LETTER V.

TO THEOPHILUS.

DEAR FRIEND,

I well remember some conversation which we once had upon the subject of the creation, and feeling my mind particularly imprest with that subject, I venture only to drop a word or two upon it, ’tis a mercy to be satisfied with what God has said; but some are daringly presumptuous, so that they can treat both the Deity and his revelation with contempt. I am glad you are delivered from that snare. The Mosaic account of the Creation has always been supposed to be too weak, simple, and incorrect for a philosophic mind; they vainly suppose the mind ought to have been led through the whole Planetary System, instead of being led to the glorious Work of Redemption, which reflects his highest honour and beauty; for here, and here alone, his brightest form of glory shines.

The six days work of Creation was to open to the eye of faith his works very gradually, that like the stars of a night, they might be seen one by one. The six days work, and the seventh day of rest, was no doubt designed to shadow forth the Seven Millenniums, which would include all time between the two eternities. The first day, from Adam to Enoch, had in it a revelation of the true light—the second, from Enoch to Abraham, including the division of the waters—the third day, from Abraham to David, including the separation of the nations of the world—the fourth day, represented the Thousand Years from Solomon to Christ, the time when the Shekinah appeared in the Temple: the Church, fair as the Moon, and the Prophets, the Stars, shone bright in the firmament. At the close of this, Christ the true Sun appeared. The fifth day was to point out the state of the church and the world, from Christ to the Reformation, when the great Whales of Anti-christian powers, troubled the seas. This lasted till the glorious Reformation, the beginning of the Sixth Day, in which we now are, and longing for the Seventh, the rest of Jesus and his Bride, in the den of Eden, the glorious Millennium. But infidels object to the Mosaic account of light, the finest emblem of Jesus—there is nothing in the account contrary either to reason or philosophy. I acknowledge the question which philosophers have asked, cannot be solved, the Bible has not engaged to satisfy vain curiosity, viz. What was that light that made its appearance before the Sun? A very learned man supposes it to have been an emanation of the same Sun that enlightens us, and which was created though it had not yet appeared in his glory, yet it shed sufficient light to make the Globe visible.—This is not a bad idea for a half-hearted Christian Philosopher.—Milton seems to lean this way when speaking of light—

To journey through the aerial gloom began, Sphered in a radient cloud, for yet the Sun Was not, she in a cloudy tabernacle Sojourn’d the while.

This is a very pretty idea, nor is it at all contrary to reason any more than the cloud that followed the Israelites which contained a shade, a fire, darkness, and light at the same time. Yet the word of God is true, and to that we must adhere. As light without the sun was first formed, so it appears the great Creator collected these particles of light into one body, the Sun. The language of scripture often expresses the appearance of things to us, such as the Sun rising and setting, which at the same time, perfectly in the main point, agreeing with the Newtonian System of Philosophy. Did light appear first? was it not to notice the dispensation for the four first thousand years, till on the fourth day the Sun of Righteousness should appear? Was it not an emblem of all the light the Church of God has now, till the second appearance of the Son of God in our nature, and of that light which we have till the Saviour shines upon the soul, with healing in his beams? We have light to see ourselves and his glory, but we want him to shine with power, then we shall be light in the Lord, till then, light and darkness must struggle together; and God divided them, to shew the difference between the Law and the Gospel—between the Flesh and the Spirit, between the Church and the World—between the Elect and the Reprobate—Christ and Anti-christ. See the light and darkness struggling; see it soon begins in Cain and Abel, and to this day it continues, and will for ever. The Elect and Reprobate are divided in election, in redemption, in calling, in principles, in practices, in death, judgment, and eternity. May this subject lead you and me to the Saviour, who is the light, the beauty, purity, loveliness, and glory of the Church. O may we see him, love him, adore him, and enjoy him, till we behold him in Heaven.

Permit me to notice further, that the Holy Ghost is pleased to represent various characters and things by these same terms, Sun, Moon, Light, and Stars,—which is really worthy our attention. He sets forth the Lord Jesus by that well known emblem, the Sun, and I think it is the finest figure in nature; and hence that very precious promise to those who are the called according to his purpose, Unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his beams. Eternal sun, whose morning measures all our days, who hast gradually risen on my dear friend’s heart, shine brighter to perfect day, even to that blessed meridian when in our flesh we shall see God.

