(WRITTEN BY HER OWN HAND.)
“Oh how great is thy goodness, which thou hast laid up for them that fear thee; which thou hast wrought for them that trust in thee before the sons of men.”—Psalm xxxi. 19.
“Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul.”—Psalm lxxvi. 16.
(Continued from page 15.)
EDINBURGH, 11th August, 1694.
I HAVE this day taken Thy sacrament, and sworn myself to be the Lord’s, at the table where Mr. John Anderson served. O Lord, make me a real servant of Thine, and keep Satan from tempting me to sin; for Thou art my God, and I am Thy servant solemnly sworn to Thee. O put some work of Thine in mine hand, to do for Thee in my day and generation. Lord, help me to perform everything in the strength of Christ; this is all the desire of Thy sworn servant.
E. WEST.
After this I could do nothing but wonder and admire at the love of God in Christ Jesus; for my interest in Christ was so cleared up to me, that there remained no doubt in my heart to the contrary. O, but my heart was full of joy, so that I can neither express it with tongue nor pen! There were songs of praise put in my mouth, on the consideration of the right that I had to God through the purchase of Christ’s death and sufferings, which made me enter on my way rejoicing and triumphing. All things were made easy for me, though otherwise difficult; especially the cross of Christ, I thought I could heartsomely embrace—a gibbet, a stake to be burnt at, was nothing to me. I thought nothing could trouble me, when I thought on what Christ was made to me. O what can make Christian’s way difficult? What though the devil tempt me to disbelieve? I can answer him with the promises; what though I meet with afflictions? a crown of glory will make up for all. When I had been with my comrades, if they had been complaining, I wondered at them, and would chide them; what can ail you to complain that have heard of Christ? Are you ignorant? He is a prophet. Are you overcome with your enemies? He is a king. He is all things to His people. The truth is, I thought there was not a difficulty in all the way to heaven. I wondered what they meant that say religion is a melancholy thing; I can see nothing but joy. I was with David singing, My mountain stands strong, I shall never be moved. In this pleasing
condition, I continued for a while, never dreaming what temptations Satan was contriving to lay in my way to make me stumble; I was boasting so strongly, and singing so cheerfully without fear—
Most holy Lord, I Thee intreat,
Teach me Thee how to praise;
I of myself unworthy am
To speak of all Thy ways.
But here I beg of Thee, O Lord,
Not for mine own name’s sake;
But in the name of Jesus Christ
My prayer to Thee I’ll make.
For Thou hast said, that in His name
To Thee we may make bold;
According to Thy promises,
Which Thou of old us told.
Therefore the greatest sinners that
In this world being have,
May comfort draw from this great name,
If they do right believe.
For He hath, for His people’s sake,
Come down from heaven on high,
To pacify His Father’s wrath—
O such humility!
That the great Lord of heaven and earth
Should humble Him so low,
For us that were His enemies,
Should so great kindness show.
That He should of a woman poor
Be born, and that so low!
For in the house there was no room
For this great Lord to go;
But He must to some outer place,
Where horse was wont to lie.
O all ye that His people be,
Admire humility!
But yet, behold what love from God,
Who did His angels send
With that great news, that Christ was born,
His people to defend.
But not to great men, and to kings,
That this great news was told;
It was to shepherds poor, I say,
And not to Herod bold.
Who, when he heard that Christ was born,
To be his people’s king,
He sent forth men in rage, who slew
The babes in Bethlehem.
All ye who be His people dear,
Admire this humble King,
Who for your sakes a servant was,
That we thro’ Him might reign.
He thought no shame to choose such men
As fishers poor, we hear
Both poor and mean: come let us then
Our humble King admire.
The Jews with scoffing, mocking words,
They did our King defame;
The prince of devils they Him call,
Which word was to blaspheme.
When He into the garden was,
Much agony He found;
Which made Him sweat great drops of blood,
Falling down to the ground.
O likewise see Him set at naught
By Pilate and his men,
Who put on’s head a crown of thorns,
And cried, “Behold the man.”
They mocked more, when in the place,
The blood was running down;
Yea, they rejoic’d to see Him pain’d,
And so they railed on;
And cried, and said, “Cause crucify,
And scourge this blessed One,
And cause Him bear His heavy cross,
His bloody back upon.”
Behold what He upon the cross
Did from their hands receive,
A painful, shameful, cursed death,
That He might us relieve!
In spirit He was troubled sore,
When He aloud did cry,
“My God, my God,” twice He exprest,
“Hast Thou forsaken me!”
We have heard of His humble life,
And death and verity.
The more we hear, the more admire
Our Lord’s humility:
Who suffer’d Himself to be brought down,
And laid into the ground:
Yea, laid in grave, who at this time
Gave death a deadly wound.
O Thou my Lord, now see that I,
In His name to Thee come,
Who hath redeem’d me by His blood,
Jesus Christ is His name.
