(WRITTEN BY HER OWN HAND.)
(Continued from page 183.)
ON Sabbath our minister, Mr. George Turnbull, had chosen that text (Psalm xix. 12), “Who can understand his errors? Cleanse thou me from secret faults; and let them not have dominion over me.” When I heard these words read I thought my heart cried out within me that this is the very language and desire of my soul; and I must acknowledge that I heard God’s mind spoken from it to me.
A little after this the Sacrament was to be given in this place, and that day that it was intimated the lecture was in Matthew, where the servants are sent out to hire labourers to the vineyard. He told us “That this was his errand the day—to see if any would be hired to be Christ’s servants, and to work His work.” At this my strong and vehement desires went out to be engaged to be one of those who would do service to Him in my generation. “O, to have my ears bored to the post of His house, never to run away from Him any more!” At this time I had very heavy impressions of in-dwelling sin, and the nearer this solemn ordinance approached I was the more discouraged, so that I resolved not to go to the Lord’s table at that time, but thought to do this so secretly that none should know of it. But glory to God, that would not suffer me to keep my resolutions, for He prevented me with His loving-kindness.
On the Fast day I was helped in some measure to what these duties called for, yet remained in doubt what to do. But on Friday afternoon, when I was at secret prayer, the Lord was pleased graciously to shine on me with that word, “I will make all my glory pass before you.” Then I was persuaded that the Lord was calling me to this solemn ordinance. O, but the impressions of this were sweet, and continued that night.
On Saturday morning I got a great and wonderful discovery of the love of God to me while I was reading a sermon of Mr. Flavel’s on Prov. viii. 31. I thought, at the reading of this, my very heart was ravished out of me at the love of God in Christ to me, when I could read no longer, but fell a-wondering in a rapture of admiration, and went to prayer, but cannot tell in what frame I was, for I could do nothing but ask questions about the love of God to lost men. But what these questions were is not recordable, for I fear I fell a-raving. O, but this was a blessed day to me, both in secret and public, where Mr. William Moncrief was on these words, “O taste and see that the Lord is good.” And to this I may say—And that my soul knows full well.
After sermons I retired to a corner in the fields, where I got leave to pour out my mind before the Lord, both for myself and others, and for the Church of God, where that word came seasonably to me, “The Lord whom ye seek shall suddenly come to his temple, even the messenger of the covenant, in whom ye delight; and he shall be like a refiner’s fire and fuller’s soap, to purge the sons of Levi.” I must confess that this scripture was made very applicable to all these things I was seeking, and that the Lord would meet with me in His temple, where I should again “taste and see that God is good,” and, praise to Jehovah, I was not disappointed, for that Sabbath was a most satisfying day to me, which neither tongue nor pen can express. I was at the first table, where I got my heart’s desires poured out to the Lord; and I thought it most observable that these things my soul was going out after and desiring were sweetly enlarged on by the minister of the place.
This was a feast-day to me indeed, where my soul was satisfied with the fatness of His house. O, the sweet thoughts and meditations that were borne in on my mind concerning this feast-day! I saw that as there were many things on this solemn ordinance that resembled a feast, so I saw also some things in it that far excelled all the feasts that ever were among men in these respects:—First, Feasts are among equals such as they themselves are that make them; but who would make a feast to the horses, dogs, and swine? This would be an unequal company to feast with. O then, doth not this feast that the great God hath made excel all others? For there was no equality between Him and us. We were, by sin, more vile in His sight than dogs and swine are to us, so as to make companions of them. Secondly, At feasts men eat but for themselves, but are not allowed to send dishes from the table to their poor friends or needy relations. Herein then doth this feast excel all others. For our heartsome and liberal Lord and Master-feaster doth not only say, Eat, O friends; but also, Send portions of what you will to your poor friends and Christian acquaintances that are not so well provided as ye. “Concerning my sons and daughters command ye me.” Thirdly, When men make feasts they are at expenses to get beasts and fowls prepared for it. But who saw ever a dear and only child presented in a dish to eat of? Or did ever any present themselves to feast their company invited? But in this excellent feast the great God presents His only and beloved Son to feed His guests on; and Christ—He presents Himself, that we may eat His flesh and drink His blood by faith, to nourish our souls and heal our distemper. O, wonderful and unparalleled love! Fourthly, When men make feasts to their friends they do not marry all that they invite; neither do they give them all crowns and kingdoms that come to the feast. But in this excellent and glorious feast there is a marriage proposed to those that come by faith (Matt. xxii.) with the King of glory, and all those that marry
this King may be sure of crowns and kingdoms that last for evermore. I cannot tell what sweet thoughts these things afforded me, and I also took great delight in discoursing of them to others.
