(WRITTEN BY HER OWN HAND.)
(Continued from page 29.)
IT pleased the Lord again to visit this city with a very merciful visitation, the sacrament being given that day seven weeks after the fire, which was a day of great solemnity indeed. At this time I found myself in a very uncomposed frame for a communion, and I resolved not to communicate at this occasion, notwithstanding of the many invitations I got by the Lord’s servants, unless the Lord would call me Himself, in such a way as formerly I had experienced: For which cause, I got a sharp rebuke, and that in a similitude: If a king or a great person, having a great family of children, intending to make a great feast or dinner more than ordinary; the day is appointed for it, and they get all warning of it; the dinner is ready, and bell ringing to call the children to dinner. But among them there is an ill-petted, ill-natured child, who, notwithstanding of all these warnings and calls, will not come unless the father come himself, and call him particularly. Now, suppose the father to be so condescending as to come to such a one, what would he say? May it not be supposed he would say this, “What means this ill-nature of yours, to be so disobedient to my call?” and with an angry countenance say, “If ye will not come, bide; see who will be the greatest loser. Were it not pity, that I should confer this honour on you, more than on the rest of the family, who came when the servants called them? And what are ye better than they?” Now, suppose on the back of this reckoning, the child should come to dinner, the comfort of it would be laid with the thoughts of its disobedience; and when the rest are making merry with their father, and with one another, at the table, he, in the meantime, could not look a blythe look, but sigh and sob, and weep for his former miscarriages.
Whatever others may think of this similitude, I am sure it was applicable to my present case in all its circumstances; and though indeed I durst not stay away from the table, yet I met not with that joy and comfort I met with some time before; for it proved a very dark and comfortless communion to me; for I had not the comfortable sense of God’s love to me, though indeed I dare not deny it altogether. It is only my own carriage that makes the distance so great, and no change in His love. O my soul, bless the Lord that His presence is not tied to a communion-day, but that He is to be found even at other times, where there is need for it; He being always a friend in need, and that my soul knoweth right well.
On the back of this communion I met with another very
weighty trial (which I shall forbear to speak of), and that which made it the more trying to me was, 1st, It came from an unexpected airt, of which I was little thinking. 2ndly, It appeared to be a contradiction of former promises on their account. But what shall I say? I may put my hand on my mouth, and be silent; for the Lord hath done it, and that to my profit; for by it I was instructed not only of the vanity of the world, but also of the vanity of all friends and relations whatsoever; so that I can subscribe to that word, “Trust not to a friend, put no confidence in a brother.” At this time I enjoyed a very sweet and comfortable time, where I saw, that all dispensations of providence to me were but only for trial and not for wrath. Then the word came frequently in my mind, “Weeping may endure for a night; but joy cometh in the morning.” By this I understood it to be the morning of the resurrection, where all tears shall be wiped away from my eyes.
There was a day, which I cannot but put a mark of remembrance upon, I being in a very disconsolate and dead frame, but providentially I foregathered with a comrade on the street, whose company and converse hath many times been refreshful and comfortable to me. We very seldom met, but we prayed ere we parted; but this day, being in such an ill case, I refused, and got me up to go away; but blessed be the Lord, I continued not long in this resolution. We both joined in prayer, and never did we experience more of God’s presence with us, than at this time, there being more than an ordinary measure of the Spirit poured on us both, so that our mouths were filled with praise ere we parted. This was in April, 1700. O how wonderful is His way with me! In every step of providence His hand is to be seen.
