My soul is exceeding sorrowful. I feel the loss of my dearest husband in a manner I cannot express. Four months are now elapsed since I sustained that dreadful scene, yet it seems as if it was but yesterday. Nothing can comfort me but the blessing promised in those words, "I and my Father will come and make our abode with you." Nothing short of that baptism of the Holy Ghost can heal and satisfy my wounded soul. But I will endeavour to recollect the blessings which attend even my melancholy situation, and strive by steps of thankfulness to raise my heart from gratitude to exulting praise.
First,—I have the comfort of knowing my dear love is in glory. He hath proved the victory,—his "last enemy is destroyed!" Death shall no more threaten him with the cold grave; it is conquered for ever, and shall be "swallowed up in victory."
Secondly,—I had the consolation of being with him to the last moment, and hearing him, so long as he could speak, express how comfortable he was both inward and outward; praising God often for the comfortable attendance he had in the needful hour, and many times saying to me, "I am most sweetly filled, but I do not seem for much speaking; I am drawn inward."
Thirdly,—I rejoice that he told me, "God would open all my way before me ;" and with his last blessing gave me to the Lord, saying, "Head of the Church, be head to my wife !"
Fourthly,—He feels no more from the fear of losing me. Perhaps he is nearer to me than ever! Perhaps he sees me continually, and, under God, guards and keeps me. Perhaps he knows my very thoughts. The above reflections, though under a perhaps, give me some help; but could they be confirmed by reason, and above all by Scripture, they would yield me much consolation. I will try if I can find this solid ground for them.
It appears to me no way contrary to reason to believe that the happy departed spirits see and know all they would wish, and are divinely permitted to know. In this Mr. Wesley is of the same mind, (from whose writings I shall borrow some of my ideas)—and that they are concerned for the dear fellow pilgrims whom they have left behind. I cannot but believe they are; and though death is the boundary we cannot see through, they who have passed the gulf may probably see us. Some small insects can see but a little way; an apple would appear to them a mountain, but we can see a thousand of them at once, crawling on what we call a small spot of earth. When an infant is born into this world, how many senses, till then locked up, are on a sudden brought into action, and could the child reflect, a variety of new ideas would be awakened by which it would discern such a capacity of becoming useful and comfortable to its mother, as it never before had any conception of! It could have no communion with her but by one sense, that of feeling; but now it is enabled both to see, hear, and to make itself heard by her. There was an apparent separation from the mother; but in reality it has gained a more valuable possession, which every day increases its ability of entering into her thoughts, and bearing a part in all her feelings. And may we not suppose, if the use of sight and hearing, as well as the powers of understanding, are so improved by our birth into this lower world, that some powers analogous to the above are, at least, equally opened on the entrance of a spirit into a heavenly state; though perhaps small in the beginning, like the infant, compared with the measure that is to follow
Nor doth it seem contrary to reason to suppose a spirit in glory can turn its eye with as much ease, and look on any object below, as a mother can look through a window and see the actions of her children in a court underneath it. If bodies have a language by which they can convey their thoughts to each other, though sometimes at a distance, have spirits no language, think you, by which they can converse with our spirits, and by impressions on the mind, speak to us as easily as before they did by the tongue And what can interrupt either the presence, communion, or sight of a spirit
"Walls within walls no more its passage bar,
Than unopposing space of liquid air."
But may not our reasonable ideas be much strengthened by Scripture Some encouragement on this head I have lately drawn from the account of Elijah and Elisha, (though I do not offer this as a proof, but rather as an-illustration,) for as Elijah was to enter glory without passing through death, it is probable he was favoured before with a more than common intercourse and communion with the world of spirits, as we see in the works of Providence there is a gradual ascent; and I the rather believe this from some passages in his story. Near the time of his translation, it was revealed to the sons of the prophets, who said to Elisha, Knowest thou that thy master shall be taken from thy head to-day But to Elijah himself perhaps it was revealed long before, and it seems to me, he referred to this when he was in the desert of Arabia, under the juniper tree, 1 Kings, chap. xix,—where he requested for himself that he might die, saying, (to this effect,) "It is enough, Lord, I am not better than my fathers." The prophets before me have sealed thy truth with their blood, and why should I be exempt from the common lot of man I had rather die, and come to the now! Why should I live any longer Thou hast enabled me to maintain thy cause against the worshippers of Baal; yet my word hath little weight with them. "They have slain thy prophets, and I only am left, and they seek my life to take it away." Let them have it, for it is far better for me to depart and to be with thee. However, quite resigned to the will of God, he lays him down to sleep, till awaked by an angel of the Lord, who bids him arise, and take the refreshment a watchful Providence had provided for him. Here we have no account of any alarming fear. He doth not, like Daniel, fall down as one dead; nor, like Zachariah and the shepherds, become sore afraid; but after a moderate repast, he lies down to sleep again, and then receives a second visit from his bright messenger, for aught we see, with the same steady calmness as before. From which, I am led to suppose, he was accustomed to such communications.