Sometimes the moon, in scripture, signifies the Church of God as inferior to Christ, the glorious sun, from whom they borrow all their light and truth; their frames and feelings inconstant, spotted in their hearts and lives, which is the cause of much grief to their souls, yet they are the light of this lower world, and their influence is great on the sea of this troubled state.

Light is sometimes used as an emblem of God’s word, as pure, glorious, pleasant, and comfortable, penetrating and purifying. While favored with this light, may we walk in it, lest darkness overtake us, as it is written, Give glory to the Lord your God, before he cause darkness.—By Stars, in scripture, sometimes the Spirit condescends to point out the Ministers of the Gospel, with all the Ordinances, which are designed, like the Star in the East, to lead to the grand end, the Babe of Bethlehem. These are fixed in the firmament of the Church, for adorning it, and for guiding the spiritual mariner to endless glory, amidst the nights of trouble and woe. These are held in the hands of Christ, kept, supported, and blest by him; and though constantly opposed and troubled, yet shine on, and shine forth. This is the mystery of the Seven Stars. But these are likewise used to point out other things in sacred writ. When God foretold the exaltation of Joseph, in a dream, he shewed him, in a second revelation, the sun, moon, and eleven stars, bowing down to him; which was afterwards explained by the venerable Patriarch finding an asylum with his son Joseph, and his brethren doing him homage in his state of exaltation.—And was it not a striking type of our truly-exalted spiritual Joseph? honored by the most dignified characters in our world, for kings shall submit themselves to him, and the whole Church of Jesus, the moon, with all the stars, ministers of the Gospel, that should bow before him, and Crown him Lord of all.

I remark again, that when the Saviour predicted the overthrow of Jerusalem, he foretold that the sun should be darkened, that is, that the Lord, who was the light of the Jewish Church, should withdraw his light, justly leave them in judicial blindness, in which they remain to this day—that the moon should be turned into blood, that is, their Synagogue, their Church, which was put to the sword, (at least the greatest part of them)—that the stars should fall—their doctors, rulers over the church and state—which they did. But Solomon, in his 12th of Ecclesiastes, verse 2, seems to borrow these metaphors of sun, moon, light, and stars, and applies them to the human frame, when sickness or old age has impaired it. Good Mr. Henry remarks on this passage—the decays and infirmities of old age are here elegantly set forth in figurative expressions, which have some difficulty in them to us now, who are not acquainted with the phrases and metaphors used in Solomon’s age and language. But the general scope is plain, to shew how uncomfortable, generally, the days of old age are. Then he proceeds, and says, that the sun, moon, stars, and light will be dim to old people, through the decay of their sight; their countenance is decayed, and the beauty and lustre of it is eclipsed—their intellectual powers and faculties, which are as light in the soul, are weakened—their understanding and memory fail them, and their apprehension is not so quick, nor their fancy so lively as it has been.—Light is often put for joy and prosperity—the days of their mirth are over, and they have not the pleasure either of the converse by day, or the repose of night, for both the sun and moon was darkened to them; then the clouds return after the rain, as when the weather is disposed to wet, no sooner is one shower blown over but another succeeds it, when one pain is a little abated another comes on—the gout, the rheumatism; and so these afflictions being common to aged persons, they are continually grieved.

That famous commentator, Patrick, observes on this verse, that the words intimate the universal decay of the whole frame of nature, and a failing of the mind in all its faculties and powers—that something particular is signified by every word; that by the sun is meant the soul itself; by the light the understanding, by the moon his will, by the stars all the motion of the mind and memory, with all the affections and powers in the will. So the sense of the wise man is thus—the mind of man grows feeble in all its powers, the understanding dim-sighted, the memory forgetful, the reason weak and childish, giving even a feeble light, that can neither direct ourselves or others. The will listless in all its desires, dull about our greatest concerns, wavering and inconstant in all resolutions, and so on. But the interpretation first mentioned seems most consistent.

