(part 2)
To E. M., March 1856.
Much-beloved in Jesus,
I must send you another thought or two on our last subject. You know it was
Spiritual Declension, and consequent lack of savor and unction in living
souls. We were especially considering the cases of those who have been kept
accurate in all outward observances, active in works of charity, and even
been zealous promoters of the salvation of others. Sad, indeed, is a case
like this; but I am forcibly arrested with the possibility of such being
convicted of the state—but not converted from it. An acknowledgment of
wandering is not return; a consciousness of a dry, barren state is not
restoration. Perhaps you can hardly conceive a living soul, convinced of
being in the wrong and lingering there, without earnestly and diligently
seeking after the right—but I can; for this bad, bad heart has experienced
what drowsiness and listlessness sometimes follow sleep, when there is no
heart to arise and call upon the Lord for deliverance. Seeing the case to be
bad, we just shrink from knowing it fully, and fear rather to be thoroughly
aroused to reap painfully what has been sown to the flesh, than desire at
any cost to be brought back to close communion with our God.
Look at Jonah: he knew he was a wanderer—but there seemed
no anxiety to return; he would rather forget it in sleep. The storm was the
Lord's messenger to oblige the man to awaken him, and the fish His servant
to swallow him up; so that from his senseless sleep he must go down to "the
belly of hell," to make him heartily call upon his God; and from that low
place the sweet song was to be put into his mouth, "Salvation is of the
Lord." Not only salvation from hell is of the Lord—but also the many
experimental salvations which we need on our pilgrim journey. And
oh! it is a blessed salvation to be brought near when there has been a
following of "Jesus afar off;" and by His precious blood to be purged and
cleansed from our own doings, works, and inventions, when they have come to
be like a crowd between the soul and Him. It is blessed to have any secret
thing taken away which makes the consolations of God small with us. But here
is the trying point—whatever is between God and the soul must be taken away
to restore nearness; and this is a sacrifice at which most of us tremble,
finding it easier to condemn the wrong in others, and even to acknowledge it
in ourselves, than to ask the Lord honestly and heartily to take it away.
As I said before, there are many in this busy but
cold-hearted day, many of the Lord's people who are most active and
energetic in His service—but the cream of their communion is gone,
and the fire of love has languished. There are sounds of Jesus and
salvation on the lips—but none of His sweet savor flowing from their hearts,
nor any of His fresh tokens to tell to those who fear His name. (Psalm
66:16) Some are in a measure aroused to a sense of their state—but are not
delivered from it; they know that it is not with them as in years gone
past—but they are too busy to give close attention to personal facts, and to
be really diligent to know the state of their own flocks and herds. (Prov.
27:23) They desire a change in their experience—but have not time to seek
it, and in this sense are like the slothful who "desires and has nothing." (Prov.
13:4) All their energies go out another way, and they are too closely
occupied with their religious engagements to follow their Lord, who withdrew
from the multitude into the wilderness and prayed, and who another time
"went up into a mountain to pray," and on another occasion "continued all
night in prayer to God." O my beloved, did the immaculate Lamb of God so
much use retirement and prayer, as we find by many portions of Scripture He
did? How much more do we need it who have sin dwelling in us, and often
working under the most specious forms! The truth is, we cannot thrive
without it.
Where the experience has indeed become as a wilderness,
what double need there is to withdraw from the cases of others, and cry
mightily unto God to make that "wilderness rejoice and blossom as the rose."
Where there has been much talking about gospel day—but long, long
night within, what cause is there to withdraw from all, and wrestle with
Him, who "turns the shadow of death into morning." (Amos 5:8) In so doing
the feeling of the wilderness state will probably deepen before the
rejoicing returns, and the night will seem to grow darker before the bright
shining of the Sun of Righteousness rises again upon the soul. Still, the
blessed Spirit can enable us to endure; and though He keeps the soul waiting
for the Sun and watching for Him, "more than those who watch for the
morning," yet such experience shall not be in vain, for "blessed are those
who wait for Him," and "they that wait on the Lord shall renew their
strength." However weak they have become, the Lord does renew His people's
youth like the eagles, and causes them to sing as in the day when He brought
them up out of Egypt.
