lity. Why are we overwhelmed with doubts and 
 fears ? Because we are unworthy. Is it not plain, 
 therefore, that we look for a worthiness in ourselves, 
 which we neither have nor ever shall have ? 
 
 WTiy are we more alarmed and concerned at 
 breaches of duty to man than God, but because they 
 are seen and observed ? What then is our principle 
 of action ? 
 
 When men love and admire us, we think it is for 
 some merit in ourselves, and for a natural working of 
 pride can love them again. It is for the same rea- 
 son that we love God so little, notwithstanding his 
 superabundant goodness to us in Christ, because it 
 lays us low, strips us of all excellence, and can only 
 be received in a deep sense of our own unworthiness. 
 
 We are often more ashamed than grieved and 
 humbled for our sins. Our own consciousness of 
 them, and of God's being privy to them, does not 
 
 F 7 
 
pain us near bo much as it would to have them known 
 to others. See, therefore, whether what you call 
 your penitence is not more pride than any thing else. 
 Why does the present hour come loaded with dis- 
 gust, and lie heavy upon our hands, but because we 
 know not what to do in it, or resolve to do any thing 
 but what we should ? 
 
 Not one in a thousand forms his plan of life, and 
 pursues it steadily from principle and regard to the 
 M'ill of God; if we did, there would hardly be an 
 unhappy man in the world. 
 
 '* God be merciful to me a sinner," said the pub- 
 lican. If I was to hear you wishing to be the man, 
 I should hope well of your case : if you say you are, 
 it is a hundred to one you are mistaken. 
 
 If you would know what your root is, consider 
 how your virtues are in exercise towards God. You 
 abhor the imputation of ingratitude; the meaning is, 
 you would not have the world think that you are un- 
 grateful ; for perhaps you have not one spark of gra- 
 titude to your great Benefactor, your God and Fa- 
 ther. You would not be false to the marriage-bed; 
 but where is your fidelity to Jesus, the Lord and 
 Husband of every Christian ? And as to the point 
 of justice, a most sacred virtue, and verj' high in your 
 esteem, why must every creature have its due from 
 you, and not God? and why do you think so little of 
 what is his due ? You honour the command of a 
 man like yourself; but M-hy are so many of God's 
 commands slighted? 
 
 Learned men, and inquirers into nature, are bcLt 
 upon knowing a great deal in this world, where we 
 can hardly know any thing, and too often neglect the 
 means of knowing every thing in another. 
 
123 
 
 Wretched mankind ! who, in your natural state, 
 can only be happy in opposition to the will of God. 
 
 Everj' natural man's aim, in all he savs and does, 
 is first to gain his own good opinion, and then to ap- 
 pear better to others than he does to himself. The 
 Scripture doctrine of the fall and universal depravity 
 of mankind, though not denied, has but little effect, 
 because every man has a good opinion of one, and sees 
 corruption only in others. 
 
 It is a full vindication of Providence, that every 
 man may choose God for his friend and portion, if 
 he pleases; and that so few do, is a full proof of the 
 blindness, corruption, and degeneracy of mankind. 
 
 It is the great dispute of the world, and of every 
 man naturally with himself, whether happiness con- 
 sists in the commission or forbearance of sin : and 
 most of those who declare for the latter, contradict 
 themselves bv their courses. 
 
 No one can boast of what he does, of ever think 
 of bringing it to account, who considers what he does 
 not do. 
 
 Not to sin, may be a bitter cross ; to sin, is hell. 
 
 In respect of sin, I am where the plague is, see 
 many sick of it, and in continual danger myself. 
 
 A wratliful passionate man is as Mount Vesuvius, 
 
 hollow, and stored with combustible matter, which is 
 
 every now and then breaking out, to the terror and 
 
 aiu^-uish of all about him. 
 o 
 
 God can save us only by his own power, for his 
 ijlorv, merely in a way of grace and tavour, solely by 
 Christ, to the end we may love, adore, and pr;use 
 him ; and yet the wish and will of man, notwith- 
 standing the peculiar discoveries of the Christian re- 
 F 2 
 
124f 
 
 ligion, and the fullest conviction of infinite defect, is 
 to be independent and self-saved. 
 
 I would gladly believe that the nature of mankind 
 is not so bad as mine; and yet, when I observe the 
 defects of the best of men, I find there is but little 
 ground for any such hope. 
 
 One great mistake of the world, and the greatest 
 bar to the happiness and well-being of mankind, rich 
 and poor, is thinking that all the money we are pos- 
 sessed of is our own. 
 
 Perhaps many who think themselves high in 
 Christ's school, have not yet begun with his A, B, C. 
 
 I fear nothing so much, and there is nothing I 
 have so much reason to fear, as myself. 
 
 If sin had not brought death into the world, and 
 Christ to the cross, we should never have known so 
 much of the goodness of God as we do. 
 
 Sinning is so much a nature, and so close wrought 
 into the constitution of man, that I can scarcely form 
 a conception of existence without it. 
 
 I can no more root out the evil qualities of my soul 
 by any volition, resolution, or efforts of my own, than 
 I can think the stone out of my body. 
 
 O that I longed for the time of perfect deliverance, 
 both of soul and body ! 
 
 O that sigh ! Do happy people ever sigh ? 1 find 
 I want something which God will not suffer me to 
 have ; and till we are of the same mind, Hfe can be 
 nothing at bottom but one perpetual sigh. 
 
 We can take reproof patiently from a book, but 
 not from a tongue. The book hurts not our pride, 
 the living reprover does ; and we cannot bear to have 
 our faults seen by others. 
 
125 
 
 We confess our emptiness to God in very strong 
 terms; and when we have done praying, are apt to 
 depend altogether upon ourselves. 
 
 It is a vain and impious thought to imagine that 1 
 can do any tlnng by my own strength. Dependence 
 on God, in every single act of thmking and willing, is 
 both my duty and security. 
 
 It may justly be questioned whether self-power 
 can be communicated to a creature. 
 
 It is much easier to join one's self to a sect than 
 to God. 
 
 The soul is naturally frightened, and shrinks from 
 the thought of living only upon God and to God. 
 
 Submitting to the Spirit's operations, is like being 
 laid naked upon a table to be cut for the stone. — Mor- 
 tification carries death to the enemy of it, and is a stab 
 at the heart. Nature's conclusion is " Therefore, 
 not to-day." 
 
 It is a sore trial to the soul, which knows any thing 
 of itself, to come close up to God : he is light and 
 truth, all love and purity ; the soul dark, selfish, and 
 sin-polluted. 
 
 The reason why we should draw nigh to God, and 
 keep a continual intercourse with him, is the reason 
 why we do not ; we want his Hght and help, and thi« 
 want is the very thing which makes us averse to hirn, 
 and keeps us from him. 
 
 Man would be intolerable to himself, and look out 
 every way for help, if it was not for his pride. 
 
 There is in the heart of man a deep-rooted covet- 
 ousness ; a subtle worldly spirit, suggesting diabolical 
 murderous thoughts, for its own ends. 
 
 If God did not take us to himself, few would go to 
 him of their own accord. 
 
1S6 
 
 " Why callest thou me good ?" O man ! why 
 callest thou thyself good ? 
 
 We see and know enough of ourselves, to dread 
 the thought of being seen and known by others ; and 
 knowing that God sees us, and looking on ourselves 
 without pain, self-condemnation, or one mortifying 
 reflection, is a fatal symptom, and full proof of our 
 spiritual dcadness. 
 
 We get a glimpse of true wisdom, and know how 
 we should live, perhaps an hour before we die. 
 
 If we seek our happiness in any thing besides the 
 peace of God and a good conscience, we shall as 
 certainly be unhappy, as that every thing in the world 
 is uncertain. 
 
 Parting with sin is harder than parting with my 
 wife. She was bone of my bone, and flesh of my 
 flesh; sin is in the bone and in the flesh, and twisted 
 about every fibre of the heart. 
 
 Religious truths, and religious employments, are 
 not so much our choice for the sake of their own ex- 
 cellence, as a force upon nature, and what we fly to 
 as some kind of relief from the vanity and insufficiency 
 of every thing else. 
 
 If we might be easy and satisfied in and from the 
 world, perhaps we should look nowhere else for hap- 
 piness. 
 
 Though nature is dying, and, as to the strength 
 and vigour of it, almost gone, corruption is strong as 
 ever; and herein is full proof that it does not die 
 with the body. 
 
 To unregenerate men, it may be less painful to 
 suffer than to do the will of God. 
 
 It is justly said, That sin must be hated and ab- 
 
127 
 
 horred for its own sake, apart from consequences ; 
 but who almost would not sin, in one respect or other, 
 if they were equally sure of heaven, sin or not ? 
 
 The more I attempt to murder time, the more life 
 it has to murder me, soul and body. If I put my 
 time in my pocket, it is no excuse to say that I do 
 not carry it to the play-house. 
 
 Time waits upon the soul early every mornincr, 
 and says. What wilt thou have me to do to-day ? It 
 is a shame to say what the answer is, but will one 
 day be known. 
 
 I would willingly go to Siberia for the remainder 
 of my life, if I could leave myself behind me. 
 
 The soul is not self-sufficient, cannot be indepen- 
 dent, must have some prop : unhappily it chooses 
 such as shrink from under it. 
 
 We do not set the mark of holiness hijjh enoujxh : 
 we do not raise our desire up to the Scripture stan- 
 dard of it; we do not trust and pray enough. 
 
 What should I be, if I had talents to be proud of, 
 when I am so proud of nothing ? 
 
 I cannot take the dimensions of Christ's love, 
 without a proper knowledge of my own sin. 
 
 Strictly speaking, there is no difference of char- 
 acters with God, in point of real excellence and exact 
 conformity to his law. 
 
 Sin keeps no Sabbaths. 
 
 The folly of irreligion is either desiring that last 
 which we most want, or presuming that we can do 
 every thing for ourselves, and so never applying to 
 God. 
 
 A full sight of the corruption of human nature, if 
 we exempt ourselves from it in whole or in part, will 
 
U8 
 
 certainly be followed with a splenetic contempt of 
 others, approaching to misanthropy. 
 
 The deformity of present sin is hidden, or very 
 much lessened, by its concomitant pleasure ; past sin, 
 the pleasure of it being gone, appears to be what it 
 is. 
 
 God's pity will hold me up and carry me through ; 
 my own, with all the reason I can put to it, and all 
 the efforts I can make, is nothing. 
 
 How sad, during hfe, to have conscience only a 
 tormentor ! 
 
 My corruption is strong, and bondage to sin evi- 
 dent, when I am so long in making what I know to 
 be a right and necessary choice. 
 
 I see my sin in every person I meet. 
 
 If the heart is not filled with a pure love by a 
 divine change, its nature is corruption, and it can be 
 nothing but a sink of iniquity, whatever disguises it 
 may put on to deceive both the world and itself. 
 
 It would be great self-ignorance and presumption 
 in me to say, I will not sin to-day. 
 
 Men love only those who love them, hardly any 
 without a view to some advantage of their o^\^l, and 
 never those who are enemies, or thwart their interest 
 and inclinations. God loves man purely and disin- 
 terestedly, notwithstanding his vileness, aversion, and 
 enmity to him. 
 
 People never tell more lies than in their prayers. 
 
 I should not have had the stone in my bladder or 
 kidneys, or both, if I had not first had a stone in my 
 heart. 
 
 Sinning is putting poison into the sting of death. 
 The great dependence through life, with most men, 
 
129 
 
 is on to-morrow, and to-morrow is still before, while 
 it never will be overtaken. 
 
 It is the hardest thing in the world to call out in 
 earnest for help against one's self, and yet all depends 
 upon it. 
 
 Though I have used myself to think meanly of 
 the human heart, and have great reason so to do, from 
 the knowledge I have of my own, yet I am sensible 
 that it is an unknown depth. 
 
 We never turn to God as our centre of rest, su- 
 preme delight, and sovereign good, till we have tried 
 every thing else. 
 
 Gataker, supposing that the practice of Marcus 
 Antoninus was conformed to his sentiments, confesses 
 with shame how far he came short of so great a pat- 
 tern. But this very thing shows the superior excel- 
 lence of the Christian : no heathen philosopher ever 
 made such a confession. With all their knowledge, 
 they did not know themselves. 
 
 It is a real, but most horrible truth, that the bulk 
 of mankind are not in charity with God. 
 
 It is wonderful to consider how naturally we all 
 lean to the law for salvation, without observing that 
 we are as naturally averse to the practice of it as in- 
 clined to lean to it, and that it is impossible to an- 
 swer its demands. 
 
 If I could do for myself what I ask of God, 1 
 should be a god to myself: I should have little de- 
 pendence upon, or regard to the God who made hea- 
 ven and earth : I should hardly believe there is such 
 a God. 
 
 Sin, by a natural right, demands execution of its 
 curse at God's hands. 
 
 f3 
 
130 
 
 One reason why the world is not reformed, is, be- 
 cause every man would have others make a beginning, 
 and never thinks of himself. 
 
 If I was to think daily and hourly, and think of 
 nothing else for a thousand years but how to cleanse 
 my heart, or root one vice out of it in my own 
 strength, I should be no nearer to it at the end than 
 I was at the beginning. 
 
 There may be horrid pride in confessing and ag- 
 gravating? our sins — " That ever I should do this !" 
 Why, who are you ? Do you not see that you are 
 making yourself somebody with God ? 
 
 Instead of making religious exercises a step of ap- 
 proach to God, seeking God by them, and pressing 
 to God through them, there is danger of making them 
 a pretence for keeping ourselves from him, and a 
 means of quieting conscience without him. 
 
 It is a great point of religion to know the heart. 
 I see but a very small part of its deceit, hypocrisy, 
 and desperate -wickedness. 
 
 We have commonly one master-sin, a^id are so 
 blinded with it, as not to see others as great, and more 
 dangerous, because they are hidden. 
 
 With what reluctance should we submit to sleep, 
 if this present period of our existence was thoroughly 
 happy : as it is not, it is a mercy that we are under a 
 necessity of sleeping out so considerable a part of it ; 
 and this very necessity is also a proof and conviction, 
 that we neither are, nor intended to be, perfectly 
 happy in this present life. Whenever the happiness 
 of man is complete, God, the author of it, will not 
 suffer it to admit of any interruption : " They rest 
 not day nor night, crying. Holy," &c. Rev. iv. 8. 
 
131 
 
 Our whole behaviour by nature is a perpetual dis- 
 guise. The mischief of this is, that we take our- 
 selves not only for what we appear to be, but for 
 what we would be thought to be ; and continue 
 strangers to the corruption of our hearts, and deaf to 
 the Word of God ; the great purpose of which is, to 
 discover and make known that corruption, the method 
 of cure, and the necessity of complying with it. 
 
 Nature shrinks from the ghastly apparition of its 
 own corruption ; will not believe it in good earnest : 
 thinks it may be retained (in part at least) with im- 
 punity ; flies from the sight to sensuality and vain 
 amusements. It is a dreadful thing for man, capti- 
 vated as he is by the spirit of the world, to be told 
 that he must die to it by a deep abhorrence of his 
 state. This shows the necessity of that divine touch 
 upon our spirits, called Jaith ; and the effect, wher- 
 ever it is produced, proves the reality of it. 
 
 1 Sam. xii. 21. " And turn ye not aside, for then 
 should ye go after vain things, which cannot profit 
 nor deliver;" together with Isa. xlv. 20, 21. Jer. xvi. 
 19, 20. See here the mischief and venom of ido- 
 latry. Man is in a fallen state ; wants deliverance ; 
 cannot help himself; and yet, by a strange perverse- 
 ness in his will and understanding, turns from the 
 only being that can help him, to things confessedly 
 more impotent than himself. Sad proof of his de- 
 generacy, and of the blind subjection he is in to evil 
 spirits. 
 
 This world is confessedly not the region of happi- 
 ness; all is uncertainty, disappointment, and delusion: 
 one would think, therefore, that those at least who 
 pretend not to love it, and to dread its snares, should 
 
132 
 
 be glad to be removed out of it into a place of safety 
 and happiness ; but, generally speaking, they wish to 
 be excused, and there are very few who really desire 
 it. Alas ! it is to be feared, that even those who are 
 called, and think themselves Christians, are sadly in- 
 sincere, and little known either to themselves or 
 others. 
 
 I believe the hicrhest angels are the humblest of 
 
 o o 
 
 all creatures. They neither glory in their rank, nor 
 ascribe their state and continuance in it to their obe- 
 dience and readiness to do the will of God ; but cast 
 their crowns down before the throne, as knowing 
 they are what they are, by continual influxes from 
 thence ; and yet vile man thinks it hard that he may 
 not make some reckoning of his works and services, 
 even in his polluted, unregenerate state. 
 
 It is the nature of man to wrangle, fight, and shed 
 blood. So long as men are men, there can be no 
 such thing as peace, national, civil, or ecclesiastical. 
 
 The concealment of our good actions may proceed 
 from pride, and without due care and reflection will 
 increase it to a dangerous height. We shall be apt 
 to make ourselves amends at home for our self-denial 
 abroad, and pay ourselves to the full that applause 
 which we think we so justly deserve. And, O ! how 
 we hug the dear idol of self-complacency, when it is 
 tinselled over with a show of humility ! 
 
 The carnal mind is the life of sense ; by which is 
 not meant gross sensuality, or immorality, but acqui- 
 escence in our state as such, without any thought or 
 desire of a change ; loving and adhering to the world ; 
 a full relish of earthly enjoyments, and a fondness of 
 earthly comforts, and the means of procuring them. 
 
133 
 
 If this is the prevailing habit and temper of the mind, 
 God is fatally excluded, let a man think what he will 
 of himself, or what fair pretences soever he may 
 make to religion. But, say some, " How must we 
 know when this is our case ?" Never till the doc- 
 trine of the cross is in good earnest attended to, and 
 we come to understand the contrariety of such a state 
 to the will of God, and consider it as our absolute 
 unfitness for the kingdom of heaven. But then, 
 this is not the whole of the carnal mind : to brincr it 
 further into view, let us take our rise from Scrip- 
 ture, " Except your righteousness exceed the right- 
 eousness of the Scribes and Pharisees," that is, of 
 mere men, though ever so learned, " ye shall in no 
 case enter into the kingdom of heaven :" for the 
 Scribes and Pharisees here represent the great doc- 
 tors and rationalists, so called, of all ages and places ; 
 and it does not appear from Scripture that they were 
 scandalously defective in point of morals, or what is 
 commonly called virtue. What then should be the 
 reason that Christ, aU mild and gracious as he was, 
 ever speaks to and of them, with a sharpness that 
 seems to need an apology? It was because they 
 were foremost in a fatal error, and would be apt to 
 lead others irto it, namely, that of self-justification, 
 and the reality and merit of human virtue, which at 
 the best is infinitely defective, generally founded upon 
 rotten principles, and can never stand the judgment 
 of God. This our Saviour shows plainly in the 
 remainder of the chapter ; and indeed in his whole 
 sermon upon the mount, as well as in other places of 
 the gospel. 
 
 What an astonishing thing is sin, which makes 
 
134 
 
 the God of love and Fatlier of mercies an enemy to 
 his creatures, and which could only be purged by the 
 blood of the Son of God ! Though all must believe 
 this who believe the Bible, yet the exceeding sinful- 
 ness of sin is but weakly apprehended by those who 
 have the deepest sense of it, and will never be fully 
 known in this world. 
 
 " Their heart is far from me." Some time ago 
 this text was strong upon my mind, but soon ne- 
 glected and forgotten. Supposing it to be suggested 
 and presented by the Spirit for present use to no pur- 
 pose, we may conceive the manner of the Spirit's 
 working, and how it is quenched by man's resistance 
 or inattention. 
 
 The devil has great advantage from nature, push- 
 ing down-hill, and sometimes from the top to the bot- 
 tom in a moment : the Spirit's work is up-hill. It 
 is by the greatest of miracles that any soul is ever 
 brought to God. 
 
 How astonishing is the quantity of misery in the 
 world ! How many thousands are rending the air 
 with the cry of pain and wretchedness ! Strange, 
 that ever there should be so much ; that there should 
 be any suffering in the creation of a good God ! 
 Doubtless there is a cause for it ; and if Moses had 
 not told us what it is, we should be for ever in the 
 dark. O Adam, what hast thou done ! O man, 
 what art thou always doing ! O Jesus, what hast 
 thou not done to relieve guilt and pain, to sweeten 
 adversity, to blunt the sting of death, to restore 
 happiness in some degree to the earth, and insure it 
 in eternity ! 
 
 Sin is against my retirements, against my prayers, 
 
135 
 
 against the sacrament, against the bowels and wounds 
 of Christ, against my possession and enjoyment of" 
 him, against peace in life and comfort in death, against 
 time, against eternity, against all my hopes. 
 
 I am sure, both from JScripture and long experi- 
 ence of my weakness, that it is God who worketh in 
 us both to will and to do ; and yet my self-sufficient 
 efforts towards a better estate are a practical denial 
 of this belief: instead of leaving it to God to verify 
 his word, and execute his own promises, I would fain 
 do all by a willing and working of my own. 
 
 A person may be high in sahitship, and yet dumb 
 to the question. Do you not break every one of the 
 commandments ? 
 
 It is the general opinion of mankind, and what the 
 fathers, Chrysostom and others, flourish much upon 
 with great confidence, that the will is free. I do not 
 find it so. The captivity of my will is mv misery, 
 and great complaint before God; nor do I think that 
 if it was in equilibrio, any man upon earth would 
 choose evil. The Scripture affirms that the imagi- 
 nation of man's heart is evil conthiually; and it is a 
 great point gained, and directs to a necessary subject 
 of prayer, to know that the will is bound, and that 
 none but God can set it free. 
 
 If God should do any thing but what he does, in 
 any, the minutest instance; send one drop of rain 
 more or less ; diminish one pain ; heighten one en- 
 joyment ; add or take away one moment of life, the 
 consequence might be very bad ; and yet, what is 
 almost all the praying in the world for, but to tell 
 him that we are displeased with his will, and desire 
 him to change it? 
 
186 
 
 When sin is to be renounced as sin, and conse- 
 quently all sin, the resistance of nature is incredible. 
 
 If hypocrisy is, taking up more reputation than we 
 can answer in real worth, who is not a hypocrite ? 
 
 Nothing is a greater proof of man's folly and cor- 
 ruption, than that if he was left to choose his own 
 happiness, and order all events for himself and others, 
 he would certainly ruin both himself and them. 
 
 Sin is the sole cause of all the evil that is in the 
 world, either as produced by it, or the punishment 
 of it. 
 
 Forbearing sin, because I am to pray at such an 
 hour, or receive the sacrament such a day, is only 
 putting it off to a more convenient time. 
 
 While the vail is upon the heart, the vail is upon 
 every thing. 
 
 Whenever I spy a fault in another, I am deter- 
 mined to look for two in myself, and they will not be 
 far to seek. 
 
 As meanly as I think of mankind, I still find my- 
 self inordinately pursuing their applause, and am apt 
 to fear their censure, more than the displeasure of 
 God. 
 
 Every natural man has one or more good qualities, 
 by which alone he estimates his worth and character, 
 and lives and dies an infidel to his bad ones. 
 
 Whatever we see without the Spirit's eyes, can 
 have no other effect than to fill us with conceit of a 
 knowledge which we have not, and seal us up in car- 
 nal security. 
 
 Hell is being given up to the full knowledge and 
 essential malignity of sin, — the Scripture says, with- 
 out hope, and for ever ; and it does not appear to 
 
137 
 
 me that any criticism has yet explained away the pre- 
 cise meaning of it. 
 
 Opposition to the will of God is the essence and 
 sole cause of all our misery. There is no possibility 
 of happiness but in compliance with it, and yet there 
 can be none in a forced conformity to it. It must of 
 all necessity be the great object of the soul, its rest 
 and centre, and every thing must be sacrificed to it 
 cheerfully and with delight. Who shall bring us t^ 
 this ? For if it is not my nature, I see at once that 
 I can no more make myself so, than I could make 
 myself at the first. 
 
 The understanding discerns, in most cases, as 
 truly and immediately what is right, as the eye does 
 light and colours ; and why then does not the will 
 always comply with the dictates of reason and judg- 
 ment ? It would, if it was free. 
 
 Sin is the only thing which God hates, and almost 
 the only thing that man loves. 
 
 There is not an outward sin but we can resolve 
 against and abstain from, to avoid shame and the 
 censure of the world. Two things follow from 
 hence : first, that natural weakness, in respect of sin, 
 is not so great as is pretended ; the other is dreadful 
 to think of, and dreadfully plain, namely, that if we 
 do not resolve against, and avoid all sin, for God's 
 sake, from whom we know nothing is hid, we do not 
 fear him. 
 
 Sin must be resisted, and the outward act of any 
 sin may be avoided ; but we cannot cast it out of the 
 heart. 
 
 Sensible fear and love of God, or dread of his dis- 
 pleasure, and an habitual, steady resolution to secure 
 
138 
 
 his favour, is the work and proof of regeneration by 
 a divine power ; for naturally we neither have this 
 disposition, nor ability to acquire it. 
 
 When reason is convinced and duty evident, still 
 
 the will is bound, and no power of man can set it free. 
 
 The generality think of nothing but getting to 
 
 heaven by a lie; either that they have little or no 
 
 sin, or that sin hath little or no harm in it. 
 
 We tell God that we are sinners, miserable and 
 helpless, but cannot bear to be told so by others. 
 
 Think not what you are to have, but what you 
 should be, and are not, and then be proud if you can. 
 Christ says, " Sit down in the lowest room ;" but 
 the lowest, according to St. Paul, is so very low, that 
 hardly a single man will sit down in it. — Read Rev. 
 iii. 17, 18. Gal. V. 19—21. Tit. iii. 3. 
 
 With respect to a man's character, he had better 
 be guilty of almost any sin, than what the world calls 
 too much religion. 
 
 Man is fallen into a deplorable state of blindness, 
 impotence, and corruption ; will not believe it in good 
 earnest; prides himself in his own abilities; will stand 
 or fall by the light of what he calls his reason, and 
 rejects his only remedy, which is dying to his state 
 and nature, his own works, will, and wisdom, that 
 Christ may live in him, and be all in all to him, 
 wisdom, righteousness, and sanctification, and by 
 these, redemption. 
 
 It is a rare thing for people to think themselves 
 fools now ; it is esteemed humility enough to think 
 they have been so. 
 
 We could never have so goodly a conceit of our- 
 selves, if we had not first an undue opinion of self- 
 
139 
 
 power ; that is to say, unless we were proud, and full 
 of a spirit of independency. It seems to be the 
 most general opinion, that this was the cause of the 
 angels' and of Adam's fall ; and if so, it is the greatest 
 bar to the recovery of the soul. 
 
 Whatever was the sin of Lucifer, it is probable 
 the sin of Adam was the same. It is natural to 
 suppose the devil would tempt him to transgress in 
 the same way that he himself did, as well knoNnng 
 the sad effects of it. 
 
 Virtue is chiefly considered by us as necessary for 
 the peace and welfare of society ; and this is gener- 
 ally pretty well secured by that spurious thing which 
 has the name of it, namely, convenience, ease, and a 
 sense of reputation. If our behaviour is but calcu- 
 lated to answer these ends, we look no farther, and 
 perhaps wonder, in the pride of our hearts, why God 
 does not, as he easily might, interpose to prevent the 
 mischiefs occasioned by the perverseness of a few; 
 but then, he himself is ever and anon troublincr the 
 order of the w^orld, and the repose of individuals, by 
 terrible inflictions. The consequence is plain — we 
 are ignorant of our state, and live in a perpetual mis- 
 take. God does not make so great reckoning of 
 this life as we do. He aims at the reformation of 
 the heart ; and the severe methods he takes to bring 
 it about, prove the necessity of such a reformation. 
 
 What farther proof can we need of the wretched 
 perverseness and corruption of man's heart, than that 
 he should desire, esteem, and love the things which 
 are confessedly unable to make him happy, and that 
 what can, should be the only thing he does not de- 
 sire? 
 
140 
 
 The man who knows himself to be a devil, is in a 
 fair way to be a saint. Rom. iii. 9 — 18. 
 
 It is no uncommon thinff for men to do fjood 
 without virtue, give without charity, and pray with- 
 out reli(rion. 
 
 It is difficult to keep self from mingling with the 
 work of salvation. We think it hard that we may 
 not be allowed to pay something towards the price 
 of it ; to contribute some work or fancied worthiness 
 of our own; that is to say, (shocking thought !) we 
 would put something of our own into the scale with 
 the blood of Christ, to make it full weight. 
 
 There is something odd happens in the mixing 
 of Paganism with Christianity. The appearance of 
 Christianity remains, the substance evaporates ; the 
 appearance of Paganism vanishes, the substance re- 
 mains. 
 
 If we were left to nature to choose a god and a 
 heaven for ourselves, it would not be the God that 
 made the heavens and the earth, nor our heaven that 
 where he dwelleth. 
 
 Reading is for the most part only a more refined 
 species of sensuality, and answers man's purpose of 
 shuffling off his great work with God and himself, 
 as well as a ball or a masquerade. 
 