When his faith had gathered strength by his miraculous preservation, forty days and nights without food, full of holy expectation he arrives at Horeb, waiting a farther manifestation of the glory of God, as Moses, the giver of the law, had done in this very place before him. Nor can we suppose this illustrious restorer of the law could be totally forgetful of that prayer, "Lord, I beseech thee, show me thy glory!" The place would remind him of the great discoveries made there. What intercourse he might have with the spirit of Moses, we know not; but it is certain they knew each other some time after on Mount Tabor. Waiting thus, like his great predecessor, for a time, the glory of the Lord was displayed before him, and the question put, "What dost thou here, Elijah" In his answer to which, he seems to intimate I have nothing to do here. Israel has departed from thy ways, and why should I abide on earth any longer. Let me now come up. As a pledge his prayer is heard—he is commanded to anoint Elisha to remain a prophet in his room. And when the appointed time was come, walking with Elisha, he seems desirous of being alone, (perhaps the powers of darkness now made their last assault, endeavouring to shake his faith with regard to the great event just ready to take place,) and bids his friend again and again to tarry behind. But Elisha, unwilling to lose any part of his blessing, answers, "As the Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, I will not leave thee." He then asks him, What shall I do for thee before I am taken away Elisha answers, "Let a double portion of thy spirit be upon me." To which Elijah replies, "Thou hast asked a hard thing." Now if a double portion of holiness was all Elisha meant, it was an odd answer, for we know there are no limits to that petition. We may ask as much of the nature of God as we please, and he will do "exceeding abundantly above all we can ask or think." And no doubt Elijah knew enough of the mind of God to know that. But might not he mean, let me have the two portions of thy spirit, not only thy communion with God, but let my intellectual sight be opened as thine. Let me also discern the heavenly company wherewith we are surrounded and commune with "the spirits of just men made perfect," though as yet I only by faith behold the Gospel day
This, therefore, did seem a hard thing; for, as Elisha was to die like other men, the prophet might not know whether this favour was to be granted to him or not; and, therefore, as referring to the thing itself, he says, (as it were,) "If thou seest me when I am taken from thee," when the spiritual change hath passed upon me, then it shall be so, and then thy inward sight will be opened. But if I become invisible to thee, as to the sons of the prophets who stand afar off to gaze, it shall not be so. It is not the will of God concerning thee. But the "effectual fervent prayer of the righteous man availed." Elisha saw both him and his heavenly convoy, while the sons of the prophets saw neither; and, therefore, went on to the mountains to seek Elijah. And that this supernatural sight remained with Elisha, we have reason to believe; for, being in Dothan, and surrounded with a great host come to take away his life, his servant said to him, "Alas, master! what shall we do " The prophet at once answers, "They are more that be with us, than they that be with them;" and adds, "Lord, open the young man’s eyes, that he may see!" And "the Lord opened the young man’s eyes, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of chariots and horses of fire round about Elisha." It is remarkable this spirit which rested on Elisha was more conspicuous than that which rested on Elijah,—perhaps to prevent the thought, though the man who was to enter heaven alive was thus favoured, no other must expect it. Nay, but God, who delights to confer his greatest favours on the weakest objects, can confer on us all that which he bestowed on Elijah and Elisha. And, if under that dark dispensation, why not in this Gospel day, concerning which it is foretold, "Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams"
The apostle tells us, "We are not come to Mount Sinai," where Israel both saw the power and heard the voice of God; but to Mount Zion, where we have communion "with the general assembly of angels, the Church of the first born, the spirits of just men made perfect, with Jesus the mediator of the new covenant;" yea, and have access "to God, the judge of all." And were we better acquainted with the privileges of our dispensation, we should become, in a more full manner, inheritors with "the saints in light." But, though it is allowed we may have communion with angels, various are the objections raised against the belief of our communion with that other part of the heavenly family, the disembodied spirits of the just.
I shall consider these objections one by one. Lord, help me in so doing! Let me at least strive to comprehend something of "the length, and breadth, and depths and height, of the great victory obtained for us over death ;" give me to see a little into that truth, "we are brought from Mount Sinai to Mount Zion."
Objection the first.—If a good spirit loves those which it loved before, and is acquainted with all their proceedings, will not the sins and miseries of those they thus know and love, render them unhappy, or at least mar their happiness in some degree I answer, there are two kinds of love. If the persons they loved continue sinners, there will doubtless be a separation of spirit, yet I believe a remembrance and a pity will continue. It is said of the Almighty, that "it repented the Lord he had made man," and that "it grieved him at the heart;" and again, that "he was grieved with their manners in the wilderness forty years." Nevertheless, his own immutable happiness was not interrupted thereby. Now, as the saints yet on earth are made partakers of the Divine nature, and much more "the spirits of just men made perfect," so I should imagine their happiness would, in that respect, remain as immutable as that of the holy angels did, when so many of their once dear companions they now daily behold as devils. I cannot let it into my thoughts that ignorance makes up any part of celestial glory, or that forgetfulness can be entered into by their nearer approach to Him, "before whom all things are open and manifest;" and "in whom is no darkness at all."
But, if an entire alienation of affection from the wicked should be needful, that is no proof it is the same with the righteous’; for, if the sins of obstinate sinners would afflict them, the growth of grace in the righteous would augment their joy; and our Lord himself tells us, "There is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth." If you say, But this joy is only among the angels; I answer, Can we suppose those faithful attendants on the heirs of salvation so carefully to conceal this joy within their own bosoms as to exclude the heavenly spirits who stand in a much nearer relation to us Can we believe they have not all their joys in common No, no; in the Church of Jerusalem they proved that "great grace was upon them all," by their community of goods. And shall our narrow hearts let in the thought that they have not all their joys in common in the Church above Yea, verily," the general assembly of angels, the Church of the first born," and " the spirits of just men made perfect," are but one innumerable company, concerning whom it may well be said,—
"Lift your eyes of faith, and see
Saints and angels join’d in one
What a countless company
Stands before yon dazzling throne!"
If, then, there is joy throughout all the realms above, yea, "more joy over one sinner that repenteth, than over the ninety and nine which went not astray," how evident it is to an impartial eye, that the state both of the one and the other must be known there, together with the progress of each individual.
Objection the second.—Is not a spirit divested of the body, become of a quite different nature from what it was before, so as to be incapable of the same feelings I answer, Certainly no; the spirit is the man. The spirit of my dear husband loved and cared for me, and longed above every other desire for my spiritual advancement. Now, if it were the body, why doth it not love me still You answer, Because it is dead. That is to say, the spirit is gone from it; therefore, that which loved me is gone from it. And what is that but the spirit, which actuated the body, as the clock-work does the hand which tells the hour It therefore appears quite clear to me, that every right affection, sentiment, and feeling of mind, we have been exercised in here, will remain in the spirit just the same immediately after death. Nevertheless, as with the righteous, heavenly light and love will daily grow stronger, and with the wicked will be an increasing darkness, so there may be, perhaps, in a few days, a much greater change on the newly glorified spirit, than in the understanding of a child in seven years. The point therefore to be considered is, Will not a continuance and growth in the heavenly state erase those affections and ideas so strongly impressed on the spirit at its first entrance therein To which I reply, As spiritual union arises from a communication of the love which flows from the heart of Christ, I cannot but believe a nearer approach to its centre, and a fuller measure of that Divine principle, must increase, and not diminish, the union between kindred souls; and that their change will consist, not in the loss, but in the improvement of all that is good.
Whatever agrees with the nature of heaven cannot be destroyed, but increased by their abode therein. Now are not love and gratitude natives of heaven, which dwell for ever there If in our present state an abundance of grace is poured out on the soul, what is the effect Doth it make us forgetful of kindnesses received Doth it not rather raise the soul to such a pitch of gratitude, that it is ready to see favours where really there are none And shall not the same love, when perfected in heaven, have the same effect in a more perfect degree The mistake lies here; we forget that Christian love and union below are the same in kind, though not in degree, with those above; and we might as well suppose, when we enter into the realms of light, that we shall plunge into darkness for want of the natural sun, as to suppose that Christian love and union must be destroyed by an abode in that kingdom, where the very element we breathe shall be eternal love. Doubtless we shall know, and gratefully acknowledge, the ministering spirits who have served us here, and be sensible that gratitude is immortal, and does not change its sentiments with its place. I think all this is clear from those words of our Lord, "Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, that when ye fail on earth, they," viz., those whom you have helped, "may receive you into everlasting habitations."
