Chapter I: Front Matter (1)

The Works of the Rev. John Wesley, M.A.

┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ │
│ Transcriber’s Notes │
│ │
│ │
│ Punctuation has been standardized. │
│ │
│ Most of the non-common abbreviations used to save space in │
│ printing have been expanded to the non-abbreviated form for │
│ easier reading. │
│ │
│ The author has used an asterisk (*) to indicate passages he │
│ considers most worthy of attention. │
│ │
│ The text is very inconsistent in its usage of quotation marks.│
│ The transcriber has attempted to make their use consistent │
│ throughout this work for improved readability. │
│ │
│ Characters in small caps have been replaced by all caps. │
│ │
│ Non-printable characteristics have been given the following │
│ Italic text: --> _text_ │
│ emphasized text within │
│ italics --> |text| │
│ │
│ This book was written in a period when many words had │
│ not become standardized in their spelling. Words may have │
│ multiple spelling variations or inconsistent hyphenation in │
│ the text. These have been left unchanged unless indicated │
│ with a Transcriber’s Note. │
│ │
│ The symbol ‘‡’ indicates the description in parenthesis has │
│ been added to an illustration. This may be needed if there │
│ is no caption or if the caption does not describe the image │
│ adequately. │
│ │
│ Footnotes are identified in the text with a superscript │
│ number and are shown immediately below the paragraph in which │
│ they appear. │
│ │
│ Transcriber’s Notes are used when making corrections to the │
│ text or to provide additional information for the modern │
│ reader. These notes are identified by ♦♠♥♣ symbols in the │
│ text and are shown immediately below the paragraph in which │
│ they appear. │
└────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘

THE
WORKS
OF THE
Rev. JOHN WESLEY, M.A.

Late Fellow of _Lincoln-College_, OXFORD.

VOLUME XIV.

BRISTOL:
Printed by WILLIAM PINE, in _Wine-Street_.
MDCCLXXII.

THE
CONTENTS
Of the FOURTEENTH VOLUME.

⭘ _Extract of Mrs. L****’s Letters (continued.)_

⭘ _Meditations upon some texts of Scripture._

⭘ _Extracts from a Little Diary._

⭘ _Letters written by Jane Cooper._

⭘ _Some account of her life and death._

⭘ _Some account of the experience of E. J._

⭘ _An earnest Appeal to Men of Reason and Religion._

⭘ _A farther Appeal to Men of Reason and Religion._ Part I.

Illustration: (‡ decoration)

An EXTRACT of
LETTERS
By Mrs. L****.
[Continued.]

To the Rev. Mr. ****.

_Sunday Afternoon, October 13, 1754._

_My dear Friend_,

I WAS this morning (though unseen by you) present at your sermon on the _public_ worship of God, and sat impatiently, expecting and longing to hear that name mentioned, by which alone cometh salvation. Surely, thought I, when all his heathen and moral motives are done, I shall at last hear him urge that _best_ and _most_ prevailing motive to our joining together in the praise of God, the exceeding riches of his mercy to us in Jesus Christ. But alas! How were my expectations frustrated? And how did my heart sink when the sermon was ended!――If there is any faith to be given, either to the words or behaviour of man, you are a _Christian_. But what did you say _here_, more than _Socrates_ might have said? You will pardon my boldness; God knows the sincerity of my heart, when I protest, that it is only from a motive of love to your soul, and the souls of those which hear you, that I write with such freedom. Give me leave then to ask, Have you, for your own soul in particular, found redemption through the blood of Christ? I have all the reason imaginable, from your sweet conversation, to believe that you have. But how is it then that you could preach _one_ such sermon as this? Oh search well into your own heart. Is there not some root of bitterness remaining, some evil shame, which renders you thus inconsistent? Had I not heard you myself, I could not have thought it possible, for you to have preached in this manner, after the glorious things you have said to me. You have called me friend. Take this letter as the highest proof of friendship I could possibly give you. Is it not so, for your sake to run the hazard of being thought _bold_ and _assuming_? If you are offended, tell me so _plainly_, but at the same time _freely_ forgive me; and believe me, with the sincerest wishes for your present usefulness and everlasting happiness,

_Your ever obliged and affectionate Friend_,

****

* * * * *

To the Rev. Mr. W****.

_December 25, 1754._

_Dear Sir_,

*MAY this blessed day in which the sun of righteousness first arose on our dark world, bring a new accession of light, and peace, and joy to _your_ precious soul! May the power of God accompany every word you utter, and give you this day to enlarge your conquests over the prince of darkness. Oh, give my full heart leave to expand itself in praying for you, in blessing you, and in thanking you, for your surprizing goodness to me. No, never shall you find me ungrateful; _that_ God in whom alone I trust for strength, will preserve me from falling into this meanest of all crimes.――I shall not, I fear, have the delightful satisfaction of hearing you to-morrow, and therefore could not forbear writing to-day; besides, I am by illness prevented attending the public worship of God, so that I have need of this comfort. Every thing has succeeded here beyond my hopes, your presence has greatly dispelled every cloud of prejudice, and fear of man. In short, when I consider the goodness of God and my own absolute unworthiness, I am lost in astonishment: dear Sir, pray that I may make a proper improvement of all these blessings, and particularly of that _exceeding_ great blessing, your friendship. Oh Sir! may I _indeed_ say _your_ friendship? The Lord Jesus bless and reward you! Expression fails me, when I would thank you as I ought, and tell how much I am,

