are living. They feel as if they were living in a world of mists and shadows, while others appear to be living in a world of light. They are perplexed; and their minds are troubled; and they are afraid they never will be able to understand things properly. Ans. 1. Your fears are groundless. Your feelings are not uncommon. Others have felt so before you. All have felt so in fact. Those who seem to understand things so well, have felt as you feel. The greatest men that ever lived have felt so. Adam Clarke was once so perplexed, and confused, and discouraged, that he thought he was going beside himself. Luther, Melancthon, all that have come to spiritual greatness, have been subject to these painful feelings which you labour under. But they persevered, and they prayed to God, and God brought them through. The greatest men on earth, the wisest man in heaven, once knew no more than you, and once felt no more spiritual power than you feel. They reached their high eminence by passing through the vales of humiliation and despondency. And you may hereafter come to know as much, and understand things as clearly, as they do now. 2. You are discouraged with your poor attainments in religion. You do not feel a constant joy. You have not a full assurance of God's favour. You don't master temptation easil. You have terrible conflicts. You don't get free from inward evil. And you have frequent depression of mind. 1. Those are not strange things. They are quite common. The best that ever lived once felt all this. Luther had almost endless struggles, so had Wesley. Both Luther and Wesley spent years in that doubtful state, struggling and contending with the powers of evil. We have no right to expect to be born into the world of light without those pangs and throes. It is frequently amidst these tremendous conflicts that the souls of great and useful men obtain that supernatural strength, that strong internal vision, that deep and foreseeing knowledge, and that unconquerable and irresistible determination, which qualify them for accomplishing such wonders in the church and in the world. The world in which You we live was once a chaos, a dark and unformed mass of various elements, in wild and terrible discord warring with each other: but a few days later it was a scene of loveliness and joy and beauty, a fit dwelling_for the noblest of God's creatures. have a chaos in your souls; strange and discordant elements are warring within you; and there is little light. But be not dismayed. The spirit of God is there brooding over the disordered mass; he will bring the wild uproar of your soul to an end, and restore your inner world to order and to peace, and bless you with a fullness of light and joy. You You have strong temptations, but in this also you are only experiencing what the best and bravest of God's children have experienced. Some have even been tempted to curse God, and to blaspheme the Saviour. Some have been tempted to put an end to their lives. are not alone in your temptations; and you have no reason to be so terribly alarmed, as though something strange had happened to you. Your black and horrible temptations are no more than you had a right to expect. The Scriptures teach all to look for temptations. They give no one reason to expect to obtain the blessings of religion without struggles .Satan is unwilling to lose you, and he will do his worst to prevent you from escaping him. And the more likely you may be to oppose his interest in the world, and to weaken his kingdom, the more determined and fierce will be his assaults on you. But never fear. There is a mightier than the devil, and if you look to him, he will not suffer you to take any harm. will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you shall be able to bear. He will give you strength according to your trials; his grace shall be sufficient for you. Persevere. Be much on your knees. These temptations are intended, among other things, to make you feel your own insufficiency, and to drive you closer to your God. Go to God: cling close to him. Look for help and deliverance from him, and look for help and deliverance from no other, and he will assuredly appear in your behalf. He will bruise satan under your feet shortly. He we You are troubled also with frequent depressions of soul. You are sometimes comforted, and then again you are afflicted with sadness. One day you are lifted up, and then again you are cast down. One time you are so happy, you feel as if you were never to be troubled more; and then again you are almost lost. Your soul feels utterly powerless, exhausted, spiritless. But this also is nothing uncommon. The Psalmist had such depressions thousands of years ago. One day he was filled with holy joy, and exclaimed, "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits." "What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits towards me?" But a change comes over his spirit-and then find him exclaiming, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul; and why art thou disquieted within me ?" There were those great changes in the life of the Redeemer himself. One hour we see him coming up out of Jordan, and the heavens were opened over him, and the spirit of God descends from heaven like a dove, and rests upon him, while the voice from the upper worlds is heard, saying, This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased. And yet the Evangelist tells us, that immediately Jesus was led away of the spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil. And he was there forty days and forty nights, tempted of the devil, and did eat nothing. On another occasion we see him on mount Tabor with two of his disciples, where he was transfigured before them and his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light. And, behold, there appeared unto them Moses an Elijah talking with him. The place seemed like heaven itself, and the glory and the blessedness of heaven seemed to be diffused around them. It is not long after, that we see him in the garden of Gethsemane, in an agony, exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death, and