Objection the third.—But are they not so taken up with admiring Jesus, as to lose every other affection in him I answer—That love of Jesus which fills the soul with the admiration of his graces, is a love begotten by that which reigns in the heart of Christ himself; consequently it is of the same nature. But is the love of Jesus a barren and inactive love Did it produce in our Lord such an enjoyment of his own pure nature—or such a shutting up in the glories and delights of the Trinity, as to render him forgetful of his creatures Or did it bring him down to "die for his enemies, and receive gifts for the rebellious" When a powerful effusion of grace is poured out on our souls, are we not then most willing and ready to help our neighbour, and to cry out with that good woman, Jane Muncy, "Methinks I am all spirit! I have no rest day or night but in gathering souls to God." Surely, then, we may with safety believe that a holy, unembodied spirit feels the same effect from a fuller effusion of the same love; and that as soon as he hears that word, "I will give thee many things to be faithful over," he immediately enters more fully than ever into the joy of his Lord, which is the joy of doing his creatures good.
Objection the fourth.—But though it may be allowed that the angels are ministering spirits to the saints, in honour of their Lord, who hath taken our nature upon him, we do not know but the spirits of just men made perfect, being of a higher order by their near relation to their Head, may be exempt from that servitude. I answer— To this objection may not those words of our Lord be applied, "Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of" "He that will be greatest, let him be servant," saith Jesus Christ, who came himself" not to be ministered unto, but to minister ;" and if our Lord washed our feet, shall we be above the same employment Jesus, our Master, though in his glorified state, calls himself the "Shepherd of his sheep," and walks with jealous care amid his "candlesticks of gold, holding the stars in his right hand;" and I can no more believe the divinest spirit in glory above the service of mankind, than I can believe there is pride in heaven. Abraham is represented as receiving Lazarus to his bosom, and as giving a mild answer even to a damned spirit! And when souls at the foot of the altar cried, How long they were told "to wait till their fellow servants came also." Did they not then remember their fellow servants When the heart is full of grace, it delights in the meanest office, and feels pleasure in yielding happiness even to an insect. We are sensible no part of our worship is more pleasant in the sight of God than obedience, and no employment more delightful to the saints than that of promoting the glory of God. Now the Lord hath said of his creatures, "I have created thee for my glory; I have formed thee for my praise!" Shall not then the blessed spirits be very zealous in promoting that glory The glory of God and our interest are inseparably one. And are they not "one spirit with the Lord" And is not their highest delight in that in which he most delights, which is the salvation of his people So that an exemption from serving the Church would rather create pain than give satisfaction.
Again, the highest honour that can be conferred on a creature, is to have the nearest resemblance to its creating Head. Now he hath said to the believer, "I will dwell with you—I will come and make my abode with you." The soul who hath felt a small degree of pure love can answer this objection at once from the feelings of his own heart; the language of which is, I love him continually, and therefore I will feed his lambs.
Objection the fifth.—But as paradise is a place, as well as a state, and finite beings are not omnipresent any more than omnipotent, how can they be there and here in the same moment I answer—I do not suppose they can. But if I were to tell you of a minister who daily visited his flock, inquired into all their concerns, and knew their whole situation, would you say it was impossible, because he lives in that house, which is his home, and he cannot be in two places at the same time And yet it is certain we are perfectly acquainted with the situation of many who do not live with us in the same house. If we see them but once a week, our shallow capacities can take in all they tell us of their past and present state. But if, instead of waiting for the slow and imperfect conveyance of words, we could by a cast of the eye read every thought in a moment, and without labour visit them as easily as the sun shines in at their windows, (though it still remains in its proper place,) our acquaintance would be much more perfect. We are now in the body, and have senses and faculties suited thereto; therefore our human eye can at once measure the body of our child, and discern every wound or bruise, or even a speck of dirt thereon. And have not spirits faculties suited to spirits, by which we may suppose they can as easily discern your soul, as you could discern their body when they were in the same state as yourself And may there not be a way by which a spirit actually before the throne of God may still see and serve the souls committed to its care, supposing them to act as ministering spirits
I ask, If you had never heard of a looking glass, would you understand me if I said, Though you stand at one end of that long gallery, and I at the other, with my back toward you, I can discern your every action and motion, and know every change And yet such a knowledge the looking glass would convey to me. Now, if all things on earth are patterns or shadows of those above, may not something analogous to the glass represent to the world of spirits as just a picture of the changes of posture in the spirit, as the glass does those of the body Some have supposed the appearance or representation of every soul still in the body to be constantly seen in heaven. That this may be without the knowledge of the person concerned is evident; because Ananias knew nothing till God said to him, (speaking of Saul,) "Behold, he prayeth; and hath seen in a vision a man named Ananias coming in, and putting his hand on him, that he might receive his sight." Various dreams of pious persons, who have thought they saw their appearances in paradise, over which the heavenly company mourned or rejoiced—as well as the amazing instances of second sight—seem to strengthen this opinion.
If this seem strange, let us consider how strange it would appear to us, if we had never heard of letters, to be informed there was a method among many nations of wrapping up their thoughts in a bit of paper, and by that means conveying them hundreds of miles into the bosom of their dearest friends! As little could you conceive of the faculty of speech had you never known it; or the commanding knowledge which the eye gives you over a large space and a number of persons in one moment, had you been born blind. But though I mention these similes, because some can only conceive of spiritual matters by gross ideas, I believe our union to be far more close with the heavenly host than to need these representations. What else doth those words of the apostle mean, "We are come to the general assembly, to the Church of the first-born, and to the spirits of just men made perfect" And if " He maketh his angels spirits, and his ministers a flame of fire," cannot a spirit be with me in a moment, as easily as a stroke from an electrical machine can convey the fire for many miles in one moment, through thousands of bodies, if properly linked together That the devils are about us and know our thoughts is evident. A sinful thought is suggested; we answer it by Scripture. Immediately it is answered again. And shall not departed happy spirits, who are so much more of one nature with us, have the same power Mr. Wesley has a beautiful observation in his sermon on those words, "Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation" He says, "That the guardian angels know our thoughts seems clear from the nature of their charge, which is certainly first for the soul, and but in a secondary sense for the body." And are not our kindred spirits more nearly related to us than the angels Why then should they not have the same discernment
But to return to our first question. Can they be here and in paradise at the same time Otherwise, how can they constantly minister to us Perhaps we shall not be able to comprehend this till that word is accomplished, "Then shall we know even as also we are known." But if this cannot be, then we must give up all the agency of angels, for the same argument will hold good against that. And yet our Lord hath said, "Despise not these little ones; for I say unto you, in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father who is in heaven."
