Letter by the Rev. John Campbell to the Rev. John Newton.
The Rev. John Campbell, the writer of the subjoined letter to John Newton, was in Newton’s old age his chief correspondent. He was of Perthshire descent, was born and brought up in Edinburgh, and from his youth mixed with the most serious circles there. He was much attached to Dr. John Erskine, Dr. John Colquhoun, and the other godly ministers then about Edinburgh. He was early brought under the influences of the Gospel, and became a favourite correspondent of the Countess of Leven, Whitefield’s friend. He was foremost in every good enterprise about the metropolis in his day, and after the severe and sweet discipline he underwent, as recorded in this letter, his mind was directed to enter the ministry. He became one of James Haldane’s companions in his Gospel tours through Scotland, and was finally settled as Congregational minister in Kingsland Chapel, London. The London Missionary Society, in its early and great days, when Dr. Love was its secretary, found one of its warmest friends in John Campbell. He repeatedly visited its mission stations in South Africa, and at home he advocated its claims throughout Britain. Born in the year 1766, he died in the year 1842.
“MY DEAR AND REV. SIR,—
“I am deep in your debt for a train of favours, for which I have often thanked you; and still a grateful remembrance is retained. I cannot give a greater proof of my confidence, than by committing to your trust a brief detail of my late extraordinary case and cure. This I promised to do in a former letter, saying that my main intention was by it to capacitate you still more for speaking a proposito to the case of distressed, disturbed minds, as they came in your way. My motive is not altered.
“I am not very anxious whether my friends may judge me a believer or not, previous to my furnace-state; but I have no freedom myself in calling it in question. If not a believer, I was greatly mistaken indeed; surely I ate bread of which the world are ignorant—at least I think so. I was awakened by the testimony of Jesus; after a term of terror, I was comforted by the doctrine of a Saviour. Perhaps I attained to the stature of A in Omicron; I am certain I thought so.
“My knowledge of downright believing was exceedingly scanty; my hopes were too easily raised or sunk, in proportion to the fineness or agreeableness of my inward feelings on the one hand, and their dulness or disagreeableness on the other. I was not fully instructed in the unchangeableness of the Divine veracity and love. I mean no reflection against my teachers, but only against my own perception of the truths revealed and taught. I read the Bible; but my mind was not sufficiently opened simply to receive what it taught me, without innermixing fancied trash of my own. I knew some of my contemporary brethren were in the same predicament, if language has an affixed meaning. They spoke like me, so I suppose they felt like me. But waving this, the length I afterwards went in secret departure from the God of Abraham was great! As a singular monument of the super-abounding riches of saving, sovereign, redeeming mercy, I say what follows:—
“My falling away was gradual, like the declension from noon to night. I think the decay of comfort in secret prayer was the first bad symptom which made its appearance. This ruffled me for a while, but it soon became familiar as a companion, and caused little uneasiness. I had pleasure in attending the administration of the Word for a long time after this took place; and when this, in a great degree, abated, my profession dwindled into formality. All along I had a regard for the truly godly, and associated with none else: these were the men of my councils. For a considerable time I had little heart for attending private societies of Christians, and was pleased when apparently good excuse presented for non-attendance; though, upon the whole, I was one of the most regular attendants on the meetings of which I was a member. I am relating facts, so must not accuse myself except where guilty. At this time I knew I was doing wrong, and lazily wished I had a heart to do better, but had no resolution to prosecute my desire.
“In my worst situation I had a keen desire to be useful to others; and I cannot say it was wholly from selfish motives. I had often an opportunity of visiting the sick and the dying, but seldom possessed a proper spirit or frame for talking to them in a way consonant to their case. Though the poor creatures might seem on the frontiers of eternity, no sympathising emotions would arise—dumbness would seize me—I could not speak—I could not pray. I lost much of my reverence for the Sabbath—found the commandment to sanctify it had no internal restraint upon my mind. I began to use freedoms with it—to talk about news, or some occurrence which my judgment told me was unsuitable conversation for such an occasion, This did me great injury, defacing all that the word had effected, and throwing me open to a thousand temptations through the week.
“I always had a value for real religion, judging those alone happy who possessed it, and would have given a world to be like-minded with them; but the influences of the Spirit are not to be bought with money,
“For a long time I only considered myself a Christian under back-sliding; indeed I had partial recoveries. But I had a secret sin which easily beset me; and, in process of time, I became its humble servant. I often opposed it, but oftener complied with it: I pleaded in favour of it at the bar of my mind, endeavouring to silence every witness which appeared against it. Something would say, Will you commit this sin, and risk heaven? Another thought would start up, and say, Do it, pray do it; you know that you can repent of it at a future period: it is as easy to repent of many as of one sin: do comply. So I complied. On this, Satan would suggest, Now you have eaten the forbidden fruit like Adam—you are a lost man; you have gone too far for repentance to have any weight. This affair would create a bustle for a while, but it was soon over. However, the remembrance of it in retirement was never effaced, but often filled me with uneasiness and anxious concern, although it was long in reaching the conscience.