_Your ever obliged and affectionate_,

****

* * * * *

_Dear Sir_,

YOUR answer to my question, on what is the proper foundation of our rejoicing in temporal blessings, is perfectly satisfactory, and I thank you for it. What you say of Mr. _P._’s tract is just what I wanted: possibly some fit season may be given me to make a good use of it. One would imagine that if singleness of eye, and sincerity of heart were really found in all those of our ministers, who in a measure preach the gospel, there would scarce be room left even for the shadow of a dispute. But this is only imagination; for I cannot help observing of some, for whose sincerity I would answer with my life, that they are far from being consistent long together. I have lately been attacked with a mighty pretty distinction (and from my ignorance a new one to me) in respect of the doctrine of assurance of forgiveness of sin.――Mr. **** says, it is of the _essence_ of _faith_; but most of the old _Puritans_, together with a heap of great names (of which I remember not one) say, it is of the _fruits_ of _faith_.――A poor weak woman, who has not learnt logic, may be easily puzzled with the nicety of a logical distinction; but still I could plainly see, that let it be essence or fruits, there was a manifest necessity for enforcing the doctrine: because a tree which brings not forth its proper fruits, is a barren tree.――A faith which brings not forth its proper fruits, is a dead faith, and consequently unprofitable.――The answer is, “A tree may be alive, and yet not bring forth fruit immediately.”――Well, but this makes nothing against the necessity there is that it _should_ bring forth fruit, in order to make it a profitable tree.――But then we have a homily to fly to:――“The homily on salvation says ‘nothing of assurance.’”――If the homily contradicts St. _Paul_, the homily is nothing to me.――“O, you won’t refer it to that, ‘because it makes against you.’”――I do not so much as know what is in it.――“It only ‘says a _sure trust_ and _confidence_.’”――I think a _sure confidence_ is nearly the same with assurance.――“No, they are very different.”――Now, Sir, you must be so good to furnish me with two or three of your strong arguments, to pull down this _Babel_ tower, which _our friends_ are building. I should also be glad, if you would tell me by what happy art you are always _consistent_ in doctrine, as well as practice: for I can find no one else that is so.――Difference of opinion I regard not; I could enjoy fellowship of spirit with a truly sincere _Predestinarian_, _Papist_, or _Quaker_. Inconsistency is the thing alone which hurts me. When I find this in people whom I know to be in so much higher a state of grace than myself, and whom I love and honour, it disquiets me, I own, by far too much: and my soul, like _Noah_’s dove, flies solitary about, and finds no place of rest on the face of the whole earth: till at last with one olive-leaf, and _only one_, she returns joyful to the ark――Give me leave, Sir, to intreat of you (if you should have a little time to spare) that you will just point out to me, _First_, What are the probable causes of this inconsistency, in those who have _truly_ sincerity of heart, and singleness of eye. _Secondly_, What is the most probable means of curing this distemper of the mind. And, _Thirdly_, How I may avoid falling into it myself, and keep my soul from being disquieted, when I find it in those whom I highly esteem.――――I hope God continues to preserve to us your precious health, and that your long journies may be a means of strengthening and establishing it.――I doubt not but the work of the Lord prospers in your hands, and that you will have much reason to rejoice in the fruit of your labours. How happy are you to be always thus employed, in such eminent service for your Master? You live almost the life of an unembodied spirit; and I live nearly the life of a _plant_. But thank God, it is absolutely certain, that this immortal spirit of mine, which is thus pressed in on every side, and weighed down with matter, will some time burst its bonds, and break the bars of its prison; and then, how it will soar! Nothing sure can equal the life, the joy, the _glorious liberty_, which a spirit must feel, when first delivered from its heavy clog! Farewel! May our dear Redeemer continually watch over you, and bless you in every thought, word, and action!

_I am_, &c.

****

* * * * *

_September 17._

_Dear Sir_,

HOW shall I find words to thank you for your sweet expressions of care and friendship for my soul? Ten thousand thousand blessings on your own for this kindness.――――I hope I may in _one_ sense say, that my soul prospers, because I desire nothing but that the will of God may be done in me and by me. But I have not at present those overflowings of joy I have at some times experienced: the cries of a sickly infant, which touch all the finest springs of human nature, cast a kind of heaviness over my soul: and the perpetual and strict watch I am obliged to keep over my heart, for fear the least murmuring or complaining thought should arise in it, (which I would rather die than suffer) seem rather to restrain my soul from the glorious freedom she once had, of losing herself in the heights and depths of divine love.――Oh blessed hours of abstraction from all creatures, and joyful communion with the fountain and centre of all happiness, when will ye return? When it is the will of my heavenly Father that you should return; and in that divine will I rest contented, willing, nay pleased, to suffer any thing, every thing, so I may be kept from sin. I have lately had inward temptations, buzzing about my mind, like insects in a summer’s day; but, by looking to Jesus, I as easily disperse them, as the waving hand disperses those little troublesome animals: and, thanks to my Redeemer’s boundless mercy, I still enjoy in my inmost soul, a peace, which I would not lose for millions of worlds. But I greatly want constant recollection, and a mortified humble spirit. You know the weight your words have with me; give me, I beg of you, some directions for obtaining this. I cannot take my leave, without thanking you again and again, for enquiring after my soul: Oh how dearly do I love you for this goodness; may the tender mercies of God be with you! May the eternal Comforter meet and bless you in every word of your tongue, and in every thought of your heart!

