LETTER XXII.
“And the rains descended, and the floods came, and beat upon that house, and it fell not.”
To —
From the building of the chapel, for the first two years, all went on smoothly, all was prosperous and peaceable; we had set sail in the ship Adramytum, and the South wind blew softly; and having obtained this, we sailed too close by Crete. This soft wind and easy sailing is not very advantageous to spiritual mariners. Ease, popularity, and prosperity, will never do long for the believer or the Christian minister. Prayer, meditation, and temptation, or trouble, makes a good preacher; and where the former is neglected, or but slightly attended to, the Lord has always trouble in store to arouse him again.
The pilgrim’s seldom long at ease;
When on fright’s gone another doth him seize.
Hence the following declaration—“If thou shalt not watch, I will come on thee as a thief, and thou shalt not know in what hour I will come upon thee.” This is an address to the angel, the minister, and the church of Sardis. And I really think the description of that church exactly answered to our situation, as a church: I am sorry to odd, like most of the churches in the present day. This is too plain to be denied. Our summer’s day was soon clouded, an awful storm was foreboded by many, which at last fell upon us all: for, not long after, sailing by Crete, there arose a mighty wind, called Euroclydon; and when the ship was caught, and could not bear up to the wind, we let her drive, and running under a certain island which is called Clauda, we had much work to come by the boat, and being exceedingly tossed with a tempest, and neither sun nor moon, nor stars, appeared for many days, and no small tempest lay out us, all hope of deliverance being taken away, we cast fair anchor out of the stern, and wished for the day; but falling into a place where two seas met, they ran the ship aground, a part which was broken with the violence of the waves, but some other parts remained immoveable; yet, in God’s time we escaped to land; for, in the midst of the storm, some of as, in the confidence of faith, said, “We shall yet praise Him;” and though deep called unto deep, yet we knew the Lord would command his loving kindness in the day time: and even in that night his song was at times with us, and our prayer, unto the God of our lives; yet the sea wrought, and was tempestuous, till the Lord High Admiral of the Seas awoke and rebuked the winds and waves, and then there was a calm, for which we can never be too thankful. O for a heart to praise him who reigns over all his and our foes! In the year 1816 I began a course of lectures on Paul’s voyage, which required a great deal of attention, and a little more ingenuity than I ever possessed. Soon after this, alas! we were brought experimentally to understand the subject; and though we all rejoiced in the explanation and mystical sense, as it was explained, yet, neither myself nor the congregation much liked the experimental part. It is very easy to preach and hear of storms, but when we really feel them, we are ready to exclaim, “I pray thee have me excused.” Nature ever did, and ever will, rebel against the cross. Although faith sees it needful, for a season, to be under temptations, no trial can come by chance, nor does affliction spring from the ground, but man is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upwards; afflictions are of Divine appointment, not to make an atonement for sin, nor to eradicate sin from the body, but they are as useful as medicines to the body, and though painful, yet afterwards they yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness to them which are exercised thereby, no matter who the instruments are, nor what they are called, nor what end they have in view. What God aims at is to teach us wisdom; to try our faith, and that we may try him and find him faithful; to wean us from this present evil world; to let us know what is in our hearts; to display his power, love, wisdom, and faithfulness; and, at last, to break down this earthly tabernacle, and bring the souls of his redeemed to their eternal inheritance. And this is well. Surely every Christian must say
I know in all that has befel,
My Jesus has done all things well.
I am sometimes grieved that the Lord’s tried people are so much prone to look at second causes, and rebel against or resent the instruments which afflict them; it is a mercy to be enabled to forgive, freely, fully, and sincerely, those who, from bad motives, attempt to injure us; for this conduct we have the very best of examples. O for grace to imitate them. I do believe that neither priest nor Levite, neither professor or profane, had any other motives in opposing me for so many years, but what have arisen from ignorance, envy, and hatred to truth. I speak now of those who have been so long endeavouring to injure me in the estimation of the public. [110] I speak not of the excellent laws of the country. God forbid. I have always, in public and in private, spoken well of them; and if I transgressed any one law, I have as much right to suffer the penalty of that law as any other man, and more so—but I am now speaking of those gentlemen of the cloth who have endeavoured to degrade me, both in doctrine and conduct: blessed be God they have failed. “Behold, they shall surely gather together, but not by me, saith the Lord.” I consider all that these have done has been spite, and I prove it thus. How many erroneous preachers, and abominable in their conduct, have appeared since I came first into the same neighbourhood? Why not oppose them also? Why not watch their conduct—belabour them in the pulpit—make them the subject matter of preaching (for want of better matter)—search out their real or supposed faults—call committees on the subject—expend large sums of money—publish, print, circulate—run from county to county—employ the vilest vassals to carry on their nefarious conspiracies—I say, why not others become the subjects of their spleen? And even some amongst themselves, great advocates for what they choose to call practical godliness, who have been drenched in sensuality, some of whom have been exposed to the public—why not use them as they have me? I only appeal to every thinking mind, whether their cruelty could arise from any thing but spite. It cannot arise from my doctrine itself, but their wilful ignorance of it, perversion of it, or hatred to it. What is my doctrine, but—
That every believer being delivered from the law, as a covenant of works, and having the love of God shed abroad in his heart, loves every law of God, with all his renewed heart, his mind, and strength.
If this is the doctrine I preach, and I preach no other, can it be justly condemned as being against the law? Surely not. And as I have stated this as a solemn truth, that I preach no other doctrine, I only ask the reader, once more, must not my religious enemies be most awful liars, who have borne such false witness against me, upon this subject? As to the general term used—the moral law a rule of life—I do not choose to use the term, and why? Because no man in this world can make common sense of it; it is a common hacknied phrase in the mouth of every pharisaic professor, but the words will not bear an investigation. I only ask an explanation of the term. Why should I make use of words I do not understand? From my enemies I demand an explanation of it. I have read volumes of the controversy on both sides, but no one has, for no one can, explain the term. I know a certain Baptist preacher, who compels all his newly-received members to declare, they believe the moral law is a rule of life for believers; and, poor things, they are obligated in their weakness, to acknowledge this, which neither themselves nor preacher can understand. How can it be a rule for a Baptist? Do the ten commandments say any thing about Baptism; about the Lord’s Supper; about singing of psalms, hymns, or spiritual songs; or godly conversation, or forgiveness of others; or any of their church rules? Not a word. How, then, can it be a rule for a Baptist, who is bound to attend to the rules of his own society, or even of my principal adversary; does it command him to read or chaunt prayers? Has it prescribed gowns or bands, or singers, or organs? Does the moral law teach him to belie, ridicule, and use his utmost to injure his neighbour, or run to consult counsellors, to know how he can get rid of Mordecai sitting at the king’s gate; or once to be zealous for truth, and now to wink at error? I think not. I leave this to his conscience. I demand, if the moral law is a rule of life, why transgress the fourth commandment, by labour and rest on the first day of the week, instead of the seventh? If a rule, why do they not keep it? I am only objecting to the term; but, beloved, abide then in Christ and his Word; and as many as walk according to this rule, peace be on them.