“I often omitted prayer, when from home, without much uneasiness; and was always conscious I was unprepared for dying, and became afraid at the thought of death; but some glimmering hope continued for years. I thought I saw hypocrisy written upon all my actions, but had some hope I was not a hypocrite, and often desired self not to interfere with my actions; but he always had a large share in them. I often groaned after performing a generous action. My natural temper led me to be serviceable to everybody, and I was universally esteemed and spoken well of, but was seldom commended without a gloom overspreading my mind. I sometimes pitied man, who could be easily imposed on, who could only judge from the external appearance. Though my relish for spiritual converse was often so flat as to incapacitate me for promoting it, yet I mostly desired that it should be the chief topic of discourse among the Lord’s people, and had most satisfaction when it was. I was often tempted to lay a little stress upon my having a name to live, but was conscious that I was dead; and this stung me to the heart. Reflection upon my conduct throughout no day was pleasant. When I turned my eye to the offers of the Gospel, my mind was always dark and full of embarrassment. I confessed them all truths, but none of them pointed at me; consequently, the most explicit Gospel offer yielded me only a perhaps.
“I think it was about the beginning of 1794 my conscience began to harass me. This, for a considerable space, happened only about bed-time, or when I awoke during the night; but, ordinarily, this passed unnoticed in the day-time, and then I was cheerful, secretly hoping things would turn out, by and by, better than my fears. Oh, deceitful and desperately wicked heart!
“At this period I was continually harassed by invitations to suppers. At these I generally remained too long, the company being always agreeable. May the Lord ever deliver me from supping in strange houses! they had almost ruined my soul. Family duty neglected at home, a bad example set to others, secret duty hurried over, and the mind totally dissipated!
“About the beginning of November, 1794, upon a certain occasion, I officially attended a company for three or four nights, to a late hour. Several serious young people made part of the company; this stared me in the face as a most destructive example to them; and this conduct was the first thing, as far as I recollect, that mightily roused my conscience; then all my guilt rushed into my mind like a mighty torrent, so that I thought I should have perished in my affliction! By night I could not sleep for the horrible anguish which gnawed upon my guilty soul; the horrors of hell took hold of me, and I knew not what to do; my day of grace was gone; my damnation just and sure. I was filled with a fearful looking-for judgment, and fiery indignation to consume me as God’s adversary. I looked into the Bible, and always stinging texts looked me in the face. I often tried to find comfort from that precious word, Isa. i., 18, ‘Though your sins be as scarlet’ etc., but I could not reason myself into the reception of it. That word, ‘My Spirit shall not always strive with you,’ pierced me to the quick; and that other, ‘What a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God!’ The flames of hell seemed beginning to take hold on me! I shrank! I moaned! I cried! For all this, my heart was as hard as the nether millstone. A sight of the horrors into which sin hath plunged us may terrify, but can never melt the sinner’s heart. Indeed, indeed, I was brought very low; as much so as Satan could well bring a guilty soul on this side death. Glad would I have been to have been metamorphosed, not like Nebuchadnezzar almost, but altogether into a beast, that I might avoid the awful, but righteous, indignation of Jehovah. Day and night was I tortured; nor had I freedom to reveal my case to any man. Often was I on the eve of doing it; but the Lord had determined that flesh and blood were not to be the means of my relief. During many sermons that I heard, I sat as a condemned criminal, believing that others were fed while I was hungry—no food for me. Some people desire to have what is called a law-work; but had they an hour of what I have faintly described above, they would wish they had never been born.
“The arrows of the Almighty stuck faster and deeper, as days and hours moved on. The comfortable testimonies of Jesus flew all past me, or rather were all rejected by me. Judas, Julian, and such rejectors of the Gospel, were viewed as the men who were to be my eternal associates; often wishing I had never known the Gospel—envying the situation of the most abandoned debauchee, who remained unawakened, untormented before the time; and though I am now relieved, I feel horror in the committing it to paper. But I have this reason, among others, for doing it; that it may prove a mean to humble and stir me up in a day of pride or unwatchfulness, and that I may never forget gratitude to my great Deliverer, who snatched me from the gaping mouth of such a horrible pit. My dear Saviour, let me never forget this hour and power of darkness! and never think of mine without wondering at Thine! Mine was but a drop—Thine an ocean! Mine I deserved—Thine was for me!
“It is a most mournful proof of the dead hardness of the impenitent heart of man, when he can smile while deliverance from wrath remains an uncertainty. It is no less wonderful to think that the redeemed of the Lord are not always filled with rapturous triumph while on earth. O the patience, the kindness, the love, and the forbearance of the Almighty! What plague hath sin introduced into the world! What glorious grace hath God manifested! I have to praise the Lord this day that my life and reason were both preserved.