There was yet another very heavy rod laid on my back, which weighted me very sore down for many days, months, and years; so that I now see that it hath not been for nought that that scripture was given me, “Despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, neither be weary of his correction.” Now, the trial was thus: on the back of these outward troubles I mentioned before, it was thought convenient for me to return to the family where I had been some time, in which family I must acknowledge I was most kindly dealt with by all in it, and that far beyond any thing deserving in me. I wanted no outward accommodation that I could desire, I found so much favour in the eyes of them among whom I dwelt; yet the thoughts of returning to this family were like present death to me, to which I could not give consent, and that for these reasons; 1st, The worship of God was not set up in this family; 2ndly, There was much strife and contention in it; 3rdly, There were many other sins committed in it; such as mockery at religion and despising of His ministers, which were very grievous to my heart. I do not say that this was done by all in it: no, no; for there were some in it had an heart-love to religion; 4thly, The last time I was in it, I had God’s mind and
call to leave it. And now, after all this, to return, was to me as the going back to Egypt again; yet I was set sore on by several, with many fair promises made to me; and I was thought ridiculous to refuse such a good opportunity. My mother also was very earnest I should go back, and told me it would vex her to a degree if I disobeyed her in this. I knowing she had grief and sorrow enough already, was unwilling to give it a new addition, so consented to it. O but this was a dear bought obedience to me afterward! as, if the Lord will, I shall give some account. And O that I could be a warning to all, to beware of sinning against light and knowledge for the pleasure of any! for, though the obedience to parents be a great duty, commanded in the fifth command, yet to obey them when their commands are contrary to the Lord’s is not allowable.
But to return to the thing itself—When I came back to the family, I found everything in it as I left them; and if there was any change, it was to the worse; and what effect this had on me I shall show you.
In the first place, I found the Lord sensibly departed from me in duties; and still my conscience harped on this, “It is because you have sinned against clear sight.” In the next place, I was sorely plagued with sleeping at prayer, and that continually; and that time I was not sleeping, I was ill employed in wandering upon the mountains of vanity, pursuing after my idols and predominants, which at this time I was extremely mastered with. But this was not all; there arose a terrible discontent and disquiet on my mind, so that nothing could be pleasant to me, I was of such a fretful disposition; though nothing of this was known by my outward carriage and deportment. I laboured to hide it as much as possible, yet in the meantime, it is impossible for me to conceive or express what trouble I was under without intermission, when I thought on what correspondence there was betwixt my sin and punishment.
All sorts of spiritual diseases seized upon me at this time, so that I was in great distress every way; for two years’ time, I truly think, I enjoyed not a quiet and peaceable day to an end; but, like a raging sea, was my demented mind never at rest. During this time, I must acknowledge the Lord’s condescendency, in suffering me sometimes to pour out my complaints before Him, with that word in my mouth, “Woe is me that I have dwelt in Meshech, and sojourned in the tents of Kedar.” I cannot but observe, that scarce a Sabbath passed over my head but I experienced some token of the Lord’s love to my soul, either in putting arguments in my mouth to plead with Him, or in promising me deliverance from both my external and internal plagues, from that word, Psalm lxvi. 19, 20. But though it was thus with me on the Lord’s day, yet through the week I was like a dead beast, which bred in me a great longing for the Sabbath day, so that I would have begun on Monday, and counted how long it was to Sabbath;
and O how glad was I when it drew near! I often wished for two Sabbaths in the week, they were so sweet and pleasant to me, both in public, private, and secret; so that I could have been content never to have returned to the world and worldly company again. Then I compared myself to an apprentice, who is put from his father’s house, but once a-week he got the liberty to pay him a visit: and O how sweet would that time be to him, considering the hard labour and toil he had through the week, which breeds in him an unwillingness to return again.
About this time there were some sermons preached in the Canongate kirk on the week days, by Mr. William Mitchel, from Romans vi. 12, “Let not sin reign in your mortal bodies, that ye should obey it in the lust thereof.” These sermons were suitable every way to my present case, and great delight had I in hearing of them. He observed many things from the words, but especially these two I remember: 1stly, that, as sin had a reigning and domineering power over all, so this power was in some measure broken in believers, so that it shall not reign there as formerly. Where he came to an use of trial, whose subjects we were; whether or not sin was reigning, or if it was dethroned and Christ enthroned; where he made use of these expressions—Is it possible that there can be a revolution in a kingdom, one king dethroned and another enthroned, and the subjects know nothing of it? No, surely it cannot be so quietly done. This put me to a stand what to think. I would fain have thought that Christ had gotten a throne in my heart, and yet sin was strong and powerful in me, that I wist not what to do.