 Man is an errant bungler at God's work ; he spoils 
 all, if he does but touch it with a finger. What a 
 terrible mortification, to think that the business of 
 his salvation cannot go forward unless he is separated 
 from himself, and, as it were, outlawed as a mis- 
 chievous person, or thrown into a corner as a piece 
 of useless lumber ! 
 
 Business, amusements, company, a general relish 
 
141 
 
 of life, and a confused hope of mercy in God, or of 
 future amendment, keep the soul tolerably quiet here ; 
 but how dreadfully amazing is it to think of its being 
 consigned to a state of eternal reprobation, without 
 one single object to divert its attention from its own 
 frightful nakedness ! 
 
 It may not be improper to consider every person 
 we happen to be in company with, in three respects, 
 let his station or circumstances be what they Avill : 
 1st, As having a high opinion of himself. 2d, As 
 one for whom Christ died. And, 3d, As naturally 
 lying under great disadvantages with regard to his 
 spiritual concerns. The first will be a caution to us 
 not to affront or offend him ; the second will encrarre 
 us to promote his salvation ; the third to pity his in- 
 firmities. 
 
 The greatest want of all, is a want of the sense of 
 our wants. This is the root of infidelity. 
 
 The generality of those who lead regular, moral 
 lives, and think themselves settled upon a good bot- 
 tom, for having been baptized, &c. are but the more 
 confirmed in a natural unconverted state by what 
 they call their virtue. It is evident, from a hundred 
 things they say and do, that the root of the matter 
 is not in them. 
 
 Upon httle occasions, and for mere trifles, I can 
 become a hell to myself. What should I do witli 
 this accursed nature, if I had no other company but 
 devils, who would take a malicious pleasure in goad- 
 ing and stinging me into their own torments ? 
 
 Every man naturally turns upon his own centre, 
 and is as much a detached system from every other 
 man, as one fixed star is from another ; what regard 
 
142 
 
 he has for the species, or connexion with it, arises 
 solely out of this very selfishness or individualship. 
 
 If we were but half- Christians, the world would 
 be at peace with us. 
 
 What is generally meant by a moral man, is one 
 who does not govern himself by the fear of God, or 
 the ten commandments, but by a law of his own 
 making. 
 
 It is matter of great self-abasement, and full proof 
 of our depravity, that sin, the only thing which God 
 hates, we should hate so little. 
 
 Did the sight of your own deformity never make 
 you start? 
 
 We were made to live in God as our element, 
 and are not in it. If this is not a fall, ruin, and 
 death, what is ? 
 
 The devil will suffer us, nay, if it were possible, 
 he would help us, to put away every sin but one, if 
 he could be sure we would keep that one. 
 
 " God lives through all life," — the soul of man 
 not excepted; which is no more self-sufficient than 
 self- existent, but the most helpless of all beings, 
 though it proudly challenges independence. 
 
 The world is not altered since the time of Socrates. 
 Ask one by one, and see who is not mistaken as to 
 the quantity of his wisdom and goodness. 
 
 If we were naked and open to all the world as we 
 are to God, and in some measure to ourselves, how 
 loathsome and abominable ! what monsters should we 
 appear ! 
 
 It is time to have done with future prospects, or 
 a vain imagination that we shall be happy, or more 
 at ease, when such a point is gained, or such an im- 
 
143 
 
 pediment removed ; whereas nothing is more certain, 
 than that every period of life, and every day, will 
 bring its own burden along with it ; and that there 
 is no possibility of happiness, but in bearing it ac- 
 cording to the will of God. 
 
144 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 REPENTANCE, 
 
 The repentance which precedes faith, consists 
 chiefly of a sense of danger and a feai' of punishment; 
 but when we come to have a lively apprehension of 
 pardoning love, and our adoption in Christ, it is 
 genuine, filial sorrow for having offended God. 
 
 Generally speaking, it is to he feared we do not 
 dread sin, but the punishment of it ; and yet, tiU we 
 hate sin, as such, and feel our misery under it, it is 
 in vain to talk of repentance. 
 
 Till we are so convinced of sin, as fully to pro- 
 nounce the sentence of condemnation upon ourselves, 
 we shall not receive mercy, as mercy, but consider it 
 as a debt. 
 
 So long as we are joined to the world ; acting in 
 the main for worldly ends ; attached to its interest ; 
 oppressed with its cares, or devoted to its pleasures ; 
 we must either totally reject, or explain away the 
 gospel. 
 
 The law is not satisfied by an outward observation 
 of it, but by the inward disposition of the heart : we 
 break it as much by a bai'e outwai'd keeping of it 
 only, as by hving in an avowed neglect of it. Per- 
 haj)s the best of men may find, upon consideration, 
 that they never performed one act of true and pure 
 obedience in all their Hves. What con\-iction is 
 here ! and what a terrible blow is this to our pride ! 
 
 Humility is a true sense of our state, and must 
 
14.5 
 
 necessarily go before a cure ; but then, where is the 
 virtue or merit of it ? A man full of noisome, stink- 
 ing sores, would be a madman if he did not look out 
 for a remedy, whenever he came to be sensible of his 
 condition, but more so if he took any merit to him- 
 self for knowing that he was thus diseased. 
 
 When once we can bear to know the truth of 
 ourselves, we shall be little concerned who else 
 knows it. 
 
 It is the vainest of all vanities, and pride in per- 
 fection, to pretend to separate ourselves from the 
 world outwardly, before we are separated from it in- 
 wardly. 
 
 Corruption is strong, evil predominant, my state 
 is wavering, my soul in danger; Christ does not 
 reign ; I am in the gall of bitterness and the bond of 
 iniquity, till I fully resolve not to sin. 
 
 No man has the least glimpse of the inside of 
 truth, till all conceit of merit and self-power is anni- 
 hilated, and he is pierced through and through with 
 a sense of his vileness and unworthiness. 
 
 How happy are we when we can say truly, " Lord, 
 thou knowest all my desire ;" and much more, when 
 we can sigh and groan, mourn and weep, before God ! 
 
 As God looks principally at the heart, so it is there 
 he carries on his sa\ing work. 
 
 We may polish our outward man, but what shall 
 we do by it, but to get the name of whited sepulchres? 
 
 Must I always be humbling myself, and going over 
 the same track of repentance? Yes, till I have no 
 sin, and to the end that the same thoughts and words 
 may take fast hold of me, and become a habit by re- 
 petition. 
 
 G 7 
 
146 
 
 I should consider the Ethiopian's skin and the 
 leopard's spots more than I do, that I may pray more 
 feelingly, and cast myself wholly upon divine power. 
 Is there any such thing as regeneration, or a 
 change of nature, from sensuaHty to purity of heart, 
 from flesh to spirit, from sin to hoHness, from the 
 world to God ? So the Scripture says, and that no- 
 thing less is heing Christian. 
 
 I endeavour to take a measure of sin, that I may 
 know my obligations to Christ, and the necessity of 
 his death ; for sin helps me to take a measure of it. 
 I hardly know which is first in the order of thinking, 
 but all is well when they act reciprocally upon each 
 other. 
 
 It is the Spirit's office to convince of sin, because 
 he only has the power : nothing that others can say, 
 or I can think, will bring me to a true sense and 
 feeling of it without him. 
 
 Till we know sin, and feel the burden of it in 
 some degree, we shall be blind to every thing else in 
 Scripture, whether of nature or grace ; we shall pray 
 with great reserve, and never mean half of what we 
 say. 
 
 Rather than be ignorant of my sin, Lord, speak 
 to me in pain, sickness, loss of earthly comforts, or 
 any affliction thou choosest. 
 
 I am all astonishment when I think of the number 
 and greatness of my sins, and how long my life has 
 been spared that I might repent. 
 
 There may be an abicUng consciousness of sin, 
 with self-condemnation, where there is not the least 
 degree of self-indignation, or self-abhorrence. Hu- 
 mility is knowing that we are not humble. 
 
147 
 
 There is a vast difFerence between knowing and 
 feeling sin, and spiritual things. We may know of 
 ourselves, or, by teaching, may be well principled, 
 and abound in notions ; but it is the Spirit only that 
 makes us feel. 
 
 If we would put doing in the place of thinking, 
 knowing, and wishing, we should understand the 
 meaning of Rom. vii. and be convinced of the want 
 of a better righteousness than our own. 
 
 Pride is seeing the defects of others, and over- 
 looking our own. Humility is seeing, feehng, and 
 lamenting sin in ourselves ; not only past, but pre- 
 sent sin ; not only actual sin, but the root of it in an 
 evil nature ; and all sin without disguise or extenua- 
 tion, in all its guUt and mahgnity. 
 
 No man is humbled or sincere with God, till he is 
 willing to know the worst of himself. 
 
 The Spirit's coming into the heart, is the touch 
 of Ithuriel's spear, and it starts up a devil. 
 
 If I see myself bad enough for Christ, he sees me 
 good enough. 
 
 If my nature, heart, will, and affections, must be 
 changed, God must do it ; for I can no more change 
 them than I could make myself. God commands to 
 strike at the root of sin ; Christ puts the axe, sharp- 
 ened with his blood, into the hands of all who are 
 willing, and the Spirit gives strength to the blow. 
 
 Angels fell from a state of distinguished excel- 
 lence, and man rises into their place through vileness 
 and emptiness. O the depth ! 
 
 God never makes any man what he should be, 
 without first making him know what he is. O God, 
 take the veil from my heart : take the world, take 
 g2 
 
148 
 
 pride, take self out of my heart, and write there all 
 thy laws, I beseech thee. 
 
 It is a hard thing, and a sore conflict, to renounce 
 all sin, as sin, fully, finally, irrevocably ; and proba- 
 bly many of those who think they do, never tried it, 
 and are hidden from themselves. 
 
 Whenever I sin, in thought, word, or deed, or 
 whatever sin I commit, the penalty of death is in- 
 curred, the thing is done and past, and all the world 
 cannot reverse the sentence. The right spiritual 
 understanding and conviction of this is the beginning 
 of faith, and throws us upon Christ. 
 
 Legal repentance is before the cross of Christ, 
 and brings us up to it ; evangelical is after, and be- 
 gins from it. The latter only is genuine, effectual, 
 and lasting. 
 
 Is the evil I feel in myself painful, and a burden 
 to nature as sin ? Or could I be content, and per- 
 haps better pleased with it, if I were sure God would 
 never lay it to my charge? 
 
 I had rather know a work of the Spirit in mourn- 
 ing for sin, as displeasing to God, in love to Christ, 
 and because it pierced him, than be at the top of 
 worldly joy. 
 
 There is no possibility of enjoyment but in follow- 
 ing the natural bent ; for which reason virtue, to be 
 happiness, must not only be from principle, and as it 
 were forced upon us by teaching, but the genuine 
 result and feeling of a nature. And how can that 
 be but by a new birth ? 
 
 Whenever I know but the tenth part of my sin, 
 I shall know that I am not beholden to Christ for 
 nothing. 
 
149 
 
 If God did not lay the burden of sin upon us, no 
 man would lay it upon himself. How few ever feel 
 it! 
 
 Repentance is forsaking sin for God, for his fa- 
 vour, his blessing, and will. 
 
 I believe it will be found that the repentance of 
 most men is not so much sorrow for sin, as sin, or 
 real hatred of it, as sullen sorrow that they are not 
 allowed to sin. 
 
 It is fatal trifling with our souls, and horrid delu- 
 sion, to see sin less, or condemn it less in ourselves 
 than we do in others ; but who can deal freely with 
 himself in this point without conviction from the 
 Spirit of God ? 
 
 I have no proper idea of the horrible, cursed na- 
 ture of sin, as represented in the cross of Christ ; but 
 if it is so seen as to be avoided, it is enoucrh. 
 
 Seeing and condemning sin in ourselves as we do 
 in others, without showing it mercy, is repentance ; 
 and then, who almost repents ? 
 
 Every sin, when newly committed, amazes and ter- 
 rifies the soul, though the sense of it soon wears off. 
 How shall we be able to bear the anguish of all our 
 sins together, when conscience, which forgets and 
 extenuates none, brings them to our remembrance ! 
 
 We may be fully convinced, that spiritual things 
 are incomparably the most worthy of our esteem, 
 without giving them the preference in our affections. 
 The former is a degree of illumination, the latter 
 only is conversion. 
 
 A work of grace is carried on in the way of our 
 own thoughts, and with the consent of the wiU ; but 
 this concurrence does not effect the work, and is no 
 
150 
 
 more a proof of self-power, than the earth's fertility, 
 which is wholly owing to a blessing from tlie clouds. 
 
 The moment we sin, there is an absolute forfeiture 
 of life incurred ; nothing but mercy can now relieve 
 us, and we must always see ourselves in the light of 
 condemned malefactors; for no future amendment 
 can undo what is past. 
 
 Till we see sin, we can never see it taken away; 
 but merely seeing and feeling the plague of sin is 
 not repenting of it : it is seen and felt in hell. 
 
 No man ever turns to God for help, believes in 
 Christ, or prays for the Spirit, till he is frightened 
 at himself; and we need not know the worst of our- 
 selves to be heartily frightened. 
 
 One sin, fully known, and pressing home upon the 
 conscience in all its guilt and malignity, leads to the 
 discovery of more, for there is a fatal connection. 
 
 There may be a consciousness and conviction of 
 sin without hatred of it, real humility, self-abhorrence, 
 or the extinction of one spark of pride. 
 
 Finding that I am destitute of Christian graces 
 and holy tempers, the question is, how I must get 
 myself possessed of them. And I am convinced at 
 once, I can no more introduce a new set of affections 
 into my nature, than I could make myself at the first. 
 If the Scripture had not told us that this change can 
 be effected by nothing less than a divine power, the 
 thing speaks for itself. Show me a man of whom it 
 can be truly said, that he loves what he hated, and 
 hates what he loved, and I will pronounce him to be 
 God's workmanship. 
 
 I see less malignity in sin, and can more easily 
 forgive it, because I consider it, not chiefly as sin 
 
151 
 
 acrainst God, but against myself, my own ease, repu- 
 tation, and interest : in this point, and a leading one 
 it is, scriptural knowledge differs totally from naturtd. 
 The repentance which brings us to Christ is toward 
 God. 
 
 Lopping off the branches of sin, is labour in vain, 
 and always to be renewed ; there is no way but lay- 
 ing the axe to the root. 
 
 Sin should sit heavier on the soul, and cut deeper 
 into the heart, than the loss of a first-born. Blessed 
 are they that mourn : and who has not cause for it ? 
 
 Till a man feels sin as poison in his blood, and 
 finds that he cannot get rid of it in this world, he 
 will never think in good earnest of another. 
 
 No man has any warrant from Scripture to believe 
 that his sins are forgiven, unless he repents of them ; 
 that is, is heartily sorry for them, and earnestly de- 
 sires to be delivered from the power of evil habits, 
 and an evil nature. 
 
 It cannot be expected that any man, not a gross 
 sinner, should repent; that is, charge himself mth 
 guilt and foUy, and desire a change of his state, till 
 he is convinced of the universal, total depravity of 
 human nature. If he is persuaded that there is any 
 excellence, dignity, rectitude, or good belonging to 
 the species, he will compliment himself with it all. 
 
 It is impossible for any man to know Christ to be 
 a Saviour, till he knows himself to be a sinner. 
 
 Man is never in God's way in spirituals, till he 
 quits himself and his own way. And this I take to 
 be the most natural meaning of the words, " Except 
 ye be converted, and become as little children," who 
 are confessedly helpless, incapable of acting for, and 
 
152 
 
 governing themselves, " ye cannot enter into the 
 kingdom of heaven." 
 
 It would be thought monstrous arrogance, blas- 
 phemy, and invasion of God's prerogative, for any 
 one to pretend to make the soul and body of a man. 
 And yetj perhaps, it is no less presumption to pre- 
 tend to any share in the creation of the spiritual man 
 in Christ. How is it possible I should form the 
 image of God in myself, when I do not know what 
 it is, nor ever shall, till it is actually produced in me ? 
 It is well for us that the want of such a previous idea 
 is no hinderance to our reception of it ; and for this 
 we have St. Paul's word, who says, " that what God 
 worketh in us is exceeding abundantly above all that 
 we can ask or think." This deserves to be consi- 
 dered by the narrowers in all sects and parties. 
 
 Justification by faith can never be received, de- 
 sired, sought after, or even understood, till the soul 
 has been well disciplined and broken under the pres- 
 sure of the law, and brought to a fuU sight and ex- 
 perience of its inability to answer the demands of it. 
 And our acceptance of the free grace of God in 
 Christ will always necessarily be more or less sincere, 
 more or less fruitful in good works, in proportion to 
 our sense of the want of it. 
 
 Those who have felt the misery of an evil con- 
 science, and lain groaning with anguish of spirit un- 
 der a heavy sense of God's wrath, are comparatively 
 in little danger of returning to such a state, after they 
 have been once delivered from it. 
 
 I cannot get within myself, and yet all depends 
 upon it. It is not enough to know that God sees me, 
 unless I see myself in my own frightful nakedness. 
 
153 
 
 There is nothing like being pinched, and sore 
 galled with a sense of guilt. Redemption by Christ 
 will then be viewed in its proper point of light ; the 
 glad tidings of the gospel eagerly embraced by the 
 disconsolate fainting soul. It is impossible for those 
 who never felt the trouble and uneasiness of a wounded 
 conscience, to desire, or believe, or value the peace 
 of God. It is by a miracle that any man repents. 
 Many see the folly of their conduct, and are sorry 
 for the inconveniences they have brought upon them- 
 selves and others by it ; but to be convinced of guilt 
 before God, to have a sight and sense of our vileness, 
 and a hearty detestation of ourselves for it, is what 
 I believe never happens but under the working and 
 influence of God's Spirit. 
 
 God will have his grace acknowledged in the free 
 pardon of our sins. But this can never be till we 
 feel and know in good earnest that we are sinners. 
 God brings us under the bond of the law, that his 
 mercy may be magnified in releasing us from the 
 terror, curse, and punishment of it. The end of this 
 procedure is to show man his obligation to the per- 
 formance of law, his demerit in the breach of it, and 
 God's love in our forgiveness. And, in our present 
 circumstances, there is no other method of introduc- 
 ing into the soul a sincere love of God; for naturally 
 we do not love him. 
 
 When God calls to us in our hiding-place, and 
 says, " Where art thou?" the stoutest heart will be 
 afraid, notwithstanding its covering of fig-leaves. 
 
 The knowledge of ourselves, and of our sinful 
 condition by the faU, is one main point in religion ; 
 g3 
 
154 
 
 but then it is often a long time before we are enough 
 pinched with the sense of it, to pray in good earnest. 
 
 When we find out our sin in one instance, it 
 should convince us of the guilt of more yet undis- 
 covered, and lead us to the accursed root of all. 
 
 All is delusion and sad mistake, till we know 
 Christ inwardly and experimentally by the Spirit, as 
 applying his whole salvation and every part of it to 
 the soul. 1st, In his sore judgments ; convincing us 
 of the greatness and damnableness of sin, and of our 
 own sin in particular. 2d, In his comforts ; raising 
 us to a clear sense of, and cheerful confidence in 
 God, as a reconciled Father. 3d, In his cleansing 
 operations ; turning the strong man out of possession, 
 and enabling us to say triumphantly, " Behold, all 
 thino;s are become new." The ffreat dano;er of mis- 
 carrying in this work, is by passing too cursorily over 
 the first step, healing our wounds slightly, and justi- 
 fying ourselves too hastily. 
 
 We are never so near heaven as when we find 
 ourselves almost in hell. We cannot stay long there. 
 
 It is impossible we should ever be upon a footing 
 of truth and sincerity with others, till we know how 
 to speak the truth to ourselves. 
 
155 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 Christ comes with a blessing in each hand ; for- 
 giveness in one, and holiness in the other, and never 
 gives either to any who will not take both. 
 
 Christ's forgiveness of all sins is complete at once, 
 because less would not do us good ; his holiness is 
 dispensed by degrees, and to none wholly in this life, 
 lest we should sHght his forgiveness. 
 
 I owe it to Jesus that I have a moment's quiet. 
 
 The love of God springs from the knowledge of 
 Christ, and seems impossible to man in any other 
 
 way. "(W tjrjC: i ^^v^A-r^. 
 
 I owe Christ a heart, a will, a life. 
 
 The Lord's Christ is the soul's joy, support, and 
 confidence, in all states and conditions ; riches in po- 
 verty, comfort in trouble, ease in pain, health in sick- 
 ness, life in death. 
 
 I see the glory and blessedness of God in giving 
 his Son to die for such sinners as I am, and would 
 give the world to have a lively gratitude and burning 
 love to him in my heart ; but can have no peace but 
 in thinking he died for my ingratitude. 
 
 Christ's riches, as in hunself, are unsearchable; in 
 us they are soon told. 
 
 The salvation of man is as much the gift of God, 
 and the work of Christ, as his life and being. 
 
 Christ never comes into the soul unattended ; he 
 brings the Holy Spirit with him, and the Spirit his 
 
156 
 
 train of gifts and graces. Lay the foundation in him, 
 and leave it to him to raise God's building upon it. 
 
 Christ obeyed and suffered for me, that his obe- 
 dience and sufferings might be imputed to me ; and 
 because no obedience or sufferings of mine could an- 
 swer the demands of divine justice, or be effectual to 
 my purification. A maintainer of this opinion, at 
 the same time affirms it is no argument for the pre- 
 sumption, impenitence, or lukewarmness of man ; but 
 an operative, and most efficacious principle of obe- 
 dience, and a sacred bond of gratitude upon his soul, 
 to do and suffer in his turn, according to the measure 
 and capacity of a creature, and to press to every 
 height of virtue, after the example of so kind a con- 
 ductor, in obedience to the commands of so gracious 
 a Master, in confidence of the assistance of so power- 
 ful a Saviour, who died for him upon earth, inter- 
 cedes for, and succours him from heaven, and hath 
 taken him into himself by a mysterious union, that 
 he might accept him to the reward of his own spot- 
 less holiness. 
 
 It has been the general opinion of Christians, in 
 all times and places, that Christ suffered instead of 
 sinners, and that we have remission of sins through 
 faith in his blood-shedding: but the opinion of an 
 imputed righteousness is far from being general; 
 though a substitution is every whit as intelligible, and 
 perhaps as much wanted in one case as the other; and 
 the same reasons that hold for rejecting one, will 
 equally hold for the rejecting of both. 
 
 The righteousness of Christ is never imputed to 
 any man who does not desire and endeavour to be 
 so completely righteous as not to stand in need of it. 
 
157 
 
 Let him who rejects the righteousness of Christ, 
 consider well what ground he stands upon, and what 
 he has to trust to. 
 
 The righteousness of Christ imputed, and applied 
 by faith, becomes such a reality as is not at all for an 
 impenitent sinner's purpose. If he knows what it is, 
 and for vvhat end it is given, he does not desire it: 
 nor do I think it possible for an impenitent person 
 to believe it, let him pretend what he will. Christ is 
 the glass in which we see God and ourselves ; and if 
 we attempt to see either ourselves or him throuo-h 
 any other medium, we shall fall into infinite mistakes. 
 
 Christ still manifests his Messiahship by his pre- 
 sence, and says to the desiring soul, as he did to the 
 woman of Samaria, " I that speak unto thee am he." 
 
 To comprehend the breadth and length, and depth 
 and height of the love of Christ, we must first take 
 the dimensions of our own sin. 
 
 I know so much of Christ as not to be afraid to 
 look my sins in the face. 
 
 Christ was Christ to a beUeving Jew before his 
 coming, as well as now to a Christian ; nay, the faith 
 of the Jew seems to have been of a more excellent 
 kind, as it had a thicker veil to penetrate through. 
 
 Christ says, " Take up the cross;" and very evi- 
 dent it is, that some of his commands, literally taken, 
 have the cross in them. Take this out, and then 
 wherein does he differ from other legislators ? Or 
 what remains but a bare religion of nature, which, we 
 may be sure, will never bear too hard upon flesh and 
 blood? 
 
 All the power and love of God is in the man 
 Christ. 
 
158 
 
 Christ is God, stooping to the senses, and speak- 
 ing to the heart of man. 
 
 Christ brings down God to the capacity of man, 
 and raises man to the nature of God. 
 
 Christ stands between the wrath of God and the 
 sin of man, intercepting the one, and purging tlie 
 other. 
 
 Nothing in nature is Hfe, hght, and truth, but 
 Christ ; and therefore, nothing else can be so to the 
 soul. 
 
 Christ saw and felt every sin of mine distinctly, 
 ^yhen he sweat great drops of blood in the garden, 
 and cried out upon the cross, " My God, my God, 
 why hast thou forsaken me ?'* 
 
 God will come near to us to judgment, and be a 
 swift witness against us, whenever we dare present 
 ourselves at his bar in our own name. 
 
 Christ had most amazing love, and a piercing sight 
 of the danger and misery of mankind, w^hen the pain 
 of the cross could not hinder him from saying, " Fa- 
 ther, forgive them." A lively apprehension in us of 
 what he then saw and knew, sets us at work in good 
 earnest for ourselves and others. 
 
 I want the outward sun to cherish my body, and 
 invigorate the animal life ; much more the warmth, 
 light, and healing rays of the Sun of Righteousness, 
 to comfort my soul. 
 
 When we had lost all by one father, God gave us 
 another to recover it to us with advantage ; and our 
 life is now safe in Christ's keeping. 
 
 We come from God through the loins of the first 
 Adam, and return to him through the bowels of the 
 second. 
 
159 
 
 Christ can be nothing but himself in every soul 
 where he comes, loving his own life, doing his own 
 works, rejecting all sin, and seeking only to please 
 God. 
 
 It must be so for Christ's sake : there must be a 
 sincere renunciation of all sin, for his love who died 
 for me, and because 1 hope to see his face in heaven 
 to whom I have so great obligations. 
 
 Christ's peace is his peace altogether, dearly pvir- 
 chased by him, and given to sinners standing in need of 
 it. If it is to be of my own procuring, and I can have 
 none but by entire freedom from sin, I am undone. 
 
 I owe Christ ten thousand thousand times more 
 than I can pay ; and all he requires of me is to accept 
 a discharge, and settle my love upon him, not as any 
 part of payment, but because he knows I cannot 
 otherwise be happy. 
 
 If ever we get to heaven, we shall know that we 
 do not sing praises to the Lamb for nothing, — 
 " Who has aboHshed death," and damnation, by his 
 death and resurrection, and " brought life and im- 
 mortahty to light by the gospel;" revealing, offering, 
 and conveying it to all that believe and accept it as 
 God's gift, live for it, and rejoice in it as their por- 
 tion and inheritance from the Lord. 
 
 Christ, by taking our sin upon himself, took it 
 clean away from us ; banished it out of the creation, 
 and eternally annihilated it to every behever, who is 
 as far from the charge of it before God, as if there 
 never had been any such thing in the world ; and if 
 he did not do this for us, he did nothing; if we have 
 one sin remaining that he did not expiate, we are 
 still under a sentence of death. 
 
160 
 
 Tlie two main pillars of Christ*s religion are, the 
 depth of sin, and the height of righteousness ; and 
 none but he could atone for the one, and perform 
 the other. 
 
 A thousand saints, with all their fortitude, patience, 
 and united efforts, could not bear the burden of one 
 sin. What then did Christ endure when all the 
 sins of the world were laid upon him ! 
 
 " Herein is love," — superlative, inconceivable, in- 
 finite ; — " that he sent his Son to be the propitiation 
 for our sins," — without exception of any sins or sin- 
 ners. Why do I not steadily beheve it? Why do 
 I harbour a doubt of it? Why do I ever forget it? 
 Why am I not always rejoicing in the happy assu- 
 rance of it? 
 
 Some look unto Christ with godly sorrow, grati- 
 tude, love, and a purpose of obedience ; some with 
 horrid presumption, and the deceitfulness of a des- 
 perately wicked heart, to make him a cover for carnal 
 indulgence; the generality, with great coldness and 
 indifference. 
 
 Christ says to man, " live," not for any good he 
 sees in any man; but when he is, and because he is, 
 lying in his blood. He can enlighten the dark heart; 
 he can purge the defiled heart; he can bend the 
 stubborn heart ; he can fix the inconstant heart ; he 
 can quicken the dead heart ; he can spirituaHze the 
 earthly heart; he can universalize the selfish heart; he 
 can comfort the sorrowful heart ; all cold and icy as 
 it is, he can make it a heart of pure love ; he can be 
 himself in the heart. Blessed be his name ! 
 
 O Jesus ! my Lord and my God ! my Saviour by 
 thyself, from myself ! how wonderful art thou ! — 
 
161 
 
 What should I do but for Christ ? Another ques- 
 tion completes the character of the Christian, What 
 shall I do for Christ ? 
 
 God testifies to me, to my soul, that Christ has 
 risen from the dead, and I with him, by an indisput- 
 able a])iding matter of fact, namely, his sending the 
 Holy Ghost into my heart. 
 
 Christ in me will be the same^ God-devoted, sin- 
 hating, soul-loving, self-denying, suffering, labouring 
 Christ, that he is in himself. 
 
 Nothing but the blood of Christ can wash out the 
 foul stains of my life ; and that will do it. As sure 
 as sin is death, Christ is life. 
 