Objection the sixth.—But is it not said of the dead, "They are gone into the land where all things are forgotten" And is it not the design of the Almighty that our union should cease with our life, and that death should divide us As to the first part of the objection, I allow there is in Psalm eighty-eight an expression which implies forgetfulness; but I think it is spoken of the body, which will remain in this state of forgetfulness till reanimated by the spirit. But what has that to do with the soul We hear of the souls at the foot of the altar, who cried, "How long, O Lord, till thou judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth" And they were told "to rest till their brethren and fellow servants should be slain as they were." Here was a remembrance both of friends and enemies, as also of the manner of their own death. Again, "the four living creatures, and the twenty-four elders" in their song of praise, have these words, "Thou art worthy, for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation." They are also emblematically represented as having "vials full of incense in their hand, which are the prayers of the saints:" wherewith surely their desires (and consequently remembrance) are joined. Abraham is called the father of the faithful, because of his steadfast belief of the promise concerning Isaac, and is set forth as an example to us. Can we believe him to have forgotten that whole event Certainly the angel who called to Abraham, and said, "Lay not thy hand on the lad," remembers it; for we cannot suppose him to have passed through any change of nature since that time.
If you say it was the Angel of the covenant, yet doubtless many of the heavenly host were witnesses to that great and typical transaction: and must all the wisdom of God manifested by the Church, as the apostle observes, and "made known thereby to the principalities and powers in heaven,"—must, I say, all the prophecies, types, and revelations, as well as their accomplishment, remain for ever the subject of admiration and praise among the angels, and yet "the spirits of just men made perfect," the subjects for whom, and on whom, all was fulfilled,— must they only be locked up in forgetfulness Are they, with ignorant amazement, to hear Gabriel repeat his conversation with Zechariah’! Or does he in vain endeavour to stir up in Mary a remembrance of the salutation she received from the same bright messenger Shall Moses and Elms only remember the scene on Mount Tabor, while Peter; James, and John remember neither it nor them If you say, Doubtless every scene relating to the Saviour will be remembered, but we shall not remember or know one another; I answer, The one cannot subsist without the other. If Abraham remembers the type in Isaac, with the exercise of his faith when "he hoped against hope," he must remember Sarah, the removal of Hagar, with every remarkable circumstance of Isaac’s birth. Will it not then be a great lessening of his praise and triumph, if he cannot know whether Isaac and Sarah are with him in glory If you carry it a little further, and say, doubtless he knows they are there; then for what cause can he be forbid knowing and conversing with them Or, is this privilege only granted to Moses and Elias, who, I again say, doubtless knew each other on the holy mount as well as the disciples knew them.
Can we suppose Adam to have a just conception of the incarnation and death of the Messiah, and yet to forget the circumstances of his own fall which occasioned this gracious union Must he not then remember Eve, and eternally rejoice to see how the Seed of the woman has indeed bruised the serpent’s head The account of the rich man and Lazarus alone is sufficient to answer every objection. They could see and know each other, though one was in heaven and the other in hell,—consequently each could see all on earth. Abraham knew the state and situation of both so as to say, Thou, hast had thy good things and Lazarus his evil things. And the rich man could remember his five brethren. If you object and say this was a parable, (which there is no room to assert,) would our adorable Lord put forth a parable full of deceptions and wrong ideas, suited to lead us into error rather than truth I do not wonder a poor heathen should dream of a river of forgetfulness, by drinking of which all former scenes were to be lost in oblivion: but for a soul enlightened by revelation, to forget that a day is coming in which every secret thing shall be made known, is indeed a melancholy proof that darkness hath covered the earth, and gross darkness the people.
The second part of the objection we will now consider. Some have alleged, that though it is certain, we shall remember and know one another, because without that remembrance many subjects of praise would be lost in oblivion, nevertheless will not all particular unions cease, and is it not the design of God that death should divide To answer this objection, I must premise, that what is of God shall stand. I plead only for that union which has God for its source; and I think it would not be hard to prove, that what God hath joined together, death cannot put asunder. To that question, therefore,—Is it not the design of God that death should divide us—I answer, Division comes not from God, but from the devil. God, both in his nature and works, is perfect unity, and his original design for our first parents was not sorrow, consequently not separation. If we suppose their friendship was not to have been immortal, we must suppose pain to be in paradise; for Adam could not without pain inform Eve of such an awful secret, that when they had praised God together for a certain time, they must eternally forget each other! That he should no longer remember he was formed out of the dust, nor Eve her miraculous and near relation to him! Would not this information have been a bitter draught even in paradise Or suppose he had said, Though we shall have a bare remembrance of each transaction, nevertheless that close union, that endearing oneness of soul, of which the love of God is the foundation,—that very union hereafter the love of God is to dissolve. This would indeed have been in itself exceeding bitter, and therefore never was the original design of love. It was sin that brought in separation. It was owing to the hardness of our heart, for in the beginning it was not so; for God created one man and one woman. Well may we, therefore, mourn for the separation death occasions; and our sorrow is countenanced by Jesus himself, who wept over the ravage of this dreadful enemy, when he saw the consequences of it in Martha’s and Mary’s tears. I allow that it is true most unions on earth are dissolved by death, because the friendships of the world are oft confederacies of vice, or leagues of pleasure; and few can add,
"Ours hath severest virtue for its basis,
And such a friendship ends not but with life."
The Christian can say more; it ends not even with life. In the Church below we are commanded to love our neighbour as ourselves, and to consider our fellow Christians as members of one body; but does this obligation prevent particular unions Let that soul be the judge who hath felt most of the love of God and his neighbour. For otherwise, there is, indeed, a love of propriety, or, in other words, self-love reflected, which purity of heart will remove. But as similitude joins, and dissimilitude separates, so those spirits who are joined by their similitude of love and pure worship, who having been led in one path, (and probably prepared for one mansion,) can as easily retain a peculiar union without any diminution of their love to others, as a married couple can retain their love to each other, notwithstanding they have a dozen children to share it with them. My experience in the love of God is very shallow; yet I have felt enough to satisfy me, that the more our love to God increases, the nearer will be our love to each other, and the more indissoluble the tie; and the stronger this union, the more it will reflect on all around; and turning to its source, the love of Jesus will reflect back again with a perpetually increasing purity.