“I just now recollect that in the midst of my anguish of soul, I thought I should be under the necessity of applying to spirituous liquors for relief from my tormented mind; but this I was preserved from putting into execution, excepting one time about midnight, being so tormented that I feared my bowels would rend with the burning and boiling of the fired conscience. I rose and took one glass of spirits; but ah! this was but a poor relief. It had no effect, but rather sharpened my anguish. I then lighted a candle, and pored, with extreme horror, upon Psalm lxxxviii, from verse 14. I perceived my case worded there; but my hour not being yet come, it afforded no alleviation. This to me was indeed the hour and power of darkness. All the invention of Popish tormentors could not have caused such agony as I then felt. I thought I should be looked for in heaven by many of my friends, and not found. This thought, also, stung me to the quick. I believed God would make me the butt of his vengeance. When I felt the smallest impediment in a simple breath, I trembled, as if a harbinger of death had appeared. The fidelity of God in the execution of his threatening was a tremendous truth. This moment my flesh shrinks, on identifying to my mind my most amazing horror.
“I had as strong impressions of the fidelity of heaven in the midst of this distress as ever I had: this deepened and enlarged my wound. I beheld the glories of heaven as Dives may be supposed to have viewed the happiness of Lazarus from the centre of hell.
“The state of infants, and such as had not lived long enough to reject the Gospel, appeared happiness; there was a possibility of their being recovered and pardoned, but all this was over with me.
“I thought that I believed the Bible a true revelation from God, but I soberly believed it the highest presumption for me to receive any comfort from the truths recorded in it; because, having tasted of the powers of the world to come, and afterwards fed upon sin in a way as if preferring it to the chief good, I called this atrocious, and so it was: but ah! that I should have admitted the thought that it overtopped the merit of the Mediator’s righteousness; but I was led captive by and bound under the sin of unbelief.
“I believed Christ was once friendly to me in months past, but his friendship I had disregarded and neglected—that now he would make me an example of his vengeance, and vindicate his injured goodness, by making me, in the Judgment-day, a spectacle of horror, shame, and dismay. To express the inward knawing anguish which uniformly succeeded those dismal apprehensions, is beyond the power of a human pen: I rejoice I now relate it as a past event.
“Fierce as my chastisement was, it was short and slight compared with what I justly merited. Three months was about the length of its sharpest continuance; and even during that period I had often intervals of quiet throughout the day; but in general I trembled when darkness overspread the heavens; the return of the evening, sweet to the husbandman, was like the shock of an earthquake to me. A person who never waded these deep waters can have no more conception of them than of the glory of the third heaven. No wonder that the multitude of the heavenly hosts made the air resound with their songs at the incarnation of the Great Deliverer of sinners from all this wrath. They felt for man; but the natural man pities not himself. Saints are mourning for him when he is laughing at them, May I every recoil at offending such a God—such a Saviour! May I ever possess such a deep sense of the magnitude of Divine mercy!
“Let us now turn the leaf, and contemplate the dawning of a glorious day—the rising of the Sun of Righteousness, with healing under His wings!
“Upon the evening of the 26th day of January, 1795, the Lord appeared as my Deliverer. He commanded, and darkness was turned into light. The cloud which covered the mercy-seat fled away! Jesus appeared as He is! My eyes were not turned inward, but outward! The Gospel was the glass in which I beheld Him. When our Lord first visited Saul upon the highway, he knew in a moment that it was the Lord. So did I: such a change of views, feelings, and desires suddenly took place in my mind, as none but the hand of an Infinite Operator could produce. Formerly I had a secret fear that it was presumption in me to receive the great truths of the Gospel: now there appeared no impediment—I beheld Jesus as the speaker in His Word, and speaking to me. When He said, ‘Come.’ I found no difficulty in replying, ‘Yes, Lord! Thy pardoned rebel comes.’ If not the grace of God, what else could effect such a marvellous change? I chiefly viewed the atonement of Jesus as of infinite value, as a price paid for my redemption, and cheerfully accepted by the Father. I saw love in the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, all harmonizing in pardoning and justifying me. The sight humbled and melted my soul. Looking to what I felt was no help to my comfort: it came directly from God, through His Word.
“The following evening, about nine o’clock, while sitting before the fire, writing to a reverend friend, I had such a charming, surprising view of sovereign, pardoning, redeeming, unmerited mercy, that I was hardly able to bear it. The great doctrines of redemption, as stated in the Bible, opened to my view in a way I never experienced before. I beheld a crucified Jesus nigh me in the Word: I threw away the pen, and turned to see this great sight! I looked steadfastly to the Lamb suffering for me! So much was I overpowered with the magnitude of the discovery of eternal, boundless love and grace in Christ, that I felt a difficulty in breathing.