 W^ithout Christ we should never have known what 
 sin is: without the knowledge of sin we should never 
 have known what Christ is. O my soul, magnify 
 the Lord, and rejoice in God thy Saviour ! 
 
16^ 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FAITH. 
 
 Faith does not consist in thinking that my sins 
 are comparatively little, and therefore may he for- 
 given ; but in knowing that they are very great, and 
 believing that, though they are ever so many and 
 great, past or present, Christ's blood is above them 
 all. 
 
 Nothing but Christ's blood, taking away, and as 
 it were annihilating sin, can quiet an awakened con- 
 science. Repentance implies an abiding self-disHke 
 and self-abhorrence, and can neither destroy the ex- 
 istence, nor extinguish the remembrance, nor heal 
 the smart of past sin ; the torment of it can never die 
 but with a conviction that Christ took it all upon 
 himself. 
 
 My sins are many and great, and continually rising 
 up against me; but I must not, I must not make God 
 a liar, deny my Saviour, and grieve the Spirit by re- 
 fusing his comfort. I may have more joy of Christ 
 than I could have had of innocence or any sanctity of 
 my own. O Adam, what hast thou done ! O Jesus, 
 what hast thou not done ! 
 
 The man who has no doubts and fears, has no 
 faith. 
 
 Perfect obedience being impossible, it is necessary 
 that all should have some reserve at hand in the want 
 of it; something to support their hope, and give peace 
 to their consciences ; sincerity or Christ. But the 
 
163 
 
 former can no more be pleaded than perfect obe- 
 dience ; and if faith on Christ, suffering in our stead 
 what we should have suffered, and doing for us what 
 we cannot do, is not our appointed relief, the case of 
 mankind is desperate. 
 
 If Christ will take my sins, I may well give him 
 every thing else. 
 
 " Fides Christum mihi donat, charitas ex fide me 
 proximo." — Luther. That is, Faith gives me 
 Christ, and love from faith gives me to my neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 God grants me forgiveness, not because I have so 
 much repentance, or so much obedience to bring him 
 as the price of it ; but of his free goodness, because 
 I want it, and must be undone without it ; and be- 
 cause he knows, whether I do or not, that I have 
 only one thmg to say to him, " God be merciful to 
 me a sinner !" 
 
 The Scripture bids us do every thing, and at the 
 same time tells us that we can do nothing ; the con- 
 clusion is, that what is commanded must be done, and 
 cannot be done without help. 
 
 Christ crucified for our sins, is the chief thing in 
 our religion we should know, and almost the only 
 thing which the generahty of the Church of England 
 do not know. 
 
 Christ came into the world to take away my sin, 
 by taking it upon himself; and if I go to him with 
 it, my comfort is that it cannot be too great for him. 
 
 The experience and possession of divine pity, is 
 better than bodily ease, freedom from trouble, or the 
 greatest worldly prosperity. 
 
 What has not God given me, in giving me a will 
 
164 
 
 to pray ! All the rest is his work ; and I am as sure, 
 as his word and promise can make me, that not one 
 prayer will be lost. 
 
 I shall obey when I have the will, and none can 
 set it free but God : it is the mountain which faith 
 has to remove. Thinking we have most power where 
 we have the least, is the great error of the world, and 
 has been mine all my life. 
 
 What a mercy, above all miracles, that I, who am 
 a sinner, a three-score years' old rebel, and have done 
 that every day of my life which lost Adam his para- 
 dise, and brought death into the world, should have 
 my abode on earth prolonged ; that if it be possible I 
 may not come short of my birth-right ; that I may 
 leave off sinning, and say before I die, " Lo, I come 
 to do thy will !" 
 
 When I think what the devil can do in conjunc- 
 tion with my nature, what I have been, am, and shall 
 be, it is transporting news to be told that there is 
 such a thing as believing unto righteousness, and that 
 salvation is wholly in and by a substitute. This is 
 a hard point ; and yet, if God is always the same, 
 there can be no other possible hope for a creature 
 always sinful. 
 
 I am as sure, on the word and promise of God, 
 that my sins are done away in Christ, as if an angel 
 were to bring me a release in writing, or I was now 
 in heaven out of all danger. Shall I not be at God's 
 bidding for this, and put myself into his hands for 
 the further mercies of gratitude, love, obedience, a 
 willing heart, and heavenly affections ? 
 
 The angels do not work for life or reward, because 
 they are already possessed of it, penetrated witli a 
 
165 
 
 lively sense of God's love to them in their happiness, 
 and therefore all on fire to do his will: so should we, 
 if we would but enter more into the knowledge and 
 present possession of our happiness, by faith in 
 Christ. 
 
 From the depth of my sin, and most astonishing 
 evil, I raise some faint conception of God's love in 
 Christ. Well might he say, " My thoughts are not 
 as your thoughts," &c. Isa. Iv. 8. 
 
 Christ came to teach a pure moraHty, and assert 
 the necessity of a perfect law-keeping, but does not 
 expect to find it in us ; he therefore wrought it for 
 us. 
 
 No security till Christ puts his wedding-ring upon 
 my heart. 
 
 Power to conform the understanding, will, and 
 heart, to Scripture, is as much a gift from heaven as 
 Scripture itself. 
 
 By poring continually upon my sins, and setting 
 them as it were in battle array against the blood of 
 Christ, I hold off my remedy, make little account of 
 the Word of God, and must thank myself if I never 
 know peace. 
 
 In another man's case, I should certainly think 
 one drop of the blood of Christ sufficient for all his 
 sins, though ever so many and great. In my own, 
 I cannot think so for my life, with any degree of 
 steadfastness. 
 
 What I speak, think, invent, write, as of myself, 
 puffs me up with conceit, and is a sweet morsel for 
 pride. Thinking it to be from God would humble 
 me, as every thing does which we know to be purely 
 a gift, let it come from whom it wiU. 
 
166 
 
 No music like Aaron's bells. Mercy and propi- 
 tiation through our great High Priest, sound sweetly 
 to the purged ear. 
 
 At home with God ; satisfied and rejoicing only in 
 the sense of his favour ; in my heart's choice of him; 
 in the privilege of presenting myself before him in 
 faith, and longing for his promises. 
 
 The man who comes to Christ, without any desire 
 or expectation of being created in him unto good 
 works, and having his nature renewed in holiness, is 
 a fool or an infidel. He neither knows nor believes 
 one tittle of the gospel. 
 
 We need not be afraid to look upon our own de- 
 formity, great and ugly as it is. Christ died for the 
 sins of the whole world; and therefore, if I had all 
 the sins of the whole world in my own person, I 
 would not doubt of forgiveness. 
 
 The remission of sins, apprehended by faith, is the 
 dissolution or ending of Satan's kingdom in us, and 
 the beginning, foundation, and principle of a new na- 
 ture, state, and life in God through Christ. 
 
 I cannot give myself to Christ, he must give him- 
 self to me. 
 
 God does not offer me health, long life, plenty of 
 worldly accommodations, respect, distinction, princi- 
 palities, universal empire ; but, O unutterable grace ! 
 — himself. The greatness of the thing, so infinitely 
 transcending all that we can deserve, hope for, or con- 
 ceive, overwhelms the understanding, and is apt to 
 stifle our belief of it. 
 
 Let God work ; my own efforts, by being trusted 
 in, having a tendency to exclude him, and hmder his 
 progress. 
 
167 
 
 The Scripture speaks in vain, if God does not 
 speak it again in the heart. Knowing is not wilUng, 
 though it is generally mistaken for it. 
 
 To have God hold the great burning-glass in his 
 hand, to bring all my sins to a point, how dreadful ! 
 and what a glory is then to be seen in Christ ! 
 
 If I had not sinned as I have, I should never have 
 prayed as I do. 
 
 My work is my pleasure, and joyous happy state. 
 I find in it all I want; and do not stretch my thoughts 
 beyond it for more satisfaction from any thing else. 
 
 Make no more resolutions to do what you never 
 will ; but know your weakness, trust and pray. 
 
 Unbelief, or doubting of the power and will of 
 God to convert others, though ever so illiterate or 
 obstinate, self-righteous or wicked, is the same want 
 of faith as it would be in my own case. The ob- 
 stacles may, or may not be greater, but nothing is 
 too hard for God. If we cannot help ourselves to 
 the graces we want, let us not pretend to it, nor 
 make vain efforts in our own strength, but wait pa- 
 tiently upon God, and be as clay in the hands of the 
 potter. 
 
 Nothing greater can be said of faith, than that it 
 is the only thing which can bid defiance to the ac- 
 cusations of conscience. 
 
 Faith supposes that there is sin in every one to 
 be forgiven, and that God is glorified by the forgive- 
 ness of it. Deny either, and you lose Christ. 
 
 Faith can do more than remove mountains ; it can 
 still a clamorous conscience, make a bad conscience 
 good, soften a hard heart, bend a stubborn will, and 
 bring God and man together. 
 
168 
 
 If sin was ten thousand times worse than it is, and 
 I had ten thousand times more sins than I have, I 
 would look beyond them all to Christ. 
 
 The Christian is happy in Christ's forgiveness, 
 Christ's righteousness, and Christ's beatitudes ; but 
 chiefly so in the two first, and only unhappy because 
 he is imperfect in the last. 
 
 In Christ we are as innocent, and clear of all 
 blame before God, as Adam was at his creation. 
 This is the great mystery, great truth, and great 
 comfort of the gospel ; and if it is not true, all Scrip- 
 ture is false, or comparatively little worth. 
 
 My sins and wants threw me upon Christ when I 
 knew much less of him, and of my need of him, than 
 I do now. 
 
 I beheve for the remission of sins, I believe for 
 Christ's righteousness, I believe for power to love 
 God and man, I believe for belief; and, God knows, 
 I had rather be a believer than a king. 
 
 Christ must have died for me, if there had not been 
 another man in the world ; and I believe as much that 
 he died for me, as if there never had been another. 
 
 Christ says, " Wilt thou be made whole ?" giving 
 me to understand that he must do it ; and therefore 
 I will never attempt to make myself whole. I would 
 do something for Christ, but I can do nothing for 
 myself; and he, knowing this, did all for me. 
 
 I have been many years endeavouring to come to 
 peace by a conquest of sin, instead of going first to 
 Christ for the pardon of it. 
 
 Christ's peace is not freedom from sin, but the 
 forgiveness of it ; and it cannot consist with the love 
 of sin. 
 
169 
 
 If one man had all the graces and good actions 
 that ever were in the world to plead for himself, they 
 would not justify him to God ; and if all the sins of 
 all the world were to meet in the person of one man, 
 the blood of Christ would infinitely outweigh them. 
 
 If it was not for Christ, conscience would tear me 
 in pieces. Conscience is the most positive, teasing, 
 tormenting thing in the world; and nothing can 
 silence it but* faith. Conscience is the viper on 
 Paul's hand ; and its nature is to sting, inflame, and 
 kill. Why then do not I swell, or fall down dead ? 
 I know. 
 
 I know my sins are a vast heap, and more in num- 
 ber than the hairs of my head, but I will think no 
 more of them (save to deny and try myself) for the 
 remainder of my life. I will look only unto Jesus ; 
 and if a better obedience does not spring from this 
 faith and looking, I shall for ever despair of attaining 
 to it: 2 Cor. iii. 18. 
 
 It is unbelief altogether, and absolute denial of 
 the work, satisfaction, and merits of Christ, to think 
 that I have one sin about me unforgiven, or belong- 
 ing to me. 
 
 o 
 
 Thank God for Christ, Christ for a clean con- 
 science, and the Spirit for giving me a sight of it as 
 clean. 
 
 Believe that you are a sinner under condemnation, 
 and that Christ released you from it by his death, 
 and then deny him any thing if you can. 
 
 As bad as I am, I should be worse, if it was not 
 for my belief of the cross. 
 
 If I had not God in Christ to think of and speak 
 to, to make me wiser, and better, and happier than 
 H 7 
 
170 
 
 I am, and to go to when I die, I should think myself 
 undone. 
 
 I find it difficult to believe that God can forgive 
 me, because I cannot forgive myself. There is great 
 comfort in Isaiah Iv. 7, 8. " Let the wicked forsake 
 his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts ; and 
 let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy 
 upon him, and to our God, for he will abundantly 
 pardon ; for my thoughts are not your thoughts, nei- 
 ther are your ways my ways, saith the Lord." 
 
 God does not expect to be loved and praised by 
 us but for his benefits, as proofs and tokens of the 
 riches of his nature : and, as weak, dependent crea- 
 tures, we must look up to him for the communications 
 of his goodness, and think ourselves more happy in 
 receiving from him what we want, than if we could 
 give it to ourselves. 
 
 He who, with a consciousness and acknowledg- 
 ment of great imperfection, trusts in the righteous- 
 ness of Christ, is a better Christian than a more per- 
 fect man who trusts in his own. 
 
 He who does not rejoice in the Lord, and feel 
 God's peace as a cordial at his heart, is a Christian 
 of a low form, and hardly a believer. Why are we 
 so often lumpish, heavy, and almost at our wit's end, 
 but because we look for comfort in ourselves more 
 than in Christ, and do not charge it enough upon 
 our souls to rejoice purely, simply, and only in him? 
 
 When we have received nothing from God, we 
 think we have enough of our own, and are sufficiently 
 proud of it ; what we receive from him, in answer to 
 prayer, under a sense of our poverty, is all placed to 
 the account of grace, and humbles us in the dust. 
 
171 
 
 Oct. 4j 1771. I had a most lively sense in a dream, 
 of a full dependence upon God for help in time of 
 distress, far beyond any thing I ever conceived, or 
 can retain when I am awake. 
 
 Look forward to increasing weakness; decay of 
 intellect, sense, and memory ; certain pain, sickness, 
 and death ; without a wish for past enjoyments, and 
 with a hope full of immortality. 
 
 The mercy of God is above all my sins and all my 
 fears ; and when I perceive it in my own mind and 
 conscience to be so, see the necessity of mercy, and 
 joyfully embrace the ofiPer of it, " the Spirit beareth 
 witness with my spirit;" and the witness is good 
 without and before w^orks, and faith perceives itself 
 by its own light. O Father, sweet is thy mercy ! 
 O Jesus, sweet is thy love ! sweet, O blessed Spirit, 
 is thy testimony to the soul ! 
 
 I see nothing but sin in myself; in God nothinjy 
 but mercy. 
 
 God put the yoke of the law upon the necks of 
 the Jews, the devil puts it on the necks of Christians. 
 
 I would not be without direction, restraint, and as- 
 sistance from God, if I might. Dependence on him 
 is my security, happiness, and great glory : he can do 
 all things well ; I am sure I cannot. And how will 
 my soul exult in his goodness, glow with gratitude, 
 bless and adhere to him, when I know I am not over- 
 looked, and that he has heard and helped me in the 
 very thing I asked of him ! I question whether any 
 man ever truly loves and praises God till he has been 
 so helped. 
 
 I will remember my sins, every one if possible, 
 h2 
 
172 
 
 with all their aggravations ; but, while there is a Bible 
 in the world, they shall not terrify me. 
 
 Christ took up all my sins, and bare them in his 
 own body on the cross ; and God cannot punish twice, 
 nor demand a second satisfaction to his justice. Take 
 this comfort from me, and you may take the Bible. 
 
 If the blood of Christ, as applied for remission, is 
 my remedy in case of sin, first and always, it is death 
 to make use of any other. 
 
 God never pardons one sin but he pardons all; 
 and we dishonour him more by not trusting in him 
 for complete forgiveness, than ever we did by sinning 
 against him. 
 
 When sin, past and present, appears in its true 
 shape, with ail its horrid malignity, and desert of 
 damnation, then is the time for a fuU sight of Christ. 
 And O how gloriously does " the Sun of Righteous- 
 ness arise," to the benighted, sin-burdened soul, 
 " with healing in his wings !" How sweet is mercy ! 
 how precious the name Jesus ! and how dear his 
 blood to the awakened guilty conscience ! Let it 
 ever be remembered how great the obligation ! 
 
 With one eye upon Christ, I can look my past 
 sins in the face with the other, and be upon my 
 guard against all sin for the time to come. Self, in 
 its very best state, is no ground of confidence towards 
 God, nor of despair in its worst. 
 
 It is the will of God, and weU-pleasing to God, 
 that I should rejoice continually before him in the 
 acceptance and possession of his grace in Christ, as 
 made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, 
 and redemption. 
 
 " Nothing can pacify an oflPended conscience, but 
 
173 
 
 that which satisfied an offended God," says Henry ; 
 and well may that which satisfieth an offended God, 
 pacify an offended conscience. 
 
 I, N. N. take thee, Jesus, to be my wedded hus- 
 band, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for 
 thy love, for thy crosses, for thy work, for thy com- 
 forts ; to love, honour, and obey, so long as I shall 
 live, assuredly believing that death will not part us. 
 Lord Jesus, say Amen. 
 
 What a fool am I, to be always laying the weight 
 o!* my salvation upon myself instead of Christ ! 
 
 I should be inexpressibly miserable, if I did not 
 know that God forgives me more easily than I can 
 myself. 
 
 I may still look at the brazen serpent, I may look 
 at Christ. 
 
 What hope could I have, if God does not forgive 
 what I am, as well as what I have been ? 
 
 Whenever I feel corruption stirring, and sincerely 
 lament it, but have not strength against it, then is 
 the time to fly to Christ, and rejoice in him; then 
 may I have enough to bless God for, and may well 
 bear with myself. 
 
 Remembrance of sin, and sense of redeeming 
 mercy, will be the ground of praise and thanksgiving 
 to God and the Lamb for ever in heaven. Why 
 should it not be so now, seeing I have as good war- 
 rant from the word of God to believe that my sin is 
 wholly taken away, as if I was actually in heaven ? 
 
 We are apt, foolishly and impiously, to harden 
 ourselves against the comfort of Scripture, by poring 
 continually upon our sins. Why, man, it is as true 
 that Christ died for sin, as that the wages of sin is 
 
174 
 
 death, and full as dangerous to disbelieve one as the 
 other. 
 
 Those who will not believe the remission of sins 
 on the warrant of Scripture, till it is inwardly spoken, 
 or confirmed to them by a personal grant, make no 
 account of God's word, and declare plainly, that they 
 will not trust him without his bond. 
 
 If I rightly understood, and truly valued, God's 
 gift of Christ, I could not possibly be displeased with 
 him for any thing else. 
 
 It is disowning my belief, wronging my soul, and 
 giving the lie to God, to think, but for a moment, 
 that his mercy in Christ is not above all my sins. 
 
 Some sins I have forgot ; many I remember, and 
 these so heinous, that I cannot forgive myself for 
 them. It is well for me that God, who forgets none, 
 forgives all. 
 
 It is the great miracle, peculiar glory, and most 
 endearing blessed excellence of Christ's religion, that 
 conscience, of all things in the world the most severe 
 and inexorable, should ever be pacified by it, and 
 made good, as it were, in spite of itself. 
 
 Only God can bring light out of that darkness 
 which I myself am. I can no more do it myself, 
 than I can say, as he did at the creation, " Let there 
 be light," &c. 
 
 The belief of Christ's atonement and imputed 
 righteousness, seems to be God's way for our attain- 
 ing any degree of righteousness of our own, or all 
 the inherent and infused righteousness we ever shall 
 be capable of; and if this method is of God's appoint- 
 ing, it is dangerous trusting to any other. 
 
 The end of the commandment is, charity out of a 
 
175 
 
 pure heart, and that springing from a good conscience ; 
 that is, a conscience purged from the sense of guilt, 
 by faith unfeigned, Christ is in this way the wis- 
 dom of God and the power of God, though it seem 
 ever so absurd to the reason of man. 
 
 The gospel is a powerful engine for raising the 
 fallen nature of man ; but then God must have the 
 working of it. 
 
 The remission of sins, apprehended and applied 
 by faith, opens a new kind of intercourse between 
 God and the soul ; the veil is rent that barred its en- 
 trance into the most holy place, and it now stands 
 continually before God to receive advice, instruction, 
 and all manner of gracious, sanctifying influences. 
 
 The pecuHar doctrines of the gospel, justification 
 by faith, &c. must not only be revealed to us, but in 
 us ; and God, therefore, reveals them to us, that we 
 may go to him to have them revealed in us. 
 
 When we are wearied and quite spent with work- 
 ing out a righteousness of our own, we cast ourselves 
 with great advantage upon Christ for his ; and there 
 is then little danger of our being hurt by this doc- 
 trine. Tlie sense of such a rehef in our time of 
 need, will be, instead of a thousand arguments, to make 
 us press on to the utmost perfection of holiness we 
 are capable of. 
 
 In the presence of temptation, and the stirrings of 
 lust and corruption, what should hinder me from say- 
 ing, " Christ died for the sins of the whole world ;" 
 and, therefore, for mine, if they were ten thousand 
 times more and greater than they are ; and even for 
 those very motions and workings of sin, which I feel 
 this moment in myself? This is not strengthening, 
 
176 
 
 or yielding to the temptation, but a confession of my 
 impotence, and inviting the Holy Spirit to flow in 
 upon me, and acquiescing in Christ's method for my 
 deHverance ; and it is in this sense and behef only 
 that I desire to receive remission of my sins, and an 
 imputed righteousness from his hands. 
 
 Lord, have mercy upon me, and help me : I am 
 surrounded with enemies, which I cannot resist but 
 in thy strength, and must fall a prey to them without 
 thy assistance. Suffer not thy name to be cUshon- 
 oured in the destruction of thy poor creature, and 
 the triumph of the powers of darkness over thy pro- 
 mise for my salvation. Let the confession of my 
 weakness, and of my dependence upon thee, prevail 
 with thee in Christ to stand up in my defence ; and 
 do thou get the victory, and be glorified in thyself, 
 and in thy own goodness. Amen. 
 
 When faith in Christ, for the remission of sins 
 and the imputation of his righteousness, is God's 
 work in the soul, it operates to holiness, and renews 
 his image in us ; when it is man's, it is weak at the 
 best, often delusive, and fixes us in corruption. 
 
 That is the best kind of faith which is productive 
 of the greatest holiness. If man was left to himself, 
 he would be apt to choose that which is productive of 
 the least. 
 
 The doctrine of imputed righteousness is founded 
 upon the supposition of non-perfection. If we stay 
 for peace of mind and a quiet conscience, till we have 
 earned it by our works, we may stay till doomsday. 
 
 We may read, think, reason, be convinced, and 
 wiUing and glad to acquiesce ; but, after all, it is hard 
 for any man to believe for the remission of sins, in 
 good earnest, till it is given him of God. 
 
177 
 
 Every thing in religion is God's gift. It is bet- 
 ter on all accounts it should be so than otherwise. 
 
 Our own attainments are poor at the best, and can 
 yield us but little comfort ; but the soul which closes 
 heartily with God's operations, makes a swift progress 
 under them, and rejoices over them exceedingly as 
 evidences of his favour. 
 
 The renovation of the heart by the Spirit, the 
 new man in Christ, charity, &c. is not the ground, 
 cause, or condition of our acceptance and reward. 
 Itself is our reward, at least in part, and therefore 
 cannot be the cause of itself. Thus Abraham's hav- 
 ing a son was the consequence of his faith ; an addi- 
 tional superabundant grace, or favour of God to him ; 
 the thing indeed he wanted, but surely not on the 
 footing of merit. If St. Paul had said, that all the 
 services and shining qualities of the highest angels 
 were of no value, and would profit them nothing 
 without charity ; would this imply that their having 
 it was their title to God's favour, and to their high 
 rank in the order of creation ? It would be the or- 
 nament of their nature, and a necessary qualification 
 for their proper happiness ; but still the gift of God, 
 and no more their merit than their being is. I be- 
 lieve we see at once the horrid presumption of such 
 a claim in them. And yet wretched man is not to 
 be driven from the plea of his own merit. Man will 
 do something, if not all, for himself; he will earn his 
 salvation, either in whole or in part. It is the great 
 gospel mystery to acquaint us that the attempt is vain, 
 and that if ever we are saved, it must be by grace. 
 
 Those who deny salvation by faith alone, do not 
 pretend to say that it is by works alone ; but partly 
 h3 
 
178 
 
 by faith, and partly by works, and they will accept of 
 Christ to make good deficiencies. But they might 
 as well make sure work of it, and take him for all : 
 for their very best works, it is to be feared, will make 
 but a sorry appearance ; and, consequently, their own 
 persons, when tried in the balance, be found miser- 
 ably wanting. 
 
 There is no more absurdity in trusting wholly to 
 Christ, than there is in trusting to him only in part ; 
 to his atonement and righteousness, than to his atone- 
 ment only; or his atonement and righteousness in 
 part. Man wants him in all hi& offices and benefits ; 
 divided, he can be of no service to us, and he will 
 never be content to go halves with our pride. 
 
 Faith is the means of attaining to the Spirit, and 
 the Spirit is the spring of our power and possibility 
 of working. Faith in this view, and embraced for 
 ' this end, will stand its ground against all opposition. 
 There can be no pretence for decrying it as an enemy 
 to ""ood works. 
 
 The mystery of the gospel, as distinguished from 
 the law, consists in changing the order of two words : 
 one says, " Do and hve ;" the other says, " Live and 
 do." .^^JL 
 
 One would think' that a poor labourer, sweating 
 out his term of threescore years and ten, to half-starve 
 a hungry family, though as ignorant of spirituals, 
 and as unconcerned about them as a brute, was bet- 
 ter employed, and in a higher state of purgation, than 
 a monk at his offices : nevertheless, the Scripture 
 makes no allowances, when it says, " This is eternal 
 life, to know thee, the only true God, and Jesus 
 Christ whom thou has sent." And if reason was 
 
179 
 
 allowed to bring in its exceptions, they would be end- 
 less. 
 
 It is impossible for a considerate person to think 
 himself safe upon the foundation of his own works. 
 Tlie consequence is plain : We have then nothing to 
 trust to but an act of grace from God, or something 
 that is not our own. And yet, by a strange perverse- 
 ness, when the only proper relief is proposed to us, 
 we naturally reject it, either in whole or in part. 
 
 The law, not performed, drives us to Christ for 
 remission ; and Christ received, brings us back again 
 to the law, with all possible advantage for performance : 
 for he came not to destroy the law, but to fulfil it. 
 
 If we knew the gospel to be what it is, and what 
 the angels, who must know, said it was, namely, 
 " Glory to God in the highest ; and on earth peace, 
 good- will towards men ;" or, a full discharge from all 
 guilt and blame ; and from the bond of the law, as a 
 covenant, — we should be apt to say of it, " It is too 
 good news to be true." 
 
 The mercy of God in the forgiveness of our sins, 
 can never be understood or believed, can be no mo- 
 tive of love, gratitude, and obedience, till we know the 
 extent of our obligation in a full conviction of our 
 demerits. But this can never be, so long as we 
 pride ourselves on the rectitude of our nature, and 
 stand upon the false bottom of a few moral perfor- 
 mances. 
 
 We believe in order to be holy, and therefore need 
 not to be holy in order to our beheving. It is a de- 
 nial of the gospel to suppose that we must be changed 
 from sin to holiness, before we may venture upon 
 Christ for his salvation. Then faith is unnecessary. 
 
180 
 
 and no longer the foundation of holiness. And if 
 we can thus change ourselves, we can do all without 
 Christ and his Spirit. Horace's " Sunt verba et 
 voces," &c. is a vain boast ; Cicero's Offices, and the 
 divine Plato, can do me no good. Christ " deHvered 
 for our offences, and raised again for our justification," 
 is the relifjion I want. 
 
 I cannot love my neighbour as myself, till I love 
 God with all my heart. I cannot love God but from 
 a sense of his love to me in the forgiveness of my 
 sins ; and I cannot receive forgiveness from him as a 
 benefit till I know my want of it. 
 
 To say that we are justified by works, is saying that 
 we are justified by sin. Put the good actions of the 
 best men into one scale, and their bad into another, 
 and see whether the latter will not preponderate. 
 And if so, the result is sin. 
 
 It is to be supposed, that those who talk of being 
 justified by works, separate all imperfection and alloy 
 of evil from their good ones, and leave the bad quite 
 out of the account. 
 
 I am convinced with the greatest fulness of assur- 
 ance, and by an inward feeling above all demonstra- 
 tion, that nothing can help me in my spiritual re- 
 covery but God. And my recovery, in any tolerable 
 degree, will be as full a proof to me of his help, as 
 the world is of his being. This is the sensibility I 
 wish for ; and if I can acquiesce in any thing less, 
 all other marks will be fallacious. 
 
 Whenever I die, I die a sinner ; but, by the grace 
 of God, penitent, and, I trust, accepted in the Be- 
 loved. 
 
 I have some degree of power over my outward 
 
181 
 
 man, but little over my inward. I can make a shift 
 to be just, do acts of kindness and humility, and put 
 on a show of courtesy and civility; but the bent of 
 my heart is still the same. I can no more love God 
 with all my heart, or come up to St. Paul's descrip- 
 tion of charity, than I can reach heaven with my 
 hands. In this point of view, what a seasonable aid 
 is gospel power ! And how exactly is the religion 
 of the Bible suited to the wants of mankind, in its 
 offers of forgiveness and renovation ! 
 