Surely then, my Brother, these are some of the evil days which are hastening on us, and though we may not live to see old age, yet, through affliction we may have all our faculties as much impaired as the most ancient person in the world; this has been very often seen.—What a mercy I do consider it, that he who hath begun the good work in my heart, can carry it on without my aid, or the concurrence of my powers or faculties working with him. Say not it is my duty to do so and so, in and with the work of the Spirit: Thou, Lord, says the Church, shall work all our works in us, and ordain peace for us. But while we would look forward to the evil days which must come on the body, may we not notice some evil days that our souls may meet with, when the all-healing, comfortable, soul-reviving, soul-cheering, heart-warming beams of Christ, the glorious Sun of Righteousness shall be with-held, and coldness, deadness, sickness, darkness, legality, and distance is felt; and such seasons have befel the brightest saints. Hence the mournful cry, Why hidest thou thy face, O Lord? thou hidest thy face and we are troubled, about our state, our feelings, our wants, our prospects, our way, our end. We always know when we feel him shine and when we do not, though, as it respects himself, he is just the same in his shining, but we are not sensible of it by reason of the cloud that cometh betwixt. When we feel this wretched state we are always ready to fly to means, though we ought never to neglect them; yet there is a proneness in us to cleave to something short of the main subject. But, alas, we find the moon of Ordinances is just as dark! We move backwards and forwards, like the door on its hinges, yet get neither dew nor rain, light, life, comfort, nor joy. At the table of the Lord we neither feel love nor pity for our dear Saviour. In singing his praises we have no heart, in associating with his people we get nothing from them; if they talk of joys, we have none! if of a broken-heart, we feel nothing but hardness—if of light or comfort, we feel destitute of both—thus the moon gives no light. As to ministers, they don’t seem to touch our case, nor is their word cloathed with any power. We fancy they are very much altered in their preaching—we change them: the passions are stirred up for a little while, but we find we are in just the same state. Hence the spouse is represented as having lost her lover—she rises, runs, seeks, mourns, and is still disappointed. I sought him but I found him not. Then she went into the broad places of public worship, then into the streets, among the inhabitants; after this to ministers, to enquire, how? why? and wherefore? But, for a season, all was still dark, yes, very dark indeed: these stars seem to give but little light during such painful seasons: the scriptures of light shut up in their beautiful histories, promises, types, parables, and doctrines, where we could see Christ once in every part, and enjoy him; now, alas, it is not so, but it is as a spring shut up, and sealed from us. While this is attended with a lowering sky, and a continual dropping of rain; no bright clouds now return as they used to do, and how it is with us we cannot tell. Once if we felt a little dark or uncomfortable, it was soon gone, smiling hope used to spring up, or a promise sent home with power. The company of God’s people cheered us up, or a little access to God’s throne revived us. Seldom heard a sermon but we got something by it—and if a few storms of persecution, temptation or corruption, or family trials befel us, the Lord made a bright cloud after it; but, alas, it is not thus with us now, these clouds don’t return after the rain—thus

Afflictions like vapours may rise, Light, love, and delight may be gone; The sun may be dark in the skies, And hell with its legions come on!

Ah, my dear Brother, these are dark days truly, but it shall not be always thus; to the upright there arises light in darkness—this light is sown for us, and shall spring up again.

But may I not here enquire, as on another occasion, the Prophet did, Shall there be an evil in the City and the Lord hath not done it? Is there not a cause? Why doth a living man (a quickened man) complain? Let us enquire the cause: Have you not been making too much of your comforts? Have you not been looking at them instead of the Saviour, living on them instead of his fulness?—and were you not too prone to slight those who had not attained the same consolation? And, if so, Can you wonder that God should permit a partial death to overtake you?—Or, perhaps, there may be other causes—a sad neglect of those means which are appointed for the spiritual health of the soul: as abstinence, or neglect of food, will soon bring the body into a pining, languishing condition, so, if the means of the knowledge of grace be not diligently attended to and implored, our souls must get into a starving state. The indulgence of sensual pleasures may bring on deadness, darkness, and distance. See this in Sampson, while sleeping in the lap of Delilah, he was shorn of his strength; and he arose to shake himself as at other times, but he wist not that the Lord had departed from him. But perhaps the Lord has done this to shew his adorable sovereignty, as in the case of Job: hence his complaint, He hath fenced up my way that I cannot pass, and he hath set darkness in my path. And so complains Jeremiah, He hath led me, and brought me into darkness, and not into light. Sometimes this is done to humble us, lest we should be exalted above measure. But, above all, the Spirit leads into these deep and painful feelings, to make us prize our adorable Redeemer, and see our continual need of being supplied from his fulness. He lets our cisterns run dry, that we may come and lay our vessels under the flowings of the blessed fountain of life, that from him we might receive grace for grace.

May great grace rest on you. I remain Your willing Servant in Christ,