_Your ever-grateful and affectionate_,

****

* * * * *

_February 28._

I SHALL not forget the great reason I had to be thankful both to God and you, for our _last_ conversation. It seemed to me, that I had more liberty of speaking to you than usual, though a thousand things were yet left unsaid; and you led me to make many observations, which I hope will be of _lasting_ benefit to my soul. You have taught me to see the amazing wisdom and loving kindness of God in several instances, which I should not else have thought of; and I am fully satisfied with all his disposals: knowing he orders all things well, I chearfully submit; and I trust that strength will be given me to walk on in the way set before me, “though sorrowful, yet (in one sense) always rejoicing.”――Is it not a great blessing that the thorns are mixed with roses? This is infinitely more than I deserve.――How true is it, that the higher satisfaction we have in any thing, besides God, the greater pain must necessarily attend it? I have often been taught this lesson, in various degrees, each rising above the other; and yet I have not learnt wisdom. And who shall teach me _this_ wisdom? Why you yourself can lay down most excellent rules, but it is God alone who can give me power to practise them. I plainly see the necessity of having every thought brought into subjection to Christ: it must be thus, if I would attain settled peace and constant recollection.――In your extract from _Molinos_, the state of mind I am seeking, is well described in these words: “The soul that is entered into the heaven of peace, acknowledges itself full of God, and his supernatural gifts; because it lives grounded in _pure love_, receiving equal pleasure in light and darkness, in night and day, in _affliction_ and _consolation_: through this holy and heavenly _indifferency_, it never loses its peace in _adversity_, nor its _tranquility_ in _tribulation_, but sees itself full of unspeakable enjoyments.”――――And again, “Though the valley of the lower faculties of the soul, is suffering _tribulations_, _combats_, _martyrdoms_, and suggestions, yet at the _same time_, on the lofty mountain of the higher part of the soul, the true sun casts its beams; it enflames and inlightens it, and so it becomes clear, peaceable, resplendent, quiet, serene, being a mere ocean of joy.”――But alas! you will say, “How far are _you_ from this state!” True, I am far from it indeed. And yet I have sometimes experienced some little glimmerings of it, but they have been soon disturbed: and then I have fondly said to myself, Well, when this trial, when this temptation, or difficulty is over, I shall return to my sweet peace, and my soul will be wholly swallowed up in the love of God. Vain imagination! I think I have _now experimentally_ learnt a truth, which before only floated in my brain, “That the peace of a Christian does not consist in being free from temptations and difficulties, but in stedfastly and calmly conquering them.”――Once more, the Lord preserve you! Could my prayers avail any thing, what blessings would you receive, in body, soul, and spirit! Oh farewel, farewel! And when your soul is most carried up to God, remember to pray for,

_Your grateful and affectionate_,

****

* * * * *

_April 2._

_Dear Sir_,

I RETURN you many thanks for writing so soon, and particularly for filling two sides of your paper. My soul was as much enlivened by your letter, as the earth, the birds, and flowers, are by the rays of the sun, after a long and heavy rain. May your blessed Master reward you for all your goodness to me!

I thank God, I have in some measure learnt that grand lesson, “Not as I will, but as _thou_ wilt;” and I continually pray that he may teach it me more and more. The present idle and half-dying life I am obliged to lead, greatly needs this temper of mind; and it is all owing to the free mercy of my Redeemer, that I can _now_ say, his grace is sufficient for me.

In regard to temporal blessings, I have now and then a little dispute with some of my religious friends, and I want your authority to strengthen my arguments.――They say, Whatever temporal blessing God gives, you are to rejoice and take a pleasure in it, as his gift. And I say, Whatever temporal blessing God bestows, the motive for your rejoicing should be _merely_ the _will_ of God: for if you rejoice in the blessing, considered as a happiness in itself (though referring it to God with a thankful heart) you are building on the sand, and your happiness will be shaken, if not overturned, by the first storm that beats upon it. But if the will of God be the motive of your rejoicing, you build your happiness on a foundation which never can be moved. The present blessing, indeed, may vanish away, but your cause of rejoicing still remaineth sure and stedfast, in time and in eternity.――Some people think the _way_ I am in at present a prodigious happiness, and the greatest of worldly blessings, and will ask me, “Are you not pleased?”――I answer, I am pleased with every thing which is the will of God; and the answer is thought an odd one: but I cannot help it, I dare not make any other.

*You want me to say something upon Christian love ripened in eternity. But this is a theme for angels; my soul is too low, too dull to attempt to write upon it; I can only wish and pray to be a partaker of it. Farewel; may the sweetest streams of redeeming love ever fill your soul.

