(WRITTEN BY HER OWN HAND.)
(Continued from page 418.)
EDINBURGH, 1st January, 1699.
THIS day I set apart for fasting and prayer, as also that I might get myself of new fastened to the Lord. There were two or three duties I was mostly taken up with this day: first, Resignation; secondly, Supplication; in which duties I gave myself up to the Lord in covenant. I remember a word Mr. James Kirkton frequently expressed, concerning covenanting: “In your covenanting,” said he, “make it as sure as you can think it, write it, speak it, and pray it;” for which he gave that scripture, Neh.ix.38, “And for all this, we make a sure covenant, and write it.” So, I in my covenanting this day, made an entire resignation of myself to His service, that I might serve Him in my generation. I in this place gave myself to be wholly at His disposal, my relations, my enjoyments, my name, my substance, if ever I should have any: in a word, I gave all to the Lord, to do and suffer whatever He pleases and calls me to, on condition He gave me strength to do it. I deny all strength of my own to do any thing that is good; daily experience hath taught me the truth of this; therefore, O Lord, I again and again give up myself to Thee, in a sacrifice to Thee this day; and in testimony hereof, I have thought it, I have spoken it in prayer and now am writing it.
In the next place, I come to supplicate the throne of grace, as a poor needy beggar, all made up of wants. I here this day supplicate, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, that I may get an inhabitation of the Holy Spirit, so that the same mind may be in me that was in Jesus Christ; the same spirit of faith, instead of unbelief and atheism; the spirit of wisdom, instead of ignorance; and sanctification and holiness instead of corruptions. O that from this day I might get my heart, mind, and meditations, set on things above, instead of my carnality, and wanderings on the mountains of vanity! Now, O Lord, Thou knowest every step I am to go through this weary wilderness: I here this day accept of Thee to be my guide, that I turn not to the right or to the left. If it shall please Thee to tryst me with adversity and affliction, then, Lord, grant me patience and submission: be Thou present with me by Thy Holy Spirit to shew me my duty; and let not unbelief prevail against me, as formerly. But if it shall please Thee to tryst me with that dangerous lot of prosperity, I accept of Thee, this day, as a king to rule and conquer me. O let me not be left alone in this condition, but charge every thing that is mine, to be Thine. If any of Thy poor members want, and I have, then, I beseech Thee draw it from me to supply them; make me a real member of Thy body, that I may have a sympathy with all that are in distress. I this day take heaven and earth to witness that I am content to be denied any temporal enjoyment, on condition that I get communion and fellowship with the Holy Spirit; and that, in whatsoever state or station Thou set me in, let me always have a conversation becoming the gospel; and whatsoever duty Thou calls me to, give me light and strength to perform it, and let Thy glory be the very end of all my actions whatsoever. Also learn me a lesson of retaining the Spirit; keep me from sinning, or doing any thing the Spirit cannot dwell with. Now, O Lord, Thou knowest I will never keep a word I speak, unless Thou give me a double portion of Thy Spirit: so I put all my resolutions in Thy hand to keep them till I stand in need of them. I must acknowledge this was a day to be kept in remembrance by me: I got leave to pour out all my requests before Him, both for myself and others, and to believe I was accepted. About the evening, that word came, “This is my rest, here will I stay, for I do love it well.”
On the morrow after, it being a day wherein much foolishness is committed by the generality of people, I was occasionally among some of them, but had better been somewhere else: I found the frame of my spirit growing very carnal; this afflicted me mightily when I went to duty. But, ere I came away, that word came, “I acknowledged my sin unto Thee, and Thou forgavest the iniquity thereof.” All that I shall say as to the superstitious observing of these days (which I may call the dregs of idolatry), is this, I wish the very name of them were done out of our land, for they are good for nothing but to destroy the life and power of religion, and to foster up carnality and sensuality. Now, to give an account how I spent this year is somewhat difficult for me to do; But this I am sure of, it was a year of many miseries, and also of some sore trials.
In the beginning of it, I lived, as it were, in the suburbs of heaven; in the next part of it, I lived, as it were, at the very borders of hell, in my spirit; in the last part of it, I met with some very remarkable providences.