 That same law, which we cannot bear as a yoke 
 upon our necks, we survey with pleasure, and take 
 up willingly, when it lies at our feet. 
 
 The doctrine of justification by faith alone, could 
 never stand its ground long at a time. This is to 
 me a proof of its truth and excellent tendency. It 
 is not at all for the purpose of a corrupt world ; and 
 therefore it is no wonder it should be rejected, as 
 often as it makes its appearance. 
 
 Sinful man, saved in Christ, always was, and always 
 will be, a mystery. But where is the mystery of our 
 being saved by an inherent righteousness ? O ! why 
 does sinful man for ever dispute against his remedy, 
 and return to the beggarly elements of the world, the 
 flesh, and the powers of nature, when the mercy of 
 God is so plainly declared, and so fully made over to 
 him, as his only help and comfort ? St. Paul told 
 the Jews of his day, that justification was by faith 
 only, and not by the works of the law. Suppose 
 now they had understood this assertion of the cere- 
 monial law, as many have done since, might they not 
 very justly have said, " Neither do we look to be 
 justified, or accepted with God for our observation of 
 
182 
 
 the ceremonial part of the law, but for our obedience 
 to the whole law, and especially the moral ?" It is 
 plain, therefore, that St. Paul, in speaking of this 
 matter, always means the whole law, rotunde, as Martin 
 Luther says ; or else the dispute between them would 
 soon have been at an end. He would only have 
 affirmed what they never denied. 
 
 Did Christ die for small matters ? for trifling frail- 
 ties? Few are willing to charge themselves with 
 more. Or is St. Paul's representation of human na- 
 ture true ? and if it is, where are the believers ? and 
 what a blot does our pride make of the whole gospel ? 
 
 We must either think of God as a reconciled Fa- 
 ther, or groundlessly presume upon his mercy, or be 
 under continual dread of his justice. The first of 
 these is the Christian state, the second is a state of 
 dangerous security, the last is a slavish state, full of 
 fears and terrors, and, if we think of God at all, will 
 destroy the comfort of our lives. 
 
 Redemption by the blood of Christ (mark it well, 
 O my soul !) is the ground-work of the majestic tri- 
 umphant song of praise in heaven, Rev. v. 9. and a 
 disposition to join in it, our chief capacity for, and 
 actual happiness in, time and eternity. 
 
 Dung and prune a bad tree to all eternity, it can 
 bring forth no other than fruit of its own kind. Un- 
 derstanding this is understanding the gospel. 
 
 We are justified all at once ; without law, and in 
 spite of law; and for no other reason, but because 
 Christ died for us. When we are settled in this 
 belief, law and conscience are upon good terms again. 
 
 Christ saves us from the sentence of condemnation 
 we pronounce upon ourselves : if we leave it to him 
 to pronounce, nothing can save us. 
 
183 
 
 If ever we come to Christ, we must be conscious 
 of our own blindness, and with all our distempers 
 about us : he is not so absurd as to bid us first heal 
 ourselves, and then come to him for a cure. Stay- 
 ing till we can bring some kind of fitness or worthi- 
 ness of our own along with us, is gross misapprehen- 
 sion, if not total unbelief, and hinders many from ever 
 coming to him at all. 
 
 If I was to live to the world's end, and do all the 
 good that man can do, I must still cry, " Mercy !'* 
 Why then should I be unwilling or afraid to die this 
 moment, with the sense of God's pardoning love, 
 when I can have no other claim to salvation, if I was 
 to live for ever? 
 
 One would think it is but tolerably modest to say, 
 that God knows the way to heaven better than we 
 do, and that it is lawful for him to prescribe to us 
 the terms of our admission into it ; and yet there is 
 no proposition more generally ridiculed. 
 
 The knowledge of my sin, and of God's love in 
 the forgiveness of it, is my preparation for loving and 
 obeying him ; why then should I be afraid to take 
 the measure of my sin, since it is to be the measure of 
 my love and activity ? 
 
 Wlien we come to understand the nature and ex- 
 tent of Christian morals, we see at once the neces-^ 
 sity of remission and of divine help: these are two 
 material points of difference betwixt Christianity and 
 all the sects of Paganism. The Stoics, who spoke 
 excellently of virtue, and were the most introverted 
 sect, were withal self-sufficient. 
 
 Conscious of my weakness, or rather deadness, I 
 offer myself to God to be his workmanship, created 
 
184 
 
 ' in Christ Jesus unto good works ; but finding that I 
 can never have a righteousness of my own, so com- 
 plete as to be worthy of his acceptance, I offer up 
 Jesus Christ daily and hourly, upon the altar of my 
 heart, as the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin 
 of the world ; beseeching God that it may be in the 
 true fire of repentance and faith kindled by the eter- 
 nal Spirit. 
 
 What makes a happy life? Knowing that we 
 can smile upon death. 
 
 Human perfection is reality of desire, and sincerity 
 of endeavour, and that in Christ is accepted ; perfect 
 righteousness was attained only by Christ, and that 
 is imputed : these are two joyful truths of our reli- 
 gion ; and I know of no other that can quiet the soul, 
 or carry it on with so swift a progress towards real 
 holmess. 
 
 The righteousness of God, Rom. x. 3. is no kind 
 or degree of our own, however acquired, either be- 
 fore or after faith and the new birth ; but that which 
 God bestows in and with Christ. The rio-hteous- 
 ness of God, according to the terms, must be abso- 
 lutely and every way complete ; but who can think 
 this of his own, in the highest and best state of it ? 
 
 I am sure God will not put me into a great fire, if 
 i a little one will do. 
 
 It is the property of faith, first to empty the soul, 
 and then fill it with comfort, and strencpthen it for 
 duty : at the same time that I see sin in the shape of 
 a fury, I see it nailed to the cross. 
 
 If God sees me in Christ, I cannot be in full pos- 
 session of the truth without seeing myself there. 
 
 All my earthly happiness, quietness, and assur- 
 
185 
 
 ance, is from the knowledge and belief of Jesus and 
 hope of his salvation ; but I have not a thousandth 
 part of the joy I should have, if I dehghted in him, 
 and loved him in some proportion to his excellence, 
 benefits, and love to me, and lived wholly for him. 
 
 I am as far off as ever by resolving and attempting, 
 in my own strength, to do what I cannot. All de- 
 pends upon prayer, patient waiting, and receiving. 
 Psalm cxxxi. 
 
 I go to Christ with faith for faith. 
 
 One touch of Christ makes him mine, with all he 
 has and is : in him I am well beloved, clear of all 
 blame, and perfectly righteous. All comes with this 
 faith ; love, fidelity, gratitude, pure obedience ; with- 
 out it, nothing. 
 
 It is a most reviving, transporting thought, that 
 faith makes me as clean from all spot of sin, as pure 
 and perfectly white as a saint in heaven ; and if I do 
 not believe in Christ chiefly for this, what do I be- 
 lieve in him for ? 
 
 Wliat have I to do, on the peril of my soul, but to 
 take God at his word ; to lay all my sins down at the 
 foot of the cross ; and then prostrate myself there in 
 humble adoration, pure love, and the most sincere pro- 
 fessions of fidelity to my crucified Saviour ? 
 
 He who has already done so much for me, will leave 
 nothing undone. 
 
 Cordial, perfect closing with the will of God, from 
 a root of faith, and lively sense of Christ's peace, to 
 do whatever he commands, to avoid what he forbids, 
 to suffer what he ordains, will be a step unto heaven ; 
 and I shall then know upon what plan life should 
 have been conducted, and what happiness I have 
 lost. 
 
186 
 
 " The Lord hath put away thy sin ; thou shalt 
 not die :'* the Lord speaks this to me as much as he 
 did to David ; and though I do not always apprehend 
 it with the same degree of clearness, or height of 
 assurance, yet the Scripture always says it for me ; and 
 I ought never to disbelieve the word of God so much 
 as for a moment. 
 
 The love of God in Christ, apprehended by faith, 
 will give me an understanding, a heart, a tongue. 
 Man's sin is God's glory in the forgiveness of it by 
 Christ ; and God's forgiveness is man's eternal shame, 
 if he continues to sin against it. 
 
 Forgiveness of sin by the death of Christ, is a rea- 
 son why we should never forgive ourselves. 
 
 Every man is, what he once was, and always will 
 be, a condemned sinner, notwithstanding any repen- 
 tance or future obedience, without an interest in 
 Christ. 
 
 It is the joy of my heart that I am freed from 
 guilt, and the desire of my heart to be freed from sin. 
 
 I see plainly that such a one has better qualities 
 than I have. But if I am more a believer, I have 
 a much better righteousness than any man can have 
 in himself. 
 
 " No man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by 
 the Holy Ghost :" I do say that Jesus is the Lord ; 
 therefore I say it by the Holy Ghost. This reason- 
 ing would set a world of souls at ease, who are per- 
 plexed about the reality of their faith. They can- 
 not deny the second member of the syllogism, but 
 will not be persuaded that they have a faith of the 
 Spirit's operation, because it has not been given them 
 in some sensible manner, or because it is sometimes 
 
187 
 
 assaulted with doubts, or because they cannot prove 
 it by a higher measure of hohness. Query — What 
 is that measure of hoUness which must prove our 
 faith ? and whether any thing can prove it but it- 
 self? 
 
 Either there is such a thing as predestination to 
 life, accompanied with a perfect renovation of heart, 
 mind, and will — and then I do not find that I am of 
 the number of the elect, as having no such experi- 
 ence ; or I may hereafter attain to the perfection of 
 the predestinated; or Christ apprehended by faith, 
 is a safe ground of hope, with imperfection, a great 
 remainder of sin, and low degrees of holiness in him- 
 self. In the last only I have comfort ; and a blessed 
 hope it is, if I do not make it a pretence for sloth, 
 or acquiescence in my present state. 
 
 Faith is trust in the promises of God for eternity* 
 
188 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 GOOD WORKS. 
 
 It is the hardest thing in the world not to think 
 our good works better than they are, and to make 
 the very best keep their distance in the office of jus- 
 tification. Though we must be judged by and ac- 
 cording to our actions, yet we shall not be saved for 
 them. 
 
 Doubtless God takes care to qualify his faithful 
 servants for the happiness he intends for them ; which 
 is, the enjoyment of himself. And there can be no 
 other possible qualification for this happiness, or a 
 capacity of receiving and enjoying it, but holiness; 
 that is to say, a full bent of soul towards God, and a 
 hearty love and liking of all that he is, does, wills, 
 and ordains. But then we must not pretend to bring 
 this holiness to account, as the ground of our accep- 
 tance. A person who is continually receiving fa- 
 vours from another, may as well reckon the last to be 
 the procuring cause of the first, as we make our holi- 
 ness, whatever it is, to be in any sense the cause or 
 ground of our acceptance with God. When we have 
 done all we ever shall do, the very best state we ever 
 sliall arrive at, will be so far from meriting a reward, 
 tliat it will need a pardon. 
 
 The doctrine of justification by faith alone, is our 
 fitness, advantage, and encouragement for the prac- 
 tice of good works, and can never be made a handle 
 for sloth or licentiousness, when it is preceded by 
 
189 
 
 repentance, as, if received in faith, it necessarily must 
 be. Whoever entertains it as a pretence or excuse 
 for not working, or doing his best, is still impenitent 
 and unbelieving, let him think what he wHl. 
 
 God makes himself a debtor to man, for his own 
 goodness in man. 
 
 He that has once felt the peace of God in the re- 
 mission of sins, will hardly stop short, or make it a 
 handle for sloth or licentiousness. This would be as 
 if a man was travelling to a certain country, and hav- 
 ing by some means or other got a taste of its excel- 
 lent fruits, should make it a pretence for going no 
 further, or turning back again. 
 
 It is well said, that though faith justifies us, yet 
 works must justify our faith. 
 
 Justification by sanctification, is man's way to hea- 
 ven, and it is odds but he will make a little serve the 
 turn. Sanctification by justification is God's, and 
 he fills the soul with his own fulness. 
 
 The maintainers of imputed righteousness must 
 be content to undergo the mortification of being 
 thought opposers or discouragers of good works : 
 though they constantly plead for them, and for their 
 own doctrine, as the best, if not the only sure way 
 of attaining to them ; do not come a whit behind 
 their adversaries in the performance of them; and 
 perform them more freely and sincerely, and upon 
 more generous principles of love, gratitude, and obe- 
 dience, than those who venture all upon their own 
 actions, and make them the ground of their accep- 
 tance. 
 
 I trust to Christ for sanctification, and not to sanc- 
 tification for Christ. " Without holiness no man 
 
190 
 
 shall see the Lord." But then holiness is not the 
 foundation of our reward. It is itself God's gift to 
 us, in order to qualify us for our proper happiness, 
 and as the grand means of enjoying him, and there- 
 fore cannot in any sense be the procuring meritorious 
 cause of it. But nevertheless it is, by this kind of 
 reasoning, every way as necessary as if it was. 
 
 God pardons in order to cleanse. Whoever ex- 
 pects forgiveness without any thought or desire of 
 being cleansed, cannot receive it. It is impossible 
 for God to forgive an unrepenting sinner; and he 
 does not repent, who does not purpose and wish to 
 be changed. 
 
 I know and believe that all I am, have, or can be, 
 without charity, is nothing ; but I do not believe in 
 charity for my acceptance with God. 
 
 Every other faith but that which apprehends Christ 
 as a purifier, as well as our atonement and righteous- 
 ness, is false and hypocritical. He can only be re- 
 ceived into the soul, when he is desired for his 
 goodness ; and when he is there, he will not sit down 
 idle. 
 
 We are accepted in Christ in the performance of 
 good works, and not for them. 
 
 ^Vhat motive to goodness is there in all nature, so 
 forcible as the love of God in the forgiveness of our 
 sins ? And what fitness can any one possibly have 
 in himself, for works, or working, on whom it will not 
 operate ? 
 
 It is next to impossible to do good actions, merely 
 because they are good, tiU we are in possession of 
 that principle so strenuously asserted by Martin Lu- 
 ther, namely, that our salvation is wholly of faith ; 
 
191 
 
 and that good works are only a ground of comfort, 
 as proofs of our faith, but signify nothing to our ac- 
 ceptance with God. And what a glorious recom- 
 mendation of faith is this, that it is the only thing 
 that makes way for the truth of obedience, from a 
 pure motive of love ; our own interest in all the good 
 we do, according to this notion, being quite out of 
 the question ! 
 
 It is impossible for a proud man to have so much 
 as one virtue : he wants the very essence of all vir- 
 tue, namely, disinterestedness, and a pure love of rec- 
 titude. 
 
 A person who believes in the righteousness of 
 Christ, may truly say, " Lord, what love have I unto 
 thy law !" The law is necessary as a rule, and ami- 
 able as a free service, and performable in the power 
 of faith : but, as exacting strict obedience under the 
 penalty of death, it is a heavy load upon the con- 
 science ; and, in that sense, abolished to make way 
 for a better dispensation. 
 
 A virtue wrought out of the stock of our own 
 ideas, in our own strength, that is, merely human or 
 pagan, is without foundation, has no reality, and can 
 contribute nothing to our happiness. What, for in- 
 stance, is the greatest affability and condescension, 
 without a root of true humility ; forbearance of the 
 outward act, without inward purity ; patience, without 
 thankfulness J beneficence, without love; and espe- 
 cially, what is zeal for religion, or exactness in a 
 form, if it does not spring from a heart devoted to 
 God, and relinquishing all for communion with him ? 
 But I am sensible, and know with the utmost cer- 
 tainty, that I can no more give these qualities to my- 
 
192 
 
 self, in their inward deep ground, than I could make 
 a world. 
 
 Christ's cross, truly believed, will have two seem- 
 ingly different effects : it will put me upon being as 
 good as ever I can, and make me sensible that I am 
 altogether vile. 
 
 There can be no true religion without love, no love 
 of man without love of God, nor love of God without 
 the knowledge and love of Christ. 
 
 All virtue which does not spring from the cross of 
 Christ, is defective in some respect or other; and 
 most horribly in overrating itself. 
 
 It is the duty of every Christian to aim at perfec- 
 tion, and be going on to it; but he is a very ill- 
 informed Christian, if not a downright unbeliever, who 
 depends upon it for salvation. 
 
 Faith goes before salvation, and works follow it ; 
 not to be made the ground of our justification, but 
 as the necessary concomitants, and proper fruits of 
 faith ; and whenever obedience puts itself in the place 
 of faith, St. Paul's words may fitly be applied to it, 
 — " Know that thou bearest not the root, but the 
 root thee." Why, then, are works to be the great 
 subject of inquiry at the day of judgment ? Because 
 they are the visible effects of faith, and only good as 
 springing from a root of faith ; so that the want of 
 them proves, of course, the want of faith. 
 
 The life of faith can only spring from faith, as trees 
 and plants do from their proper seeds. The gener- 
 ality know better what theii' work is, than where to 
 begin it. 
 
 If I have faith in Christ, I shall love him ; if I 
 love him, I shall keep his commandments; if I do 
 
193 
 
 not keep his commandments, I do not love him ; if 
 I do not love him, I do not beheve in him. 
 
 A believer does not do good works to be saved by 
 them, but in love to others, from a root of faith, and 
 because he is saved. " K ye love me, keep my com- 
 mandments.'' Love of Christ for what he is, as 
 made known unto us by what he has done and suf- 
 fered for us, is first ; and keeping the commandments, 
 is not for salvation, but because we are saved by him. 
 Whatever we do on this ground, is well-pleasing to 
 God, and will have its reward ; but it is abomination 
 in his sight, if we would obtrude it upon him as per- 
 fect in itself, and full satisfaction to the demands of his 
 law. 
 
 It would be a great abuse of the doctrine of sal- 
 vation by faith, and a state of dangerous security, to 
 say. If it pleases God to advance me to a higher, or 
 the highest degree of holiness, I should have great 
 cause of thankfulness, and it would be the very joy of 
 my heart; but, nevertheless, I can do without it, as 
 being safe in Christ: whereas, there is no safety 
 without an entire submission to the will of God. 
 
194 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CHRISTIAN LIFE. 
 
 The great mistake of life, and the cause of all the 
 u'ickedness and misery in the world, is looking for 
 happiness here, and especially in externals, where it 
 never will be found. If we were in a state of dili- 
 gent preparation and patient waiting for it in an- 
 other life, we should have nothing to scramble or 
 quarrel for, nor ever be disappointed ; we should be 
 freed at once from all vain anxiety ; bear crosses, help 
 one another in love, rejoice in hope, and welcome 
 death. 
 
 The things which God hath prepared for them 
 that love him, are, according to the revelation of his 
 nature and will, in Jesus Christ. In this belief, study 
 to know him more and more; make him your trea- 
 sure and portion, and long for the everlasting enjoy- 
 ment of him. 
 
 In heaven we shall have a perfect knowledge of 
 sin, far beyond any thing we now conceive of it, in 
 conjunction with the greatness of our deliverance ; 
 and the glory of redeeming mercy will be the eternal 
 irround of our love and admiration. On earth it is 
 the great exercise of faith, and one of the hardest 
 thincjs in the world, to see sin and Christ at the same 
 time, or to be penetrated with a lively sense of our 
 desert, and absolute freedom from condemnation. 
 But the more we know of both, the nearer approach 
 we shall make to the state of heaven ; and are our 
 
195 
 
 own greatest enemies, if, together with the fullest 
 comprehension of sin, and the deepest humiliation for 
 it, we do not look unto Jesus, and see it taken away 
 by the Lamb of God. 
 
 He is the greatest saint upon earth, who feels his 
 poverty most in the want of perfect holiness, and 
 longs with the greatest earnestness for the time when 
 he shall be put in full possession of it. 
 
 Before you do any thing pleasing to the flesh, be 
 sure that you have God's leave; and whatever he 
 commands, though ever so unpleasant to the flesh, 
 be sure to do it. Make a grievance of nothing but 
 sin. 
 
 Christ will accept nothing at my hands till I give 
 him my heart ; and when I do, I shall not give him 
 mites ; though one will be well taken. 
 
 Nothing can be happiness to us, but what we think 
 so; and yet thinking any thing to be happiness, 
 does not make it so. It is, therefore, of the utmost 
 importance to us to be well-informed in the matter. 
 
 Repent, and believe ; believe, and love ; love, and 
 obey ; obey in love, and be as happy as you can be 
 in this world. 
 
 Temptations are not sins, but means of perfection, 
 or causes of strengthening the will ; and thrown in 
 our way, that we may resist them in the fear of God, 
 conquer in his help, and increase our reward. 
 
 If I prefer any thing in my heart to God and his 
 will, my whole state and being, every thought, word, 
 and work, is sinful. 
 
 God's coming and presence in the soul, is best un- 
 derstood by the power of it in the change it works 
 in us. 
 
 i2 
 
196 
 
 It is a day lost, indeed, in which I lose ground of 
 heaven. When my will is united to God's, I shall 
 always have what I want. What lunders me from 
 being thus religious and happy ? 
 
 I have had but little thought or purpose of em- 
 ploying the talents which God has given me solely 
 to his glory. Whenever I do this with a single eye 
 to please him, I need not be concerned what they are, 
 one or ten, and shall be indifferent about the esteem 
 of the world. 
 
 What has God for me to do to-day ? I am not 
 to live to myself; so I should have thought all my 
 life, and every day of my life ; doing my work faith- 
 fully, praising God for appointing it, and desiring no 
 other happiness. 
 
 He who is Christ's free-man, is made such by 
 Christian faith and obedience : he is heaven-taught, 
 Spirit-led, has a single desire to know and please 
 God better, is aiming at perfection, and grieving for 
 nothinjT so much as the want of it. 
 
 A Christian is strong in resolution, fervent in his 
 desire of holiness, and makes the most violent efforts 
 to attain it; but at the same time knows that it is 
 absolutely out of his own power ; and, therefore, de- 
 pends upon God for support, and keeps close to him 
 in prayer for constant supplies of Hght, grace, and 
 comfort. 
 
 If God says, Thou shalt not ; a child of God says 
 at once, I will not, in spite of strength, of inclination, 
 or violence of temptation. If God says. Thou shalt ; 
 he says, In spite of custom, difficulty, or danger, I 
 will. This is freedom, this is happiness, this is life 
 and power from God, of which we may be as sure as 
 that we did not make ourselves. 
 
197 
 
 Enjoy the day in the day, without stretching your 
 thought to some future time, and live to-day so as to 
 enjoy to-morrow ; but do not deceive yourselves with 
 hopes of much enjoyment from any day. 
 
 God's design is to bring us happily to himself in 
 anotlier world, and he will leave no means unessayed 
 for this purpose. If we have the same end in view, 
 and look up to him, as carrying it on steadily for us, 
 we may be happy both here and hereafter ; if we have 
 not, the consequence must necessarily be, despon- 
 dency, vexation, and fretfulness at the ways of Pro- 
 vidence. 
 
 The will of God is my pole-star ; and, with my eye 
 constantly upon it, I shall be carried safely through 
 all storms and tempests. 
 
 I am not sure of the present hour: I am sure I 
 have nothing to do with any thing else. 
 
 Bearing with thyself in the want of spiritual 
 strength, or absence of spiritual comfort, is neither 
 more nor less than bearing with God, and the effect 
 of no common grace. 
 
 Without the enjoyment of conscience, I can have 
 no other. 
 
 The Spirit in the children of God is like an or- 
 gan; one man is one stop; another, another; tlie 
 sound is different, the instrument the same, but mu- 
 sic in all. 
 
 Whatever opposes God in my heart, or keeps him 
 out of it, must be abhorred and cast out. The op- 
 position is strong, and the work difficult, and we see 
 at once that it can only be done with divine help. 
 It is the excellence of Scripture to offer this help, 
 and call us to make use of it. 
 
198 
 
 Head-knowledge is our own, and can polish only 
 the outside; heart-knowledge is the Spirit's work, 
 and makes all glorious within. Nothing is well done 
 in our spiritual huilding, but what is done with prayer 
 and God's help. Fight and pray. Fly and pray. 
 
 Thank God for laying his command on my heart, 
 and for disposing my heart to delight in it. 
 
 When we feel no burden, and complain of no 
 want but that of entire sanctification, life will be a 
 continual dying, and death welcome. 
 
 When we obey the will of God from the heart, 
 we stand before him, as the angels do, in the original 
 glory and full blessing of our. natures ; and so far as 
 we come short of this, we come short of happiness. 
 
 Is this a dying thought? — All think they mean 
 well ; and, by an egregious piece of self-flattery, they 
 take it for granted, that our defect of good lies not 
 in the will, but the ability. Just the reverse : if the 
 will is good, we are good. 
 
 Purity of heart, mind, and conscience, does not 
 consist in freedom from temptation, or total insensi- 
 bility, but in abstinence from the outward act of sin, 
 and suppression of all inward motions and tendencies 
 to it, in the fear of God, and with a steady choice of 
 his will. I shall be a happy man, and possess con- 
 sciousness of help from above in answer to prayer, 
 when I am determined at all events for the will of 
 God. Show me where the wiU of God is, I know 
 where pleasure is. Sensuality will not do, gross or 
 refined. Nothing can support my spirits, or enable 
 me to pass through the world with any degree of con- 
 stant satisfaction, but walking with God, in the faith 
 of Christ, as a reconciled Father, doing his will, under 
 
199 
 
 his eye, with his help, acquiescing in this state ot" 
 mind, looking no farther, desiring no other riches, 
 living for no other end. 
 
 If we long truly for God, he has given us a great 
 deal in that longing ; and if he make us wait now, he 
 will make us full amends hereafter. O Jesus, call me 
 to God by thy cross, thy love, thy Spirit, and then 
 call me home ! 
 
 O for a steady will, to think and do all with a sole 
 regard to the eye of God, and with great indifference 
 for the esteem or censure of any man living ! 
 
 In case of sin allowed, or weakly resisted, the con- 
 science will not be quieted with hopes and promises; 
 no, nor with the blood of Christ. 
 
 The more faith, the less conscience of sin, and 
 less servile fear ; the less conscience of sin, the more 
 consciousness and lively sensibility of its odious, cursed 
 nature. 
 
 Time flies fast, but conscience should keep pace 
 with it. 
 
 December 28, 1763, Press on, in the name and 
 strength of God, to an assured victory. 
 
 The heart is due to God. O what joy, ease, and 
 freedom, when I can say it is God's, for his love, for 
 Christ's sake, by the Spirit's power ; no enjoyment 
 but in God, or God's work ! O for the pure heart 
 and the single eye ! 
 
 It is a hard thing for a real Christian, fearing and 
 striving against all sin, to be patient with it, in sub- 
 mission to the divine will ; but what can we do, if 
 God is pleased to suffer it in us, as he does for wise 
 purposes, to humble us, to convince us of our depen- 
 dence, to keep us close to Christ ; — so St. Paul ex- 
 
200 
 
 ulted in the grace of God, and could defy remaining 
 corruption to condemn him : Rom. vii. The moment 
 we think that we have no sin, we shall desert Christ. 
 
 We may know by our affection to the Sabbath, 
 whether eternity will be forced upon us. 
 
 If it pleases God to endue me with spiritual wis- 
 dom, I shall from henceforth pay a greater regard to 
 the teaching of my Lord, and have no treasure but 
 in heaven, no heart but for heaven. 
 
 The great mistake of life is self-pleasing, or look- 
 ing for a state of rest and satisfaction here, not only 
 in sensual gratification, but even in the way of reli- 
 gion, instead of taking up the cross, labouring in duty 
 and submission to the will of Heaven, with a renun- 
 ciation of all worldly schemes of happiness, and pa^ 
 tient waiting for death to put us in possession of it. 
 The only happiness of this world is preparing in it 
 for another, and being content without it till death. 
 
 To think and act, to be as much disengaged in 
 respect of N. N. and as necessarily drawn to seek 
 happiness elsewhere, as if there was no such person 
 in the world. The work is great, and the time is 
 short; but what cannot God do? 
 
 I never was happy till I knew that I could not be 
 happy in this world, and consented to wait for it till 
 God's time and place. This thought will keep me 
 from all self-pleasing in forbidden ways ; reconcile me 
 to sufferings, crosses, injuries, mortifications, and put 
 a smile on the face of death. 
 
 Religion does not consist in a point. The soul 
 that has entered mto the true spirit of it, is never 
 satisfied with its attainments, but continually presses on 
 to greater heights ; and, notwithstanding the greatest 
 
201 
 
 abundance of graces received, is still craving, thinks 
 itself poor, and utterly unworthy of any reward. 
 This is humility and poverty of spirit. Pride will 
 carry a man to heaven's gate, but nothing but humility 
 will find admission. 
 
 " He that is not with me," says our Saviour, '* is 
 against me." Mere indiflPerence to good, is evil. 
 
 The truest mortifications, and the surest test of a 
 real disposition to be mortified, are those which we 
 receive from others, and from God. Self-mortifica- 
 tion, or crosses of our own choosing, are often only a 
 more refined species of pride and self-will. 
 
 The world slides into our hearts by the avenues 
 of sense, in cases we little think of. There may be 
 danger in giving ourselves up fully to a warm sun- 
 shine, or the pleasures of a beautiful landscape. This 
 may be thought morose, indeed ; but let the miUtant 
 soul be upon its guard. 
 