_I am unalterably your’s_,

****

* * * * *

_July 18._

*_Dear Sir_,

I CAN truly say, that I _would_ with joy devote all I have, and all I am to God, and gladly spend every hour in his service, But the difficulties I find in the way are _indeed insuperable_ to _me_, though not so I think to every one, at least if I may judge from some few instances I have seen since my acquaintance with _you_.――You yourself, _even outwardly_, appear to me to spend every hour to the glory of God; and for this reason I look upon you to be the happiest of mankind. When I see you spent with fatigue, your eyes half closed, and your outward man seeming to _hasten_ to its dissolution, though I would freely give my own life and strength to increase yours, I almost _envy_ you this _glorious fatigue_, and say to myself, How happy, how blessed is this man, thus to _spend_ and be _spent_ in the service of his Redeemer! Think me not presumptuous when I say, that I place you constantly before my mind, as my _living_ example. Outwardly it certainly is impossible for me to follow you, but inwardly!――Oh, Sir, that I could in every faculty of my _soul_ be a follower of you, even as _you are_ of _Christ_!――You bid me _love enough_; and doubtless if I could _love enough_, I should (as you say) do enough, for _perfect_ love is _perfect liberty_, liberty to conquer all sin, and attain to all holiness. This is the glorious privilege of the children of God; and this my soul pants after. But though I can sincerely say, that I love God above all things, yet it is very evident that I do not love enough, because the fruits of this perfect love are not produced in my soul. Sometimes my enemies seem intirely conquered, and my mind is smooth and calm, as were the waters after Christ had said to them, _Peace, be still_. But when I seem thus strong, I am (to my inexpressible shame and confusion) found to be _weakness_ itself: some trifle, which perhaps had appeared too contemptible even to be thought of, will be the means of my _inwardly_ falling. But thanks be to God I have this given me,

“Quick as the apple of an eye,
The slightest touch of sin to feel.”

To feel, and immediately to fly to that blood of sprinkling which alone can cleanse me from this pollution. But indeed, Sir, I find every day more and more the truth of your words, “that I have need to _watch always_.” I am set as it were in the midst of snares, both friends and enemies conspiring together to keep me from that humility, which is so necessary to one who wishes to be really a _Christian_. My enemies lead to pride, by railing at me for what is, and ought to be, in one sense, my glory; and my friends, by having too high an opinion of me. I think there is none, except yourself, who does not in _some measure_ hurt me: and therefore, though I dare not call you _my_ friend, as implying any particular attachment on your part, you are in fact, my truest and best friend. Praise I now dread as poison; and yet my temper is such as makes some encouragement necessary. Your behaviour to me is exactly fitted to preserve the balance of my mind even; a smile of approbation from you, is _that praise_ which _encourages_ without endangering. You will pardon my speaking so much of myself: a patient, you know, must fully lay open his case to his physician; and I have been emboldened even by you yourself, to increase the length of my letters. Oh may your blessed Master reward you for all your labours in his service, and for all your goodness to,

_Your unworthy, though
ever-grateful and affectionate_,

****

MEDITATIONS
Upon some TEXTS of SCRIPTURE.

_The heart is deceitful above all things,
and desperately wicked._

O MY God, how fatally do I experience the truth of this assertion! My heart is indeed deceitful above all things. And how great is my sorrow on the melancholy reflection? Lord, I have by the deceitfulness and wickedness of my own heart, justly forfeited my title to the joys of eternity, incurred thy indignation, and made myself obnoxious to that dreadful sentence, _Depart ye cursed_! And how just is this sentence, after the crimes my deceitful heart has betrayed me into; after the many good resolutions I have broke; after the sins of ingratitude, presumption, and repining, with which I have defiled my soul! How often have I resolved, firmly resolved, to keep a strict watch over my eyes and heart in the house of God; and let no thought have entrance, which could prevent my addressing my Creator with the reverence I ought? But, merciful God! How contrary have I acted to all this! Have not my eyes been amused by vanity, and my heart so distracted by idle and ridiculous ideas, that I have not known the words my lips pronounced? Nay, have not even unclean and blasphemous thoughts attacked me at this sacred time, and, wretch that I am! been indulged, or but coldly rejected? Horrible proof, that my heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked! Lord, I abhor myself, for having thus often, and thus heinously offended thee! I am utterly ashamed and confounded, at my daring, my monstrous impiety! How shall I dare to hope for pardon of a sin so frequently repeated, and with such aggravations? When I consider the greatness of my guilt, my astonished soul is ready to sink in black despair. Blessed God! I sin against the clearest conviction, against the checks of my conscience, and the kind admonitions of thy holy Spirit; and, strange perverseness! against all the hopes I have of happiness; sin against that God, whom I love and adore from my soul, and whose favour I would this moment lay down my life to procure. The thoughts of immortality, and the surprising goodness of the Almighty, in the works of creation and redemption, fill my mind with gratitude and wonder; I am lost in admiration, and could dwell for ever on the delightful theme. And yet, inconsistent wretch that I am! I go on to offend this divine author of my being, by my careless, supine, and irreverent addresses; and my wicked and fantastic thoughts. My prayers are turned into sin: and now is it not presumption, the highest presumption, to hope for pardon? Or rather, would it not be a greater sin than I have yet committed, to despair of it? Is not mercy the darling attribute of God? It is; and I embrace and adore that mercy: that mercy which is so freely offered to the worst of sinners: that mercy which is made sure to us by the blood of a crucified Saviour. Oh my only refuge! my dearest hope and everlasting confidence! Teach me words to express the sentiments I have of thee, and the abhorrence I have of my guilt. I detest myself, hate my vile ingratitude, and am fully convinced of my own weakness, and the vanity of my best resolutions, without thy assisting grace. Oh grant me that, for the sake of my Redeemer; on that alone will I rely; never more will I trust to the strength of my own reason. I have found, by dear experience, that I am folly and inconstancy itself: without thy aid I am worse than nothing, but with the blessing I implore, I shall be more than conqueror. But is the sin I have now been lamenting, the only instance of the wickedness and deceitfulness of my heart? Alas! it is not: I have innumerable proofs of its treachery; every day, every hour brings some, and gives me new cause for grief and repentance. I resolve frequently, no more to repine at the misfortunes I lie under; no more to look back with discontent, or forwards with distrust. And these resolutions I strengthen, by reflections on the wisdom of God: how much better he knows to chuse for me, than I could for myself; and how unavailing impatience is under ills, I cannot prevent. Then I consider how small my punishment is, in comparison of what I deserve, and should suffer, was not the Almighty infinitely merciful; and what blessings afflictions are productive of, when received with humility and resignation. *And yet after all this, how often do I catch my deceitful heart breathing an impious sigh, and by this secret complaint accusing Providence! How often are my eyes lift up, with a “Lord! why am I thus miserable? Why, while I see all around me gay and prosperous, must I alone be unfortunate, and mourn, without finding one to pity me? What have I done to deserve the being disappointed in every thing I have set my affections on, and deceived by every friend I have trusted?”――With this surprising boldness have I dared to expostulate with my Maker; and yet his mercy still allows me life, and time for repentance. Oh thou adorable Being! may I never more offend thee by a discontented word or thought: but grant that every faculty of my soul, may be in perfect resignation to thy will; and by this resignation, acquire that tranquillity and peace, which all the delights of the earth are not able to give.