But I build my strongest argument on those words, O death, where is thy sting O grave, where is thy victory If death can eternally separate kindred spirits, it hath eternally a sting! And if the grave can eternally retain the body, it would have an eternal victory. But there is a covenant made with our dust. His elect shall be gathered from the four winds. Bone shall come to its bone, and not one forget its socket. And shall nothing be lost but our spiritual union Shall the grand enemy still have that one trophy left to glory in, and to insult over the saints of God Shall we believe him when he says, "A day is coming in which your closest unions, your purest ties of friendship, shall be no more! All that wonderful chain of providences, in which angels were employed in bringing you together, shall be sunk in eternal oblivion! Indeed this was not the original design of the Almighty; but I have overturned this one great design of love, and that so effectually, that the Saviour himself could not restore it; and instead of having abolished all the consequences of death. It leaves the scar of separation for ever! Now I am the father of death, and have so far conquered, that what God hath in design eternally joined together, I have eternally put assunder!" Ah, no! glory be to our victorious Conqueror! death shall be for ever swallowed up in complete victory! He hath abolished it, with all its consequences, and brought life and immortality to light by the Gospel. He hath broken down the wall, removed the veil; and through him we are come to the Church of the first-born, to the spirits of just men made perfect. We are fellow citizens with the saints, and of the household of God! And having overcome the sharpness of death, he hath already opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers. Perhaps some may say, But if it be thus, why do not the Scriptures plainly tell us death is no division but on our side; and that our friends still see, hear, and are about us I answer, There may be many reasons why a veil should be drawn over this heavenly secret. It is probable the primitive Church knew it more perfectly; but what was the consequence When they left their first love, they no longer held the Head, but ran into the false humility of the worship of angels, instead of worshipping God only, and adoring him, for the angelic ministry. Perhaps some communion with departed spirits caused the first step into the egregious errors of the Papists; and man, ever prone to extremes, knew not how to throw away the abuse, without throwing away the use of this heavenly secret. Nevertheless, "The secret of the Lord is still with the righteous, and his ear is open to their prayers. He will manifest himself to them, though not unto the world;" and he will grant to heavenly minds, when he sees good, a heavenly communication with the Church triumphant.
About this time I had a letter from my brother-in-law, De la Flechere, in Switzerland, letting me know that his son was coming to England, and he wished him to spend some time with me; hoping the sight of the place on which his dear uncle had spent so many years’ labor might, with the blessing of God, raise some thoughts in his mind of the importance of a religious life. I laid the matter before the Lords believing he would order all right; for ever since the removal of my beloved husband, I have so experienced the effects of his last prayer, "Head of the Church, be head to my wife," that I was not permitted to doubt that all concerning me was under the Lord’s immediate direction. And though my state was not for the present joyous, yet, through all, I inwardly believed the hairs of my head were numbered. Some particular circumstances, however, caused me to think it was the order of God I should go to Bristol, Bath, and some other places, and that now was the time; for after my return, it might be that the Lord had something for me to do or to suffer here.
Since my marriage I had travelled a good deal with my dear Mr. Fletcher, and in these journeys had often suffered much through needless fears; the most predominant passion of my soul by nature. And what, thought I, should such a poor creature as I do with only Sally, and under some disadvantages I had not then But still I believed it to be the call of God.
At the time I had appointed to set out, there was an appearance of much snow, which caused my friends to advise me to put off my journey a little longer; but as this would have deranged some plans, I thought it better to follow the course which I had fixed. When all was ready, and I was waiting for the carriage, I cast my eyes on the Bible which lay open before me, at the thirty-fourth Psalm. Much of it was applied to my heart; in particular these words O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together. I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. Faith sprung up in my heart. I said, It shall be fulfilled; and from that hour I have felt such a change, in regard to fear, as I can give no one an idea of, unless they should have suffered as I have done, from the same infirmity.
All the way as I went through various things, which would once have been very painful, I could feel those words my own which; for so many years I had longed after, viz., that "resignation left me no room for fear." No; "The angel of the Lord encampeth around about them that fear him, and delivereth them."
Many providences I met with in my journey, and very clearly did I see the hand of the Lord in various places and things. While I was at Bristol, in the house of my kind and affectionate friend, sister Johnson, I was agreeably surprised with the sight of Mr. H * * * who had left his native place and was just come to settle at Bristol, because he believed it most profitable for his soul. He presented me to his wife, a serious woman, saying, My dear, this is your mother also, for she is mine; and both assured me of their determination to be entirely devoted to God. As there was something singular in this affair I will mention the particulars. In the journey which I took with sister Ryan to Clifton, for her health, when I was about the age of twenty-seven, we lodged in a house where the family were very ungodly. There was only my sick friend, myself, and the nurse; and our whole apartments consisted of two chambers. After we had been there two or three days, we observed some things which we did not like very well. One night there was a strange noise below stairs, as of very rattling, wild company. It may be supposed it did not well agree with my sorrowful heart; for at that season I had nothing to expect (humanly speaking) but to bury my dear friend there, or carry her back in a coffin,—only she had various promises to the contrary, which sometimes I believed, and sometimes doubted. On inquiring next morning, they informed us that "Mr. H * * * was come, and now they should be all alive." I had before asked the family (who did not appear to be persons of the best character) if they would choose to come up into, my room in the morning to family prayer, as they were only women But they never, as I remember accepted the invitation. However, some days after the above mentioned racket, they sent me word, "If I pleased, Mr. H * * * and themselves would wait on me to prayer the next morning." I did not dare to refuse, and answered they were welcome. God only knew what a cross I felt in so doing! I had all the reason that could be, to think they only wanted to divert themselves; and the receiving a wild young gentleman, with such gay ladies, into my bedchamber, seemed to me a strange enterprise. The chapter I chose to read was the twenty-fifth of Matthew. I spoke with freedom on each of the parables, and found God was with my mouth. I did not much look off the book, till about the middle of the parable of the talents, I cast my eyes toward Mr. H * * *, and was surprised to find his earnestly fixed on me, and swimming with tears. When prayer was over, he respectfully returned me thanks, and went down stairs. After attending three mornings, he stopped behind the family, and told me, when they were gone, that he was convinced he led a bad life, and he wished to learn how to do better; that he was free from all business, had a good fortune, and was only here accidentally; and if I would tell him where he could get instruction, and help for his soul, he would go any where; "for this house," said he, "I must leave." From the first morning there was no more noise, singing, breaking glasses, or rude behaviour of any kind. As my friend grew worse, we were desired to leave Clifton, and try Bath. There she recovered to admiration; and in a short time we returned to the orphan house at Laytonstone. Mr. H * * * made good his words; and cultivating the friendship of some pious persons whom we had recommended to him in London, particularly brother George Clark, he became much confirmed in the truth; and hath ever since remained a follower thereof, and a promoter of the prosperity of Zion. At Bristol also I met with poor Fanny,* much grown in grace, and adorning her profession. And after a month’s absence, I was brought again in peace to Madeley, and constrained to say,
"In all my ways his hand I own;
His ruling providence I see."
I now found my dear love’s relations in Switzerland laid greatly on my mind in prayer; and sometimes when engaged therein, it has seemed to me as if his dear spirit so joined with me as I cannot express; and for his nephew in particular, whom I expected, I was greatly drawn out in intercession.