offering up to his Father strong cries and tears; and then a little later we see him hung upon the cross, breathing out his soul in death. It was so with the chief of the Apostles. One day he was caught up into the third heavens, and there saw things and heard things which it was impossible for him to utter, His happiness was such, that whether he was in the body or out of the body he could not tell he was lost in ecstacy. And yet, almost as soon as he reached the earth again, a messenger of satan is sent to buffet him, -a thorn in the flesh, a most grievous and harrassing trial comes upon him to keep him in his proper place, lest he should be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelations given to him, and thrice the suffering Apostle had to beseech the Lord to remove the trial from him. And as it was then, it is now-the people of God are subject to those changes still. There is not a saint on earth, probably, but has felt those deep depressions: I do not believe there ever was one, or that there ever will be. And it is certain that the wisest, the best, the ablest, and the most useful of God's people have been greatly tried in this way. Luther was brought to the very gates of death on one occasion by a trial of this kind. So was Melancthon. Bunyan in his Pilgrim's Progress represents it as a kind of trial which Christians generally may expect to meet with. It is his Slough of Des pond, his Valley of Humiliation, and his Valley of the Shadow of Death. You ought therefore to look for such trials: but you have no need to be dismayed. You will take no harm under such trials, if you still look up to God. They will not last long. Sorrow may endure for a night; but joy cometh in the morning. And your trials shall bring you greater good in the end. He that goeth forth weeping, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him. "These depressions are to prepare us for future and loftier elevations: and if we patiently endure, we shall have the happiness, at length, "To take our last triumphant flight, From Calvary's to Zion's height." surance; it depends on the full surrender of your souls to God through Christ. Men may be accepted of God, and yet not be always assured of it. We are not saved by assurance, but by faith; and there are multitudes who have true faith, a faith that works by love, who yet have not a full and constant assurance of acceptance. John Wesley was several years before he found a full assurance of his acceptance with God. John Pawson, one of the earliest and one of the best of John Wesley's fellow-labourers, was ten years before he found a full assurance of his acceptance. It is best not to be anxious about assurance, but to study and do God's will, leaving all else in God's hands. God will give you such evidences of his love, and such inward consolations, as will be best for you, if you thoroughly give up yourselves to his will. People generally find the richest consolations, and the fullest assurances of God's favour, when they cease to seek after consolations and assurances, and content themselves with simply doing the will of God. Assurance is the privilege of all God's people, and you have not the least ground to doubt but that God will bestow it upon you, if you give up yourself entirely to God's will. INTERVIEW BETWEEN CHARLES II. AND WILLIAM PENN, 1681. When William Penn was about to sail from England for Pennsylvania, he went to take leave of the King, and the following conversation occurred : "Well, friend William," said Charles, "I have sold you a noble province in North America; but still I suppose you have no thoughts of going thither yourself." "Yes, I have," replied William, “and am just come to bid thee farewell." "What, venture yourself among the savages of North America! Why, man, what security have you that you will not be in their war kettle in two hours after setting foot on their shores ?" "The best security in the world," replied Penn. Why not to them as well as to all others?" "If it had appeared to them," said the King, "they would hardly have treated my subjects so barbarously as they have done." In "That is no proof to the contrary, friend Charles. Thy subjects were the aggressors. When thy subjects first went to North America, they found these poor people the fondest and kindest creatures in the world. Every day they would watch for them to come ashore, and hasten to meet them, and feast them on their best fish, and venison, and corn, which was all that they had. return for this hospitality of the savages, as we call them, thy subjects, termed Christians, seized on their country and rich hunting grounds, for farms for themselves! Now, is it to be wondered at, that these much-injured people should have been driven to desperation by such injustice, and that, burning with revenge, they should have committed some excesses?" "Well then, I hope, friend William, you will not complain when they come to treat you in the same manner." "I am not afraid of it," said Penn. "Aye, how will you avoid it. You mean to get their hunting grounds, too, I suppose?" Yes, but not by driving these poor people away from them." "No, indeed; how then will you get their lands?" 66 Why, the right of discovery; the right which the Pope and all Christian kings have agreed to give one another." "The right of discovery! A strange kind of right, indeed. Now, suppose, friend Charles, some canoe loads of these Indians, crossing the sea, and discovering thy island of Great Britain, were to claim it as their own, and set it up for sale over thy head, what wouldst thou think of it?" "Why-why-why," replied Charles, "I must confess, I should think it a piece of great impudence in them." The King assenting to this with strong marks of conviction, William proceeded, "Well then, friend Charles, how can I, who call myself a Christian, do what I should abhor even in Heathens? No, I will not do it. But I will buy the right of the proper owners, even of the Indians themselves. By so doing, I shall imitate God himself in his justice and mercy, and thereby insure his blessing on my colony, if I should ever live to plant one in North America."