 I may cheat myself and others with a counterfeit 
 appearance of virtue, or rather keep under the con- 
 trary appearance by continual acts of violence ; but 
 the reality of it, and of all our graces, can only spring 
 from a nature. Consciousness of our want of this 
 nature, and sensible concern for it, is the beginning of 
 religion or repentance ; patient waiting upon God for 
 it, according to Christ, is the progress of religion, or 
 faith and hope ; and the actual receiving of it, is the 
 end of religion or charity. The man who has the 
 Spirit of God, and of Christ, is spiritual, redeemed, 
 a Christian, the child of God, and has in him the 
 nature and life of heaven and eternity. The man 
 who has no other spirit than his own, though ever 
 so learned, rational, and regular in his behaviour, is 
 I 3 
 
202 
 
 carnal, sensual, earthly, the child of death, and stands 
 in the kingdom of darkness : the tree is corrupt, and 
 the fruit corrupt, though they appear ever so beauti- 
 ful. This doctrine is of the very essence and life- 
 blood of Christianity, and nothing can be plainer, or 
 more full to the purpose, than St. Paul's assertion, 
 Rom. viii. 9. But it is a terrible mystery to fleshly 
 wisdom, and will for ever be the subject of debate and 
 contradiction. 
 
 Sanctification is a gift ; and the business of man 
 is to desire, receive, and use it. But he can by no 
 act, or effort of his own, produce it in himself. Grace 
 can do every thing ; nature nothing. 
 
 When my appetite is weak, squeamish, or vitiated, 
 I know it is a symptom of decay and bodily disorder : 
 and is not the want or deprivation of spiritual appe- 
 tite, the same indication of debility, and great dis- 
 order in the soul? 
 
 In temporals, riches is power; in spirituals, po- 
 verty. 
 
 It is a terrible mortification to a serious man, to 
 find the evil spirit still in possession, after he had 
 thought it entirely gone. But withal it affords a 
 happy conviction of our impotence, as well as inbred 
 corruption, and will lead in time, with hearty repen- 
 tance and true faith, to that friendly power, from 
 whence cometh our help. 
 
 It is with the soul as with the stomach; there 
 must be a healthy constitution of both to digest and 
 assimilate their respective food. 
 
 Meekness of wisdom compels, where reason can- 
 not persuade. 
 
 When we quit our hold of the creature, and of 
 
Q03 
 
 earthly enjoyments, what is there left for us to stay 
 upon ? What can make us amends for the want of 
 them ? Is there any thing beside that we can feel, 
 relish, and feed upon with delight? Yes; faitli, 
 hope, and charity. These are a blessed resource to 
 the soul; and it is the choice and possession of those 
 that constitutes a Christian, and the Christian happi- 
 ness. 
 
 When we once come to know and believe in o-ootl 
 earnest, that there is a peace with God to be had, and 
 that it is the very thnig we want, it will make us cool 
 in all other pursuits. 
 
 There is great folly and presumption in comparing 
 ourselves with others, or despising any man. We 
 may be worse than others, when we think ourselves 
 better : possibly we neither know them nor ourselves. 
 If we are really better, the difference is not from our- 
 selves ; and, whatever they may be, our own want of 
 humility is certainly a most terrible defect. 
 
 I desire the Spii'it of God above and beyond all 
 other possessions, interests, satisfactions, or enjoy- 
 ments ; both as a controlling principle, discernible in 
 its effects, and enabling me to command myself and 
 all my powers for God ; and as a distinct inward feel- 
 ing or consciousness, and foretaste of the heavenly 
 happiness. I think both are held forth in Scripture, 
 and the one can hardly be without the other in any 
 heart. 
 
 There is no possibility of happiness, but in the 
 possession of our own choice, will, and desire; and 
 the will of man, in his present condition, stands bent 
 against the order and will of God. What is to be 
 done ? and whose will must be changed ? The con- 
 
204. 
 
 ciirrence of our wills with the will of God, is our rec- 
 titude and happiness ; their opposition, our corruption 
 and misery. 
 
 The first man fell by withdrawing his will from the 
 will of God. By nature we stand in the same state of 
 separation, and are perpetually acting his revolt over 
 again, and can only be restored by the reduction of 
 our wills to the order of God's. 
 
 Peace with God, and peace with all the world, and 
 with all nature. — See Hosea ii. 18. and the parallel 
 places. 
 
 How happy is the soul that has got above the pre- 
 valence of earthly hopes and fears, desires and reHshes, 
 and can, upon good grounds, consider itself as a child 
 of God's family and kingdom, promoting its interests, 
 partaking of its blessings, only influenced by its ex- 
 pectations, and waiting for death as the door of ad- 
 mission to all its enjoyments. 
 
 If I give myself to the creature in any such wa) 
 as I know to be forbidden, I must not think that I 
 can approach God, or that he will meet me in prayer, 
 &c. Every attempt of that kind is an act of self- 
 deceit and hypocrisy. 
 
 Abstaining from evil is nothing, without an actual 
 turning to God in Christ, and tending to him with 
 the bent of my will and desire, as the rest, centre, and 
 life of my spirit. This change constitutes the idea 
 of religion, is the great work we have to transact witli 
 God, and should be the basis of all our prayers. 
 
 Wlien once I am in Christ, as a living member of 
 his body, and so joined to him as to be one spirit, I 
 am, in a qualified sense, what he was ; have the bene- 
 fit of what he did ; and shall be what he is. 
 
 I 
 
205 
 
 Nothing but a persuasion of our title to God's fa- 
 vour, and consequently to a happy eternity, can make 
 us desire and seek after it in good earnest, and order 
 all our affairs with a view to it. It is the great de- 
 sign of the Christian religion, and the peculiar ten- 
 dency of its distinguishing doctrines, to possess and 
 fill our minds with this persuasion. 
 
 Religion is seeking after the gracious presence of 
 God in the soul ; and finding him there, is salvation 
 or heaven begun. Those who have experienced the 
 two states of nature and grace, know the difference to 
 be as great as between heaven and earth. 
 
 With regard to what I read or think, the question 
 should be. Is it really interesting? Will such a 
 speculation improve me in religious knowledge, or 
 bring me nearer to God ? If it will not, discard it 
 at once. 
 
 Holiness is happiness. They are to each other as 
 cause and effect, and one necessarily produces the 
 other, at least more than any thing else can do. But 
 what passes in the world for virtue, is an arrant coun- 
 terfeit. And I believe very few of those who pre- 
 tend to it, either expect or desire to be any better for 
 it inwardly. 
 
 Christ would be loved for all he did, and for all he 
 is ; and we cannot love him for one, without loving 
 him for the other. The sense of his benefits will be 
 in proportion to the sense we have of our own sinful- 
 ness, which cannot be without an earnest desire to be 
 delivered from it. 
 
 Seeking after God for himself, is the renewed 
 mind, the single eye, the pure heart, the birth of the 
 Spirit. Seekhig after him for any thing but himself, 
 is not seeking him sincerely. 
 
206 
 
 True goodness is universal and uniform, wlicn it 
 is God's life and nature in us; like God, without 
 partiality, or respect of persons. No virtue, merely 
 human, can stand this test. 
 
 He who can say, " I am so weary of sin, as to be 
 weary of life, and even long to put oft' that flesh which 
 is the seat of it," says a great deal, though he may 
 still labour under many imperfections. 
 
 Never turn aside from any command for the cross 
 that is in it, for that is the very thing that makes 
 it a blessing, and the means of spiritual improvement. 
 The Holy Ghost is most, if not only, a comforter, 
 in the absence or contempt of worldly comforts. It 
 seems better to take the measure of our state from a 
 real change of desires, and continual progress towards 
 perfection, than any sensible communications, joyous 
 iPeelings, or high raptures. When men are taught 
 to expect these, as the great marks and seals of their 
 adoption, the pride of some will soon help them to a 
 competent share of them ; whilst others, less bold, 
 and not willing to out-run their own experience, will 
 be thrown into grievous perplexities. 
 
 The new birth is our being received by the will of 
 God into a new state of being, to the remission of 
 sins by faith, to a participation of Christ's perfect 
 righteousness, to a renovation of will by the Holy 
 Ghost. And this life proves itself, as every other 
 kind of life does, by its natural ajid proper acts, by 
 contrition, by prayer, by love, and by a continual 
 progress in holiness. Spiritual comforts, if eagerly 
 desired and rested in, may keep us from God as well 
 as earthly ones. 
 
 We greatly deceive ourselves by thinking we are, 
 
207 
 
 and have what we know, or that we can be made wise 
 and holy by other men's words and notions : whereas 
 all divine wisdom and real sanctity arises from within, 
 from the Spirit of God working at the root, and is, 
 by evolution, as a plant from its seed. Every step 
 we take higher in the kingdom of grace, we neces- 
 sarily sink so much lower in our own esteem. 
 
 When I can bear opposition, calumny, contempt, 
 hatred, and all manner of ill usage, as infinitely less 
 than my deserts, I may possibly be meek, but not be- 
 fore. The religion of the gospel is conversion by 
 the power of God ; therefore, whatever is mere na- 
 ture, or the effect of natural power, necessarily comes 
 short of it. 
 
 If we took but the same care of our inward dis- 
 positions, from a sense of God's presence, as we do 
 of our outward deportment before an earthly superior, 
 we should soon be prepared for his most searching 
 operations. 
 
 If I resign myself to the Spirit, it must be with a 
 full resolution to do and suffer a great deal. He 
 will not take me on hand upon any other terms. 
 
 Nothing can make life pleasant, but some kind of 
 acquiescence in the present hour ; from a conscious- 
 ness that we are in it according to the order of God, 
 either doing or suffering his will, or at least not act- 
 ing contrary to it. 
 
 It seems to be the great controversy among the 
 better sort of people at all times, whether a decent 
 moral life, together with a profession of faith in Christ, 
 and a regularity of outward worship, is the religion of 
 the gospel; or, a heart devoted to God, sensible of 
 his communications, and inwardly changed in the bent 
 
208 
 
 ' of its desires and affections ; or, in other words, whe- 
 ther true religion is not ahogether a work of God 
 upon the soul, distinctly known and felt in its several 
 stages of repentance, faith, and charity. The latter 
 opinion is commonly called enthusiasm ; but the for- 
 mer certainly is so, as being a false ground of trust 
 in God; but no man ever was deceived in the main 
 by the other. He is, and has, all that religion re- 
 quires of him, even though he should be mistaken in 
 ascribing too much to inward sensations and divine 
 experiences. 
 
 One credible person steadily bearing testimony to 
 the power of divine grace, in his own conversion, will 
 have a greater effect in converting others, than the 
 most learned and eloquent declaration of the same 
 truth from a thousand unconverted preachers. — 1 
 John i. 1. 
 
 It is the worst kind, and highest form of pride, 
 to think of being a Christian, or spiritual in any other 
 way, or by any other means, than the poorest and 
 most illiterate man upon earth is made such ; namely, 
 by the sole power of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 It will be a blessed time when I can go into all 
 companies with the simpHcity of a man in Christ: 
 speaking the truth in love, undauntedly, and yet fear- 
 ful of offending. 
 
 Christian morals, or rather renovation, is a glori- 
 ous idea, and it fills one with rapture to think it is 
 promised and attainable, though not fully in this life. 
 
 What is misfortune? Wliatever separates us 
 from God. What a blessing, every means of ap- 
 proximation to him ! No right opinions, clearness 
 of comprehension, or fulness of beUef in rehgious 
 
^09 
 
 matters, signify any thing to our conversion and estab- 
 lishment, unless they are from God. 
 
 The crosses and mortifications we meet with from 
 others, are a precious means of humbling, instruct- 
 ing, and improvhig us : we should be undone with- 
 out them. Madam Guyon carries this so far as to 
 say, that if we had nobody about us to plague and 
 vex us, God would send an angel from heaven to do it. 
 
 With the help of God, I will neither suffer the 
 de\'il to lurk behind the cross, nor hide it from me. 
 
 What will it profit me to be always thinking of 
 Christ, and forming acts of resignation to him, but 
 never doing any thing for him ? 
 
 The Spirit does not only confer and increase abihty, 
 and so leave us to ourselves in the use of it; but 
 every single act of spiritual life is the Spirit's own act 
 in us. 
 
 I am resolved, with the grace of God, to forgive 
 every body every thing, and myself nothing. 
 
 Is what I know and feel of spiritual things the 
 result of a new nature, or of the old only under a 
 different form, and feeding upon different comforts ? 
 
 O what shifts, what multiplicity of miserable in- 
 ventions, to quiet the poor soul, and create to our- 
 selves the paradise we have lost, in some kind or other 
 of a worldly life ! when it can only be regained in 
 God, and in the full restoration of the heart to him 
 in love and obedience through Christ. 
 
 We can never arrive at any true settlement, by 
 propping ourselves up with the opinions or experi- 
 ences of others. Rest must be the result of our fel- 
 lowship with God. Our religion, for the most part, 
 is nothing but the prophet Jeremiah's stolen words. 
 Jer. xxiii. 30. 
 
^10 
 
 " Tliou art my portion, O Lord !'* Behold here 
 the test of rectitude, of happiness, of a Christian. 
 Speak this truly, O my licart, and all that is within 
 me, or I am undone for ever. 
 
 Whenever I learn of Christ to be meek and lowly 
 in heart, surely I shall say, " Whence is this to me, 
 that my Lord should come to me ?" 
 
 Passion costs me too much to bestow it upon every 
 trifle. 
 
 Be it ever remembered, as the ground of all true 
 conversion, a truth of the utmost importance in reli- 
 gion, necessary to cause us to aim our endeavours 
 aright, and fix us in faith, humility, and dependence 
 on God, that the essence of happiness is not actions 
 but affections. Actions will follow affections, but 
 without them are wholly insignificant to our cure. 
 Consider well. Matt. v. 3—10. Rom. ii. 28, 29. 1 
 Cor. xiii. 1, 3. I have a very distinct feeling and ap- 
 prehension how the mental vices of pride, envy, and 
 wrath, war against the soul ; and that so long as they 
 are predominant, it must necessarily be in a sickly, 
 self-tormented state : but then I have not the same 
 consciousness with regard to some kinds of sensual 
 indulgence. God knows how they would hurt me, 
 though I may not. Here reason is at a stand, and 
 faith must do its office. Perhaps 1 Cor. vi. 13 — 20. 
 would help me to a right understanding of this matter 
 if 1 could come at the meaning of it. 
 
 Every man should be a sun in his little sphere ; 
 merely a creature of divine goodness, manifesting 
 God's glory, and shining without merit. 
 
 Christian holiness, that which God requires of us, 
 and offers to us, is health to the soul, and would do 
 
211 
 
 us frootl : tlie virtue we generally acquiesce in, and 
 prefer to it, is a poor thing, and leaves us just where 
 it finds us, in point of happiness. 
 
 I can never be in union with God, till I stand be- 
 fore him without guile, according to the truth of my 
 state : if it is bad, in confession and humiliation ; if 
 good, in thankfulness, desire of improvement, and 
 humiliation still for the imperfection of it. 
 
 God deliver me from sin, and give me the desire 
 of perfect purity, and let happiness come when it 
 may ! Peace outstripping real attainments, is dan- 
 gerous presumption. The truly humble man is hum- 
 ble in secret ; it is a pain to him to have his humility 
 seen and observed ; and whenever he has occasion to 
 confess his defects, it is for no other end but to take 
 shame to himself. 
 
 Let us put ourselves fully into the hands of God 
 once for all ; not only conscious of our weakness, and 
 so submitting to his power, because we cannot help 
 it ; but choosing and preferring to receive all our 
 strength of him, rather than to have it in and of our- 
 selves, if we might ; to have the root of our spiritual 
 life in him, to be actuated by his power, and blessed 
 with his happiness. Methinks we may see some- 
 thing of the fall of Lucifer, and the sin of the first 
 man, in the contrary disposition. The creature is 
 not fit to be trusted with self-ability : pride is inse- 
 parable from it, and puffs it up sufficiently, even with 
 a derived power, seen and acknowledged to be such. 
 The great St. Paul wanted a thorn in the flesh. 
 
 If we were at peace within, external things would 
 have but little power to hurt us. 
 
 If God gives internal comfort, it is not that we 
 
212 
 
 may live upon it, but to support and animate us to 
 some further end. 
 
 Have I a distinct inward consciousness of a real 
 desire to be with God ; of such a preference of the 
 heavenly to the earthly state, and such a fitness for 
 it, as that if it was offered to my choice this moment, 
 I should find myself carried thither by a centripetal 
 force, and rush into it with joy and transport ^ 
 
 Let others think as ill of me as they please, pro- 
 vided I do not think to well of myself. 
 
 We should conceive of time and eternity as dif- 
 ferent periods of the same state, or different degrees 
 of the same kind of life, requiring the same disposi- 
 tions, but always improving ; and not as separated 
 by a great gulf, and quite different from each other 
 in their interests, pleasures, and employments. This 
 would be running time into eternity, and bringing 
 eternity down to time. We should then think and 
 act like eternal beings, and live here as we are to 
 do in heaven. Let the whole world therefore be 
 divided into two great sects, namely, T'imists and 
 EternaUsts. 
 
 To-day's duty is no discharge for to-morrow. 
 Every day has its own peremptory demand upon us, 
 not only for repetition but advancement. It is a say- 
 ing of 8t. Basil, that the soul would starve, as well 
 as the body, without a continual renewal of its pro- 
 per food ; and 8t. Paul's motto, in the midst of such 
 a course of labour and activity as would quite have 
 sunk, the spirits of another man, was, forward. 
 
 I can never bear to be found fault with, or thought 
 meanly of by others, unless I am beforehand with 
 them, in thinking meanly of myself. 
 
213 
 
 I find I owe meekness, tranquillity, patience, &c. 
 to my body as well as to my soul. 
 
 We expect submission and amendment from the 
 wrong person. We should expect them from our- 
 selves. 
 
 Have a work to do daily, with a will to do it, and 
 a prayer upon it, and let that work be God's. 
 
 Submission to the will of God once for all ; and 
 then I shall have my own every day and hour of my 
 life. 
 
 Tliere can be no true peace with God without 
 faithfulness in duty, and a resolute abhorrence of all 
 sin. 
 
 Whatever good quahties you have, desire not to 
 have them seen, unless it be for the benefit of others, 
 and to bring glory to the author of them. Be as 
 good, and do as much good as ever you can, and 
 give the pride of it to the devil. 
 
 Time can only be made happy, as eternity will be, 
 by our living for and with God ; not grudgingly, or 
 barely from a sense of duty in obedience to a com- 
 mand ; but freely and with delight, as the very thing 
 we choose, and are carried to with the bent of our 
 nature. 
 
 I am resolved to receive my virtue from God as 
 a gift, instead of presenting him with a spurious kind 
 of my own. 
 
 Till we do our duty to God, we can never do it 
 to man. And what we do to others will be more 
 from spurious motives, than sense of duty or religion 
 in the heart. 
 
 " The meek shall inherit the earth." Whatever 
 other sense the words may have, they are certainly 
 
214 
 
 true in this, that the meek have much more enjoy- 
 ment of themselves, and pass more quietly through 
 the world, whatever is their lot in it, than other men. 
 What would the greatest affluence signify to a man's 
 happiness, if he had it with this condition, to receive 
 one or more wounds with a sword every day of his 
 life ? Pride and passion are that sword. 
 
 I am under a strict bond to Jesus to receive the 
 rule of right from him in all cases, and act agreeably 
 to it. 
 
 The heart can only be happy according to its bent, 
 and in the possession and enjoyment of what it loves. 
 All therefore depends upon the choice it makes of its 
 object ; and there is but one we can think of, which, 
 for power, fulness, and continuance, is sufficient for its 
 happiness. 
 
 I would not exchange the little faint effi)rts I can 
 make towards praising God, for all worldly comforts. 
 
 A tender conscience is an inestimable blessing; 
 that is, a conscience not only quick to discern what 
 is evil, but instantly to shun it, as the eye-lid closes 
 itself against a mote. 
 
 A lively sense of God's mercy in Christ, and love 
 in the heart ; is not this the Spirit's baptism of fire ? 
 And what have I to do in the world, but to get and 
 keep it? 
 
 What God commands I will do; what he forbids 
 I will not do. This may be hard work, and a cross 
 to self; but if I am not thus disposed and resolved 
 once for all, where is my obedience, and what less 
 than this can be called sincerity? 
 
 God has only one way of bringing all to himself; 
 namely, by martyrdom, or the crucifixion of our wills. 
 
215 
 
 So long as tlic animal, sensual nature is predomi- 
 nant, we can only amuse ourselves with one opinion 
 after another, but never come to the truth. 
 
 I (lid not know how much I was given up to 
 earthly comforts, till they were taken from me, and I 
 was reduced to the necessity of living upon God. 
 
 Now for a single eye and a pure heart ! now there 
 seems to be an opening to the happy time of forsak- 
 ing all ! It is only a glimpse; but if I keep my atten- 
 tion fixed upon it, it will bring me full into the light. 
 
 There is a kind of almightiness in the will to re- 
 ject sin, whenever it is pleased to do its office; as it 
 infallibly always would, if it was so free as is com- 
 monly imagined. It seems to me that the great 
 change, which the Scripture calls regeneration, or re- 
 newal to the image of God, is setting the will at li- 
 berty to execute the commands of him who gave it 
 us, and who does nothing without it. 
 
 The Spirit plies his office with great assiduity and 
 divine art ; pressing to be heard, waiting for the fa- 
 vourable season, and always ready to improve it. 
 
 A fall is God's advantage as well as the devil's ; 
 and as we incline to one or the other, we may rise 
 higher from it, or fall still lower. 
 
 The more I increase in notions only, the more 
 guilt of knowledge and pride of heart. 
 
 It will be well with me when perfection is the 
 great purpose of my life, ruling passion, and wish of 
 my heart, and I direct my efforts towards it, and grieve 
 as much for coming short of it, as natural or worldly 
 men do when they are perpetually crossed and hin- 
 dered in the darling object of their pursuit. 
 
 There is no happiness but in perfection, conse- 
 
216 
 
 quently not in this world ; for the nearer we come to 
 it, the more we grieve for coming short of it. 
 
 God made us for eternity, and his aim in all he 
 does, is to bring us happily to it. Hence the neces- 
 sity of pain, sickness, a*osses, to break the strong 
 chain which binds us to the world, and force us to 
 take part with God in his grand design. 
 
 Every man might be more useful and happy than 
 he is, if he would be contented to be employed about 
 one thing. 
 
 Better give my heart to God late than never : bet- 
 ter by force, or the loss of earthly comforts, than not 
 at all. 
 
 If I was to give all my goods to feed the poor, 
 and my body to be burned, Christ would say to me, 
 * This is not the sacrifice I want : give up that dar- 
 ling lust ; give up every sin ; give up thy will ; sacri- 
 fice thyself to be as a whole burnt-offering in the fire 
 of love, and for the joy of my salvation.' 
 
 The " poor in spirit" — are those who desire no 
 earthly distinction, covet no earthly riches, are thank- 
 ful for what they have, and think it more than they 
 deserve. 
 
 Desired to pay my subscription to the county hos- 
 pital — God's demand is upon the heart, for love, for 
 cheerfulness in giving, for activity in doing good, for 
 a great deal more than I do, for singleness and purity 
 in all things, and all for Christ's sake. 
 
 When frames are high, self is high, pride is high, 
 and faith often at the lowest. When frames are low, 
 faith is not therefore high, but self may be as strong 
 as ever, and only restless and troubled for the want 
 of its sole support. 
 
217 
 
 The will of God is my life, and dearer to me than 
 life. If I do not stand to this, I am undone. 
 
 Conversion is, when the longing of the soul is no 
 longer to sensual gratifications, or worldly abundance, 
 but simply and purely to heavenly things; so that 
 when the question is asked. Wherein do I seek for 
 rest, satisfaction, and enjoyment? the heart can an- 
 swer at once — In communion with God, through 
 Christ, by the Spirit. 
 
 We are perfect, not by arriving at a certain point 
 of perfection, but by always going on ; as a traveller 
 is equally perfect in every step of his journey, who 
 knows his way, and proceeds in it without stopping. 
 
 One sensible, experimental proof of Christ's power 
 and presence in time of conflict, of danger, or temp- 
 tation, will hardly ever be forgotten, and binds the 
 soul to him in trust and affiance, more than a thousand 
 arguments. 
 
 o 
 
 God cannot be enjoyed but as he is loved, nor 
 loved but as he is known, nor known but by Christ, 
 nor by Christ but as revealed to the heart by the 
 Spirit. 
 
 Actions, aflPections, passions, flowing from religion 
 as a nature, are a source of happiness to ourselves 
 and others ; but the contrary, when religion is sub- 
 mitted to as a task, and no love and purity in the 
 heart. 
 
 We have time enough to prepare for eternity, and 
 should be thankful that we have none to spare. 
 
 We cannot enjoy both God and sin. It is the 
 curse of nature, and horrible corruption, to choose 
 the latter. 
 
 I see plainly why I am no better : it is because I 
 K 7 
 
218 
 
 do not live more upon Christ. The more I possess 
 and enjoy his love, the more I shall study to please 
 and be like him. 
 
 The journey through life, is as Peter's walking on 
 the water ; and if Christ does not reach out his hand, 
 we are every moment in danger of sinking. 
 
 He is a happy man who is never angry; next ta 
 him is he whose anger immediately recoils upon him- 
 self for being angry. 
 
 He who is heartily troubled for his anger in godly 
 repentance, and earnestly striving against it, is per- 
 haps a more virtuous man than he who, from natural 
 meekness of temper, is seldom or never angry. 
 
 Nature says. If I may not sin, let me die ; grace 
 says. Let me die rather than sin. 
 
 The Christian draws nigh to God as a reconciled 
 Father, in the faith of Christ ; presses on to a com- 
 plete victory over sin, and the glory of the inward 
 man, in a pure and perfect heart. God to-day : and 
 what to-morrow ? God. 
 
 Thankful for Christ, thankful for every thing, and 
 always in a serene, quiet state of mind. 
 
 It is a great paradox, but glorious truth of Chris- 
 tianity, that a good conscience may consist with a 
 consciousness of evil. 
 
 The gospel precepts, or morality, are not regulated 
 in the manner of Socrates, Plato, &c. but delivered 
 to us on the authority of God ; and receiving them 
 as so delivered, is not only a better security against 
 mistake, than reason can be in its most improved 
 state ; but is our rectitude in the sight of God, and 
 perhaps the highest excellence of which the soul of 
 man is capable, as being the test of its obedience and 
 submission to the sovereign and only perfect will. 
 
^19 
 
 " No man when lie hath lighted a candle, putteth 
 it under a bushel." " From him that hath not, shali 
 be taken even that which he hath." Let me not 
 think that God hath given me abihties which he hath 
 not, or be unthankful for what he does give, or suffer 
 them to lie dead upon my hands, or take the glory of 
 thera to myself, or envy others for having more, or 
 despise any for having less. 
 
 I should be as thankful for every morsel I eat, as 
 if I was perishing with hunger, and it was brought 
 to me by a miracle : thus, indeed, it is by a great 
 many. 
 
 I shall be as happy as it is possible to be on this 
 side the grave, when I have a clear perception that 
 divine things are preferred in my esteem to all others, 
 and have taken such possession of my soul, that I 
 settle upon them with full acquiescence ; not looking 
 for rest and satisfaction from sensual gratifications, 
 worldly prospects, or comforts of any kind ; but solely 
 in communion with God, and enjoying myself day by 
 day in doing his wark, in the relish I have for spiri- 
 tual exercises, and a diligent preparation for eternity. 
 O blessed Spirit, clear up this idea to my mind, and 
 by thy effectual operation make it life and power in 
 my heart ! 
 
 The earth would be still a paradise, if we had the 
 art of enjoying it, and did not turn it into a curse to 
 ourselves by our sins and passions. 
 
 It is hardly worth while to be happy for the short 
 time of life. If you must needs be at pains about 
 it, let your first efforts be to find out the men who 
 can tell you what happiness is. He is the least un- 
 happy, who makes least account of happiness in this 
 K 2 
 
220 
 
 world; puts himself in God*s way to it; patiently 
 waits his time for it, and can see a smile on the face 
 of death. 
 
 The best thing we can do in the want of love, is 
 to endeavour, under a sense of duty, to do as nearly 
 as possible what love would. 
 
 Christ's service, and the appertinents of God's 
 worship, are the enjoyment of the day, the seasoning 
 of life, the soul's feast and proper nourishment. 
 
 No compensation, commutation, or substitute of 
 any kind, will be allowed instead of a renewed will, 
 and unreserved obedience from a pure heart. Be 
 entire with God, O my soul ! come full into the joy 
 of a pure heart, an obedient will, and upright con- 
 science. Never set a foot forward, without making 
 it a step to the New Jerusalem. I shall have brought 
 all to a happy conclusion, when God has full pos- 
 session of my heart. 
 
 A person who has taken gospel truths into his 
 mind and heart, and can think, with well-grounded 
 hope and pleasing expectation, on the joys of be- 
 lievers, will have but Httle relish for Homer, Virgil, 
 Horace, Tully, &c. 
 