On Sabbath next our minister was on these words (Psalm xlviij. 3), “God is known in her palaces for a refuge;” when he spoke of the glory and duty that were to be found in the presence of the King, to which, I thought, I could set my seal.
After sermon I retired to the fields to pour out my complaint before the Lord for several things that lay heavy on me; and, particularly, that the Lord would be with me and bless me in that family where I was going, and that I might get a capacity for what was to be called for from my hand, I being to leave this place and go to a family near Edinburgh. O how graciously did the Lord communicate Himself to me in this respect! where I saw that where I was going I was to have a mixed cup put in my hand—mercy and judgment. I also saw that in this place I was to have accomplished a long-deferred promise. O but this was a refreshful day to me! The Lord was pleased to make sure to me bread and water, food and raiment convenient. This meditation was occasioned by seeing a flock of sheep. It was cast in my mind that the master of those sheep would never suffer them to want so long as he could get to give them, so the Lord returned this to my meditation, that, being one of His pasture, He would never suffer me to want food and raiment convenient; but I was to remember to be kind and sympathizing with His poor flock in whatever station I was in, and not to be forgetful to entertain them; and this was borne in on my mind by many strong arguments. I dare not but say that the sense of His goodness remained on my spirit for a considerable time, which helped me to go on cheerfully in the way of the Lord, and was helped to commend it to others. After this I left this place in November, and I bless the Lord that ever I was in that place of the country.
When I came to my new habitation at the Inch, I found favour among those with whom I lived, which I reckoned no small mercy, considering I always reckoned myself a poor, sottish, simple creature! I never thought I could do any thing like another body. I many times thought (and it is a truth) that, if the Lord had not bestowed some measure of His grace on me, I (as to other things) would have been as contemptible a creature as lives—good for nothing. The Lord continued His favour and loving kindness towards me, and many sweet communications of His love I received, and I thought that, if ever I got victory over corruptions and the sins that so easily beset me, it was at this time; but it was not so, and to my grief I may speak it; for these days I enjoyed were but like a short summer season, which made way for a long, a cold, a dark, a stormy winter, which very shortly came upon me very severely: but, out of His grace’s fulness, He gave me some cordials to support me before it came on, and, indeed, they had all enough ado with it ere all was done.
I cannot forbear to record a providence that I met with. About the middle of December there was a particular business which I was entrusted with, which thing was like to prove very bad and ill; and I having a great hand in it, it became exceeding vexing to me, though none knew of it. I, being but a stranger among them, thought that either they might think me unfaithful or careless about what I ought to be concerned in, and many other fears came in my mind—such as, Religion would be ill-spoken of—which sent me frequently to the Throne of Grace, that I might be helped to order my affairs with discretion; but while I was in the midst of my fears these words came, “Be careful for nothing, but by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known unto God: I will perfect what concerns you.” And, accordingly, it was; for my fears were mercifully prevented, which gives me ground to say, “He is the God that performs all things for me.”
1704.—As for the Lord’s way with me in the year 1704, I shall, as the Lord enables me, declare. The first day the Lord was very gracious to my soul, and brought many sweet thoughts to my mind, with respect to the circumstance of the day, which is known to be a day of asking nothing and giving of gifts.