Again. I resolve every day to be perfectly easy under every little mortification I may meet in the common occurrences of life. How weak (I cry) is it to be affected by the folly or ill-nature of the world! Why should I regard the sneers of people, whose low sentiments are only deserving pity? Can the unreasonable, and unjust notions of another, rob me of any real merit? Can an envious, a malicious, or a detracting speech, do me any material injury, unless I give it force myself, by my impatience and want of temper? No certainly: nothing from without can hurt me, but by my own fault. A mind fortified with religion, is proof against the darts of senseless tattle, or ill-natured wit. Firm and collected within itself, it smiles superior, and looks down on the ignorant and the malicious with pity.――These reflections are just; and Oh that I could reduce them into practice! But here I miserably fail. *After my soul has plumed herself with these fine notions, and is ready to pronounce herself equal to every trial, she sinks in the most shameful manner. A word, a look, nay the very appearance of a slight, throws me into the greatest uneasiness and confusion; and though I can govern my temper enough to hide it from the world, my heart is ready to burst with indignation. Strange weakness!――But why do I call it strange? Am I not too well acquainted with the fatal cause of this, and almost every sin I am guilty of? ’Tis vanity, that intolerable vanity, which mixes itself with all I act, or speak, or think. When I look strictly into my deceitful and wicked heart, I find it so full of this abominable vice, that I regard myself with horror and amazement; and yet perhaps the next moment, indulge in airy schemes and self-complacency. Sure there is not in the whole universe, so vain and sinful a wretch as I am! What can I hope for? What can I expect? Will not eternal rejection from the presence of God be justly my portion? Oh, thought of unutterable horror! My God! My only hope! Can I think of being for ever cast out from the light of thy countenance, and live? Why does not the dreadful idea at once put an end to my being? All the torments of damnation are summed up in these shocking words――Eternal rejection from thy presence!――Oh gracious and adorable being! let me not be thus beyond imagination cursed. In the name of my blessed Saviour, I implore thy pity! Oh look with compassion on a soul which pants for grace and forgiveness! A soul sensible of her weak and ♦polluted state, and entirely relying on thy mercy. O speak peace to this troubled sea, and all shall be calm! Give me strength to resist those temptations I so often sink under! But above all, change this wicked and deceitful heart, and give me a new heart and a new spirit. Mortify in me all proud thoughts and vain opinions of myself, and let not the blessings thou hast bestowed upon me increase my condemnation, by being made motives for pride and vainglory. Hear and grant my requests, Oh ever-merciful God, for the sake of Jesus Christ, our only Mediator and Redeemer. _Amen._

1748.