 If you would be humble, and know what you want 
 Christ for, never think how much you have done, but 
 how much you have left undone. On the other hand, 
 make not what Christ has done for you a pretence 
 for doing less than you might. 
 
 Happiness is not here : it cannot be found in the 
 way of nature, sadly corrupt and disordered ; and na- 
 ture will have its share of the man, in spite of all his 
 efforts to dispossess it. 
 
 The heart is to the soul what the stomach is to the 
 
221 
 
 body ; a good or bad constitution resulting to and 
 from each respectively. 
 
 In all events and occurrences, trials and crosses, I 
 would go to Christ for advice, and power to act ac- 
 cording to it. 
 
 On earth, prayer, improvement, waiting; in hea- 
 ven, praise, perfection, happiness. 
 
 Live with God now, as you expect and wish to 
 live with him for ever, in holy fear, pure love, and 
 the perfection of an obedient will. It is an awful 
 thing to die, more or less, as we make it an awful 
 thing to live. 
 
 Those who magnify the present comforts of reli- 
 gion, and embrace it chiefly as a means of happiness 
 in this world, are only sensualists in disguise, and sure 
 to be disappointed. 
 
 A good man loves goodness in the abstract, for its 
 own sake, in others as well as himself, in God tran- 
 scendently. 
 
 God will not suffer the world to smile upon his 
 servants, lest they should fall in love with it. The 
 man who knows his business in the world, and has his 
 eye fixed upon his best interest, can welcome pain, 
 crosses, passion, hatred. 
 
 When shall I be pleased with myself? Never, 
 till I am pleased with God. 
 
 " Followers of them, who through faith and pa- 
 tience inherit the promises." If we are Christians, 
 we shall believe, desire, and long for the promises ; 
 and, as surely as we desire them, we shall prepare for 
 them in God's way. 
 
 Engaging in religion merely for the present com- 
 fort and satisfaction of it, or because it is the happiest 
 
^2 
 
 kind of life, is doing it upon a mistaken motive; and 
 if our expectations are not answered to the full, we 
 shall grow weary of it, and fly to something else. It 
 should be for eternity ; and then we shall be set free 
 from worldly desires, supported with hope, refuse no 
 hardships, wait patiently, and continue steadfast to 
 the end. 
 
 Every spiritual person, at times, is lively, and feels 
 a glow at his heart, in the exercise of faith, prayer, 
 meditation, and heading the Scriptures ; but though 
 he has the same will and desire, yet, in spite of all 
 his efibrts, is oftener dull, cold, and unaffected. I can 
 account for this no way, but by the Spirit's agency 
 and presence at one time more than another;- be- 
 cause in other intellectual acts and appearances it is 
 not so. Whatever science a man is in pursuit o^ 
 the mind is ready at his call ; though not always with 
 the same vigour, yet with very little variation or in- 
 terruption. 
 
 It is something to make the thought of Christ's 
 presence a check to every thought, word, and deed ; 
 but still it is only being an eye-servant. Would I 
 do and forbear the same things for his sake, and out 
 of pure love to his commands, if I knew he did not 
 
 see me r 
 
 When time is devoted to God, we shall have 
 enough for all other uses. 
 
 " Strengthened with might by his Spirit in the 
 inner man ;" — abstracted from the world, its interests 
 and pleasures ; singly and purely devoted to God, and 
 the pursuit of heavenly things; determined for all 
 duty, and against all sin. " Tliat Christ may dwell 
 in my heart by faith," — the joy and the Lord of ray 
 
223 
 
 heart ; the sweetness and the drawing of my heart ; 
 the cordial and the life of my heart ; so lovely, and 
 so beloved, that I had rather die than displease him. 
 " My heart is fixed ;" — to have no temptation, or evil 
 lusting, I cannot say ; not to yield to it, or fall by it, 
 I must say. 
 
 I am sensible that the Spirit will bring me under 
 a severe discipline, and carry on his work according 
 to the rule of Scripture, without allowance of one sin, 
 or dispensing with any one command. Am I in his 
 hands for such a work as this, and does he say Amen 
 to it in my heart ? 
 
 If desire of regeneration, and persevering prayer 
 for it, is not a proof of faith, it will be hard to find a 
 man who can give a better. 
 
 Get a step towards heaven ; endeavour to master 
 some evil temper, and bre^k loose from some worldly 
 tie every day. Victory over one sin upon right 
 grounds, will pave the way to an easy conquest of all. 
 
 If I was to begin my life again, what would I do ? 
 Live to God or myself? Do I not see the amiable- 
 ness, excellence, and necessity of such a disposition ? 
 What, then, is my present determination ? 
 
 What does it signify where I am ? or what can I 
 want, if I advert always to the presence of God ; see 
 him in every thing; find him in my heart; and have 
 no design in the world but of living to his will; nor 
 expectation of rest and enjoyment but in communion 
 with liim ? 
 
 My rest is not here, either in respect of outward 
 things, or the inward state of my mind. 
 
 If I do not enjoy the will of God, I shall have no 
 enjoyment of any thing else. I may have comfort 
 
224 
 
 for the remainder of life, if I can but come to a reso- 
 lution of giving up all other comforts and enjoyments 
 for the will of God. 
 
 Conquest of temptation, deliverance from the 
 power of evil habits, and a ready compliance with the 
 will of God, in answer to prayer, is a much better 
 proof of his favourable presence than joyous feelings. 
 The latter may be mistaken ; but the former are as 
 sure a mark of the divine operation and blessing, as 
 that a plentiful crop of corn has had the benefit of 
 rain and sunshine. 
 
 Sensible communications may be, and are, often 
 withheld from the best of men : the better they are, 
 the more they desire perfect conformity to the will of 
 God as their portion and happiness. 
 
 Happy man ! when that hallelujah is the experi- 
 ence of my soul — " The Lord God Omnipotent 
 reigneth !" 
 
 My cure is in the hands of God, and I must not 
 set him a time, but pray earnestly, and wait patiently 
 for its coming. 
 
 God helps us in the way of our own wills, and we 
 are never helped internally till they are in union with 
 the commandment. It is a glorious state, and happy 
 proof of our renovation, when we stand firm on God's 
 side against temptation. 
 
 How happy shall I be in the full desire — Oh ! how 
 happy in the full experience — of the grace and power 
 of Christ ! 
 
 " As yet hardenest thou thyself against me, that 
 thou wilt not let sin go ?" — See the history of Pha- 
 raoh. 
 
 The soul cannot possibly be in a state of indiffer- 
 
225 
 
 ence ; it must have a prevailing, supreme regard to 
 some object or other, as its support. The great in- 
 teresting question is, God or sensuality ? If there is 
 not a clear, positive determination for the former, the 
 latter is proved upon us at once. 
 
 We miscarry sadly in our religious progress, by 
 attempting the hardest things first. It is our duty 
 to praise God, and happy is the soul that can do it ; 
 but it is a vain thing in the mouths of those who have 
 not yet learned to have patience with him. 
 
 A plant must be set in the earth, and have rain 
 and sunshine. This is the very case of the souPs 
 implantation into Christ, and growth by him. 
 
 We could be well enough content to be rid of 
 some particular spiritual disorders, and perhaps may 
 be earnest in prayer for it ; but this is wretched tam- 
 pering with a mortal disease, and in this way we shall 
 always be unhelped. Christ's method of healing, is 
 to strike at the constitution of sin, by going to the 
 root of the distemper, and we never can persuade him 
 to begin his work at the wrong end. 
 
 Communion with God can only be upon God's 
 terms, by a perfect surrender of myself, all I have and 
 am ; my understanding, heart, will, conscience, affec- 
 tions, state, and life ; to know, do, suffer, and be, 
 whatever he pleases. God's victory is in and over 
 the heart. Being good is a different thing from do- 
 ing good, and much harder. 
 
 That any man's thoughts are raised heavenwards, 
 and his affections set on things above, is as much from 
 the Spirit's agency, and by as great a miracle, as if 
 his body was to rise up into the air. 
 k3 
 
2£6 
 
 A little farther from sin, and a little nearer to 
 God, day by day. 
 
 The comfort of the Holy Ghost is, first, his es- 
 tablishing us in the faith of Jesus Christ ; that 
 through him we have forgiveness of sins, and in him 
 are made the righteousness of God, and heirs of 
 everlasting life : — and, secondly, his working re- 
 pentance, uniting us to the will of God, and renew- 
 ing us to his image in love. The first is our chief 
 comfort here ; the latter is only a begun state, and 
 will be our glory and never-ending happiness in 
 heaven. 
 
 Grieve for nothing but sin, and for not grieving 
 for it enough ; rejoice only in Christ*s victory over it, 
 recovery to God by him, and pure devotion to him. 
 O that I may from henceforth think with horror, 
 astonishment of soul, and the most perfect detesta- 
 tion, of indulging a wish, or keeping any thing in my 
 heart that would keep God out of it ! I hope I 
 shall make a choice ; and I know what it must be — 
 God and his will, Christ and his work, the Spirit 
 and his baptism of fire. 1 Sam. vi. 12. " And the 
 kine took the straight way to the way of Beth-she- 
 mesh, and went along the highway, lowing as they 
 went ; and turned not aside to the right hand or to 
 the left :" just so I should do, go straight forward, 
 against nature, by a divine impulse, into God's land. 
 Every temptation is an opportunity of getting 
 nearer to God. 
 
 Cleave to the will of God, and turn with it con- 
 stantly, as the weathercock does with the wind. 
 
 What is the great single object, the sole end I 
 Uve for, and keep constantly in view? Is it heaven. 
 
2^7 
 
 in the way of duty and labour, whatever it cost ? or 
 a scheme of some kind or other for present gratifica- 
 tion, terminating in this world ? that is, in St. Paul's 
 words, " making provision for the flesh, to fulfil the 
 lusts thereof," no matter how decently and repu- 
 tably. 
 
 The soul is like the earth, sometimes green and 
 springing, at other times dry and withering ; both 
 powerless in themselves, and neither of them fruitful 
 without a proper cultivation on the part of man. 
 
 The Christian says, Wherever I see the will of 
 God, my own is determined at once : I account all 
 hardships light, for the joy I have in it; and oppo- 
 sition to it, hell. 
 
 I never look upon a dead corpse, and yet my soul, 
 perhaps, must one day behold my own. What an 
 awful moment ! how happy will be the sight, if soul 
 and body have lived together for eternity ! how 
 dreadful, if they have not ! and what a call is there 
 in this thought to make sure of rejoicing then ! 
 
 When my nature is renewed, I shall be in renewed 
 nature ; see the world, and every thing belonging to 
 it, in a new light, and have one foot in paradise re- 
 stored. 
 
 Confess your sins, and pray as if it was to be the 
 last time. 
 
 I shall never be any thing tUl I know I am no- 
 thing ; leave it to God to make what he pleases, and 
 seek no praise or worldly advantages inordinately for 
 myself. If I am in union with the will of God, I 
 shall see it, and advert to his presence in every thing, 
 and bless him for every thing, wind and weather, 
 crosses, sickness, death ; and, what is the hardest of 
 all, I shall do it in health and prosperity. 
 
228 
 
 If I was told that I must be ten feet high to get 
 to heaven, what should I do ? Use means, and 
 strive hard to stretch myself up to the measure, or 
 pray ? The holmess required of me, is as much out 
 of my power, and as much the work of another hand. 
 Men may counterfeit it ; but to be real, it must be 
 infused or created. In this point, we grievously mis- 
 take, or overlook, both Scripture and experience. 
 
 Life has its enjoyments, and is not the contemp- 
 tible thing we make it, but heaven upon earth, when 
 it is conducted upon right principles, directed to a 
 right end, and devoted to the will of God. What 
 would we have more, when the way to heaven is 
 through heaven ; if quiet passions, regular desires, 
 contented minds, pure wills, well-grounded hopes, 
 holy longings, happy foretastes, communion with 
 God, and reconciliation to death, can make it so ? 
 
 " Sanctify the Lord God in your hearts," — by 
 adverting continually to his presence with reverence 
 and godly fear ; considering him as always looking 
 upon the heart; trusting on his Almighty protection; 
 believing in him as a holy, sin-hating God, and re- 
 conciled to sinners of mankind only in Jesus Christ ; 
 valuing his favour above all the world, and making it 
 the settled, sole aim of our lives, to approve ourselves 
 to his pure eyes. 
 
 If I was in union with the will of God, I should 
 see whatever befalls me as stamped with it, and be 
 always in a state of enjoyment, as having the very 
 thing I desire. 
 
 " He that forsaketh not all that he hath," — all he 
 desires, loves, and is, by nature ; all his worldly pos- 
 sessions and enjoyments, so as to be separated from 
 
229 
 
 them in heart and affection, and clearly resolved to 
 follow Christ, cost what it will ; renouncing his reason, 
 powers, and tendencies, as truly insufficient to make 
 his peace with God, and conduct him to happiness, — 
 " cannot," says Christ, " be my disciple." 
 
 We do not so much as purpose to do the will of 
 God, till we purpose to do it fully. Obedience is 
 doing the will of God because it is his will ; and not 
 only so far as I see the fitness of it, or as it falls in 
 with my own way of pleasing myself. 
 
 Paul said, " I keep under my body, and bring it 
 into subjection;" — if the word soul was put instead 
 of body, it would suit the generality much better. 
 God is the Lord of my will, not sin, not the world, 
 not the flesh, not the devil. God is the great object 
 of my affections ; the joy of my life ; the portion and 
 strength of my heart ; the centre and rest of my soul, 
 to whom all my desires tend, and with whom only I 
 am at home. Lord, give me power to say this, and 
 deal with me as thou pleasest. 
 
 Begin the Christian race from the cross, and when- 
 ever you faint or grow weary, look back to it. 
 
 O for the Spirit's sense of sin ! the Spirit's sight 
 of Christ ! the Spirit's work of obedience ! 
 
 It is a great thing to say, " My will is God's ;" 
 but greater to say, " My heart is God's :" Lord, 
 have mercy on me, and help me in both ; for it is 
 only by thee that I can obey and love. 
 
 Be sure that you are in God's hands to deal with 
 you as he pleases ; and then desire nothing, either in 
 temporals or spirituals, but what he orders. 
 
 One great mistake of life is looking to the clouds 
 for happiness, instead of looking above them. The 
 
230 
 
 moment I forget God, or cease adverting to his pre- 
 sence, I forget myself. 
 
 When I fear the displeasure of God; seek his 
 favour ; set him always before me ; delight in his 
 presence ; love his will ; and make the eternal en- 
 joyment of him the hope and great wish of my soul, 
 I shall know as certainly that my nature is changed 
 by power from above, as that I did not make myself. 
 
 I read that " such a one renounced the errors of 
 Popery at such a time and place." — Have I re- 
 nounced the errors of a sinful life, and all sin, as sin ? 
 
 " Mens Sana in corpore sano ;" that is, a sound 
 mind in a healthy hody^ was a good Pagan prayer; but 
 the Christian's wish is, a right mind, let it fare with 
 the body how it will. 
 
 We are never so near sitting down in the lowest 
 room, as when we know assuredly that we are not 
 in it. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 CHARITY. 
 
 I MUST love and honour all men, notwithstanding 
 their vileness and corruption ; and though I have 
 reason to think, from what I know of myself, that 
 they are much worse than they seem to be. 
 
 To leave oflp sinning, is charity of the best kind to 
 ray neighbours. 
 
 If you would come any thing nearer happiness 
 upon earth, endeavour to live with all mankind in a 
 state of as pure love as you will in heaven. Dr. 
 Young says, " to have no one to whom we heartily 
 wish well, and for whom we are warmly concerned, 
 is a deplorable state :" — but to have a universal ten- 
 der feeling of love for mankind, as Christ had ; and 
 to regard every man as a brother, with the kindness 
 of real aflPection, as Christians are exhorted to do, is 
 certainly much better than a state of natural partial 
 love to some few particulars. Is this possible ? Will 
 it be granted to prayer ? 
 
 We cannot love others in a right manner, with- 
 out first loving God. 
 
 If my substance increases, woe be to me if all wha 
 have a claim upon me are not the richer for it. 
 
 Never rebuke any man without praying for him. 
 
 No faith, no quickening, no renovation, no liking 
 of Christ, without the love of souls. 
 
 If I hate any one, I love none truly. 
 
 Look upon every person you meet or converse 
 
232 
 
 with as one for whom Christ died. This will not 
 only keep you from all injury, but engage you to all 
 acts and endeavours of love to the souls and bodies 
 of all. 
 
 The way never to speak of any with contempt, is 
 never to think of any with contempt. 
 
 The farther a man advances in Christianity, the 
 more he sees of the ignorance, selfish baseness, and 
 corruption of mankind ; and yet the more he loves 
 them. The wisdom from above can account for this 
 seeming impossibility. 
 
 If I aim at the real spiritual improvement of those 
 I converse with, I shall never say any thing to irri- 
 tate or vex them, but keep a constant guard upon 
 myself; and if it shall please God to work mightily 
 upon this passionate haughty spirit of mine, I shall 
 be gentle towards all men, notwithstanding the great- 
 est provocations. 
 
 It is a great fault, even of good men, to expect 
 that others should be convinced of, and brought to 
 own the truth all at once, and perhaps to be angry 
 if they are not: neither considering how difficult it 
 is for such a blind and proud creature as man to see 
 the truth and own his mistakes ; nor by what slow de- 
 grees they arrive at it themselves. Little good comes 
 by disputing. Pride is generally at the bottom of 
 it, and not charity, or the love of truth ; and it is 
 seldom managed with decency and candour enough 
 to produce any good effect. Let fall a word in sea- 
 son, and wait in patience till the rain drops upon it 
 from heaven. 
 
 Though St. Paul in 1 Cor. xiii. describes charity 
 only by its effects, as exerted towards men ; yet the 
 
Q33 
 
 essence of charity, and the root and cause of these 
 effects is, and must be, the love of God. Man in 
 his natural state may love some few particulars, and 
 those perhaps not disinterestedly ; but he cannot love 
 man as such, or the human nature in general, till he 
 himself is transformed into the divine. 
 
 If we are truly foremost in the Christian course, 
 there will be no triumphing, or carrying ourselves 
 aloft upon it ; we shall be heartily sorry to see others 
 so far behind us. 
 
 I do not know that any Pagan writer ever men- 
 tions or recommends, what Christ calls the first and 
 great commandment ; namely, the love of God : and 
 yet this is the grand duty of man to his Maker, the 
 basis and essence of virtue, and the grand means of 
 happiness : when this is wanting, all our performances, 
 how specious soever, are not only uncomfortable and 
 unacceptable, but sinful. 
 
 It is a matter of no small difficulty to be silent 
 with reason on our side : and yet, for peace sake, and 
 the preservation of decorum, or, what is more essen- 
 tial, of charity and tranquillity, it is for the most part 
 necessary to acquiesce, even in things of some con- 
 sequence ; how much more in trifles, and matters of 
 ordinary conversation? 
 
 When any one is discomposed, and peevish for no- 
 thing, or mere trifles, I see immediately the odious- 
 ness of such a temper, and the weakness of mind it 
 proceeds from. Perhaps it will be my turn to- 
 morrow. Let it be a rule with me upon such occa- 
 sions, to do all I can to heal and soften, and never 
 to irritate; and especially to guard against the in- 
 fection of the disorder, and hatred of the person. 
 
S3i 
 
 Liking and esteeming others merely for their 
 agreement with us in religion, opinion, and manner 
 of living, is only a less offensive kind of self-adora- 
 tion. 
 
 Speaking ill of others at all, unless it be to pre- 
 vent mischief to religion or our neighbour, is only 
 for the sake of tickling ourselves, and those that hear 
 us, with a comparison ; proceeds from pride, and has 
 no other tendency but to increase it. 
 
 I can love nothing as I ought, till I love every 
 thing in God. 
 
 In case of peevishness, ill-nature, and unreason- 
 able passion in others, if it is possible, be unmoved, 
 be gentle and compassionate ; give place to wrath ; 
 do not irritate ; try to soften and sympathize at any 
 rate. 
 
 Love will fill up and sweeten all our time. 
 
 A true Christian cannot bear the thought of go- 
 ing to heaven alone. 
 
 The strictest observation of the law, from slavish 
 fear, or other spurious motives, never worked any 
 man one jot nearer to heaven. Without a true 
 hearty principle of love and obedience to God, we 
 are as much out of his way of happiness, as utterly 
 unqualified for it, and as destitute of real goodness, as 
 if we hved in the known continual breach of all the 
 commandments. 
 
 Must no one hope for the favour of God, till he 
 has attained to the perfection of charity, as described 
 by St. Paul, 1 Cor. xiii. ? Or does he set charity 
 before us in its full dimensions to humble us, to show 
 us the greatness of our imperfection ; to send us to 
 Christ for remission, and the gift of the Spirit ; to 
 
235 
 
 lay in us the foundation of that divine grace, which 
 must be begun here, but can only be perfected here- 
 after ? Martin Luther is positive for the latter, ad 
 Gal p. 833. 
 
 If any man takes a tenth, or a fifth part from his 
 stock to give to the poor, the remainder will be a 
 weighter seed for producing an increase, than if the 
 whole had been untouched. But then this is a deH- 
 cate affair. To give, chiefly with an expectation of 
 the increase, is traffic, and not charity. 
 
 Self neither can, nor perhaps ought to be, totally 
 excluded from religion ; but where it is the great mo- 
 tive, can there be any religion ? 
 
 If I had no other end in view in advising or speak- 
 ing my sentiments, than merely the good of others, 
 I should never do it with any degree of passion. 
 
 The desire and love of God is, in proportion to the 
 greatness and reality of 'it, the extinction of all false 
 desires, and consequently of disobedience. 
 
 The love of God and man, which is the sum of 
 goodness, and without which nothing else is so, is 
 but a sneaking virtue in the eyes of the humanly vir- 
 tuous and worldly prudent, if not totally disregarded 
 in their account of viitue. 
 
 Religious persons cannot help giving offence, and 
 are bound to it ; but if they are truly such, they will 
 never do it but for the sake of religion. 
 
 O how I long to be received into the universal sys- 
 tem of love, and to embrace every occasion of doing 
 good, as food to an appetite, and the refreshment of 
 nature ! 
 
 If an injury is done me, why should I do myself 
 a much greater by resenting it ? We da not quar- 
 
236 
 
 rel with our stomachs for being sick, or with our 
 bodies for giving us pain ; still we have no desire 
 but to gratify and put them in order again. — Thus 
 we should be affected towards all mankind ; and study 
 only their good, let them do what they will to us. 
 
 I bless and praise the Author of my being, for 
 giving me a nature capable of love, for showing me 
 the excellence of it, inflaming my desires after it, and 
 promising to give it in Christ Jesus, my Lord. 
 
 Love all mankind so well, as to love God only bet- 
 ter. Anger, spite, ill-nature, &c. are sure to vex 
 one ; namely, the subject. The surest way to keep 
 others in temper, is to keep ourselves so. Love all, 
 help all, bear with all, condescend to all ; but depend 
 on none. 
 
 No one can desire to make others Christians, who 
 is not so himself; and a true Christian cannot but 
 desire it. 
 
 Disinterested, impartial, universal love of mankind, 
 is the temper of happiness in us, and essential to it ; 
 but love of any thing as our happiness besides God 
 in Christ, is our curse and misery. Acts of benefi- 
 cence contribute nothing to our happiness, but swell 
 us with conceit, blind and corrupt us, if they are not 
 acts of love. 
 
 Let me direct all my studies chiefly to the great 
 end of serving others in love, and not merely with a 
 view to the pleasure of knowing ; much less to self- 
 applause, or the good opinion of the world. 
 
 When others are unreasonably cross to us, we 
 little think, 1st, That the devil works upon, and is 
 setting himself against us by their tempers, and that 
 now is the time for conflict and manful opposition ; 
 
237 
 
 nor, 2d, What pity is due to those who are thus in- 
 fluenced by him. Let others be what they will, I 
 must love them at my peril. Why, then, should I 
 lay the greatest obstacle in the way of it, by aggra- 
 vating their faults, or being forward to suspect any 
 ill of them ? 
 
 How glorious and happy to say truly, in case of 
 injury, " The author of it only hurts me by hurting 
 himself?" Before you resent a thing, take time, a 
 twelvemonth at least, to consider whether there be 
 any real cause for it ; and if you find there is, do not 
 deliberate a moment whether you should forgive. 
 
 Serve all with hearty good- will ; but know man- 
 kind better than to expect much love or gratitude 
 from them. Say all the good you can of all; but if 
 you would have ill spoken of any, turn that office 
 over to the devil. 
 
 The best way of being thankful to God for what 
 he gives me, is a liberal distribution of it. Love 
 every man for Christ's sake, and fear none in his 
 cause. 
 
 When I am forward to speak the e\'il I know, 
 or perhaps only surmise of others, what can it pro- 
 ceed from but a desire that they should be univer- 
 sally despised, or fear lest they should not ? How 
 diabolical ! Leave an ill report to shift for itself; 
 you need not say a word to set it forward. 
 
 I love those as my best friends who want my as- 
 sistance. If I hoard any money, it is no more to 
 me, than if it was another man's which I had in keep- 
 ing : it is only mine by being well bestowed. 
 
 Selfishness, with a measure of prudence, will make 
 a good father, husband, friend, and neighbour ; will 
 
538 
 
 perform many acts of virtue, and answer all the ends 
 of society. And what can reUgion do more ? No- 
 thing, but turn selfishness into love, and make that 
 a reality which before was counterfeit. 
 
 Dr. Young says, " There are some whom we can- 
 not love but for God's sake." It is a happy expe- 
 rience, and full proof of a supernatural change, when 
 we find that there are none whom we do not so love* 
 
 I spare to spend ; enjoy more what I spend than 
 what I spare ; and what I give, more than what I 
 spend. What I give cheerfully, and for Christ's 
 sake, is charity to myself. The farthing I give is 
 gold, the guinea I keep in my pocket is lead. When 
 Christ comes with any one to ask me to lend, he must 
 not be denied, though I know he does not always 
 intend to repay in kind. O how happy should we 
 be, if we could impart ourselves to all, in all kinds of 
 help, with the same freedom and propensity (ffro^y/i) 
 that a mother gives the breast to her child ! 
 
 1 John iv. 10. Our love is not the cause or foun- 
 dation of peace of conscience; but peace of con- 
 science, grounded on the knowledge of God's love, 
 is the spring and origin of our love to God and man ; 
 and this love in us is the surest proof of vital faith. 
 
 Let others' contempt of me, and the evil which 
 I observe in such a disposition, be a strong call to 
 me not to despise them. 
 
 If I was to read St. Paul's description of charity 
 for a thousand years together, I could not get one 
 property of it into my heart. Before charity can 
 flow out of it as from a spring, God must first cast the 
 salt of the Spirit into it. 
 
 Memorandum — To have no controversy, if possi- 
 ble, with any one but myself. 
 
239 
 
 Let who will die of those who are near and dear to 
 me, I shall still have enough left to love and be ten- 
 derly concerned for, whilst there are men upon earth. 
 
 Why should I cause uneasiness to others, by 
 reasoning or reproaches, however just, unless it be 
 theii' spiritual good; and when it can have no other 
 effect, but to inflame their passions, provoke their 
 ill-will, and disturb the frame of my own mind ? 
 
 Thank God for intrusting me with money to give, 
 and much more for a wUl to give it. Woe be to me 
 if I keep back any part of it ! 
 
 Can I, in this time of dearth, keep back a single 
 sixpence from him who shed every drop of his blood 
 for me ? Surely I have sin enough already, and 
 more than I well know how to think will be forgiven. 
 
 Fear seldom does the whole of what is to be done; 
 and besides, is unsteady. Nothing but love carries 
 a man through with resolution ; and you may as well 
 build a house on a wave of the sea, as love on any 
 thing but faith in the peace of God. Fear forbears 
 more than acts, and both under the lash ; love has 
 wants of its own, to fly to all good and from all evil. 
 When we have said all we can, it is better to do some- 
 thing in fear, than nothing without it. 
 
 The difference between carnal and spiritual love 
 is, that one is convergent, the other divergent ; one 
 is drawn to a point, hke the rays in a burning-glass, 
 the other is diffusive, like the rays in the sun; one 
 is particular and exclusive, the other is general, equal, 
 and impartial. 
 
 If there was but one person in the world whom I 
 knew to be the creature and workmanship of God, 
 and all the rest made by chance, how greatly should 
 
240 
 
 I think of that person's nature and original, and how 
 ready should I be to help him in all his necessities, 
 for the sake of the divine impression he bears, and 
 great dignity of relation ! Behold, O man, thou art 
 placed in a world of such beings ; all the offspring of 
 God, dear to him as his children, thy brethren by the 
 same high birth, and every one of them demanding 
 thy love, esteem, and utmost compassion. 
 
 The man who wants me, is the man I want. Me- 
 morandum — To do my duty to every one I come in 
 company with, and pay Christ some part of the debt 
 I owe him. " Take care of him," for Christ's sake, 
 and with a feeling of his bowels. 
 
 God intends we should be happy, and cannot ap- 
 prove of any thing in us, but what has a tendency 
 to make us so. Hence the necessity of a free obe- 
 dience from a root of love j for all force is misery. 
 
