I cannot write the sermon down: not a page of it. I think you never can write down on paper the things that stir your very soul. It is the things which just tickle your brains that you can put down in elegant language on paper. When a thing comes close to you, into your real self, and grapples with you, and leaves a mark on you for ever hereafter, whether for good or evil, you cannot write or talk about that,—you can only feel it.
The text was, “What think ye of Christ?”
Mr Whitefield saith any man that will may have his sins forgiven, and may know it. I have heard Mr Bagnall speak of this doctrine, which he said was shocking and wicked, for it gave men licence to live in sin. Mr Whitefield named this very thing (whereby I saw it had been brought as a charge against him), and showed plainly that it did not tend to destroy good works, but only built them up on a safer and surer foundation. We work, saith he, not for that we would be saved by our works, but out of gratitude that we have been saved by Christ, who commands these works to such as would follow Him. And he quoted an Article of the Church, (Note 4) saying that he desired men to see that he was no schismatic preaching his own fancies, but that the Church whereof he was a minister held the same doctrine. I wonder if Mr Bagnall knows that, and if he ever reads the Articles.
He spoke much, also, of the new birth, or conversion. I never heard any other preacher, except Uncle, mention that at all. I know Mr Digby thought it a fanatical notion only fit for enthusiasts. But certainly there are texts in the Bible that speak plainly of it. And Mr Whitefield saith that we do not truly believe in Christ, unless we so believe as to have Him dwelling in us, and to receive life and nourishment from Him as the branch does from the vine. And Saint John says the same thing. How can it be enthusiasm to say what the Bible says?
People seem so dreadfully frightened of what they call enthusiasm (Note 1). Grandmamma used to say there was nothing more vulgar. But the queer thing is that many of these very people will let you get as enthusiastic as ever you like about a game of cards, or one horse coming in before another in a race, or about politics, or poaching, and things of that sort that have to do with this world. It is about the things of real consequence—things which have to do with your soul and the next world—that you must not get enthusiastic!
May one not have too little enthusiasm, I wonder, as well as too much? Would it not be reasonable to be enthusiastic about things that really signify, and cool about the things that do not?
I want to write down a few sentences which Mr Whitefield said, that I may not forget them. I do not know how they came in among the rest. They stuck to me just as they are. (Note 2). He says:—
“Our senses are the landing-ports of our spiritual enemies.”
“We must take care of healing before we see sinners wounded.”
“The King of the Church has all its adversaries in a chain.”