It may seem presumptuous in me thus to speak of the state
of useful active Christians; but if some are watching while others are
working, they should give the result of their observations for the general
good; and especially if they discover danger, should give an alarm. Now this
is just what I feel. I am fast nearing eternity, and am proving the deep
importance of having matters clear between God and the soul. Moreover, He
has been pleased to give me much close retirement with Himself, and a little
power of observing what is going on in the Church. Finding, therefore, many
active members of the royal family shy at court, and having very little
personal fellowship with the King, my heart yearns towards them, and the
love of Christ constrains me to say, "My brethren, these things ought not so
to be;" "shall not God search this out? for He knows the secrets of the
heart," and if the searching out should be on the deathbed, and the wood,
hay, and stubble have to be burned up then, how bitter would it be. Oh, I
would cry mightily unto God for myself, and the whole living family, that by
His Spirit He would search our hearts as with a candle, and discover to us
wherein they are in any measure departing from Himself; also that He would
not let us shrink from the light when we feel some convictions of an
evil—but cause us to desire and seek to know it fully, and to be brought to
the light to have our deeds reproved, and our souls delivered as a bird from
the snare of the fowler.
I earnestly desire to know the real state of my case, and
to have my soul laid open to the "sword of the Spirit, which is the word of
God;" for whom He loves He wounds, and whom He wounds He will heal. Faithful
are the wounds of this Friend, though painful; and I would rather covet them
than hear Him say--'Let her alone; she has loved idols, after idols let her
go.' Oh no, my precious Jesus; I could not bear that, even for a
little while; I want to be continually with You in my own experience, to
know much of Your mind, enjoy much of Your love, and daily to walk with You
in endearing communion. I want this also for the whole living family, and
would especially plead for those zealous workers who are promoting every
means to bring others to You, yet themselves rarely see Your face or hear
Your voice, and yet are not in mourning about it. Oh, grant them a revival,
a re-quickening, a return, and a daily partaking of those fruits they are
commending to others. Put in Your pierced hand by the hole of the door of
their heart, and cause their affections to be moved for You, (Song 5:4) that
with earnest longings they may say, "I will rise now," and go forth and
"seek Him whom my soul loves." (Song 3:2)
O precious Savior, we would seek You for them, and seek
You with them, for our soul can never be satisfied with dwelling at
Jerusalem without seeing the King's face. Shine on us, shine in us, shine
through us; and in such light there will be living warmth. Bring us to sit
at Your dear feet, and lean upon Your bosom, and through much communion with
You to be fragrant with Your perfumes, and thus to be refreshing to each
other. Thus shall the Three-one Jehovah have glory, to whom Your poor
handmaid gives heartfelt, though feeble praise: "Blessed be the Lord God of
Israel, from everlasting to everlasting. Amen, and amen."
One word more, dearest friend. The thought arose in my
mind, What is the best means to be used for one conscious of decay, and
longing to be restored to freshness of experience? Of course a fresh view of
Jesus by faith—"Look unto me, and be saved." "They looked unto Him and were
lightened, and their faces were not ashamed;" and the place to get this view
is the Throne of grace—"Pour out your heart before Him." When the Lord was
promising a gracious return to Israel He said—"With weeping and with
supplication will I lead them." While thinking thus, I opened the blessed
Book, and was forcibly arrested with these words about the transfiguration
of our blessed Lord, "And as he prayed, the fashion of his countenance was
altered." Oh, it did tell upon my heart, which went forth in earnest
longings that such souls as have descended, in whom the fine gold has become
dim, might, in an experimental sense, have it fulfilled in them; being by
the Spirit brought into fervent prayer, and as they pray, the fashion of
their spiritual countenance might be altered from dimness to brightness, by
the glory of their Lord arising afresh upon them, as in Isaiah 60:1, and 2
Cor. 3:18.
May we also constantly experience the same, for I feel
how much we need these Divine renewings. I do like to have some personal
applications of what I write or say, without which we are apt to fall into a
mere intellectual way of speaking or writing, which is not wholesome for the
soul, and helps to bring about the dearth we have been lamenting. And now
may He, to whom all power belongs, bless what is His, pardon what is mine,
and give you that profit in reading which, to His praise I confess, He has
granted me in writing—He knows how to speak a word in season. Oh, what
joy will it be to get home and see our Savior face to face!
In Him I remain, with much warm love, your ever
affectionate,
Ruth—less than the least.