♦ “pollued” replaced with “polluted”

* * * * *

_Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden,
and I will refresh you._

THESE, Oh compassionate Saviour, were thy words; this thy gracious call, and I obey it. I come unto thee, Oh thou light of the world! for rest, peace and everlasting refreshment. Wearied with treading the paths of folly and vanity; wearied with deceitful hopes and idle fears, and all the gay delusions of this world, I come to thee for peace, and with full assurance of obtaining it. Assurance founded on thy promises; those promises which are truth itself: merciful as thy own ♦beneficent nature, and unalterable as thy being. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but thy word shall never fail. Encouraged by this word, I come: not even the reflection of my absolute unworthiness shall keep me from thee. ’Tis to sinners that this heavenly call is addressed; sinners that labour under the heavy burden of their offence; and such am I. The miserable wretch who is chained to the oar, is not more weary of his slavery, than I am of my sins: the sins which so easily beset me, and so often conquer my best resolutions. Every hour I have new reason to lament my weakness, and to confess that thy grace is my only refuge. O let that grace, which has kept me from all infamous crimes, be also my preservative against those sins of the mind, which, though hid from the short-sighted world, are all open to thee, and render my soul equally odious to the eye of heaven. Oh save me from myself! From my own proud thoughts and vain affections! I come to thee, blessed Jesus, that I may have rest: Oh give me that rest! Then shall all be perfect peace and harmony, and my soul shall feel no emotions but those of joy and gratitude, eternal gratitude to my gracious and Almighty Benefactor.

♦ “beneficient” replaced with “beneficent”

* * * * *

_This corruptible must put on incorruption,
and this mortal must put on immortality._

OH glorious and ever transporting thought! Sure and never failing remedy for all the troubles and disappointments of life!――Incorruption and immortality!――Let me dwell on the charming words: they carry peace and everlasting joy in the sound. And yet how little can my soul understand of their full import, clogged by the weight of flesh and blood? Darkened by this cloud of sin and error, what true idea can she form of incorruption? But if the faint shadow and distant prospect affords such delight, what will the full enjoyment give? Imagination is lost in the dazzling reflection! All the scenes of this lower world vanish as a mist before the sun: and my elevated soul wholly absorbed in contemplation of those mighty blessings seems to soar above the stars, and launch into the sea of eternity. My God! My everlasting hope! Great and adorable Creator of all things! Where shall I find words expressive of my wonder, my joy, and gratitude? Thy mercy, thy free, and boundless mercy, from nothing called me into being, and made that being capable of an endless duration: formed me for eternity! And what raises the benefit infinitely higher, for an eternity of happiness! Not the united power of men and devils can deprive me of this without my own consent: and if I am miserable I have no one to blame, except myself. O merciful God! I adore thee past all expression, and the notions I have of thy divine attributes inspire me with an unbounded confidence. Unworthy as I am of the least of all thy mercies, I cannot but hope for the greatest; and in the midst of my continual offences, I look up to thee, as my friend, my only refuge, and constant benefactor. When I grieve for my sins, ’tis not from fear of punishment, but from the cutting reflection of my black ingratitude, in offending my Creator and Preserver, the God in whom I live, and move, and have my being; the God to whom I owe infinitely more than I can conceive; to whom I owe the glorious, and the assured hopes of incorruption and immortality. And here again, O my soul, take wing, again lose thyself in the blissful prospect! Think on the joy thou wilt feel, when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption; when this companion (which in spite of the miseries it betrays thee into, is still dear and still too tenderly beloved) shall become (instead of a clog, or a prison) a vehicle pure and ethereal, perfectly fitted for all the purposes of thy enlarged faculties, and the completion of thy glory and happiness. O blessed and desirable re-union! State of permanent delight, and never fading joy! With what rapture does thy idea inspire my soul! Fired by thoughts like these, I rise far above the most glorious prospects, earth, with all her boasted varieties, can give. Pleasures, riches, honours, what are ye all? Emptiness and nothing.――At the least glimpse of eternal day, how ye vanish into soft air! Lost are all your shining toys; your painted glories intirely lost! And Oh may their deluding shadows never return to darken my soul! May the God whom I trust, preserve me from all their temptations; may his mercy ever protect and guide me, and bring me in the end to that state of incorruption and immortality, which I hope for through the merits and mediation of our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. _Amen._

* * * * *

_Then |Peter| said, Now know I that God is no respecter
of persons; but in every nation, he that feareth him and
worketh righteousness, is accepted of him._