Being poorly one Saturday night, about ten o’clock, (the last week in May,) I was about retiring to bed, when word was brought me that my nephew was arrived. He could speak but little English, and I but little French. This was the first I had seen of my dear husband’s relations. He was of his own name, his godson, and his only nephew. But alas! I now received him alone, and instead of showing him his dear uncle, and sweet instructer, I could only lead him to the silent tomb, and say, "Live as he lived, and thou shalt die as he died."
I found him, as I expected, quite carnal, and very averse to the things of God. As my spirits were very weak, and his pretty high, I wished to have him rather as a visitor than one of my family; and Providence so appointed for me. Mr. Horne, the curate, understanding French, kindly offered to receive him into his house, until he was more perfect in the English language. I soon discovered he was of a sweet temper, a fine understanding, and outwardly very moral; but withal a strong Deist; and as he delighted much in philosophy, he placed such confidence therein as to believe he could set us all right, if he might have but five hours dispute with us.
*The Jewess mentioned in the former visit
I inquired of the Lord concerning the method I should use toward him; and saw, for the present, I was only called to show him condescension and love—to consider myself as his servant in Christ, and therefore to stand always ready to take up my cross, and in every thing innocent to do his will rather than my own. And as I could not say much to him in words, I must the more endeavour to show him, by the example of myself and family, that religion justly bears the character given her in those words: —
"Mild, sweet, serene and tender is her mode,
Nor grave with sternness, nor with lightness free:
Against example resolutely good;
Fervent in zeal and warm in charity."
It appeared to me as if those four lines were given me as a direction which I must ever keep before my eyes. And much did I plead with the Lord, that nothing he saw in me, or mine, might tend to set him farther off from God. When we could converse in English with tolerable ease, I perceived he had not only imbibed many wrong sentiments, but had such a stock of Pharisaical righteousness as I scarcely ever met with before.
One day, as he was talking in his free way, about the truths of the Gospel, a friend said, "If your aunt hears you talk at this rate she will be much grieved." He replied, "But I will not say these things to her; though should my aunt talk much to me about ,religion, I fear I should shall not keep my temper: for my uncle drove many people mad when he was abroad. I do believe there were three hundred who were quite mad! They talked of being filled with love, and kept praying and running together, not only while he was there, but since that time also."
Hearing of this, I said, "Tell him I will promise to keep my temper whether he does or not, for my love to him has a better foundation than he can shake." In order to improve in the English language, he proposed to read to me some hours in a day; and I was to choose the books. Mr. Wesley was so kind as to send him Beatty’s Evidences of the Christian Religion, which he read with some pleasure: but as yet his heart remained untouched.
I was very conscious I had none of that wisdom which in cases of this kind is often very useful; and where it is joined with Divine unction, does beautifully illustrate the truths it endeavours to defend. But that word was remembered with pleasure, "I will choose the foolish things of the world to confound the wisdom of the wise." And again, "My strength shall be made perfect in weakness."
Well, thought I, if I have no philosophical arguments to bring, I will so much the more cry to the strong for strength. I cannot do with the armour I have not proved:but the stone of conviction, and the sling of faith, is that which I must depend on; and when these are directed by the Spirit of God, nothing can stand against them.
Many of the Protestants in Switzerland are Deists; they are nevertheless very strict in bringing the young people to the communion; and they esteem it a reproach to do otherwise. My nephew expressed a desire of joining with us in that mean of grace; for having been from home some years at the university, he had not yet been brought to the table. Mr. Home told him freely his scruples in receiving him as a communicant; but after much conversation, he perceived a degree of conviction, and a desire to know the truth, and consented to admit him.
The first time he came to the table, as he was kneeling beside me, and Mr. Home was speaking those words, "The blood of the Lord Jesus Christ which was shed for thee"—I found, such a power of prayer spring up in my heart, it seemed as if I claimed a ray of the Divinity just then to penetrate his soul.’ He hath since told me he felt something very particular at that moment. My greatest difficulty, however, lay here, he did not believe the Scriptures. I was therefore cut off from drawing any arguments from them, and could only hold to this, the necessity of a change, in order to be capable of enjoying the Supreme Being.
I observed to him, You believe heaven to be a state, and a place of holiness, and the happiness there to be separate from all sin; —is there not then an absolute need of having a disposition suited thereto —This he readily allowed; but added, "Then I will make myself this new creature. The Supreme Being hath not left his work
imperfect. He hath given me powers sufficient, if I do but use them; and if I am to do all by this grace of God, as you say, then what has God to thank me for" I endeavoured to convince him of our utter helplessness, except through that assistance which we draw from union with God through the Saviour, without whom we cannot do any thing. He replied, "lndeed aunt, that is not my case. I do not know how it may be with others, but for me, I do assure you, there is no snare I cannot avoid, nor I any passion I cannot overcome."
As he abhorred the doctrine of the fall as much as that of the Divinity of our Lord, I did not speak often on those heads. I sought rather to convince him he was fallen, whether through Adam, or any other way, and that he was a sinner and unfit for heaven: and narrowly did I watch for every opportunity of pointing out any disposition that would help to prove my argument, though it was very difficult to bring him to a consciousness of any. At last I observed he had an abhorrence of the sin of envy, and a sensibility of having felt it. I then, on every proper occasion, enlarged on the happiness of the blessed, as consisting in love, the very contrary to selfishness, which was the principle from which envy took its life; and therefore he must become a new creature to enter into that state. This he now began to see, and sometimes to feel; but all my hopes appeared to be overturned at once by a circumstance which occurred. He had fixed his affections on a lady from whom about this time he thought he received some encouragement. Elated with joy, he was carried out of himself! There was nothing left for me to take hold of. He had no ear to hear but on one subject. I returned to a silent waiting before the Lord.
One night about the beginning of November, I dreamed I was in a church, standing by a communion table, on which lay a large Common Prayer Book, open in the service of matrimony. I observed it was all marked, as my dear husband used to mark those books he much approved. I beheld it with pleasure, for being near the 12th of November, I took it as a token that he remembered with approbation the transaction of that day,—our marriage. I was conscious of the presence of his dear spirit, as sent to communicate something to me. As I looked on the book, he signified to me the whole was emblematic, though few entered into the spirituality of it; adding, "This is a great mystery: I speak concerning Christ and the Church." As I cast my eyes on that word, "Who giveth this woman to this man " he pointed me to that text, "None cometh to the Son but whom the Father draweth." As nothing was spoken in words, it is difficult to describe the ideas which were conveyed to my mind. A gleam of light seemed to break forth in my soul, by which I discovered in how full a sense the souls of the redeemed are given by the Father to the Son, as his bride! I then thought on those words, "The marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready." In this acceptable moment, my nephew came to my mind. I said with a groan, O for our nephew! Immediately I saw a little bird fly around and around. I said, That is the emblem of my nephew’s ‘spirit. If it come to me and I take it up, his soul will be given unto me. I had no sooner spoken the word, but it came and alighted on the table before me. I took it up, stroked it, and let it fly again. A thought then struck my mind,—O, but he does not believe the Scriptures! The bird came, and I took it up the second time. As it flew again, I thought, O, but he does not believe in the Divinity of our Lord! Immediately it returned, and I took it up a third time. I no more saw it flying, but a beautiful large bird stood with great solemnity before me, and I awoke.