-- Weems's Life of William Penn. I received your letter, but have been kept from answering it on account of a resolution which my medical attendants some months ago recommended me to take. This resolution was, in consequence of old age, and declining health, and infirmities, to have no more to do with public concerns, and to give up all correspondence, being worn out both in body and mind by the continuous labour of fifty-seven years, in the cause of the abolition of slavery, &c. But considering that a very short letter might suffice to answer your wishes, I thought that I ought to gratify them, though I believe I could say nothing new on the subject. You wish to be acquainted with the view I take on the great question of teetotalism. Permit me then to say that I became a friend of that institution as soon as I came to the knowledge of the beneficial effects which it had produced. There is no doubt whatever with me, that it is in the first place promotive of the great blessing of health to those who adopt its rules. It keeps in health those who had a good consti tution before, and to those who have lost their health by intemperance, which is our present case, it affords frequently the means of recovery and new vigour. And this effect it produces both on the rich and the poor: but to the poor man who loses his health teetotalism is an inestimable treasure, because such a man cannot afford to lose his day's work, nor to pay for medical assistance. I think this advantage has never been valued as it deserves to be. * Let us now look at the beneficial effect of teetotalism in another point of view, but particularly as it relates to the condition of the poor, for I consider these to be more the object of my solicitude than any others; and here I may say I have been made acquainted with the reformation of many drunkards at Ipswich (the nearest town to me in the neighbour hood), not only as it relates to their abstinence from fermented liquors, but as it relates to the moral conduct of their lives. Let me now take one case out of many to show the advantages of this new system-A man, for instance, has no other means of living than by his daily labour. Having spent a great portion of his earnings for the week in fermented liquors, can we wonder that he and his family should suffer during the week, and suffer often severely for want of food? Besides, the very same cause which prevents him getting a sufficiency of victuals, prevents him from getting clothing for his wife and family. Again, when he goes out into the streets he is a nuisance to those who see him there, not only on account of his squalid looks and filthy appearance, but often from his disorderly conduct. He is shunned as an outcast of society, and despised by all. At length he takes the pledge, and if he keeps to it faithfully, mark the difference in the man! He and his family no longer suffer from hunger. In a few months they are no longer in rags; nay, he is able, in process of time, to provide them with some of the comforts and conveniences of life. But the change does not stop here. There is yet a more glorious change in him, and this as a man, or as a moral being, taking a station in society. He regains now the confidence of his employer. He walks in the streets, not now as a degraded outcast, shunned and despised, but carries with him the look and the air of independence. Add to this, he is no longer dreaded as a disorderly man, or as one likely to disturb the peace of society, or as one from whom depredations may be expected to relieve his wants; but is respected by all who know of the change he has undergone. It is, then, from knowing these and other advantages which this man derives to himself and his family from temperance, and which hundreds of thousands in the United Kingdom may, and do, derive from the same course, that I ground my patronage of teetotalism; for if it leads to the temporal comfort and welfare of the poor, and if it adds also to the security of the public, both in their property and persons, it affords a sufficient argument of itself for the encouragement of such an institution. I have heard one, and only one argument against teetotalism, and this on the part of the clergy. They say it is not the right way to reform men, or that teaching men abstinence from fermented liquors can never teach them their duties. I grant this. I admit that nothing but the pure Word of God can lay a solidˇand lasting foundation for moral improvement. But I never took up the cause on religious grounds, but only upon the ground of public utility. If temperance produces sobriety, and peace, and order among men; and moreover, if it adds to the comforts of the poor, and guarantees public security, it affords a sufficient argument why it should be encouraged. I leave the teaching of religion to those ministers or pastors in whose parishes the drunkards may happen to be. But here I am bound to say, that though an abstinence from fermented liquors, on the plan of the society, be not a teacher of moral duties, yet it has been found to be a great auxiliary to the promotion of Christianity, and to the conversion of sinners. For it is a fact, that where drunkards have been brought into sober habits by the institution, many thousands of them have gone to different places of worship which they never frequented before. Thus teetotalism, though it be not a teacher of the doctrines of Christianity, is constantly putting its converts into a situation to hear nnd to know them, and to reap the spiritual advantages which such instructors may afford. Thousands are thus reformed, whom it is found that Christianity had not yet touched. You must excuse the interlineations made in this letter, being now in the 82nd year of my age, and also much indisposed, and also lame, and very nearly blind, so that sometimes I can scarcely see where to direct my pen. It is very painful to me to write a letter;" I am sometimes a whole day, or even two, in finishing it. I am, my Friend, with great regard, though you are only known to me by name, yours truly, THOMAS CLARKSON. |