Then were these three questions suggested to me:—First, What have you been seeking to your new-year’s gift? Secondly, What have you gotten to your new-year’s gift? Thirdly, What have you given back?
For answer to those questions, I thought, if my heart do not deceive me, that all that I was seeking was nearer conformity to Himself, a more holy and circumspect walk, and that I might be useful in my generation, for His glory, and His people’s good. “What is thy request, and it shall be given thee?” In which place I desired to give myself to the Lord, soul and body, to be disposed of by Him as He pleased, and to give up with lusts and idols, that my heart might be wholly His. These things were sweet and pleasant to me when I reflected on them afterwards, which made me cheerful in whatever I was doing. O but how unfaithfully did I improve all these mercies by an unholy, unfaithful, and sluggish frame and disposition! I anew began to turn after strange lovers, and suffer my heart to wander on the mountains of vanity; idols entered into my affections, though I had solemnly sworn the contrary, that I would have no more ado with them.
I wholly neglected these two noble duties of watching and fighting against these sins that so easily beset me; thus did I requite the Lord, so foolish and unwise was I. Then did my heart’s plagues grow upon my hand: I got a new distemper to grapple with; a messenger of Satan was sent to buffet me severely; but fools for their sins and their iniquities are afflicted. O the molestation I was in! I was tossed from duty to duty, crying that it might depart from me, but had no success. It remained and increased day by day. I found two parties warring together within
me: the one party was for putting away all these horrid iniquities; but this was a very faint-hearted party, and was soon put to the worse ere ever it was well resolved. But I found another party in me that was well content to entertain with pleasure those unholy and foolish suggestions, and this party was the strongest by far, for it always got place. The thoughts of these put me in a great disorder, and tormented me continually, and many times was I upbraided, both by my own conscience and from the scripture, that I was not following the Lord with all my heart, but feignedly; for which cause I sent up many bitter sighs and groans that it might please the Lord to pity me, that I might not be any more molested with this temptation, and that He might keep me from being a snare to any, for I saw it was one of the devices of Satan not only to make the wicked snares to the Lord’s people, but even to make the godly snares to one another. For this I besought the Lord often, but still my confusions continued and increased; neither could I understand the language of it, but went from duty to duty, mourning and lamenting, with this heavy burden on my back, which was like to sink my spirits, fearing the Lord had left me.
Yet, in the midst of these confusions, I cannot but remark that the Lord was now and then giving me some tokens of His favour, poor, unworthy, and unholy as I was; sometimes in public ordinances, sometimes in secret, and other times when in converse with the godly, but more particularly upon the 19th of March (being Sabbath), which was one of the most stormy days ever I saw for snow, sleet, and boisterous winds; yet there was a sweet summer day of the gospel, when I desire to believe many frozen hearts were thawed and melted in that place, of which I was one. And O that I may never forget what that day I felt on my soul! The minister was one Mr. John Scott, of Carluke, a stranger to us, but a messenger of Christ sent to Libberton kirk with sweet tidings. That day his text was (John xii. 26), “If any man serve me, let him follow me; and where I am, there shall also my servant be: If any man serve me, him will my Father honour.” O how my heart and desire went out, as in a flame, to be one of Christ’s servants and followers. I thought every sentence he spoke my heart consented to it, this being the thing I was longing for—to follow Christ in all his imitable perfections.