THIS text is so strong a proof of the unreasonableness and folly of national or religious prejudices, that one would imagine it should intirely banish those odious and pernicious principles, from the whole Christian world. But daily experience too plainly discovers the contrary; and the very people who would be thought to have the greatest zeal for the good of souls, are of all others the readiest to condemn those who dissent from them. ’Tis a common (though false assertion) of libertines, that priests of all religions are the same. But they might truly affirm, that bigots of all religions are the same, equally destructive of the peace of their fellow-creatures, and the laws of civil society. What wild havock, what horrid scenes of blood and slaughter, have been produced by mistaken zeal and blind prejudice? The histories of former times abound with shocking instances of this kind; and, strange inconsistency! the persecuted party have no sooner got the upper hand, but they have, with the power, assumed the spirit of their persecutors, and been guilty of the very acts of injustice they had so loudly exclaimed against. ’Tis true, the degrees and kinds of persecution differ, according to the particular notions of the sects, or the particular law of the states where it is practised. But persecution, in whatever shape or degree, is still persecution, and proceeds from that spirit of prejudice and bigotry, which make us look on God as a respecter of persons, and on all those who differ from us as his enemies, and consequently, deserving nothing at our hands but contempt and cruelty. Thus the furious _Roman Catholic_ brands with the name of heretic, all who are without the pale of his church, pursues them with fire and sword in this world, and sentences them to eternal punishment in the next. And the staunch, sour _Protestant_ devoutly expatiates on the crying sin of idolatry, never thinks of the Pope without joining with him antichrist and the devil, absolutely pronounces the church of _Rome_ to be the whore of _Babylon_, and expects (with great Christian charity) that in a few ages more, she and all her members will be swallowed up in the bottomless pit, the lake of fire and brimstone. Nay, the bigots of (even) the little trifling sects into which the reformed religion is subdivided, all agree to damn each other, and wholly to appropriate to those of their own denomination, the title of God’s church, and God’s chosen.――Surprizing narrowness of soul! Worse than _Jewish_ stupidity! They had some excuse for their arrogancy: the particular manner in which Providence had distinguished them from the rest of the world, seemed to be some foundation for their pride to build on. And ’tis not to be wondered, that the dark shadow of the law should obscure the principle of universal benevolence. But that people under the glorious dispensation of the gospel, men who pretend to be followers of that Jesus, whose whole life was a scene of moderation and charity, who laid down his life for his enemies, and prayed for his murderers: in a word, that Christians should despise, hate, and persecute their fellow Christians, is a consideration equally melancholly and amazing! *Mistaken men! Is then the great Creator of the universe, the Preserver of all his creatures, the God of mercy, who would not that any one should perish, is this adorable Being a respecter of persons? Is his justice to be biassed by your foolish distinctions? Or his mercy lessened by your uncharitable judgments? In vain you would make the Almighty a party in your quarrel, and pretend to be fighting his cause! He disclaims such furious champions; nor will true religion allow of defenders, who are destroying the most glorious part of her system, that principle of universal charity, which in the apostolical times was the distinguishing mark of Christianity. It was then said, See how these Christians love one another! But now (sad contrast!) see how these Christians hate one another! Oh blessed and ever-merciful God! look down with compassion on the deplorable state of the Christian world! See how thy church is laid waste and rent asunder, by the fraud, malice, or blind zeal of particular men: in one place, over-run by superstition; in another, undermined by scepticism: and every where robbed of her primitive peace and purity. Oh restore that purity! Restore that peace! Heal her breaches, reform her superstitions, and grant that we may, with one heart and one mind, with universal love and unbounded charity to our fellow-creatures, and a firm and lively faith in our blessed Redeemer, adore thee the only true God; and, after a life of piety and virtue, attain one of unalterable glory and happiness. _Amen._

* * * * *

_O God, thou art my God! Early will I seek thee._

WHEN we are deprived of all the joys of life, betrayed by those we trusted, forsaken by our friends, triumphed over by our enemies, and robbed of our dearest hopes, where and to whom must we go for relief? What comfort can be hoped in a condition so desperate.――Will reflection on the past give us ease?――Alas! it makes our wounds still deeper; and every remembrance of the treachery of our friends, or the malice of our enemies, draws a new sigh from the opprest and aching heart, and a fresh tear from the sinking eye.――Shall we look forwards?――All dark and gloomy is the prospect, and the mind, wearied with affliction, and wholly deprest by grief and disappointments, shudders at the thought of launching again into the sea of delusions, of again trusting, and being again deceived. In circumstances so deplorable, nothing can calm our grief, nothing afford us one moment’s peace, but seeking early after God. And happy! Thrice happy! That soul, which can say with the royal _Psalmist_, _O God! thou art my God, my refuge in all my distresses, my only hope, and everlasting peace!_――A man who can look up to the great Author of nature, with a confidence like this, who can seek after God with full assurance of finding him, and in him a sure relief for all the troubles and miseries of life, is superior to all events, and may be happy in the most terrible afflictions. Is he deprived of his estate, reduced to a despised and unrelieved poverty? He is still rich in the pleasing hopes, that his God will one day bestow on him a glorious and never-failing inheritance. Is he by death robbed of his dearest friends? His grief is immediately calmed, by the thoughts of that eternal state to which he is every moment approaching, and where he will meet those dear objects of his tenderness, never, never to be parted from them more. Is his reputation made a sacrifice to spite and calumny, and himself condemned, reviled, and hated, by his acquaintance? Still true to his principles, and firm in his trust on the Almighty, he braves the storm, and with joy he looks forward to that day, when his accusers shall be covered with shame and confusion, and his innocence declared in the sight of men and angels. *Is he betrayed by those he trusted with an unbounded confidence, by those who were dear to him as himself, and for whose life he would freely have paid his own? Even in this affliction (which is of all others grating to human nature) he is still the most master of himself, and possessing his soul in patience and resignation, looks up to that friend who will never deceive him, to that God who is truth itself. Convinced of the folly of placing his love and trust on creatures, he fixes it wholly on the eternal Creator, and acknowledges with sincerity the mercy of God, in thus graciously releasing his heart from those deluding ties, which had so often drawn him from the centre of true happiness, the end of his being. Thus blessed is he, who can say with faith, gratitude, and humility, _O God, thou art my God_!――Grant, Oh most adorable and omnipotent Being! Grant me this glorious privilege! I have nothing more to ask. That thou art my God, is a blessing infinitely greater than the whole creation can bestow; infinitely beyond all I can ask or conceive. Possessed of this, I can defy the combined malice of men and devils. Welcome distress, poverty, disappointment, and affliction of all kinds, even what I have most dreaded! Welcome all, if it is the will of heaven! What hurt are ye capable of doing me, while I can say to the rock of ages, “Thou art my God?” And certainly, Oh thou fountain of life, and author of all good, ’tis thy gracious will that I should thus address thee; else why this firm reliance on thee in all my afflictions? Why this entire confidence on thy mercy and goodness, in the midst of my sufferings? How often, when my heart has been sinking under a load of sorrow, have I found relief and comfort, by applying to thee? In troubles, which I have thought impossible to be endured, thou hast been my support; and when at any time I have been tempted to discontent, and dared to murmur and complain, how quickly has thy grace inspired me with remorse for my impiety; and enabled me to make a new act of resignation to thy Providence! Sure and infallible proofs, that thou art my God! And Oh may I never repay those instances of thy compassion and tender mercy with ingratitude! Never more distrust the power which has so often delivered me! But grant, Almighty Father, that in all the trials thou hast allotted me in this mortal state, I may seek thee early, and in seeking thee, find all the blessings thou hast promised, peace and perfect tranquillity in this life, and everlasting joy and happiness in the next! These favours, these blessings I implore in the name, and for the sake of my merciful Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