As I was in prayer a little time after the above dream, these words bore on my mind, "He setteth the solitary in families, and maketh them households as a flock of sheep." Also, "Thy sons shall come from far; and thy daughters shall be nursed at thy side." It was on the Monday night I had the dream hare related; and on the following Friday, my nephew received a flat denial from the before-mentioned lady. Here all his philosophy and boasted reason failed. He was as one driven to desperation. The next night he told me all his heart, saying, "O aunt! if you could see into my breast, you would see how troubled I am for the pain I have caused you. But now I see you are in the right. No! we cannot do without the help of God. I thought I could conquer every passion, but now I find they are taller and bigger than I." After telling me how many trials and disappointments he had met with in life, he added, "Do, dear aunt, pray with me." I did so, he weeping all the time with groans. When we rose from our knees, he said, "Ah! I am in the wrong, I thought all religion stood in the abhorrence of outward evil! but now I see there is something more." I told him my dream: when I came to that part of it relating to himself, he was much moved, and said, "O, aunt, if it depend on me, it shall be accomplished, indeed it shall."
The next morning, he told me that after we had parted the last night, as he was striving to pray, he found all his troubles gone, and felt for a few moments such a tranquillity as he had never known before. But his trouble, as well as his reluctance to believe, returned again; yet with this difference,—he had now a consciousness that he was wrong, and expressed a great desire to know and embrace the truth.
From some concurring circumstances, I believed it to be the order of God to invite him to live with me the remainder of the time he had to stay in England; but remembering what a friend had said, "I cannot converse with him any more; he tears open all the wounds of unbelief;"-I said, "Lord, shall it be so with me" and was answered by the application of that word to my mind, "I will not send you a warfare at your own charges." And glory be to my adorable Lord, so it proved; for all he could say served but to light up a fresh candle in my soul! Every time I read the Scriptures, a new lustre shone on every part, and the Divine evidence rose higher and higher in my heart. I could now observe he heard with deep attention; and one day he said to me, "Aunt, it is not now that I will not believe, but that I cannot; for when you read the chapter night and morning, and tell your thoughts upon it, it seems unanswerable. But then something comes—some thoughts,—.I do not seek them, but they come and throw me all back again."
His state was now very uncomfortable. Sometimes he was just ready to receive the Scriptures as truth: then a variety of objections would start up in his mind, and cause him to cry out, "How can these things be" If we cannot be saved without believing that Jesus is God why did he live and die in such obscurity Would not a merciful Being have rendered every thing quite clear that he required his creatures to believe, upon pain of their salvation * He added many arguments frequently used by Deists, such as, "How clearly doth the whole creation prove a Supreme Creator! The day and night, the sun and moon, and all creatures! We cannot help believing they have a Maker. Why is not the Divinity of Jesus Christ made as easy to be believed as these things" I replied, the belief of those things you have mentioned, are by the outward senses; but religion is an inward principle, which God must open in our souls, and which changes every power and passion thereof. If all you are to believe could be comprehended by the outward senses the greatest sinners might be as good believers as the most holy persons. But the sense which God opens in the soul, and which we call faith, makes you acquainted with spiritual things, and capable of communion with God. He then answered in haste, "God hath never opened such a sense in my soul, and of course he will not condemn me for not using a power he hath not given." True (said I) it is not opened in you; but it is because you shut your eyes and heart against it. Your state is exactly described in the word of God, whether you will believe it or no. This same Jesus whom you have despised, was "to the Jews a stumbling block and to the wise Greeks foolishness; but to us who believe," we feel him to be "the wisdom of God, and the power of God."
It was a precious time to my own soul; I had such a sweet view, of the whole plan of redemption! A ray of light shone upon the amazing wisdom, as well as love, contained therein, and filled my heart with a sweet liberty,
*The God of infinite mercy, justice, and truth, ‘has made all clear. The evidences of his being are not stronger than the evidences of the religion he has revealed.—ED.
while I was attempting to lay before him the hidden glories of the adorable Jesus, when he appeared without form or comeliness, and by his deep humiliation marked out all our way! How well suited this plan of salvation was to break down the high aspiring thoughts of man, and to bring him into that absolute dependence, and perfect submission, which make the joys of heaven! I observed also, that a far greater salvation was wrought out for us, and a far greater glory would redound to God, by this wonderful act of free grace, than could have been if we had never needed such a Saviour.
I now daily discerned some advances—he gave back more and more; and the word of God began to be more honourable in his eyes. But yet he would say, "Every man hath the right of private judgment. Can I not be saved without believing on Jesus Christ If I address my prayers to the Supreme Being, and strive to obey him, why should I be condemned for not believing what I cannot understand " To this I answered, "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that all who believe on him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Now, said I, there is the condition: "If you believe on him whom the Father hath given." He seemed in a struggle to believe, and said with vehemence, "But I cannot believe God would become a man, and die for me. I am not worthy of it. The thought is absurd! Why, aunt, if I were condemned to death, do you believe the king of England would die to save my life" No, said I, I believe he would not. "Now, there is the thing," replied he,—"you start at the thought of the king dying for me; and yet you want me to believe that God hath died in my place !"*
I observed the different relation he stood in to God. The king (said I) did not create you; you are not his offspring; neither can the love of a finite being bear any comparison with that pure unmixed love which dwells in the heart of God. The king did not voluntarily take all your condemnation on himself. But the Almighty Saviour has done so. He acts by us as if some great potentate should receive into his favour a poor beggar—make her his spouse—take all her debts on himself—give her a right to his treasures—a part in his throne-and a share in all his titles. "Thus God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him," should by virtue of that union inherit all things! Here is the condition; but you will not comply therewith. Only suppose, for one moment, that the king had died to save your life; but that when you was informed of his unparalleled love, you would give no credit thereto, even though one should say to you, Only look through this glass in my hand: I hold it to your eye; only look through it, and you will see him hang bleeding there! But you turn away your face with contempt, and will not so much as look on him who bleeds for you! Would you not in that case be a monster of ingratitude Now this word of God, this book, is the glass; if with simplicity and prayer you look into it, you shall there discern that supreme Being, (whom unknown you worship,) and that "He was in Christ reconciling the world to himself: and that there is no other name given under heaven whereby you can be saved."