After I came home I thought I got leave, as I had reason, to bless His holy name for such a glorious day as this was; but alas! how short while did this frame continue! “It was but like a morning cloud, and early dew, it soon passed away.” Darkness again seized on me; the ills of my heart and my predominant never ceased to molest me strongly, and not in an ordinary manner. O how like was my case to a winter day! for sometimes in the dead of winter the sun will shine and have some heat, so that it will melt the snow and thaw the frozen ice (it being as really the sun as in the midst of summer), but how long does it
continue? But very short while, then freezes and hardens again, darkness comes on, and so it was with me. Therefore, there is another thing which I cannot forbear to remark, with respect to the Lord’s dealings with me in divers ways and manners. About fourteen days after this there was a servant in the family that fell sick of a fever, and it was much borne in on me that it was death dealing with her. I besought the Lord on her account, but durst not seek her recovery. In the meantime, I was made to believe that none other in the family should receive hurt of this nature but herself. Through the week she continued very ill, and on Thursday, about ten at night, I, being in the next room to that where the sick person was, being troubled in my body through the day, I cast myself on the bed, as it were to rest me a little before I went to duty; but, in a moment’s time, the candle that was in the room kindles the hangings, and immediately it flies up in a flame, which probably might have done great skaith if, providentially, one had not come to the door. I got up like one distracted, and flew to it with my hands, and burnt them desperately; but, glory to God, it was presently put out, and no skaith done but a little piece of the hanging burnt; all the hurt I got it myself. Now, though this was over, it was but begun with me—being in great torment both in body and mind; my hands were in that degree of pain that I thought I was quite laid by for any kind of duty whatsoever, and my mind was in a great rack, thinking that the fright might have been a mean of the sick person’s death, and then, how could I free myself of it? In this distressed case I went to the Lord and told Him my mind, as He enabled me, both for the sick person and for myself, and, as He had been a physician many times to my soul, so now that He might be the same to my body, I being in the extremity of pain. I must acknowledge this was a sweet night to my soul, where I saw, in meditation, “the Sun of righteousness arise, with healings under his wings” to me in a particular manner. O what have I to count for! for the love of Christ hath been more displayed to me than to other thousands, and yet, to my shame, I may say, there is none in the world improves it so ill as I do.
Then began I to inquire what the language of this dispensation was, and what I should learn from it? To which I got three answers:—First, I saw that God had an holy and permissive hand in it, and that to reprove me for a flame of passion I had been in some days before; so that one flame reproves another, to teach me more meekness when offence is given me. I also saw His holy hand in so preventing that it came to no more height; as likewise, He disappointed my fears about the poor woman, for next day she got a cool, and there was hope of her recovery; but in two or three days she relapsed and died. Secondly, I saw Satan’s malicious hand in it, who always goes about doing mischief. It would have been a good turn done to him if that one professing religion had been the instrument of burning an
house. O then, how would the way of God been spoken against! Thirdly, I saw my own careless hand in it, in not being aware where I set the candle, as also in my lying down to sleep when I should have been at prayer. Many and sweet were the thoughts and meditations I got this night on these things which supported me under any troubles that were on my body.
Some days after, when the woman removed and was a corpse in the house, I was under a great damp of spirit, and retired a while to the fields to bemoan my case before the Lord, where I had strong and vehement desires to be away, and could have wished myself to have been the next corpse, and that because I saw sin continually prevailing against me, and that not in an ordinary manner: I dishonour God, and am useless in my generation.
I also saw that there was a trial begun on my spirit, which was the forerunner of some heavy dispensation to me, if death did not prevent it; for I thought I was a monster of iniquity, and would it not be for the glory of God to remove such an one out of the world? As for the Lord’s mind to me in this particular, all remained dark and dubious, so that this increased my trouble the more. Notwithstanding of my distempered case, I communicated at Dalkeith about the beginning of May. I was greatly in the dark, yet I saw that it was my duty to communicate, looking only to the righteousness of another for my acceptance. My temptations continued, and any little blink that I got was when I was in converse and joined in prayer with some of my intimate comrades.
