LETTER XLVIII.
Dear Charles,—You are pleased to say that “such
thoughts ought to be preached.” Were the sacred desk my
station, as it is yours, Charles, then would I strive to preach
as I write; but why may not private Christians write and
talk preaching, while the clergy preach preaching?
Our informal words might not have the dignity and stateliness
of set-discourses; yet, for that very reason, they
might, perhaps, attract and rivet attention to solemn thought,
in many cases, where men would listen to a sermon as a
matter of mere taste and custom, or merely to pass the hour.
It is indeed, and beyond all doubt, by “the foolishness of
preaching” good is generally done morally and spiritually;
but “preaching” is too commonly regarded by the worldly
sort as a species of trade; and the good accomplished by it
comes to be blended in their thoughts with a profession and a
day. Could men, however, be caused to see and to feel that
goodness is a principle and not a mere result, and that, like a
living stream, it should ever flow from a perennial fountain;
and hence that all true believers love to be bound, and feel
that obligation a precious privilege, in every possible way to
do good, then would much erroneous sentiment and much
prejudice be removed from men's bosoms.
Were it in my power, Charles, (but it is in no human
power,)—were it in my power, by any art or contrivance,
to show our neighbors the full meaning, or the meaning
as far as careful Christians do often perceive, and which is
conveyed to their minds in such scriptural sayings as these,
“the Lord's freemen,” “the glorious liberty of the sons of
God;” oh! my friend, it could not fail so to captivate and
delight them. If it did not make them converts, it would
make them cease wondering why true Christians should
joyfully do, in the week, what the preacher shows on the
Sabbath to be their duty.
Why, Charles, it is, strictly, an honor, a privilege, a
liberty, a delight, a favor to serve God! Duty, indeed, it
is; and good men too often sink down to the mere dutypoint
in their feelings; yet often do they rise so far above
that point, as to forget the obligation, and to glory and rejoice
in the privilege. And well may one, enriched and
blessed with such a feeling, rejoice with joy unspeakable
and full of glory! He then has the deep assurance, and
the rich foretaste of heaven. He feels and knows that power
is given him to be a son of God! All the glowing words
of devout men on this topic, and what usually passes for
extravagance, and not infrequently for raging fanaticism, are,
after all, really tame and spiritless compared with the truth!
It is wholly impossible here for words to show the truth: that
truth is a revelation to each man's spiritual perception.
When any one, even in a small degree, appreciates that
truth, he exclaims in his wondering soul: “What manner
of love is this, that we should be called the sons of God!”
I am well aware the following remark cannot be appreciated
by worldly men, and that it may provoke a sneer,
yet it is soberly and truly said now: a genuine Christian
is intrinsically (by a divine birth) a person of great value
and dignity. And this is said not figuratively, not by way
of contrast and comparison, not to make the most of the
case, but simply because the remark is truth. A real
Christian is in a special sense a son of God. Thus constituted,
he is transformed from baseness to excellence; and
that in very many points of view. He is as truly a new
creature as if formed again, and coming into life by a new
birth. He differs from his former self as really and as
widely as opposites on the two sides of an impassable gulf!
Here is a most amazing difference: he does habitually, and
with heartfelt delight, strive in all his thoughts and words
and actions to please God! He feels that his imperfect
love and obedience are an acceptable sacrifice of sweet savor,
which he offers by the Spirit, through the Son, to the
Father. This is part of his present heaven, and not to do
it, would be part of his present hell.
Worldly men do, indeed, affect independence. They are
comparatively more and less moral, in a loose sense of the
term; but so long as they serve not God, they are intrinsically
worthless and base. This is not improper language,
nor to be compared in strength with Scriptural language,
which represents men, when unrenewed, as slaves of sin—
as children of Satan.
All argument evincive of this truth, even if believed,
cannot make men love the truth. Indeed, the natural heart
so rises in proud and scornful and bitter hatred, that a man,
just in proportion to his logical success in this argument,
becomes the object of a deep and intense contempt. Here is
the precise place where “the carnal heart is enmity against
God; is not reconciled to his law, and neither indeed can
be.”
Usually, however, all effort to prove here is regarded
as sophistry; and he that reasons of “righteousness, and
temperance, and a judgment to come,” is commonly deemed
a narrow-minded philosopher, filled with one strange idea!
He is thought to be a setter forth of strange gods! At all
events, he is esteemed a mere partisan, who for pay or for
friendship is doing all he can for his sect or party. And
from these things no talents, nor learning, nor suavity, nor
benevolence, nor personal nor official dignity can secure
him. He must deliberately make up his mind always to be
thought, and not rarely called, for Christ's sake, a fool!
Charles, while “our most holy religion” is not—as
Hume to the contrary sneeringly affirms—is not founded
on faith in opposition to reason, still a spiritual capacity is
indispensable to the perception, and a spiritual taste to the
enjoyment of spiritual truths. And this perception is accompanied
by feelings and emotions new, distinct, real. In
all this is felt that internal conviction of the truth, which
cannot, by mere argument, be wrought in the carnal or
worldly mind.
Hence the genuine Christian knows and feels that the
service of the regenerate is freedom, and that of the unregenerate,
slavery. This feeling is in nothing more unnatural
or unphilosophic than any other feeling consequent
upon true perceptions. Good men do, therefore, unaffectedly
and naturally loathe and abominate and stand amazed
at their former life; and they rejoice in, and prefer, their
new course. At times these persons do also feel so happy
in the service of God, as to find all expressions of the most
fervid minds inadequate to state the truth.
In every respect there is difference, and in most, direct
opposition between the men of earth and the men of heaven:
the one are slaves, the other freemen. Should a person say
“I know I live to please and serve God, and do have delight
in his service,” that man, if his views are intelligent of the
nature and requirement of that service, that man is a Christian.
Should he further ask what is the service required,
I answer, in the words of holy writ: “Whatsoever you do,
do all for the glory of God.” For I do most stoutly maintain
that in all our thoughts, and words, and actions, in all
our business throughout the day, there ever is, in a good
man's spirit, some reference, direct or indirect, to God:
“God is in all his thoughts.” And I further maintain, that
a good man perceives such entire devotion and self-consecration
to be a most reasonable service, while a bad man
secretly abhors it as an intolerable burden.
If such hints in any of my letters, Charles, can aid in
constructing your sermons, use them; it will not be plagiarism.