“This view of my redeeming God in Christ completely swept away all the terrible horrors which had so long brooded over my mind, leaving not a wreck behind, but filling me with a joy and peace more than human—truly divine. I sat pensive, at one time beholding the pit from whence I was redeemed, at another, the hope to which I was raised. My soul rushed out in wonder, love, and praise, emitted in language such as this: ‘Wonderful mercy! why me? what is this? Thanks be to God, who giveth me the victory through Jesus Christ, my Lord!’ Shuddering at sin, as pardoned; wondering that ever I could have been guilty of such transgressions, I continued sitting, wrapped up in silent wonder. For long after, when I thought of my hopes, I leaped for joy—I really had a glad heart. This visitation, also, created an extent of mildness and complacency in my temper that I never felt before. I felt a burning love rising in my heart to all the brethren in Christ; with a strong sympathy to all such as were not born of the Spirit. I earnestly breathed after their incorporation into the family of Christ.
“A light shone upon the Scripture quite new to me. Passages, which formerly appeared hard to be understood, seemed plain as the A B C. Earthly crowns, sceptres, and thrones appeared quite paltry in my eyes, and not worth desiring. I felt a complete contentment with my lot in life. I trembled to think of any abatement of my faith, love, and sensibility; it required resolution to be resigned to remain long in the world. Indeed, I could scarce admit the idea of long life: I feared the trials and vicissitudes connected with it; but was completely silenced with that noble saying of our reigning Redeemer, ‘My grace is sufficient for thee.’ I saw I was fully warranted to mind the things of to-day, leaving the concerns of to-morrow to His wise disposal. I felt it easy to introduce spiritual conversation wherever I was, and to recommend Christ wherever I went. I saw that everything acceptable to God, or comfortable to ourselves, was the product of Divine power. I saw the folly and criminality of being too much in company, though composed of the best people in the world. I feel nothing more conducive to internal peace and prosperity than a regular, meek, even walk.
“I cannot close this detail without adding, that in the time of my affliction, the doctrine of election appeared irritating and confounding; now it appears marvellously glorious and truly humbling. I pity Arminians, and every person who is offended, however secretly, with this doctrine. It is a convincing proof to me that there is a great defect in their faith and love, and a want of submission to plain Scripture. In my worst time I saw it to be a truth, only I wished it had not been true; and often it seemed a check to every exertion; but to deny that it is contained in the Bible appears to me next door to downright Deism.
“I now stand upon a shore of comparative rest. Believing, I rejoice. When in search of comfort, I resort to the testimony of God; this is that field which contains the pearl of great price. Frames and feelings are, like other created comforts, passing away; but the Word of the Lord endureth forever. What unutterable source of consolation is it, that the foundation of our faith and hope is ever, immutably the same! the sacrifice of Jesus as acceptable and pleasing to the Father as ever it was! To this sacrifice I desire ever to direct my eye, especially at the first approach of any gloom or mental change.
“After my deliverance my ideas of many things were much altered, especially about faith. I perceive that this principle in the mind arises from no exertion in the man, but the constraint of evidence from without. The Spirit takes the things of Christ, and discovers their reality and glory in such a manner to the mind of man, that it is not in his power to refuse his belief. It is no mighty matter, nor is it any way meritorious, to believe that the sun is shining when our eyes are dazzled with the beams.
“The internal evidence of the truth of revelation had ten thousand times more effect upon my mind than all its external evidence. There is a divineness, a glory, and excellence in the Scriptures, perceived by enlightened minds, which they cannot so describe as to make it intelligible to an unregenerate person.
“Formerly the major part of my thoughts centred either upon the darkness I felt, or the light I enjoyed; now they are mainly directed to Jesus, what He had done, suffered, and promised. And I do find, when the eye is thus single, my whole frame is full of light.
“Formerly, I felt a constant propensity to talk of my doubts, fears, darkness, etc.; now I feel a similar inclination to hint my enjoyments, faith, love, triumph, etc.
“Formerly I had a certain kind of pleasure in hearing people complaining, talking of their bondage, etc.; now it tries my patience—the foundation of faith and hope appears so immovably firm; at the same time, I hope I possess tender sympathy for all such, and my prayer is, that Jesus may loose their bonds, and set them free.
“I plainly perceive the truth of what you have more than once told me, that a name among men is a poor thing! It can give no relief in temptation, nor in a dying hour.
“I never till now saw occasion for that Divine exhortation, ‘In patience possess ye your souls.’ Luke xxi. 19. But after taking a survey of eternal felicity, I see much need of patience to wait till my appointed moment arrive.
“Formerly when a friend or a minister, especially the latter, said a certain feeling was an evidence of grace, I snatched at it, and took comfort; now nothing of this kind affects me, unless I perceive that it is evidently founded upon Scripture.