On Monday I got a very sore onset from my wicked heart, which sent me to prayer, a little before I left this place, where I got leave to pour out my troubled mind before Him, though in deep distress. This night, after I came home, there was a child in the family (whom I loved dearly) fell sick, which proved a very strong and dangerous fever, so that nothing but death was expected. I was very much concerned for the child, and besought the Lord on his account. But more particularly one day he was very weighty on my spirit, and, though this was but a short while, yet it was a very sweet while, where I besought the Lord for these things—his life submissively, his salvation, and my own sanctification peremptorily. All those I got leave to plead, and to believe my request would be granted from that sweet scripture promise, “I have heard thee in an acceptable time, and in a day of salvation have I succoured thee.” The same day he grew worse and very weak, so that they came in to see his breath go out. When I saw him in this weak posture I was in a great consternation what to make of the promises, so left the rest and went alone, never expecting to see him again in life. However, it pleased the Lord in His own time to disappoint our fears and to recover him, which was a token that as the Lord had heard me in this my request, so He would in other things, though long delayed; but the Lord, who is a God of wisdom, dealt in various
ways with me; He one day lifts me up, and another day casts me down. My temptations grew on my hand, my distractions grew in a dreadful manner, so that I became a horror to myself, for to none could I make myself known; and all that I could do was, as frequently as possible, to retire and bemoan my sad case to the Lord Himself, still seeking light as to this; but no answer that I could at the time understand. Then did atheism and unbelief haunt me from place to place, but more especially one Sabbath day I was most troubled with it.
About this time the Sacrament was given at Libberton, and I had some thoughts that the Lord would manifest Himself to me there, for communion-times—sometime a day—have been glorious days to me. I could take the Lord to witness that it was Himself alone I was seeking, holiness in heart and life, and to be useful in my generation, to have no will but His for my rule. I saw myself vile and lost, a den of devils, though secret ones, and no help but in the Mediator. On these considerations I durst not omit the duty of communicating. I went to the second table, where I was no sooner set, but there was one of the greatest temptations and difficulties presented me, which I neither can nor will record. This put me quite out of order for that solemn work, so that I could neither think nor speak, but was filled with discouragement and discontent, thinking the Lord did not regard me, seeing those things that I was so crying and praying against were so increasing.
On the back of this Communion I thought to have lost my wits with oppression that was on my spirit. I wist not what to do, my bowels within me were troubled. I was in sore distress of mind. I thought that all the promises for my sanctification were so visibly contradicted, that there was no reconciling of them; and as for that black devil—atheism, it haunted me like a ghost from place to place, and put me on the rack, which made me oftentimes cry out and bewail the day I came into the world; and many bitter sighs and groans came from the bottom of my heart, which were the greatest part of my prayers, for I could not make language of my distemper, it was so very singular. I could compare myself to nothing so like as one in a rage of a high fever. I lost all my spiritual senses. I had no stomach for spiritual duties. I had no strength to oppose the enemy. I neither saw nor heard. I spoke and raved much nonsense, so then I concluded that death would be the upshot of my soul.
I continued many days in this distressed condition, which none in the world knew of, so could not sympathize with me. I was just like a poor infant cast out in the open fields, and no eye to pity or help, and as little could I do for myself. In the midst of this disquieted condition I was, for the most part, getting scripture-promises to encourage me that an out-gate was coming; but, alas! unbelief swallowed up all the comforts, and left me in distress. There was a particular day, I being very distressed, walking up and down the house, and about my ordinary affairs, that word much
haunted me, “It is the time of Jacob’s trouble, but he shall be delivered out of it:” and as I was musing on it, for it came very sweetly to me, that word followeth, “He hath said it, and will he not do it? Hath he spoken it, and will he not bring it to pass?” This I was made to believe should be accomplished in due time. There was another very remarkable promise given me on Sabbath morning. When I was at secret prayer, and very distressed, then was the Lord pleased, both to give me a look and a word, which melted and composed my drooping spirit: “I will heal your back-slidings; I will love you freely.” O how sweet was this to me! I gripped to it as greedily as ever a drowning man to a rope cast to him for his safety. This was the thing I was seeking, for I was a backslider both in heart and practice.
(To be Continued.)