 If I consider how God loved me, who can be too 
 wicked for me to love ? To a believer, every dis- 
 tressed object is Christ's peremptory demand, or bill 
 in sight, written with his blood, for so much help, or 
 such a sum as the case requires. 
 
 Let others say and do what they will, I must love. 
 The obloquy, or ill usage of others, is my opportu- 
 nity for self-inspection ; and I am convinced, by a late 
 occurrence, how much more happy I might have been 
 all my life in a spirit of love. Not one of its pro- 
 perties, set down in 1 Cor. xiii. must be wanting. 
 
 To love mankind, knowing what they are, can be 
 nothing but the work of omnipotence, and of God in 
 man. I shall never love all mankind as I ought, till 
 I hate myself. 
 
S41 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 RESIGNATION. 
 
 Submission to the will of God, with experience 
 of his support in pain, sickness, affliction, is a more 
 joyous and happy state than any degree of health or 
 worldly prosperity. 
 
 He who had no sin, suffered for all sin ; well may 
 I, who have so much, and laid so heavy a load upon 
 him, be content to suffer a little for my own. Lying 
 awake all night — there is no sleep in hell : Rev. 
 xiv. IL 
 
 I see God in every thing ; in pain I feel him ; 
 and know he is come near to me upon some gracious 
 design. I never have so lively a sense of the being, 
 presence, and goodness of God, as in pain, sickness, 
 and suffering ; it puts me upon thinking, and I can- 
 not avoid coming to this conclusion, that it is or- 
 dained by his immediate will, and that he does it in 
 mercy. 
 
 Listead of repining at bodily disorders, think how 
 many have much greater, and how to be thankful 
 both for those you have and have not. Pain, afflic- 
 tion, &c. is only God speaking louder. 
 
 The strangury is a messenger sent from heaven, 
 to warn me home, to reconcile me to the thought of 
 death, and prepare me for a happy reception into an- 
 other word. 
 
 In pain, sickness, trouble, methinks I hear God 
 saying. Take this medicine, exactly suited to the 
 
 L 7 
 
S42 
 
 case, prepared and weighed by my own hands, and 
 consisting of the choicest drugs which heaven af- 
 fords. 
 
 If I was left to myself, I should never think of 
 crucifying sin with the stone and strangury, as God 
 does. The strangury has not done its work yet by 
 far. 
 
 Say, my heart, with respect to the stone, " I am 
 unworthy of this mercy : Lord, let it be more or less 
 painful, and the means of death sooner or later, as 
 thou pleasest, only make it a means of thy grace to 
 me." 
 
 If the cross should be laid upon me, it will come 
 assuredly to my relief; and I must be destitute of 
 grace, and dead to all consideration, if I do not re- 
 gard it as help, and an especial mercy vouchsafed in 
 a time of great danger. 
 
 A cold north wind — Have patience with God. 
 
 If my heart and will were given up to God, stone, 
 gravel, strangury, &c. would be well endured, and 
 death come with a smile on his face.* 
 
 If I am afflicted, or sick, or weak, or in pain, let 
 me not comfort myself chiefly with thinking that it 
 will quickly be over, or that I shall soon be well, but 
 rather with thinking and knowing that it is the ap- 
 pointment of divine wisdom ; for reasons of infinite 
 concernment to myself, and for the end which God 
 has chiefly in view for his people in all his inflictions. 
 
 • Mr. Darracot, a valuable minister of Wellington, in Somer- 
 setshire. He died of the stone, full of joy in Christ Jesus. The 
 torment of the stone was so greatly alleviated, that in his last 
 moments he said to his friends who stood around liim, " Is this 
 dying? — 'Tis so easy, 'tis so easy!" 
 
243 
 
 namely, the glory of his name in their spiritual 
 health and recovery : and a blessed support it will be, 
 to know and feel that I do not so much desire ease 
 and deliverance from present trouble, as grace and 
 strength to undergo more and greater, and even death 
 itself, quietly, obediently, in the spirit of faith, and 
 with full acceptance of the will of God. 
 
 This whole life is a state of labour and suffering 
 in order to our purification, and not of enjoyment, 
 either temporal or spiritual. 
 
 I believe no man is obliged to sell all he has, &c. 
 because Christ gave such a command to one person, 
 any more than he is obliged to sacrifice his son be- 
 cause God commanded Abraham to do so ; and yet, 
 doubtless, these were written for our instruction, that 
 we might be ready always to obey the severest calls 
 of Providence, — a matter of no small difficulty, and 
 which we infinitely deceive ourselves and others in. 
 It is a common thing for people to say, " God's will 
 be done," without one grain of sincerity or true re- 
 signation, 
 o 
 
 It is one point of happiness, and perhaps the high- 
 est we can attain to, to know and be fully convinced, 
 that at the best we are but poorly qualified for it ; 
 and therefore must not expect it in this life. The 
 generality of mankind create to themselves a thousand 
 needless anxieties, by a vain search after a thing that 
 never was, nor ever will be found upon earth : let us 
 then sit down contented with our lot; and in the 
 meantime be as happy as we can in a diligent pre- 
 paration for what is to come. 
 
 The world is so constituted, that obedience to the 
 commands of God is impossible, without taking up 
 l2 
 
244 
 
 the cross daily : but then, they who are unwiUing to 
 take up the cross, explam away all the trying com- 
 mands of the gospel, and that of the cross in the first 
 place. 
 
 If any thing, though ever so dear, is taken from 
 me by the order of Providence, I have no longer any 
 interest in it, or business with it. The cloud is taken 
 up, (Numb. ix. 17.) and my station is fixed for some 
 other place. God is now in the absence and priva- 
 tion of it, and if ever I find him it must be there. 
 
 It is our duty to bless God for the measure of 
 grace we have, and to rest satisfied with his appoint- 
 ment in spirituals as well as temporals. Every de- 
 gree of real grace is his gift, and the work of the 
 Spirit, who divideth to every man severally as he will ; 
 and to be thankful for lower degrees of grace, not- 
 withstanding the most ardent desires and longings 
 after the highest, is perhaps the truest as well as most 
 difficult kind of humihty and resignation : Rom. xiv. 
 
 Christ is a refiner's fire : Mai. iii. We could Hke 
 well enough to come and warm ourselves at this fire ; 
 but the business depends upon being thrown into it. 
 
 Be not disturbed for trifles. By the practice of 
 tl'iis rule we should come in time to think most things 
 too trifling to disturb us. 
 
 Till I make, through grace, a full and free sur- 
 render of myself, my heart and conscience, whole 
 state and being, to God, in simplicity and sincerity, 
 his will for my salvation and recovery cannot take 
 place in me : I shall not be steady a moment in the 
 practice of holiness. 
 
 The holiest angels are at an inftnite distance from 
 the knowledge of God ; and, therefore, there must 
 
^45 
 
 of necessity be always something in his nature and 
 acts mysterious even to them : why then should not 
 we be content with our darkness, and submit to live 
 by faith here, when we must do it to all eternity? 
 
 How can I be happy but in God ? and how can I 
 be in God, with a will contrary to, or but indifferent 
 to his ? No ([uiet in the Spirit till we settle upon 
 this basis of rest and satisfaction — acquiescences in 
 the will of God, contentedness under the accidents 
 of life, patience with the humours of all about us, 
 and cheerful submission to the demands of the present 
 hour. 
 
 God, who knows my state, and the danger I am 
 in, sends pain to warn me of it, to make me dread 
 sin more than pain, and to think how I shall ever be 
 able to endure remediless, everlasting pain. 
 
 Suffering is an excellent preacher, sent immedi- 
 ately from heaven, to speak aloud in the name of 
 God to the heart, mind, and conscience, and has 
 saved many a soul, when, humanly speaking, nothing 
 else could. If it was not for pain, I should spend 
 less time with God. 
 
 We may have some faint wish, and perhaps real 
 desire, to be freed from sin ; but not in God's way of 
 a broken, contrite heart, or some grievous suffering. 
 
 In a fit of the cholic. — Death frees from all shi, 
 eases of all troubles, clears up all mistakes, and is a 
 full answer to all my prayers. 
 
 If I had not been kept awake with the toothache, 
 I should have lost a lively acting of faith, and one of 
 the sweetest experiences I ever had in my life. 
 
 The will of God may put me to pain ; but it is the 
 will of God. 
 
246 
 
 Joseph seems to have been at the height of per- 
 fection when he resisted the sohcitations of Potiphar's 
 wife : but if he had not wanted some farther refine- 
 ment, God would never have sent him to prison. 
 
 If Mr. North's writings should be lost, and the 
 £500 I have depending upon them, it will be my 
 own fault if I do not make it a step towards heaven, 
 and receive more advantage and comfort from the loss 
 than I could from the money. The writings may 
 not be lost ; and if they are, the money may be safe ; 
 but if it is not, am I safe as to my inward disposition, 
 in a pure resignation to the will of God, to give and 
 take as he pleases ? and am I sensible that a much 
 greater cross is wanted? 
 
 The disorder of my body is the very help I want 
 from God ; and if it does its work before it lays me 
 in the dust, it will raise me up to heaven. 
 
 In affliction see the necessity of it, and be humble ; 
 see the use of it, and improve it ; see the love there 
 is in it, and be tliankful. I know of no greater bless- 
 ing than health, except pain and sickness. 
 
 If we reflect on the exceeding sinfulness, desert, 
 and horrible curse of sin, as represented in the dread- 
 ful consequences of the first man's sin, and the ne- 
 cessity of Christ's death, how comparatively light is 
 all we suffer for our own multiplied transgressions, 
 especially considering that suffering is a corrective, 
 as well as a punishment; and that, in the worst of 
 troubles, we have this hope to support us, that there 
 is redemption from all sin by the blood of Christ. 
 I know this is but a thought, and, without God, will 
 work no effect. 
 
 In the paroxysm of pain, or prospect of death, I 
 
247 
 
 can no more reason myself into a state of perfect sub- 
 mission and tranquillity, than I can think the stone 
 out of my body. God's patience is that which he 
 requires and gives, extends to every thing, and holds 
 out till death. 
 
 Why should any man complain, or think his lot 
 hard, when he has a God to live with, and order all 
 his affairs in this world, and to do so when he dies ? 
 
 I find it hard to bear and be contented with the 
 disposal of Providence in temporal things ; but much 
 harder to bear my want of contentment, with perfect 
 resignation to the ^vill of God, and be as poor in spirit 
 as I am poor in reality. 
 
 Query. — Whether it is not a high degree of holi- 
 ness in a man who sees and laments his sin, and feels 
 it as the heaviest of all burdens, to bear it patiently, 
 and with submission to the divine will, as he would 
 any other affliction, till God is pleased to remove it ? 
 
 There is no coming to God but through pain ; no 
 matter how, if we do but come to him. 
 
 I am a cow poorer, a thought richer : if I do not 
 give more, God will take more away. 
 
 God be thanked that I do pray, though but poorly. 
 I will complain to none but God, and never of God. 
 However I am crossed, or whatever I suffer, God does 
 me no wrong, intends me no hurt, designs my good : 
 I may well be patient, I must do more ; there is ob- 
 ligation in the case, I must be thankful. 
 
 Blessed be God for all his favours, and particularly 
 for the special mercy of the stone. 
 
 We are always thinking we should be better with 
 or without such a thing ; but if we do not steal a little 
 content in present cii'cumstances, there is no hope of 
 any other. 
 
248 
 
 It is our duty to bear the disorders of the mind, 
 as well as those of the body ; feeling both, applying 
 proper remedies, and submitting quietly to the will 
 of God. 
 
 Whatever God is pleased to do with me, in me, 
 for me, blessed be his will. If God gives me patience, 
 and quiet submission to his \dll, in the want of what 
 I pray for, he gives me enough, and more than I ask. 
 At all events, let the will of God be mine, in spite 
 of nature, reputation, ease, or worldly interest. 
 
 Real heart-felt submission to the will of God in 
 pain, sickness, crosses, every thing, never was the 
 work of a man's own spirit ; and when it comes from 
 above, in answer to prayer, is full amends for all we 
 can suffer. 
 
 I have just so much godliness as God gives me, 
 and no more; and it is a necessary, but hard part of 
 religion, to be contented and thankful, whether it be 
 much or little. If this thought does not keep me 
 humble and dependent, drive me to prayer, and make 
 Christ all in all to me, I know not what will. 
 
 God does not regard what he makes us suffer, if 
 he can but keep us out of hell. When I am in pain, 
 I have a strong conviction of my obligation to Christ 
 for delivering me from eternal pain. 
 
 When pain comes, God comes. Welcome pain. 
 We should bear pain better, if we did not increase 
 it by impatience, or apprehension of the issue, and 
 suffer nothing but the pain. 
 
 God's will is blessed, and whether it be for or 
 against mc, I must wait patiently, and receive all as 
 a gift ; for I find I can do nothing. 
 
 J3ear a late cross, as from God, and you will be 
 
249 
 
 prepared for a heavier, and have him bearing all with 
 you. 
 
 Come what will, God does me no harm. If God 
 lias given me Christ, what have I to complain of; 
 and how should I welcome the disease, or decay, 
 which is sent to secure him to me, and bring me to 
 him ! 
 
 Whether soap and hme-water will cure the stone, 
 I know not ; I am sure the stone will cure me. The 
 stone is an answer to my prayers. 
 
 It is hard to bear crosses, but harder to bear with 
 my own impatience. And yet if God is not pleased 
 to deliver me from it, upon my endeavour and prayer, 
 what can be more a duty than submission in the case, 
 especially as I have Jesus Christ to thank him for? 
 
 When pain comes, I can hardly think of any thing 
 but God ; when I am at ease, the heart returns to its 
 bent, the world resumes its place in it, and God leaves 
 me. 
 
 God consults my interest in every thing, not me ; 
 and though I know he cannot be mistaken in what 
 he does, I find it hard to give my consent to it. 
 
 When pain comes, it seems as if it was reached 
 out to me by the hands of an angel who is come post 
 with it from heaven ; glad of the office of administer- 
 ing to my safety and improvement, rejoicing in the 
 love of God towards me, and calling upon me to join 
 with him in blessing God for it. 
 
 God is always with me, though I am not with 
 him ; and because I do not advert to his presence, 
 he sends pain to introduce, and even force me into 
 his company. 
 
 In the strangury. — If ever I am to come to self- 
 l3 
 
2.50 
 
 knowledge, to repentance, to Christ, to God, this is 
 the way pointed out to me by a clear light shining 
 upon it from heaven. 
 
 What would thousands and ten thousands give to 
 be no more in pain than I am ? What I suffer 
 would be perfect case to them. 
 
 I never have such a lively and full conviction of 
 my weakness and absolute dependence upon God, as 
 in pain or sickness. Acquiescence in his blessed 
 will, choice of what he chooses for me, and thankful- 
 ness for the mercy, I know to be my duty, and would 
 gladly work this disposition in myself, but find, by 
 repeated experience, that I have no more power over 
 my mind than I have over my body. 
 
 By pain God drives me to prayer, teaches me 
 what prayer is, and inclines me to pray. 
 
 It is a sore trial to the soul to be deprived of all 
 earthly comforts, and reduced to the necessity of 
 living upon God. 
 
 No man, let him be ever so great a saint, resigns 
 himself to God's method of cure in suffering, with 
 the same choice, confidence, and fulness of consent, 
 that he would put himself into the hands of a sur- 
 geon to be cut for the stone. 
 
 If we do not propose to ourselves the same end in 
 suffering which God does, self-knowledge and the 
 purification of the heart, it must necessarily be with- 
 out effect. 
 
 Because I trifle with my soul, and do not enter 
 resolutely into a process of mortification, God in 
 mercy takes the matter into his own hands, and sends 
 pain to do that for me which I am not willing to do 
 for myself. 
 
<25l 
 
 God sometimes will not let me sleep, but keeps 
 me awake to catechize me ; and is always ready with 
 some new instruction or conviction. 
 
 Not a bit too much pain; with God's help I can 
 think so from my heart, take it patiently, and bless 
 him for the mercy of it. 
 
 When I suffer most, I will comfort myself with 
 thinking that I might, and that many do suffer more ; 
 and that all I can suffer is not only much less than I 
 deserve, but ordained in mercy as the means of mv 
 eternal happiness. 
 
 Trouble is the engine in God's hands to lift us 
 up to heaven. 
 
 What can I not bear with the help of God? 
 What can I do or suffer without it ? 
 
 The very point and top of resignation, is to sub- 
 mit quietly to the leading of God in the want of 
 sensible support and comfort. 
 
 The pain of pain is impatience under it, and ap- 
 prehension of its continuance or consequences : it 
 might be greatly alleviated, if we adverted only to 
 the present time, and did not add to it the burden of 
 to-morrow. 
 
 Pain comes for punishment and purification ; the 
 one I am sure I deserve, and have great cause to la- 
 ment the slowness and imperfection of the other. 
 
 If chastisement is a token of God's love, why 
 should I faint under it, or so much as desire release 
 from it, till it has done its work ? I must suffer and 
 die ; with the help of God I ivill suffer and die. 
 
252 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 I HAVE great hope from the promises made to 
 prayer, that I shall begin to live before I die. 
 
 What is the meanmg of prayer, but that God 
 would do what we cannot ? and how vainly do we ask 
 the help which we do not think we want? 
 
 The loss of prayer is the greatest of all losses ; 
 and yet how many prayers are rendered fruitless, if 
 not turned into sin, through inattention, levity of 
 spirit, unbelief, insensibihty of want, or greater de- 
 sire of something else in the heart. 
 
 No man need be miserable or unhelped, so long 
 as there is a way open to the throne of grace. 
 
 If we pray at all, we must be poor, helpless, and 
 resigned; neither thinking we have already what we 
 ask, or that we can give it to ourselves, or setting a 
 time, or prescribing a measure to God. 
 
 Nothing is more easy than to say the words of a 
 prayer; but to pray hungering and thirsting is the 
 hardest of all works. 
 
 What more need to be said of prayer, than that it 
 brings God into the heart, and keeps sin out ? 
 
 " Ask, and it shall be given you :" I ask, there- 
 fore it is given me. The consequence is infallible; 
 only let God choose the time and manner of giving. 
 
 Praying with the heart, for the heart, is praying 
 l)y the Spirit, whether with or without a form. 
 
 No true prayer is lost, though we may have forgot it. 
 
253 
 
 Blessed be God, I do not only begin to pray when 
 I kneel down, but leave not ofF praying when I rise 
 
 All prayer is hypocrisy and sad deceit, if we do 
 not ask what God would have us to ask, and really 
 desire what we ask. 
 
 We can have no grace or spiritual supply without 
 asking ; and whatever we think of ourselves, or say 
 to God, we cannot act without felt want and real 
 desire. Of those that do pray, how few pray from 
 their own sense, or any particular knowledge of their 
 own circumstances. 
 
 Acquiescence in the bare act of prayer, is a most 
 dangerous delusion, and keeps the soul from its pro- 
 per relief. 
 
 O God, give me what thou knowest to be good, 
 and thou alone knowest what is good ; give me more 
 than I can ask or think : if the reverse of what I ask 
 is what I should ask, give me that ; let me not be 
 undone by my prayers. 
 
 Many pray not to be kept from sin, but to keep 
 it ; and with a secret hope that prayer will excuse it, 
 and be accepted instead of reformation. 
 
 God does not want our praises ; but the disposition 
 to praise him is essential to our own happiness, and 
 therefore required. 
 
 I put my prayers into Christ's hands ; and what 
 may I not expect from them, when I have such an 
 advocate ? 
 
 Prayer is hving with God ; and, if founded upon 
 ricrht principles of religion, puts us upon searching 
 the heart, leads us to the knowledge of our wants and 
 weakness, and fixes us in dependence upon God. 
 
254 
 
 Nothing is more easy, as a bare duty or lip-service, 
 and nothing more difficult than the performance of it 
 in truth and sincerity. 
 
 Prayer is knowing work, believing work, thanking 
 work, searching work, humbling work, and nothing 
 worth if heart and hand do not join in it. 
 
 There is abundant comfort in the thought that God 
 has given me a desire and will to pray for the bless- 
 ings of Jesus ; whether with greater or less fervour at 
 the time of praying, it matters little as to the event ; 
 I may repose myself quietly on his word, in full assur- 
 ance that there will be a performance of all his pro- 
 mises, in life, death, and eternity. 
 
 The great mistake of prayer is, not praying as 
 poor and destitute creatures, but thinking that we 
 are, and have already in some good degree, what we 
 pray for. — See a notable instance of this in Lord 
 Bacon's prayer, Tatler^ No. 267. The Liturgy is 
 formed upon a different plan, and puts us on a better 
 method. 
 
 Be sure not to ask a little of God. 
 
 It is a great mistake that prayer is lost, or nothing 
 but formality, because we do not find comfort in it, 
 or any immediate effect from it, or pray with so much 
 fervour as we could wish. 
 
 We are on the wrong side of prayer, till we have 
 a lively sense of our condition in sin, and are con- 
 vinced, by self-knowledge, of the necessity of redemp- 
 tion from the guilt and power of it. 
 
 It is a sad mistake in religion to acquiesce in the 
 form of prayer, without obtaining, or desiring to ob- 
 tain, what is asked. 
 
255 
 
 It is an easy work to oflPcr up many prayeis to God ; 
 but who almost offers up himself to him ? 
 
 We are apt to suppose that nothing is a return to 
 prayer, but the very thing we ask ; but if there is a 
 better way of granting our request than we think of, 
 it is well for us that God will not choose the worst. 
 
 We eat for bodily strength, and for strength to 
 labour. So the spiritual life must be renewed and 
 maintained by continual supplies of grace, to the end 
 we may perform the service we owe to God. The 
 consequence is, we must pray at least as often as we 
 
 eat. 
 
 All power of spiritual renovation is from God ; and 
 it is a fatal mistake to look for it in ourselves, or in 
 books, the Scriptures not excepted. One prayer is 
 worth a thousand fine thoughts. 
 
 Let your prayer be short, and think a long time 
 before you begin, what you are going to say, and 
 what you mean by it; that is, to speak plainly, whe- 
 ther you would be taken at your word, and put to the 
 pain of having your prayers answered. It would be 
 death to the generality even of those who appear on 
 the side of religion, to receive or be what they pray 
 for. 
 
 When I pray, it is for a moral impossibility, and 
 for as great a miracle, as if I was to say, " Sun, stand 
 still." I shall never love God and hate sin as I 
 ought, till I pray better. 
 
 Want felt and help desired, with faith to obtain it, 
 is prayer ; and without these qualifications, whatever 
 is called so, is nothing but self-deceit and lying to 
 God. 
 
 We shall never be Christians, till we think as we 
 
256 
 
 pray, and always carry the same humbling sentiments 
 about us, as if we were on our knees before God. 
 
 I can expect no good effect from my prayers, till I 
 know what 1 am, and do not pray above my state, or 
 think more highly of it, and of myself, than I ought 
 to think, but sit down in the lowest room, as I well 
 may, without any fear of mistaking my place. 
 
 It seems to me, that the first thing we should pray 
 for, is a sense of our wants, with a will and desire to 
 pray according to them. 
 
^57 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SACRAMENT OF THE LORD's SUPPER. 
 
 At the time of receiving. — Lord, I here appeal to 
 thy sacrifice against my sin, to thy grace against my 
 corruption, to thy love against my fears, to thee against 
 myself. I believe thy word : I remember thy com- 
 mand: I adore thy goodness : I wait for thy salvation. 
 Give effect to thine own ordinance, and make it the 
 seal of mercy, and the conveyance of life to me. O 
 Jesus ! come to my heart. 
 
 I go to the sacrament for mercy, and strength to 
 keep mercy; to profess my faith in Christ, that I have 
 pardon and peace with God, life and righteousness 
 only by his death and merits; and to own my obhga- 
 tion to live unto him that died for me, in faith, love, 
 and self-dedication. I go to the sacrament for Christ's 
 love and likeness, for the benefit, and for the muni- 
 tion of the cross : to have the load of sin taken from 
 my heart, and any other which Christ thinks fit, laid 
 upon my back. 
 
 Was pardon, salvation, and life, received in the 
 sacrament ? Did I bid an eternal farewell to sin ; 
 and have I the poison of it expelled by the virtue of 
 Christ's body and blood ? 
 
 I go to the sacrament to leave sin behind me, and 
 receive Christ instead of it ; and if I do the one, lay- 
 ing my sins on Christ, with a will to forsake them, 
 I am sure of the other. Lord, grant me thy peace, 
 and all that comes with it, love, patience, resignation. 
 
2.58 
 
 thankfulness, deliverance from the fear of death, and 
 a hearty longing for eternity. 
 
 I go to the sacrament for the pardon of sin, for 
 the kindling of love, for the turning of my heart, for 
 the renewal of my will. 
 
 I do not go to the Lord's table to give, but to re- 
 ceive ; not to tell Christ how good I am, but to think 
 how good he is. I have a great many sins and 
 wants to tell him of, more than would take up the 
 whole day; and when I have told him all that I 
 know of myself, it is not the half, but a very little 
 of what he knows of me. I bring myself, that is 
 fcin, to him, believing that he will be all to me, and 
 do all for me that is in his heart ; and I know it is a 
 very compassionate one. I go as a sinner to the 
 Saviour. To whom else should I go, with my 
 blind eyes, foul leprosy, hard heart, and rebellious 
 will ? You tell me I must have I know not how 
 many graces and qualifications to go to the sacra- 
 ment with ; but I cannot stay for them : my wants 
 are urgent : I am a dying man. My Lord, with 
 his known kindness, says, " Come : do this : remem- 
 ber me." His invitation is qualifrcation enough ; 
 and I long to feed on him, to thank God for him, 
 to take him into my heart. I will go to behold him 
 crucified, and his blood poured out for me, in spite 
 of all my sins and fears ; and, though all the saints 
 on earth stood up with one mouth to forbid me, I go 
 to put myself under Christ's wings, and fly to him 
 for refuge from the monster sin, ready to devour me. 
 
 I go to the sacrament to know God and myself; 
 to wonder at the reconciliation of strict punishment 
 with free pardon ; to see the greatness of my sin, 
 and the greatness of my hope, in the greatness of 
 
259 
 
 the sacrifice therein represented ; to sin no more, be- 
 cause I believe there is no condemnation for my sin ; 
 to be raised as high as heaven, and humbled in the 
 dust; to be astonished at the mystery of Christ cru- 
 cified, and to profess that I know less of God than ever. 
 
 Let me be daily thinking of the sacrament, daily 
 in a state of preparation for it, daily living upon it, 
 resolving to secure my portion in the love therein 
 exhibited, by receiving it in faith and humility, as 
 love and undeserved mercy, making it my pattern, 
 and dreading the sin which could be expiated with 
 no less a sacrifice. 
 
 " Do this in remembrance of me." — Remember 
 who I am, and what thou art ; remember me as thy 
 Saviour; remember me as thy Master; remember 
 my love ; remember thy obligations ; remember me 
 as hating thy sin ; remember me as bearing thy sin : 
 remember me, and fear not ; remember me, and sin 
 not ; remember me, to five for me, by me, with me. 
 
 The day before the sacrament. — Knowing and as- 
 suredly belie\ing the promises of God made over to 
 me for the forgiveness of my sins, through faith in 
 the blood of Christ ; I do, from a detestation of my 
 sinfulness, and a hearty sense of my want of pardon- 
 ing grace, accept his covenant of rest and peace ; 
 trusting in him for the accomplishment of my whole 
 salvation, in the Way of gospel-holiness, by his Spi- 
 rit ; and resolving, \\'ithout delay, to put myself into 
 his hands for that purpose. And may the God of 
 mercies keep me steadfast in this faith and engage- 
 ment, and carry me on from strength to strength, 
 that I may be one with him, and with my Saviour, 
 and live for him, and love him with all my heart, and 
 with all my soul. 
 
260 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 PASTORAL OFFICE. 
 
 I MUST, I must incur the hatred of my parish and 
 hearers, in love to them, and for Christ's sake ; hut 
 let me be infamous, so I may but do good. 
 
 Ruling slothfulness in a minister of the gospel, is 
 a certain mark of infidelity, or an unregenerate state. 
 
 Let no man think he is qualified to seek and to 
 save that which is lost, as an agent under Christ, till 
 he has first found himself. 
 
 A clergyman, if in truth he is a follower of Christ, 
 must not expect to have any friends in his parish 
 but his converts; the rest will despise, envy, and 
 traduce him, more than they do other men. 
 
 How much better would it be, if, instead of cen- 
 suring and bitterly inveighing against the ignorance, 
 perverseness, and corruption of my neighbours, I 
 exerted myself in good earnest, according to the 
 duty of my station, and the talents which God has 
 given me, to instruct and reform them ? Perhaps 
 many a one has long been waiting at the pool of 
 Bethesda for some friendly hand to help them in, 
 and I pass by them with a stupid unconcern, and 
 leave them groaning under their misery. 
 
 There is but one right way of preaching, which 
 is, to speak the plain truths of the gospel plainly : but 
 then, this way is the hardest of all others, for it sup- 
 poses conversion in the preacher. 
 
 It is the business of a minister of the gospel to 
 preach faith, and live morality. 
 