On the back of this, he came with a large and free offer to captivate sinners, which my very heart and soul went out after; no news could have been more acceptable to me than this was; this was a day of power on my soul, when I got leave to act faith, “that sin should not have dominion over me,” from that word, Romans vi. 14.
2ndly, He observed, “That, as sin’s dominion was broken in believers, so sin, as an usurper was always labouring to bring its former power in their souls again; yet, notwithstanding all its attempts, it should never overcome them altogether, and that because the infinite power of God was engaged for them; for nothing else could preserve the spunk of grace in the soul;” where he brought a very lively similitude: “As if, suppose one saw a spark of fire in the midst of the ocean, they would say, Surely it will be a wonder if that spark be preserved in the ocean; but would it not be a greater wonder if that spark should dry up the ocean?” He told us it was a wonder it was preserved in the midst of such an ocean of corruption, and yet it was a greater wonder that the spunk of grace would one day or other dry up all those oceans of corruption whatsoever.
O how earnestly did I long for that day wherein my corruptions would be dried up! He continued a great while on this subject,
in which time I had a great delight in hearing of them; but what my carriage and deportment was on the back of them, I would be ashamed to let know. The time of the sacrament’s being given in Edinburgh drew near; the thoughts of which bred many doubts in my mind what to do, knowing that I was not in a communion frame and disposition.
At this time Mr. John Moncrief was on these words, some Sabbaths before the communion, Rev. xxii. 17, “And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, come. And let him that is athirst, come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.” In which sermon he drew up a contract betwixt Christ and his bride, believers, with the terms thereof, to which terms, if my heart deceive me not, I have heartily consented; but yet there remained such a multitude of sins and iniquity in my bosom, consulting and contriving vanity and vexation, so that this mixed my wine with water, and held me in perpetual confusion, as ever any poor creature was trysted with.
On the Thursday before the sacrament, I was in the College Kirk-yard a while before the sermon began; which place hath been a sweet retiring place to me many times. I remember one morning as I was going into it, being frost, and very cold, I was something unwilling to bear the cold, thinking to return back; then that meditation came in my mind, It was a colder night when our Lord Jesus Christ swate drops of blood for you in the garden, and will you not endure some small trouble to the body, for to seek Him? This was a sweet meditation to me. I being in this place, there was something that lay very weighty on me, such as the sense of my own case, considering how long and how great a distance there had been between the Lord and my soul with respect to what sometimes I enjoyed. He seems to be both angry and silent. I get not the return of my prayer; though I cry to Thee against my spiritual enemies, yet they remain strong and lively. There was another thing very grievous to me, the sense of the case of this poor land, and the inhabitants thereof. O what marks of the Lord’s anger and displeasure are there among us! such as judicial hardness of heart, want of love and sympathy towards the Lord’s people in distress. All are seeking their own things, and few the things of another; there is no mourning for sin either personal, or more solemn and national, the breach of covenant and solemn vows made between God and the land: it being as a contract drawn up by our godly ancestors, to be for God and his interests, against all errors and ungodliness, both in doctrine and manners, of whatsoever sort; so they in their own name, and in the name of their posterity, subscribed this solemn league and covenant, and God in an eminent manner gave His Spirit to witness with them, how well He was pleased with it.
This was our glory above other nations; but a malignant, ungodly, prelatic party, disdain this covenant, because it would not agree with their ungodly projects and designs. Therefore,
they took and burnt it, not secretly, but openly and avowedly; they gave it to the hangman to throw it in the fire, in the sight of the sun, not being ashamed of what they did. Yea, they rather were ashamed to own a covenant-relation to God. Now, hath not the Lord gotten great provocation to be angry with us? Hath he not been already contending with us by fire! in sending a burning to that place where it was burnt, to remember us of the ashes of a burnt covenant; and yet, who is laying it to heart? And not only this, but alas! who is mourning for the blood of the saints which was shed in this city? their blood ran like water about the Cross and Grass-market, when our unjust rulers and magistrates, with consent of the clergy, thought no more of the lives of the Lord’s people than they had been dogs or swine.