I shall begin with the first part, in which time I was greatly privileged with the assistance of the Spirit in every duty, but especially in reading of the Scriptures; a sweeter time than this I never enjoyed, for I saw that in the scriptures which I never saw before. The reason why I mention this, is, because a little before, I was regretting that of all the books I ever read, the Scriptures were the darkest to understand. I was like the Ethiopian Eunuch: I read, but I understood not. There were two things I compared the Scriptures to: First, I thought they were like a cabinet full of shuttles, and in every shuttle there was a jewel: but the cabinet was fast locked, so that I saw nothing but the outside, and the keeper of the keys was gone, who was the Spirit of God. Secondly, I compared them to a candle, the which I had in my hand to light me through the dark wilderness. But what the better was I? for the candle was not lighted, which made me to stumble, and that frequently; but in His own due time He opened the cabinet, and lighted the candle, so that I saw very excellent sights, well worth the recording, it being the forerunner of a deferred promise, and confirmed in the same.
O but the Lord multiplied mercies on me at this time, so that they passed my recording! I again hearing that the sacrament was to be given at Prestonpans, it was no small encouragement to me, considering what glorious days I had seen and felt there.
On the Sabbath before, I found some vehement desires arising in my heart to be there; where I besought the Lord that he would not suffer me to sin that sin that would hinder my communion with Himself; for I saw more in having communion and fellowship with God, than in having all the enjoyments in the world. I cared for nothing but Himself; they were but all loss and dung in comparison of sweet Jesus; yet through the week I was in a very ill case, being deserted; I could do nothing but sin, and wander in wrong ways; this bred fears in me, lest I should meet with an absent God in the sacrament.
On Saturday I went to the place, where Mr. Matthew Reid was on these words (Matt. v. 8), “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” where he observed that those who were truly seeking God should so see Him as to have communion and fellowship with Him. This was good news to me. But after him came Mr. John Moncrief, who preached on these words (Lev. x.), where Nadab and Abihu offered strange fire, and were consumed before the Lord: where he observed that rash approaches to God in solemn duties were very dangerous. He spake to many dangers that were in it. At length he started an objection: “Well,” say some, “if it be so dangerous, we shall not put ourselves in that hazard, for we shall bide away.” Then did he hold out the sin of neglecting such a solemn occasion, and that it was a sin of a very grievous nature, and was as dangerous as the other. This put me to a stand what to do, considering my misbehaviour through the week; but when I came home to my quarters, and went to secret duty, the Lord came wonderfully to my soul with a great manifestation of His love, which struck me with wonder and astonishment at his free and undeserved love; where the instances of Naaman the Syrian, and the widow of Sarepta came in my mind, which wrought strongly on me, so that I could do nothing but wonder and praise, and praise and wonder.
On the morrow, which was 19th February, 1699, that morning, as I waked, that word seized on me, “Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors, that the King of Glory may come in.” Where I was helped to open my heart to receive the King of Glory in all His offices, as Prophet, Priest, and King.
Mr. George Andrew was on Rev. iii. 20, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any man open the door, I will come in, and will sup with him, and he with me.” From this text he spoke particularly to my case, as if he had known my errand there. I communicated at the first table, where I got as sweet communion as ever I experienced all my life. I cannot testify it with my pen; but this I am sure of, I never got such an humbling sight of a Mediator as now. It laid me in the dust, thinking what was I more than others, that He should lay His love on me, and pass by many others that never committed the half of my sins! For, of a truth, I saw myself the greatest sinner that was upon the face of the earth; for my sins were attended with many aggravations. O my salvation! the greatest wonder that ever was! Angels wonder! glorified saints wonder! and let your harps be spent in praising the Mediator of my salvation. O praise Him for me, until it shall please Him to bring me among you, where I shall be for ever singing praises to Him. I think my voice shall be loudest in wondering at free grace, when I consider what I was, whose I was, and what I am like to prove; and yet nothing could hinder free love. Now, O Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do for Thee? tell me, and then give me strength to perform. I have a body of sin and death, which will hinder me, for it is like to be a very heavy burden on my back, as I go through this weary wilderness, if Thou support me not. I could have wished all my Christian acquaintances a crumb of what I was feasting with, that it might make them lay by their farms and merchandise, as to the too hot pursuit thereof. O for some of this to Protestants in France, who are in the flames of persecution! for I thought it would sweeten the hottest furnace that could be kindled by men. I sought also for my parents, and brother in particular, whose case ay very heavy on my spirit. Now the Lord was very gracious to me, and strengthened me to pour out my requests; but I saw that I must wait by faith for an answer to them. What name shall I put on the place where I was, at the head of a yard in Preston town? It may be called Bethel, or Ebenezer; for there the Lord helped me, and engaged me to fight all my spiritual enemies; especially unbelief, atheism, and myself. Then were the graces of the Spirit set on exercise; but especially these two, faith and love.