All praise and thanks unto the Lord
I shall for ever sing,
And give Thee thanks for all Thy works
And wonders Thou hast done.
O Lord my God, how then shall I
Begin to speak of Thee?
I’m like blind folk, that speak of things
That they did never see;
Come, help me then, O Lord my God,
If so I may Thee call;
Give me Thy blessing, give me grace,
And knowledge then withal.
So will I show what Thou, O Lord,
Hast done for wretched me,
Who at Thy hand deserv’d nothing
But death and misery.
When I was in a woeful state,
Thou pity hadst on me,
And gave me help when trouble came;
All praise and thanks to Thee!
I who did live in that sad case
Of wicked unbelief,
Which made me almost to despair,
And to cry, no relief!
O let me come and wonder then
That mercy was so free!
The goodness of the Lord so great
To filthy, wretched me!
Lord, ever blessed be Thy name,
Glory be given to Thee,
Praise let me sing to Thy great name,
JEHOVAH, thanks to Thee.
And let my tongue be ever still
In talking of Thy love;
For it becomes me, while I live,
Thee to admire above.
O Lord, ’tis all I crave of Thee,
While in this world I live,
To give me grace and wisdom to
Acknowledge what I have.
Because that Thou hast suffer’d me
These little songs to make,
While I live, I will call on Thee,
And for my Lord Thee take.
December 25th, 1694.
As all the Lord’s ways with me have been as so many wonders; so I think it my duty to record one dispensation of providence which I met with this night; and in so doing, O that I were as a beacon set up, that others may be aware of these rocks on which I had almost split, if God had not prevented it. This night I was sitting, myself alone, thinking on a sermon which I had heard, and of three remarkable observations, Matt. viii. 31, 32.
The first was, The devil will take little before he wants all; he lost the man, he is content with the swine. The second, They run fast that the devil drives. The third, The devil brings all his hogs to an ill market, they ran violently, and perished in the waters. In the meantime, when I was thinking on these observations, I forgot one of them; I desired that God would bring it to my memory again, which was not granted to me presently. Immediately I was tempted to atheism, and that strongly; the temptation was this: There is no God; it is a vain thing to believe in Christ. And this was prest on me by arguments of such a nature, that it is not convenient to record. This temptation struck in me a strange consternation what to do. If there be no God, from whence proceedeth my being? In this desperate case I went to prayer, crying, What will I do? What will I do, O Maker of heaven and earth? I am in a great strait about Thy being; once I thought that Thou wast the God of my salvation; but now it
seems that all has been in vain. But while I was on my knees, musing like one out of their senses, drowned in the deeps of unbelief;
Then did the Lord step to my help, and had pity on me when He saw me sinking. Yea, He took no advantage of my weakness to destroy me; but He let His power appear in holding me up. He brought the observation to my memory, which I forgot; and then He convinced me of my sins, which filled me with wonder and admiration. What! might not the Lord have thrown me into hell for entertaining such hellish thoughts? Then I betook myself to God by prayer, that for Christ’s sake He would pardon my sin of entertaining such a sinful temptation. O but the Lord was condescending to me; for He surprised me with His presence; where I got a new confirmation of my interest in Christ, and was made plead the promise that He was my God, and my King, and my Redeemer. I dare say it, as in His sight I never experienced a sweeter time than this was. It well becomes me to record it, both for my own comfort and the good of others. O that I could praise the Lord in my conversation, and that from this time I might be set apart for to serve the Lord for ever and ever! This was the strongest assault that ever I met with; but glory, glory to God the Father (the offended), to God the Son (who was in the offender’s stead), to God the Holy Ghost, who strengthened me with strength, so that Satan got not his will of me this night, though it was the beginning of sorrow to me indeed, for this battle of atheism began this night; yet I seemed to get some victory over it; but I found the remainders to lie still in my bosom, ready upon every temptation to break forth. After this I fell into an extraordinary deadness of spirit. I was sensibly deserted; I wist not what to do; I could tell my case to none, it was so extraordinary; I had some Christian comrades with whom I frequently conversed to my great satisfaction; but I could find none of them in my case, which made me bemoan the more.
(To be Continued.)
Evil Influence of Trashy Literature.—At a Conference held recently in Dundee on “Modern Education and the Making of Character,” Professor Lodge, of Edinburgh University, strongly condemned the trashy literature that forms the chief literary food of the ordinary British youth. “Nothing,” he said, “was tolerated but a rapid series of adventures appealing to the crudest sensations, that could be read from cover to cover without the slightest semblance of mental exertion. That sort of literature read, not merely as occasional relaxation, but in large quantities, was the most deadly of intellectual narcotics. The insatiable taste for it was almost as unwholesome as the craving for alcohol or opium or morphia.” The so-called religious fiction is no less worthy of merciless condemnation, for it is creating an ideal which is not that of the Bible, and it too often makes light of the great things of God.
The late Jessie Macleod, Strathy Point.
J. R. M.