It is very observable, how the Lord set a mark of His displeasure upon one of the chief murderers of his people, who is by name Sir George M’Kenzie, the king’s advocate at that time. After the revolution he left the land and went to England, where a little before his death he took a bleeding, so that there was not an open in his body, but what gushed out of blood. Physicians being called to know the cause of it, could give no natural reason for it at all, but, that it was the hand of God on him for the blood that he had shed in his own land; and yet, who is laying the blood-guiltiness to heart?
Under the sense of these things, I desire to be humbled as being guilty with the rest of the land; inasmuch as I have not mourned for these sins in good earnest, I am a partaker in their sins, and so am plagued with their judgments. I desire also to mourn over my secret sins, my relation sins. O my atheism, my unbelief, my untender walk, my grieving the Spirit of God many times! Oh my carnal affections are set on unreasonable objects, ungrateful creature that I am! Oh that I am thought of by the people of God, when I am nothing but a filthy wretch in God’s account! Alas, that I am so useless and fruitless in my day and generation! I am but a tree in the vineyard, that is bearing bulk, and no more. Of what use am I to the Church, either abroad or at home, or to my relations, or the family where I dwell? though sin much abounds there, which makes me many times lament, and cry with David, Psalm cxx. O for my hypocrisy in the matters of religion, and for my secret iniquity, which sticks so fast to me that I call them not the spots of God’s children! I am a sink of iniquity, an habitation of God’s enemies; there is never a sinful thought comes in my way, but what gets present entertainment from me; Christ’s motions can get no hearing in my heart, there is such a den of devils within me. Oh these temptations that suit my inclinations do me much mischief at all times. These things lay very weighty on me through the day; as also for the sins of my near relations, and of the real godly, whose ways are not answerable to their profession; and likewise the abounding sins, among all ranks of people, high and low, rich and poor. I
cannot but tell it, to the glory and goodness of the Lord, that I got leave to pour out my mind on all those accounts; and I besought the Lord, that He would pour out a spirit of mourning on all of us, from the king to the beggar, as a token that He would not leave the land; and that He would come and captivate my heart, at this communion, to Himself. This day being spent, I found a great many doubts and questions in my mind what to do.
On Saturday, our sermon was very sweet to me; but especially Mr. Wisheart’s on these words, “My love, give me thy heart.” He pressed us to this duty, and gave many comfortable motives to persuade us. But there was one great difficulty remained within me; there were many objections made and answered, but that which most perplexed me was never mentioned; and it was this, But alas! I have given my heart away to other things, and now, do what I would I cannot get it again to give Christ. But this was answered by none. Notwithstanding, I resolved at this sermon, that there should no sleep come into my eyes, nor slumber to my eyelids, till I had found out an habitation in my heart to the Lord. But at night, when I began to think of spending a night with the Lord, flesh and blood began to reason thus with me: “What needs all this toil to the body? it will but disenable you for the work of the ensuing day.” I, having some disorder in my head, found myself very ready to comply with the notion. But then when I thought how solemnly I had promised, I besought the Lord if He was calling me to this duty, to give strength both to body and mind, and remove indispositions; which in some measure I found to my experience. A glorious night this was to me, the which I never enjoyed the like before, it being wholly spent in prayer. And, when I had spent three or four hours of it in prayer, I do not think there was one petition put up for myself; the case of others lay so heavy on me, and was so brought to my hand, and I can say it (to the glory of God be it spoken), that, beside the churches in general, both abroad and at home, there was not a godly person, that I had the least knowledge of, but what lay upon my heart this night, so that I got leave to make language of them before the Lord: as also I was made to plead for this city in particular that He might be present in a signal manner at this solemnity. Yea, there was not a congregation in this city, but what have put arguments in my mouth to plead for His presence to it, so that many souls might be converted and others convinced.