*What a genuine instance of carnal reasoning!-ED
One afternoon, as he was reading to me, I pointed him to the experience of Brother Story, believing it was suited to his present state. But contrary to all I had for a long time seen in him, he appeared quite hard, and cavilled at almost every sentence. I answered his objections for a long time, till I was quite spent. Then looking solemnly at him, with tears in my eyes, I put out my hand to take the book. He was moved, and said tenderly—"What, aunt! What! No! I will read any thing, any thing you give me! You think me in a bad spirit, aunt!" I replied, Why, my dear, I do not think you are in a very good one. That book does not suit you to-night. He then read on, till he came to a part very applicable to his present feelings. He dropped the book at once, and remained silent. After a time I asked him what was the matter. He replied, " I know not what is the matter! I feel a horrible sensation! O! what do I ail How have I been speaking to you! Dear aunt, the more kind you are, the more ungrateful I am. What is the matter with me I am worse and worse!" I strove to comfort him, saying, It is well; the Lord is beginning to show you your heart. "Ah!" replied he, "you say very well, but I say very ill; for I am worse than before I came to England. O! I am ashamed to think how I spent my life! I thought I had done all things for the glory of God. But now I see I have done all for myself, and to please myself only." After some time of silence, he said, "I will now tell you what I have been doing. All this week I have strove to address my prayers to Jesus Christ, as you advised me, but, alas! I am more dull and cold in them than I ever felt before! O! if he is God, why doth he not help me! You said, aunt, he would answer for himself!" Then in an agony he added, "Why does he not answer Why does he not answer" While I was making a few observations on the long time the Lord had waited for him, &c., Mr. Horne came in to meet the men’s class, to which he was that night to go up for the first time. When he came down, he said his mind was more composed, and he wished he had frequented that meeting before.
After supper, being alone, we renewed our conversation, and I repeatedly assured him the Lord would shine upon him if he would only persevere. His cry was still, "Why does he not answer" It being late, we parted. I then went again to the throne of grace, to pour out my complaint before the Lord. I saw we were come to a point, and could go no farther without his immediate help. I had staked all on the faithfulness of my God, and had declared the answer would come: and now there was nothing more for me to do, but to obtain it of the Almighty. Sometimes I felt all faith and hope; at others, as if cold water was thrown over the fire of expectation. Satan was not idle. He suggested, You will find him to-morrow as you left him to-night. I pleaded with the Lord that it was no new thing I asked. He had shown his approval of sacrifices by fire from heaven; he had wrought for his people; he had given signs and wonders! "His arm was not shortened," and I besought him to appear in such a manner for this young man, as should convince him of the truth. Sometimes I felt all discouragement, but I did not mind that; I knew from whence it came. I said, Lord, thy word stands always sure; it is not my feelings, but thy faithfulness, that I depend on. Lord, thou hast said, "Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, I will do it." I ask this in thy name! I leave it in thy hand assured of the answer. The next morning he went out early. On his return at night, he said, "Aunt, I have a great deal to tell you. After we parted last night I thought I would pray; but that it was right to consider what I wanted most. Then I thought, why I want most light on this point, about Jesus Christ. But will God so condescend as to answer me Then, aunt, I heard a voice (not with my ear, but I did hear it) say, Yes, he will. Then I began and made prayer—and an hour went away like a minute-and I could say, Through the Lord Jesus Christ! O! dear aunt, I thought I must have come up and told you, but you were gone to bed. And again I thought, maybe tomorrow God will confirm this. And so he has, for when I was at Waters Upton, Mr. G H. began to make pleasantry of the miracles of Jesus Christ. I said in myself, Yesterday I could have smiled at this, and heard it with pleasure; but now it was a horrible sensation; I could not bear it; I was forced to go out of the house. Was not that a sign, aunt, that there is some change in me"
Soon after he had a particular dream. He thought he was in Switzerland, and attempting to converse with one of his old acquaintances on the things of God; but was much surprised to find he could only speak in English. Afterward, as he stood at a window with his father, he saw eight full moons all at once, and said in his mind, It means eight months. A beautiful city then rose up before his eyes, and as he looked thereon, he beheld a lovely appearance, and thought, Is that St. John He looked, till dazzled with the beams of glory which surrounded the face as it passed over the city, he cried out, See! father, see! The Lord Jesus! The Lord Jesus! and so awoke. This dream seemed to make a deep impression on him, though he attempted no explanation. About a week after this, coming home one night late, from visiting a sick neighbor, on my inquiring after his state, he answered, "Aunt, I have not found the evening long, for I have been in deep recollection almost all the time you have been gone. And now I can say, ‘Faith is the evidence of things unseen,’ for if I had seen my Lord, I could not be more assured than I am." From this time the change has been more and more evident. He attends all the meetings with me, and our dear friends are not a little delighted to hear the nephew and godson of their beloved minister telling, in his broken English, that his eyes, which had long been accustomed to see darkness, do now behold the light of the Lord.
Some time after, writing to a friend, he uses these words: "I have altogether left Mr. Horne’s house, though fully satisfied with all there; but it would have been very disagreeable to me to have been forced to ride daily, and at night, over one of the worst roads in the kingdom. I have now for three months enjoyed the happiness of living with my aunt, and I feel more and more the immense obligation which I owe to her, not only for all temporal care she hath taken of me, but much more for the blessing of my soul. Yes, she hath shown me, clearly, that the knowledge of mathematics, and a vain philosophy, are not sufficient to procure us true happiness; but the knowledge of Him only who giveth wisdom liberally to those who ask it. She hath taught me to distinguish the things which are situated within the reach of our understanding, from those which are beyond it; for I must own that the idea which I had before of the strength of my understanding, and the extent of my knowledge, was so false, that I thought nothing to be out of my sphere. But now, blessed be God! not only I feel that it is not permitted to men to scrutinize with profane looks the mysteries of religion, but I believe them with a holy respect; and far from being ashamed to acknowledge Jesus for my Saviour, I set my glory in it, and that persuasion makes me happy !"
He is indeed a new creature; and his conscience appears to be so tender, and his convictions of the need of a farther change so strong, that I am sunk in amazement and wonder! O what a prayer-hearing God have we to do with! "Ask, and you shall receive," is more than ever written on my heart! On the first of January, he was much blessed, and told me he had found such a power to renew his covenant with the Lord as he had never done before. He broke out in prayer with such simplicity as delighted the whole congregation! In a few months he must leave me and return to Switzerland—I trust in the power of the Lord, to be a messenger of glad tidings to the dear family of his precious uncle. O my God! What hast thou done for thy poor worm in the day of her adversity! "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me bless his holy name!"