I also had some impression on my spirit, of the judgments that were coming on the land, which had this language to me: “In the day of your plenty, prepare for famine.”
I also saw some extraordinary trial that I was to meet with shortly, from what airt I knew not. I must acknowledge, to the glory and praise of the most high God, that this was one of the greatest communions ever I enjoyed; for it was not only sweet to me on the communion day, but, even some time after, the thoughts of it were a new communion to me.
Wednesday next I set apart for secret duties, separating myself from worldly business to spend that day in secret, where I got even all that my heart could wish for—(but what if I shall say that this was my farewell communion for some years?)—there was not the least doubt or cloud remained, and many sweet lessons got I taught me this day, which I desire never to forget. I was so full of joy that I could not conceal it; but, as I was telling to some of my comrades what God had done to my soul, one of them says to me, “Surely you have some great trial to meet with, your privileges are so very great.” Ah, alas, alas! her words came soon to pass.
Now, I am in a strait how to record what grief, trouble, and anguish of spirit I was brought under; I may say, I never knew what troubles of spirit were till now; all that I met with before were but flea-bites in comparison of this. Satan, the great enemy of man’s salvation, and also of their comfort, he begins anew with me, with sore and mighty temptations, the ground of which was this: As I was showing before, I, at this time, was greatly countenanced in reading the Scriptures, so that I could not pass over a chapter but where I got some lesson taught me, which was both pleasant and profitable to me. I continued in this for some time. Then came the tempter to me, with these suggestions, “What is this you are doing; cannot the ordinary duties of religion serve you, as they do many better Christians, but you must enterprise duties that belong not to any of your station?” With these and the like temptations, I left off reading the Scriptures this way, and read them as carelessly as before; but it was a woful doing to me, for it was the forerunner of much vexation on my spirit. On the back of this there seized a great deadness on me, so that I could perform no duty; and that word was frequently in my mouth, “Hath the Lord forgotten to be gracious? will he be favourable no more? is his mercy clean gone? does his word fail evermore?”
On Saturday morning, which was the first day of April (one of the dreadfulest days that ever I saw), that word ran frequently in my mind, “Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen,” yet could perform no duty. I went to secret, but found nothing but deadness. I went in the afternoon to meet with my comrades, which was the day we met together for prayer; but, being so ill, I parted with them without praying, which was not my ordinary. I came home again to try secret prayer, but still continued in a dead disposition; then did I resolve to go spend some time in ordinary discourse with the rest of the family, but I had not sat long there till there arose a terrible storm in my mind, inconceivable by any but myself: “You may see by providences, that the promises are all contradicted; so that all that you have called faith in the promises is perfect delusion and fancy.” This touched me to the quick, and soon made me leave my company. I went to duty, as in a fit of distraction, with that word in my mouth, “Now the child is dead, and there is no more hope for me”; I can believe no more either for one thing or another; all that ever I met with hath been believing on a lie. In this sore extremity, I fell down on my knees, and said, “This shall be the last duty ever I shall perform: I will now live in the neglect of all religious duties.” And many such like expressions I uttered, which are not convenient for me to set down; yea, I thought it impossible for men and angels to reconcile the promises and providences together. There were some promises given me, for a ground of hope, for the out-making of some things which were matter of faith to me; but in this tempestuous storm they were all made shipwreck of, and lost: the first was my own salvation, the second was the performing of this dark exercise. God only knows what condition I was in; all other trials were nothing to this, for I was like to lose my natural judgment. In the meantime, when I was thus tossed, these scriptures sounded in mine ears, “Is there anything too hard for the Lord? Heaven and earth shall pass away; but one jot of my words shall not fail. And of all that the Lord hath spoken there hath not one word failed. Only believe,” &c. But there was so much unbelief and atheism in my heart, that I could believe nothing; but, like the deaf adder, I stopped my ears and would not hear any such thing. O this night! this dismal night, where I was made to question whether there was any reality in religion, yea, or not? Then I was tempted to go and burn all my former experiences; for they would prove all nought at last, says the tempter, so that it is best to put all out of the gate in time; for, if any shall hear of your written covenant and meditations, and yet see you in hell, how will this gnaw you? But to this temptation I did not yield.