261 
 
 I find it very difficult, if not impossible, through 
 my selfishness, to sink myself into the common mass 
 of mankind, so as to take my full share of their guilt, 
 to sympathize, to pity, to have a fellow-feeling of 
 their wants, joys, and sorrows, and be truly concerned 
 for the temporal and spiritual welfare of all. 
 
 How glorious a distinction for any man to be em- 
 ployed as an agent under Christ, in the recovery of 
 souls ! and what guilt not to attend upon it out of 
 love to him, with the same ardour and assiduity that 
 other physicians do for their fees ! 
 
 How can those preachers be supposed to bring 
 others to Christ, who never came to him themselves ? 
 
 We are greatly deceived in fancying that discern- 
 ment, or approbation of moral excellence, is posses- 
 sion, or ability to possess ourselves of it. The 
 Christian religion goes another way to work with us ; 
 and those preachers wretchedly mistake their office, 
 and abuse their hearers, who spend all their dis- 
 courses in recommending virtue to their notice and 
 esteem, without leading them to the root of their 
 disorder, and pointing out the cure. 
 
 What would a physician, who had a sovereign 
 cure for all diseases, be accounted, if he kept it a 
 secret, or was slothful in cUspensing it, or mixed 
 poison with it ? How much more criminal is a mi- 
 nister of the gospel, who thinks himself intrusted 
 with an infallible medicine for all the disorders of the 
 soul, if he adulterates it, or is unfaithful and inactive 
 in applying it ? 
 
 I may conscientiously take the wages for the work, 
 when I have a distinct consciousness that I would do 
 the work without the wages. 
 
262 
 
 To relinquish or intermit parochial labour because 
 it is not attended with success, would be terribly in- 
 excusable. Labour on ; commit the matter to God ; 
 wait patiently; get a feeling of the bowels of Christ ; 
 and die praying, " Lord, pity the people !" 
 
 The declarations of Scripture concerning the guilt 
 of sin and the damnation of sinners, may be assented 
 to, but are fully and efficaciously believed by few. 
 Hence faintness of endeavour to snatch others out of 
 the fire ; cold prayer, speaking, preaching, and writ- 
 ing, without real pity and heartfelt concern. 
 
 '* But we will give ourselves unto prayer and the 
 ministry of the word." Remember this, O my soul ! 
 it is for eternity. 
 
 A poor country parson fighting against the devil 
 in his parish, has nobler ideas than Alexander had. 
 
 As a minister of the gospel, I must either be 
 despised or hated. I choose the latter. 
 
 Am I a minister of Jesus, with his bowels for 
 souls — called — willing to be spent — regardless of 
 worldly preferment — owned of God — hated of men 
 — happy in myself? 
 
 Intrusion into the ministry for worldly ends, and 
 with absolute unfitness for it ; in great ignorance of 
 Christ ; great unconcern for the salvation of souls ; 
 consequent sloth and remissness ; squandering a large 
 income in sensual pleasures; and when I was some- 
 thing awakened, doing what I did in self-dependence 
 and self-seeking — how awful ! 
 
 Dreamed that J. M. and S. E. were under soul- 
 concern. I interpreted it as a call to go and speak 
 with them. But what shall I say to J. for not speak- 
 ing more to him, and to all others, without a dream ? 
 
Q63 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 My heaven upon earth is communion with God; 
 and therefore nothing else would be my heaven in 
 heaven. 
 
 We shall never know any degree of happiness in 
 this life, till we are settled in a clear conviction of 
 judgment, that it is chiefly hereafter, and that we 
 are in the way to it. God forbid I should ever 
 think myself at home till I am in heaven ! 
 
 Heaven is not a place or state of idleness. Per- 
 haps the highest angels have a task and work as- 
 signed them, which keeps them continually employed. 
 What is considered as greatness and happiness on 
 earth, is, having nothing to do. 
 
 Happiness will be the necessary result of gospel 
 holiness, when external impediments are removed; 
 but heaven itself would lose its nature, if the inward 
 disposition were wanting. 
 
 Our future existence will be the same kind of 
 life, or state of being, continued, which we are fixed 
 in here. Death makes no alteration in our condi- 
 tion ; it only clears up our mistakes about it. 
 
 Thankfulness and happiness imply each other. 
 We must be thankful to be happy, and happy to be 
 thankful. God's house is an hospital at one end, 
 and a palace at the other. In the hospital end are 
 Christ's members upon earth, conflicting with various 
 diseases, and confined to a strict regimen of his ap- 
 
264 
 
 pointing. What sort of a patient must he be, who 
 would be sorry to be told that the hour is come for 
 his dismission from the hospital, and to see the doors 
 thrown wide open for his admission into the king's 
 presence ? 
 
 Nothing can be our happiness in this life, but 
 what is to be the foundation of it in the next. If I 
 cannot serve God and my Saviour with delight, and 
 make a kind of heaven of it here, they have no other 
 heaven for me hereafter. 
 
 We shall never know the thousandth part of our 
 mercies, deliverances, and protections, temporal and 
 spiritual, till we come to another world. 
 
 In heaven, sin known and pardoned is the song 
 of praise ; sin known and unpardoned is hell. 
 
 If ever I thank Christ as I ought, it must be in 
 heaven ; it is in vain to think of doing it here. 
 
 Heaven is heaven rather as a state of exemption 
 from sin than suffering. We must die for perfect 
 conformity to the will of God; and it is worth dying 
 for. 
 
 Delight in the will of God is the perfection of all 
 intelligent beings, the essence of happiness, the joy of 
 angels, heaven upon earth, and the heaven of heaven. 
 
 Heaven is wherever God is; in my heart, if I de- 
 sire it, and delight in his presence. 
 
 Ten thousand years in this world would not com- 
 plete my happiness; I should never be wise and 
 good, have an absolute command of my will, passions, 
 and aflPections, without one irregular thought, vain 
 wish, or spot of sin. If we are really aiming at and 
 longing for this perfection, how desirable is death, 
 which alone can put us in possession of it ! By 
 death we do not go out of life, but into life. 
 
^65 
 
 Tlie Christian's hope of heaven is the sweetness 
 of prosperity and the support of adversity, and cures 
 us at once of all attachment to the world, or expecta- 
 tion of rest in it. 
 
 If Christ had not brought down heaven to us, wc 
 could never have raised ourselves up to it. 
 
 This world is the reign of darkness, pain, and 
 sorrow ; and we must not expect fully to find God 
 here as a present portion. The Christian believes 
 that he shall know him better, and enjoy him fully 
 hereafter. O my soul, hold fast, and be very thank- 
 ful for this sweet hope ! 
 
 " Let us labour to enter into that rest." We 
 like the rest, better than the labour of attaining it ; 
 but cannot so much as have an idea of it, if we do 
 not think it worth all the labour we can bestow upon it. 
 
 It is a vain thing to think we can take any delight 
 in being with Christ hereafter, if we care not how 
 little we are m his company here. 
 
 The highest state of the greatest saint upon earth, 
 is only a small taste or ghmpse of heaven, in the 
 first-fruits and earnest of the Spirit. The full har- 
 vest is beyond the grave, and is not to be expected 
 in this world. 
 
 When I can truly say, " Thy will be done on 
 earth, as it is in heaven," I shall long to be in hea- 
 ven that I may do it perfectly. 
 
 What is the reason that we do not keep our eyes 
 steadily fixed upon the hght of Scripture, and follow 
 it as our guide to heaven, but because we do not 
 really think of heaven as the country we are bound 
 to ; have yet other designs in the world than to get 
 M 7 
 
^66 
 
 thither, and, whatever we pretend, do not desire to 
 be there? 
 
 I long to know something, and be something; 
 that is, to die. I see the glory and beauty of perfect 
 holiness, as Moses did the promised land from mount 
 Pisgah; but, like him, must die without entering 
 into the possession of it. 
 
 " Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven;" 
 that is, with angelical love and liking, and the full 
 bent of our desire to it. A virtuous, pure, holy 
 state, is a strong tendency to all good, and only to 
 good : and if we could suppose the mind to be in a 
 state of suspense or indifference, and equally poised 
 between good and evil, it would be a bad state. 
 What, then, is man, with a natural, and morally 
 invincible propensity to evil? 
 
 Unless I see something beyond the grave worth 
 dying for, there is nothing on this side worth living 
 for. ■ 
 
 How welcome will death be to those who truly 
 mourn for sin, feel the burden, taste the bitterness 
 of it, and long for complete deliverance from it ! 
 
267 
 
 CHAPTER X\T. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 The commandment is holy, and just, and good ; 
 not only in its precept, but curse. The first is evi- 
 dent, and denied by none ; the latter is never believed 
 but by a work of the Spirit. 
 
 Let us talk no more of the constitution of this or 
 that country, and the excellence of one above another; 
 it is in every man's power, through grace, to Uve un- 
 der the best government in the world. 
 
 We may put on different clothes and different 
 looks, speak different words, and do different actions, 
 on a Sunday ; but nature will be the same that it is 
 all the rest of the week. Sunday, in our rest from 
 bodily labour and employment, in the thoughts it 
 suggests, the prospect it opens, the hope it confirms, 
 is a day taken from time, and made a portion of 
 eternity. 
 
 Dreams indicate the temper of the soul more cer- 
 tainly than they do the temperament of the body. 
 Dreams have no dissimulation ; they unmask the 
 heart, and tell me honestly what I am when waking. 
 
 A forced obedience will not make us happy in this 
 world, but may not be lost as to another. 
 
 Hell is truth seen too late. 
 
 W hat is it to me whether the Americans are in a 
 state of rebellion or not ? Why do I not advert 
 more to the rebellion of my own heart and will against 
 God? 
 
 M 2 
 
268 
 
 A partial half-religion is a state of terrible anxiety. 
 
 Why is man for ever searching after pretences to 
 wander from home ; — fixing the laws of motion ; 
 measuring the planets; prying with glasses into the 
 minutest parts of nature; and either gazing with stupid 
 wonder on what he can never understand, or, what 
 is worse, circumscribing Omnipotence, and saying, 
 " Thus it must be ;" when all the while the poor soul 
 within him, buried in flesh and blood, wants its pro- 
 per relief, begs his attention, and, being known, would 
 infinitely reward his curiosity ? 
 
 If we do not live down error, I am sure we shall 
 never dispute it down. 
 
 The eager reading even of religious books may be 
 dangerous, and a hinderance to those who are aiming 
 at the true spirit of religion, if they have recourse to 
 them instead of God. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 The foUowinir Letters and Papers of Mr. Adam, re- 
 ferred to in the account of his Life at the beginnin«p 
 of this volume, will help to illustrate the short sketch 
 
 of his character there given. 
 
 No. L 
 
 TO A LADY IN CORNWALL. 
 
 Nov. 19, 1756. 
 
 Madam, — Permit me to congratulate you on your 
 happy deliverance from the rehgion in fashion ; by 
 which I mean a creditable profession, without that 
 knowledge of the heart which brings us hungering and 
 thirsting to Christ for the relief we want, and which 
 he came from the bosom of the Father to offer us. 
 
 That such a profession may consist with a secret 
 deep-rooted love of the world, and indulgence to al- 
 most every vanity of it, we have thousands of wit- 
 nesses, who, never suspecting the goodness of their 
 state, cannot bear to have it called in question, and 
 almost necessarily dislike reproach, and hate those 
 who condemn them, by turning from their ways and 
 maxims. This is one of the greatest difficuhies in 
 
270 
 
 the way of a thorough conversion, and needs all the 
 authority of that dreadful denunciation, "whosoever 
 shall be ashamed of me," &c. to support us under it. 
 I pray God send it with all its weight to your heart 
 and mine, and enable us to make a steady confession 
 of the gospel in its truth and purity, as opposite to 
 our natural views, tempers, and affections, and calling 
 us to an experimental knowledge of God, and a new 
 state of holy communion with him. 
 
 How dehghtful a thing it is to count, and not to 
 count but feel, the Christian's gains — faith and fide- 
 lity ; peace with God through Jesus Christ ; a re- 
 newed will ; increasing love ; and hope full of immor- 
 tality ! And how short is the time of our suffering ! 
 if, upon the whole, we do suffer, and are not richly 
 compensated, even here, in every condition, by the 
 afore-mentioned advantages. Go on. Madam, know- 
 ing whom you have chosen ; and let neither your own 
 weakness, nor the frowns of the world terrify you. 
 Christ will have his grace exalted, in opposition to 
 all discouraging unbelieving thoughts from the for- 
 mer ; and a faithful acceptance of it, and establish- 
 ment in it, will make you victorious over the latter. 
 
 Never to ask ourselves what our great want is, 
 or what we should ask of God if we might have the 
 wish of our hearts, is great bhndness and stupidity ; 
 and yet it is the case, not only of the grossly irreli- 
 i^ious, but of all those who are in the practice of an 
 external form only. 
 
 The awakening of the soul from this sleep of na- 
 ture, is necessarily the first step towards a recovery. 
 
 To know that we want remission of sin, and 
 strength against it — a will to live to the glory of God, 
 
271 
 
 and mercy to save in our very best estate — and that 
 the gospel comes home to our case in every one of 
 these points, answers all our wishes, and reveals our 
 wants only to relieve them, — is illumination in the 
 understanding. 
 
 But the great w^ork is still to come, which is the 
 spiritual life of faith, or the closing of the heart, re- 
 solutely and fully, with this blessed scheme of re- 
 demption. 
 
 May God Almighty support and bless you in the 
 benefit of this redemption, comfort you in the blood 
 of Christ, and carry you on swiftly in the way of ho- 
 liness, conformity to the cross, and self-renunciation. 
 As Christ has wrought salvation by himself, and 
 gotten the victory for us with his own right hand, 
 he must have the whole glory of our recovery. But 
 though he wants nothing of ours to make his pay- 
 ment full weight, and scorns whatever we can offer 
 him by way of purchase, he expects and is well pleased 
 with the free tender of our service ; and all he has 
 done and suffered fails of its end, if it does not make 
 lis a willing people. 
 
 You, dear Lady, love the Lord Jesus in sincerity. 
 Love him more, that you may be still more happy in 
 liim, and taste more of his love. Make communion 
 with him, and access to God by him, the delight of 
 your soul, and the great end you live for. Love his 
 commands, because they are his, and then not one of 
 them will be grievous. Love his friends, because 
 they are such; and his enemies, to wish and make 
 them his friends. 
 
 I write not to instruct you, who are much higher 
 in the di\'ine school than myself; nor can I have any 
 
end in flattering you, as I am unknown. But my 
 desire is to animate you to ardour and perseverance 
 in the glorious race ; and my hope is, that whatever 
 state you are in, you will set no value upon present 
 attainments, but be always pressing on to still greater 
 heights. A progressive state is always a hopeful 
 one, because it is both sincere and self-condemning ; 
 and if it has one eye upon perfection, keeps the other 
 steadily fixed on Christ. To him, your Saviour, 
 gracious helper, and bountiful rewarder, I commend 
 you, and myself to your prayers, and am, from a far 
 country, — Madam, 
 
 Yours in Christian sincerity, 
 
 T. Adam, 
 
 No. 11. 
 
 TO THE REV. MR. BURNETT. 
 
 June 27, 1760. 
 Dear Sir, — I am letters in your debt, and shouki 
 certainly have wrote before now, if 1 had not expected 
 you every week. My wife, too, has been desiring it 
 with great good will, and some degree of impatience. 
 Alas ! she is in a very weak condition, and, I fear, 
 sinking under the infirmities of a broken constitution. 
 God ])e gracious to her. Help us with your pray- 
 ers. I hope she knows her refuge, and flies to it. 
 N'othiufj in life or death for stronfi^ consolation like 
 our great High Priest, and his atonement for sinners. 
 It is very mortifying to nature to be saved as the 
 
273 
 
 thief upon the cross was ; but there is no other way, 
 and in our best estate we are brands plucked out of 
 the fire. Settle yourself and your hearers upon this 
 ground. If our good works follow us, we are be- 
 holden to our faith for them ; and to faith, first and 
 last, for our whole salvation. I hear you are labour- 
 ing hard in conjunction with Mr. Venn, to whom I 
 desire my best respects. Go on, and the blessing 
 of God go along with you. Keep a watchful eye 
 on the risings of pride. It will beset you on all oc- 
 casions, and success or disappointment, evil report 
 and good report, will add fuel to it. 
 
 I have received a dozen franks from Lord D. for 
 the use of Mr. Venn. I suppose his work goes on. 
 Though it is a delicate affair, his light and spirit will 
 carry him through. The IVJiole Duty of Man is in 
 possession of the general esteem, and in many hands; 
 but for that very reason the insufficiency of it, as not 
 answering the title, should be laid open. To do 
 justice to it, it is perhaps the completest system of 
 Christian ethics we have. I never read a section of 
 it without being convinced by it of sin ; and in that 
 view, as well as a directory to those who are aiming 
 at perfection under Christ, it is of great use, and 
 cannot be too much commended. The apology com- 
 monly made for its defect, in not laying the founda- 
 tion of Christian doctrine, is, that it was wrote at a 
 time when faith was disgraced by practice. Ever 
 since, things have been wheeling about to the other 
 extreme ; and there has long been a necessity of in- 
 sisting on the glorious peculiarities of the gospel, and 
 reminding men that there is no possibility of being in 
 the way of duty without the love of God ; which can 
 M 3 
 
never take place in the heart without a sense of re- 
 deeming mercy. Moral writing and preaching only, 
 is destructive of morality as it concerns the inward 
 man, and has a fatal tendency to make persons even 
 of the best natural tempers, fly to an outward decency 
 of behaviour, and lay the weight of their salvation 
 upon it, instead of faith in the pardoning love of 
 God, humbling the soul, and productive of real holi- 
 ness. Mr. Venn's performance, I imagine, will, in 
 the main, be a working upon this plan ; and I hope 
 he will convince us of the necessity and great efficacy 
 of gospel principles, in order to our acceptable obe- 
 dience; and that what is too generally thought the 
 whole duty of man, is neither the whole nor the bet- 
 ter half of it, but self-deceit, and a poor substitute 
 for them. 
 
 I cannot find Rivington's letter to Mr. Venn, but 
 suppose it is of no great consequence. I hoped I 
 should have delivered Mr. Walker's Helps, Sic. into 
 your own hands, but, if you do not come shortly, 
 will send it, if you desire it. The Archdeacon, who 
 will be glad to see you, told me lately he had wrote 
 for a number of the " Ordination Question," but 
 could not get them. Pray tell me whether and how 
 they are to be had. What is become of the man of 
 Truro ? I have not heard from him of many months, 
 tliough my last letter to him was of an interesting 
 nature. 
 
 I am obliged to you and Mr. Venn for his Sab- 
 bath sermon, and heartily wish it may have an effect 
 far and near; but there were some leaves wanting. 
 It is very much to be lamented that men of learning 
 and pit'ty should ever have struck in with the cor- 
 
275 
 
 ruption of mankind, as they once did in this nation, 
 to weaken the obhgation of a command, which is not 
 only of a moral nature, as a guard and security to all 
 the rest, but more especially sacred for its spiritual 
 import, as the soul's call from earth to heaven. Cer- 
 tainly more was intended by it than only to take the 
 yoke of servile labour from off our necks ; and the 
 man has no more benefit from it than his beast, who 
 sees nothing else in it but a liberty to skip in his 
 pasture. I trust you are always in the riglit school, 
 and know that your fall and fever were the lessons 
 of the day : perhaps you find too, by experience, that 
 knowledo-e and strength are pained in the school of 
 affliction. I do, for domestic trouble presses hard 
 upon me. What is the use of this but to humble 
 us in the dust, to ground us in the sense of our weak- 
 ness, and thereby hinder us from thinking a lie of 
 ourselves ; to make us call louder, and keep us close 
 to our remedy ? Dear Sir, God bless you. Come 
 when you can; it is but a day's journey, and you will 
 be heartily welcome to 
 
 Your affectionate brother, 
 
 Thomas Adam. 
 
 No. III. 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 
 Nov. 4, 1760. 
 Dear Sir, — Perhaps you w^ill wonder when I tell 
 you I am not surprised to hear what has happened 
 
276 
 
 at H. Wherever the gospel is preached, there will 
 he mistakes even among the sincere; and opposers 
 will catch at any shadow, and invent falsehoods to 
 keep off conviction, and harden themselves in the 
 wonst of errors. " I an advocate for the merit of 
 good works !" I abhor the very sound of the words 
 from my heart, and cannot imagine what there was 
 in my sermons to ground such a misapprehension 
 upon. I thank God I have long been established 
 in the belief of the Eleventh Article of our Church, 
 not being able to find comfort or sure footing any 
 where else ; and would ask those miserable mistakers 
 of the gospel, who are for laying any other founda- 
 tion, whether they dare say in cool blood, that what 
 they think the best action of their lives, or the 
 choicest grace of their souls, will bear to be tried in 
 Ood's balance ; and if not, what will they do with all 
 the rest ? There is no trifling here ; the soul is lost 
 by sin ; and how it can be recovered by actions which 
 have a mixture of sin in them, as the best have, is 
 not to be conceived. The consequence is plain: 
 Salvation is a gift from first to last, altogether free 
 and undeserved ; and the man was never humbled, 
 never considered what a fiery trial he has to go 
 tlnough, who can think of challenging it as a debt, 
 in whole or in part. I am not vindicating myself to 
 you and Mr. V. on this point, which I suppose to be 
 quite needless ; but give you leave to mention what 
 I have said, wherever you think it may be necessary, 
 — and have pricked my finger, as the poor boy Leaf 
 did, to sign it. — See Fox, vol. iii. p. 306. 
 
 It is true, in all my discourses I endeavour as much 
 as possible to take in the whole scheme — Repen- 
 
277 
 
 tancc, Faith, Holiness ; and if insisting on the last, 
 in its clue connexion, and for right ends, is preaching 
 up works, I cannot help it. Woe be to those who 
 separate what God has joined; for, though faith 
 alune saves us, and not according to the common gloss, 
 if it works by love ; yet I contend that faith is not 
 faith, if it does not work by love, keep the command- 
 ments, and make us new creatures. My dear Mr. V. 
 will be upon his guard, and watch zealously over 
 such of his converts as would make gospel-grace a 
 pretence for sloth or low attainments, and, by not 
 building themselves up in their most holy faith, give 
 occasion to the adversaries of the truth to speak re- 
 proachfully of it : and I say farther to him, Fear not ; 
 proceed quietly and steadily in dependence on the 
 arm of the Lord. Let him tell his flock not to give 
 heed to any other gospel, by whomsoever preached : 
 if he e^^pects to have things go on smoothly, he is 
 sadly out in his reckoning. It is a poor artifice of 
 the father of lies, to set me in opposition to him ; 
 but this calumny, if despised, will die away of itself. 
 Those who are influenced by his preaching, and 
 truly awakened, will soon discover what a wretched 
 condition they are in, with respect to works ; the rest 
 must fret, and speak all manner of evil, and prop 
 themselves as well as they can with their own doings. 
 It is something remarkable, that commonly those who 
 have the fewest good works, and are evidently not in 
 a state of careful walking and working, should build 
 most upon them. Ask them what they mean by it, 
 and you will find that it is little more than that they 
 do not pick pockets, and knock down every one they 
 meet. 
 
278 
 
 I desire my love to Mr. and Mrs. V. to whom I 
 write this as well as to you, and am your and their 
 affectionate 
 
 Thomas Adam. 
 
 No. IV. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF MY WIFE, JULY 29, 1760. 
 
 If I have true charity, I need never want a wife. 
 My parish, my family, my relations, my friends, every 
 soul will be the object of my conjugal tenderness; 
 and the exercises of it, from a root of love and obe- 
 dience to my Saviour, a never-failing source of the 
 purest delight. 
 
 I find I have settled that love upon one which is 
 due to all. This is a painful stroke; but I am sen- 
 sible it is in order to another, and a more painful 
 one ; and may my God enable me to submit to it, 
 and make it effectual to his own blessed end ! Now 
 is the time for a total separation from the world and 
 the flesh, by the sharp knife of circumcision. Now 
 God calls me to a full choice of him. Now Christ 
 says to me, " Wilt thou be made whole ?'' Now 
 the Spirit stands ready with his purifying fire, to do 
 his office in me. Holy and eternal Trinity, Amen. 
 
 O my soul ! thy lawful comforts have been a snare 
 to thee, and thou hast well nigh ruined thyself by 
 creature dependence. — Know thy support. Know 
 it is thy God. Know how wretchedly thou hast 
 been deceived, and turn to him that smiteth thee. 
 
279 
 
 Lord, thou hast struck me to the ground, and 
 what wouldst thou have me to do ? I know : speak 
 it evidently to my heart. If my own rebelHous will 
 docs not oppose thy gracious design, I know I shall 
 not want illumination and help. 
 
 1 see plainly I am come to the turning point. 
 From this day forward, a life of faith or sensuaHty, 
 — of heavenly affections, or prevailing love of earthly 
 things, — of slavery or freedom, — of self-pleasing, or 
 entire devotedness to God. 
 
 One chain may bind us as fast to the world as a 
 thousand. I have seemed to myself to be above it 
 in many respects, but am sadly con\inced it has all 
 along had possession of me, and that my love of it, 
 though less discernible, was perhaps more strong, 
 through centring in one object. O that I might be 
 buried in the same grave with her ! and that, hence- 
 forth, I had nothing to do in the world but to live 
 to him that died for me, and love God with a pure 
 heart fervently ! 
 
 It is necessary for me to obliterate as much as 
 possible all such thoughts and remembrances of the 
 deceased as may augment my sorrows, make resigna- 
 tion to God more difficult, and obstruct his salutary 
 operations. 
 
 Affliction, in union mth grace, works powerfully 
 to the healing of the soul; and if the former does 
 not send us to the latter, we shall not experience the 
 healing benefit of the great Physician. I can now 
 think, if the dear deceased was alive again, what 
 would I not do, forbear, or suffer for her sake ! but 
 if I am not willing to do as much for Christ, what 
 can be the reason of it but want of love ? 
 
€80 
 
 my heart ! — Nature has had its turn in great 
 weakness. When I went into the room where she 
 was laid out, the sight of a breathless, extended, icy 
 corpse, so loved, — too much loved, — drew a flood of 
 tears from me, with many sobs. I had not fortified 
 myself beforehand by prayer, and the exercise of re- 
 sifjnation. 
 
 Blessed be God, I was more strengthened at her 
 funeral; and hope I shall always remember it as an 
 earnest of what he will do for me, upon all occasions, 
 if I fly to his power. 
 
 If I look out for ease from the present distress any 
 way but by resignation to the will of God, and desire 
 a complete union with it for the remainder of my life, 
 I take myself out of his hands, suffer without im- 
 provement, am still at tbe mercy of events, and shall 
 be unprepared for my own death. 
 
 1 have lost the dear partner of my heart, to whom 
 I used to unbosom myself without reserve, and com- 
 municate all my thoughts and cares, designs and 
 wishes, joys and griefs ; and in the want of her, seem 
 to myself as if I were left alone in the midst of a 
 Jesert. — Recall thyself, O my soul ; awake from this 
 stupor of a vain sorrow, and do not indulge a thought 
 to harden thyself in it. " Where is thy God?" 
 If thou hast him to go to, what canst thou complain 
 of? Make him thy friend and counsellor. He is 
 now inviting, and even forcing thee hito his presence 
 and familiarity. Speak as freely to him as thou 
 didst to her, and look so well to thyself that thou 
 needest not be afraid to tell him all thy secrets. 
 
281 
 
 No. V. 
 
 A PRAYER USED BY MR. ADAM IN A FIT OF THE 
 STONE. 
 
 O Lord, my Maker and Redeemer, I thank thee 
 tor all thy goodness to me, thy unworthy creature, 
 and especially for the great mercy of the stone. I 
 know thou sendest it for good, that I may make deep 
 search into myself, and improve the pain of my body 
 to the health and everlasting salvation of my soul. 
 I confess my sins are more in number than the hairs 
 of my head, and deserve a more severe chastisement ; 
 but thou dispensest thy corrections with unerring 
 wisdom, and I desire to submit myself, in all things, 
 to thy gracious disposal, and to choose what thou 
 choosest for me. O let me say, by a mighty power 
 from thy grace, "It is good for me that I am af- 
 flicted," that my life may be a continual preparation 
 for death, and death welcome, through a living faith 
 in Jesus Christ, who hath taken out tlie sting of it, 
 redeeming us unto thee by the blood of his cross, 
 and insured our justification by his resurrection from 
 the dead. 
 
 Bless, I beseech thee, the means used for my ease 
 and recovery ; for my help and trust is only in thee : 
 and if thou dost not think it fit to grant my request, 
 enable me to bear what thou layest upon me, without 
 a murmuring thought, and with perfect resignation 
 to thy blessed will. 
 
 O Lord God of my life and of all my mercies, 
 
282 
 
 deal with me as thou pleasest. Do thy own work 
 in thy own way. Into • thy hands I commend my 
 spirit. Grant me thy peace. Carry me safely 
 through all my trials ; and make it the desire of my 
 heart to know, love, and bless thee, and he prepared 
 for the everlasting enjoyment of thee, through Jesus 
 Christ. Amen. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Printed by W. Collins U Co, 
 Glasgow. 
 
Princeton Theological Seminary Libraries 
 
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