EXTRACT from a
LITTLE DIARY.

*JANUARY 5, 1754‒5. Glory to the God of boundless mercy, who has this day, when sinking under great heaviness, both of soul and body, lifted up the light of his countenance upon me, and made me drink deep of his redeeming love.――Oh sweetest and most compassionate Jesus! How do thy tender mercies follow and support my soul! And still I am ungrateful, and still I am not as thou wouldst have me to be! Oh when wilt thou make a full end of sin, and bring in thy perfect righteousness? All things are possible to thee. And do I not know, do I not _taste_, that thou art gracious! O my sun, my shield, life of my life, look into my heart; I dare appeal to thine all-searching eye, that there is nothing so dear to it, but I would this moment part with it for thee! And why then, dearest Lord, wilt thou not form thy whole blessed image in my soul? My unworthiness I know is greater than that of any other creature in the universe; but this unworthiness will the more magnify thy mercy. I have only my unworthiness to plead; and I have no hope but in thy atoning blood: Oh let this blood, which has bought my peace, cleanse me also from every sin; and let that blessed Spirit, who has sealed and witnessed this _peace_ to my soul, be now a spirit of burning, to consume all my dross, and to purify me even as――Oh glorious prospect, heart-enlivening hope, let me sink into the dust before thee! God of glory, God of purity, I am lost in self-abasement! But hast thou not promised? And wilt thou not fulfil thine own gracious word? O give me then perfect sanctification of body, soul, and spirit; and let this heavy cross, which seems now coming upon me, be, by thy all-powerful grace, turned into a means of forwarding thy blessed work in my soul. Let every bitter cup which thou permittest to be given me, be joyfully received, as serving in some degree to conform me to thy sufferings; and let me in all things, though ever so contrary to my corrupt nature, give thanks, and say continually, Lord, not my will, but thine be done. _Amen._

LETTERS
Wrote by
JANE COOPER:
To which is prefixt
Some _Account_ of her LIFE and DEATH.

The PREFACE.

1. THE good _Armelle_ has been heard of far and wide. Her life has been written at large, containing several hundred pages, translated into various languages, and published almost in all parts of _Europe_, by persons of various persuasions. Her deep, solid, unaffected piety, has recommended her to those of all denominations, who regarded not mere opinions, but the genuine work of God; _righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost_.

2. But it is impossible to give so full an account of this good young woman, whose station in life, was the same for some years. She had no such director of her conscience, who was informed (like those in the _Roman_ church) of the minutest particulars, relating either to her internal or external walking with God. And she wrote no circumstantial account of herself. We have only some hints occasionally written, either for her own private use, or the satisfaction of her friends. And the greatest part even of her letters are lost: particularly those of which she took the most pains in writing. So that what follows are little more than fragments.

“_But though they’re little, they are golden sands._”

In several respects not inferior to any thing in the life of _Armelle Nicholas_: in others greatly superior thereto. For first, All here is _genuine_; which I fear is not the case in the account given us of _Armelle_. For words are there put into her mouth, which I think she could not possibly utter. For instance. She is made to say, “I had always such a sense of my sins, that I never felt pride in my life.” Could any one born of a woman say this? Is it not an embellishment added by her historian?

3. Secondly, All here is _strong, sterling sense_, strictly agreeable to sound reason. Here are no extravagant flights, no mystic reveries, no unscriptural enthusiasm. The sentiments are all just and noble; the result of a fine natural understanding, cultivated by conversation, thinking, reading, and true Christian experience. At the same time they shew an heart as well improved as the understanding; truly devoted to God, and filled in a very uncommon degree, with the entire _fruit_ of his Spirit.

4. Thirdly, This strong genuine sense is expressed in such a _stile_, as none would expect from a _young servant maid_: a stile simple and artless in the highest degree, but likewise clear, lively, proper: every phrase, every word being so well chosen, yea, and so well placed, that it is not easy to mend it. And such an inexpressible sweetness runs through the whole, as art would in vain strive to imitate.

So JANE COOPER wrote, and spoke, and lived! Thou that readest, _go and do likewise_!

SOME ACCOUNT
OF THE
LIFE AND DEATH
OF
JANE COOPER.