In this case I could do nothing but sigh and groan; for I was put beyond weeping. Then did that word come, “Shall not the judge of all the earth do right?” But all things were alike to me, for I could believe nothing. Strong were the effects that this night’s trouble brought, both on my body and spirit. I fell in a great fit, and was very melancholy, so as it was observable. One questioned me, what it was that ailed me? for she saw a great change on me; but this question I would resolve to none (but only one comrade), for I saw that none could help me; so that I kept it as quiet as possible. Then took I a great dulness in my hearing, so that I heard none, unless they spoke very loud. I was very ill of a cough and pain in my side, so that it was concluded I was dying. O, but what was all that on my body in respect of what I felt on my soul? Duties were a burden to me, for I could find ease in none of them. Then did I begin to sympathise with them I heard prayed for in the kirk, under trouble of mind. I found that word to be true, “A man may bear his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear?”
All the glorious days I had enjoyed were no more comfortable to me than the thoughts of seeing would be to a man who had his eyes put out. Great and terrible was the blindness I was under, and remained for some time under; so that, for that time I could record nothing for edification, I was so distracted and distempered at this time. I read frequently the 13th Psalm with some sort of satisfaction; but I no sooner closed the book but I closed all in with it. Again I went to some solemn occasions, but I found nothing but an absent God.
I was at Uphall Communion, 1st May, 1699, at Lasswade in June, at the West Kirk both the days in August, where I got some small glimmerings, but they were hardly discernible. O then, how it gnawed me to the heart, that I had so sillily yielded to Satan’s temptations, in laying by these duties wherein God had so singularly countenanced me! I saw it to be downright resisting and quenching of the Spirit. But, strange and wonderful hath the Lord’s way been with me; He was again pleased in some measure to manifest to me some tokens of His love; but it was with a rod in His hand, to correct His stubborn, rebellious, and apostatizing child; and well did I deserve it. But, O happy rod! O blessed cross that Christ comes in!
Upon a day in November, being Friday, as I was hearing sermon in the Tron Kirk, I found myself in a very wandering disposition, and wearied mightily of the sermon, and I was resolved to come out before prayer; but fearing I should be an ill example to others, I sat still, but very impatiently, for my heart was not where my body was. In the meantime, when Mr. Meldrum was baptizing some children, there was a dog bit my leg most desperately. I no sooner received this but I saw the hand of God in it, and could not but acknowledge “Righteous art thou, O Lord, in all thy procedure against me.” Now, how shall I observe the goodness of God in this providential dispensation? There are two things which I think worth the remarking. After I came home and knew the hurt I had got, and wist not what to apply to it, for it seemed very dangerous, I retired alone, where the Lord seemed to be in speaking terms with me. This refreshed my spirits. And in the meantime, when I was thus perplexed, there came a physician to the house providentially, not knowing that anything ailed me; but it was the Lord that sent him, and he applied something to it, which in a short time proved effectual, contrary to the expectations of many. Secondly, I must acknowledge God wrought a piece of providence to get me a quiet place where I might be alone. The whole day almost—in the afternoon or morning—there were a great many people that met in our house, so that I could not have got an empty corner in it all, but providence so ordered it that they convened not together till near the evening. I saw more in this than I can tell; during which time I got leave to pour out my mind before the Lord, and could not but bless Him though I had been made a cripple, which He prevented. And that word ran much with me—”He doeth all things well; he maketh both the deaf to hear and the dumb to speak.”
A little after this my brother takes a fever. When I heard first of it, it struck me a little dumpish; but before I went to the place where he was, I retired alone a little space, where that word came, “His sickness is not unto death, but to the glory of God.” In which place I was made to act faith for his recovery or ever I saw him or knew what ailed him. When I came to the place where he was I saw his fever increasing, and that strongly, and in two days or three my faith began to stagger, for I truly thought he was dying. But as I was at duty on his account that word came, “Wherefore are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? I have heard thy prayers, I have seen thy tears, I have added to his days”; with this also, “He is ever mindful of His promises.” He still grew worse, and I revealed my mind to one that I knew was truly religious, and asked him what I should think of these promises if he should die. His answer was very good on the matter, but very unsavoury to me.