On the back of this I got liberty and freedom to bewail and lament my sad case before the Lord, and to supplicate for a renovation in my mind, that I might be no more the old person I was before. In which place, I take heaven and earth to witness, with all the glorified saints and angels, that this night I devote myself to the Lord, and I am content with all the terms of the covenant of grace; and that, upon condition I get strength to perform those duties required, strength to mortify corruptions,
and subdue iniquities, then shall my heart be a habitation for the Lord, where nothing shall dwell with pleasure but Himself.
O but this was a night to be kept in remembrance by me, when I was as firmly persuaded that it was the Spirit of the Lord that was supplicating by me, so I was persuaded the Lord would deny me none of those petitions, because they were the dictates of His own Spirit, but that in His own time He would graciously answer me! O the joy and comfort that was on my heart! This night that word ran frequently with me, “There wrestled a man with Jacob till the breaking of the day.” And in the morning these three scriptures came with light, life, and refreshment to my soul, Psalm cxviii. 24, “This is the day that the Lord hath made, come, let us rejoice and be glad.” There shall be cause of rejoicing in all the congregations of Edinburgh. This day, there came a direct call to myself, from Matt. xxv. “Behold the bridegroom cometh, go ye out to meet him.” This being followed with a promise of my being established in the Lord’s way, from that word, Psalm xcii. 13, 14, “Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God: they shall still bring forth fruit in old age, and they shall be fat and flourishing.”
But, though I was thus feasted with these things, and in expectation to get more at His own table, yet was I no sooner entered the place of worship but as soon I got a messenger of Satan, a thorn in the flesh, to grapple with. The sin that so easily beset me, began to struggle, and that so strongly, to such a degree, that I was like to be mastered with it, and to call in question what I had met with that night. Then did I think, that word belonged to me, “Ephraim is joined to his idols, let him alone.” I knew not what to think, nor what name to give myself. O my corrupt heart put me out of order for any duty, but more especially for the duty of communicating, which bred some thoughts on me not to communicate. This day Mr. John Moncrief was on these words again, Rev. xxii. 17. A comfortable sermon it was, there being many large and free offers of Christ in it; but there was nothing that I could apply to myself in it. O the distress I was in! When he came to fence the tables, his commission was very large; but I could not hear my name. So I continued in my resolution not to communicate. At length, when I thought he was done with his invitations, he said, I have another sort of folk to call yet, who are in my commission; and that is, nameless folk, that know not what name to give themselves; come ye to Christ with your nameless case, He will make language of it. Then was I persuaded that was a particular call to me, which I durst not sit, but come to the second table, where Mr. William Wisheart served, where I made a new resignation of myself to the Lord; where I besought that He would exercise his kingly power over me, in putting all things out of my heart that were seeking His room, and would not consist with the Spirit’s dwelling in me; such as my predominant, my idols, the right hand and the right eye of my
affections; let them be cut off with the sacrificing knife of sanctification. This day I am a cage of unclean birds, but I am persuaded that thou canst make me clean. I am content to accept of Christ on the terms of the covenant of grace, on which covenant I build my hope of salvation, Christ being the Mediator thereof, by whose righteousness only I am to be saved, notwithstanding of my many corruptions and my indwelling sins; in whose name I promise to stand for God and His cause in my day and generation. Come persecution or trials of whatsoever sort, rather than I deny those truths I now profess, I will rather go to a gibbet, or to a burning stake, to lay down my life for it. I also promise to stand for the Presbyterian government, because I believe it is the way and worship appointed in Thy word. When they are in trouble, I desire to be in trouble with them, and to take my lot with them; but it is only in the strength of the Lord that I promise. O, help, day by day, to mortify a body of sin and death, that I may have heart and sincerity in all that I do. That the glory of God may be my chief end in all my performances, is my earnest request, this day in the sight of men and angels. Written and subscribed at Edinburgh, 6th April, 1701.
ELISABETH WEST.
(To be Continued.)