LETTER XXXIX.
Valley of Achor, April 12, 1819.
Mr. Edmunds.
MY DEAR FRIEND,
It is many months ago since I saw you, but I hope you are still in the ways of God, looking unto Jesus. You and I have been taught to see there is nothing but misery and destruction out of Christ, nor any hope but in his word and work. The Lord has opened to us the spirituality of his law, and often reflected an humbling sense of his displeasure on the mind. Sin has been felt, and guilt has laid us low—fear, dread, and darkness has been on the soul, and bondage, enmity, rebellion, and distance, has been most sensibly experienced. These things have frequently beset me since I have been here, and although they have been painful feelings, I esteem them after they are over, as to the hungry soul, every bitter thing is sweet. But the Father not only chastens us, but he draws us to Christ. He first teaches us our lost state. I do not say the Lord communicates this bondage, this darkness and misery, but we are quickened to feel our sinfulness, and all these unpleasant sensations come on, of course; but being thus chastened, we are taught the value of Christ, by seeing our need of a Mediator, a surety, a better righteousness, and an intercessor in the light of the word; and by the spirit we see the exact suitableness of Christ, and are quickened to long for a sense of his mercy, the pardon of sin, and peace with God, in God’s own way. This we desire above all things else; and the adorable Father draws us out in holy, humble desires, fervent breathings, and earnest entreaties for the joys of pardoning love, and a gracious visit from Christ. The Father kindly guides our eyes to the promises, the invitations, the precious declarations, and kind words of the Saviour in the Gospel. These draw the heart; and as faith gathers sweet views, so hope springs up, and the fears of death and hell, with a sense of God’s anger, gradually abate. The Holy Spirit testifies of Jesus in the word, and in our hearts; gives us blessed views of his person and love, his infinite condescension, and his most blessed work in putting away sin, and fulfilling the law; conquering death and subduing hell; and as living a life of mediation in heaven for us. These things become precious, as the mind is opened to receive these truths; and as power is felt, so the fruits appear. His love is seen, and this sight under the spirit’s power melts us into nothing, produces godly sorrow, sweet repentance and humility, self loathing, and glowing love to God. This, this my dear friend is my past, and often is my present experience, and my conscience can witness to it; and as to the bad opinion which good men have of me, it once distressed me; but since I have found the good opinion of crowds has been a snare to my soul, has puffed me up with pride, and set me down in carnal ease, I am best without it. Applause does not agree with my spiritual constitution, I grow best in the valley. Can the flag or the rush grow without the mire? I wish I had never courted the applause of man, but had been a little more anxious for the approbation of God and my conscience. A good name was an idol, and the Devil has run away with mine; no doubt in many cases I have justly deserved it, and now it is my duty, privilege and mercy, to learn what God means by this trial. Hence the command, Hear ye the rod, and who hath appointed it; and the men of wisdom shall see thy name. I have taken the highest seat in God’s house, but the dung hill and the lowest form in the school suits me now. I have been building my nest in the tree of creature friendship, but this storm has blown it down, and now I am glad to embrace the rock I wet with the showers from the mountains of trouble; but I find shelter, hope, and solid rest in Jesus and his finished work. I shall be more fit to preach when I return, than I was before; but I will never preach again, till the Lord evidently calls me out. I ran once, but I ran too fast, and fell into trouble. When God lifts me up again, I shall stand more surely and safely, because I hope to stand in the Son, to abide in the vine, to continue in the truth, to keep in the love of God, and all that these expressions imply.
I trust you and your’s are growing in grace, that you still find the Saviour precious, your helper and deliverer. The Lord is with me, and I know it, and the good of it will be seen after many days. Kind respects to those who still secretly esteem me for my master’s sake.
Your’s,
Ruhamah.
LETTER XL.
Valley of Achor, June 1st, 1819.
Dear Miss Smith,
The little Poem on Friendship which I read to you, and you was so kind as to compliment, will be published shortly, separate from this little work. It is a good remark I have somewhere met with, that Friendship is a plant of too delicate a nature to grow, with any great degree of luxuriancy and fruitfulness, in the soil of the human heart; but I ever wish to prize its buds, its blossoms, its fruits, its very leaves, and above all, its Divine Root; and I have a hope founded upon the doing and dying of the adorable Friend of guilty man, that I shall enjoy this best of gifts in its eternal bloom, in a brighter better world, when the winds of scandal shall howl no more; the tumultuous waves and the roaring billows of complicated grief shall distress my already tempest-tossed mind no more for ever. I have found many acquaintance who hummed about me in the warmth of prosperity, but like summer insects, those butterflies disappeared, when the cold blasts of adversity, by reproach, struck a few of my outward enjoyments; but I am more divinely led to the enjoyment of that love which can never alter or decay. I have learned wisdom now, in some measure, to discriminate between friends and acquaintance; and although the latter have started back in the day of battle, yet the former still bear me on their hearts in the right place, and here they present me, that my trials may be sanctified to me, and to the Church at large. David had many acquaintances, but did not find a Jonathan every day. In the Church, or in the world, my trials are great; but these would not have been so (speaking after the manner of men) if all my acquaintance had been real friends.
I beg to conclude this note with a few jingling verses, with my most affectionate and grateful respects to your dear father and mother, and hope ever to bear in mind their unwearied kindness.
Had all mine acquaintance been friends,
At whose urgent request I have run,
To answer some frivolous end,
And injure me when I had done—Had all mine acquaintance been friends,
My case before God they would lay,
And, knowing his will in his word,
Have helpt me to watch and to pray.Had all mine acquaintance been friends,
They ne’er would have robb’d me of peace,
But comforted, cheer’d, and upheld,
And wish’d me an increase of grace.Had all mine acquaintance been friends,
They ne’er would have wounded my name,
But covered my errors in love,
And reproved when I was to blame.Had all my acquaintance been friends,
They’d ne’er have rejoic’d in my fall,
But pitied, and prayed, and upheld,
And for strength on my Saviour wou’d call.Had all mine acquaintance been friends,
They ne’er would have left me in woe,
But wept in my grief and distress,
And encourag’d me onward to go.Were all my acquaintance such friends
As Miss S— and her parents so kind,
My spirits much higher would tend,
While gratitude fir’d my mind.
Ruhamah.