It pleased the Lord he got a cool, and pretty well recovered, so that I thought all fears were over. About nine days after, one comes from him, and tells me he is in the fever again. He told me in such a haste, and so surprisingly, that I took a terrible fit of trembling, and could scarcely speak. He relapsed and grew worse than ever, and faith and sense had a strong battle in my breast; for I persuaded myself he would die, and what then would become of the promises? Unbelief wrought so with me that it was almost impossible for me to resist it, and still harped upon it thus, If the promise fail, so will all the rest ever you got. Only the Lord knows what distress this brought on my spirit. I could scarcely get it hidden. When my father and mother perceived something grieved me, they chided on me mightily, thinking it was for fear of my brother, and fearing that I would cast myself in sickness also; but this was the least of my fear. It is very observable, while I was thus vexing myself I durst not go to prayer; for this was one of Satan’s stratagems—always to keep me from prayer, by telling me I need not pray for I am not heard. How shall I testify the goodness of God, who is always a friend in time of need to poor, faithless, undeserving, and ungrateful me? This night I was brought to a sweet calm and composure of spirit, and while I was in meditating, before I went to prayer, these scriptures came with life and power, “I am thy salvation. Through many tribulations you must enter into the kingdom of heaven.” By this I was warned I was to meet with some more trials near at hand. Then came that word, “Despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, neither be weary of his correction.” By these words, “neither be weary,” I saw that my trial was to be lengthened out for some time. Now do I know that the Lord favioureth me because the enemy prevaileth not against me. When I went to prayer, unbelief—as a liar—fled, and durst not appear before the Lord but in its own colours, which was that it was an enemy to the glory of God, so that I might know it would be an enemy to me; where I got leave to plead against it, and that Christ, as a King, would conquer all his and my enemies.
In that duty I was also confirmed, by my brother’s recovery, from that word (Psalm cxviii. 17, 18), “He shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord. He hath chastened him sore, but not given him over to death.” Notwithstanding of this I saw I was to lose a very near relation, which I judged would be my father and mother. The thoughts of this were not easy to me on many accounts, but let the Lord do with me and mine what He pleases.
It pleased the Lord that my brother recovered of his fever, although he was a great deal worse in this than in the first, during which time I had many sweet hours’ communion with God. I may say affliction is a good thing when the Lord is in it.
After this night the fright I had gotten before had flown into my breast, so that it boiled, and was very troublesome to me. This was a new trial to afflict me, and still the word ran in my mind, “Be not weary of his correction.” O, that I knew how to commend the Lord’s way to all—both to strangers and friends; and it becomes me well so to do. I lay under many obligations to serve Him, and this among the rest, that He was my physician—both to soul and body—and blessed simple medicines that were applied to it, for I would not let either chirurgeon or doctor lay their hands on it. It pleased the Lord that I recovered of this trouble also, and a song of praise was put in my mouth for it; yet still that word ran with me, “Do not weary of his correction.” By this I thought that my trials were not all over, thinking that there is some trouble I am to meet with yet.
(To be Continued.)
The Craze for Union.
—In these times one can hardly take up a religious paper dealing with Scottish religious life but there will be some reference to proposed unions. In fact, it is a sign of the age that much more stress is being laid upon union than upon scriptural purity. But prior to a scriptural union of the Churches in Scotland, there must be a rich baptism of the Holy Spirit and signs of repentance for backsliding. Dr. Mair, emeritus parish minister of Earlston, has drawn up a Bill which he believes will pave the way for a larger union, and Mr. MacPherson, the able editor of the Edinburgh Evening News, has an interesting article in the February number of Blackwood’s Magazine dealing with this same question. From our standpoint it is chiefly interesting for the stress Mr. MacPherson lays on the Reformation ideal of national religion. The latest in the above direction is a movement by young men in Edinburgh to bring about one United Church for Scotland. They had their first meeting on the 11th March, which was addressed by Lord Salvesen. All this looks very promising, and, as an ideal state of things, many are longing for it. But, to us, these efforts have this fatal objection, that they are much more concerned with outward union than they are with scriptural purity, which is a sine qua non of a union owned of heaven.