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The works of the Rev. John Wesley, Vol. 09 (of 32)

CHRISTIAN LETTERS. By Mr. JOSEPH ALLEINE. (continued 2)

Reading edition

Most endeared Christians,

I SEND you a few prison counsels.

1. To improve for eternity, the advantages of your present state. Though you are at many disadvantages with respect to the public ordinances, yet you have many most happy privileges. Oh what a mercy have you that you may serve God when you will in your families! That you may be as much as you will with God in secret prayer, and holy meditation, and self-examination! I beseech you consider what a blessing you have above others, that have your health, and a competency, and are free from those heart-eating cares, that others are disabled by, from looking after God and their souls. Oh consider what a blessed seed-time you have for eternity! Now be wise and improve your happy season. Prepare for death. Make all sure: press on towards the mark. Lay up in store for yourselves a good foundation against the time to come. In the morning sow your seed, and in the evening withdraw not your hand. Treasure up much in heaven. What profit is it that you have more than others? More liberty, more comfort, more health, more wealth? Except you love God more, and serve him better than others. Now ply your work, and dispatch your business, so as that you may have nothing to trouble you upon your death-beds.

2. To consider also the disadvantages of your state. Study to know your own weakness, and where your danger lies, that you may obviate Satan, and prevent your miscarrying: there is no condition but has its snares. See that ye acquaint yourselves with his devices lest you be beguiled by him, through your own unwariness. You that are well provided for in the world had need to watch yourselves, lest you fall in love with present things, lest you be lifted up, lest you trust in those carnal props, and put confidence in the creatures, lest you warp, and decline, and baulk your duties, through the desire of preserving your estates. You that have little in the world, are not without your temptations: Oh take heed of envying others prosperity, of murmuring and discontent, of diffidence and distrustfulness, of using indirect means to help yourselves: be sure you make not any pressures an excuse from your daily serving God in your families, and in secret. Set this down as your rule, and unchangeable resolution, that God and your souls and your families shall be looked duly and continually after, go the world which way it will. Consider what sins your tempers, relations, callings, most expose you to. Be not strangers to yourselves. Prove yourselves upright in keeping from your iniquities.

*3. To converse often with your dust. Brethren, we are going; the grave waiteth for us: O forget not that corruption is your father, and the worm your mother, and your sister! These are your kindred that you must shortly dwell with, when you come to your long home. Remember the days of darkness which shall be many. Take every day some serious turns with death. Think where you shall be a few days hence. Happy he that knew not what to-morrow meant for twenty years together. Believe it, you will find it no little thing to die. Think often how you are provided. Were you never within sight of death? How did it look? What did you wish for most at that time? What did then trouble you most? Oh mark these things, and live accordingly. Often ask your hearts, What if God should this night require my soul?

*4. To serve your generation with your might while you have time. You have but a very little time to bring God any glory here, or to do your friends any good. Now up and be doing. Now or never live in the deep and constant sense of the very little time that you have for this world, and the great work you have to do. You are going whence you shall not return. There’s no after-game to be played. What! But one cast for eternity, and will you not be careful to throw that well?

Most dearly beloved, I covet after your furtherance in mortification, and growth in grace. And oh that I could represent death unto you, as it will shew shortly itself: or could but open a window into eternity to you: How effectually would this do the work! Then the cripple would fling away his crutches, the slothful would pluck his hand out of his bosom, and shake off his excuses, and be night and day at his work. Then the Laodicean would be recovered from his ♦benumbed frame; then we should have no halving in religion, no lazy wishing and complaining; but men would ply the oars to purpose, and sweat at their work.

Brethren, lift up yourselves above the objects of sense; be men for eternity, and carry it like those that seek for glory, honour, and immortality. I commend you to divine grace; and am

Your’s in the bonds of the gospel of our Lord Jesus,

JOS. ALLEINE.

From the common gaol at Ivelchester, March 5, 1665.

LETTER XVIII.

To the loving and most beloved people, the servants of God in Taunton, grace and peace.

Most dearly beloved,

*ALTHOUGH I am forced at the present, to be at a distance from you, yet I would not have you ignorant, that the care of your eternal welfare is always living upon my heart. Therefore as my beloved friends I warn you, and cease not to stir you up by way of remembrance, being jealous for you with a godly jealousy, that no man take your crown. I know you have many enemies, and above all I fear your bosom enemies: and as the watchman of the Lord I give you careful warning, and exhort you all not to be high-minded, but fear. Blessed is the man that feareth always. Look diligently, lest any of you fail of the grace of God. You have made long profession of the name of Jesus Christ: Oh, see upon what ground you stand. You must, every one of you, stand shortly before the judgment-seat of Christ, and be tried for your lives: Oh, try yourselves throughly first. ’Tis easy to mistake a partial reformation and external obedience, for true sanctification. Therefore I beseech you every one, to examine whether you are in the faith. Prove your ownselves. Tell not me, you hope you are sincere, you hope you shall go to heaven: never put it off with hopes, but pray, and try, and search, till you know you are passed from death unto life, and that you have a building, not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

Suppose I should ask you one by one, where are your evidences for heaven? Could you make out your claim? Can you bring me scripture proof? Can you shew me the marks of the Lord Jesus? What mean you to live at uncertainties? Brethren, it is an intolerable ignorance for any of you in these days of glorious light, not to be able to tell the distinguishing marks of a sound believer. And it is intolerable ♦carelessness, if you do not bring yourselves to the trial by these marks. What! Are your hands filled with books, and your ears with sermons, that tell you so plainly from the word of God, how you shall know whether you are in Christ, and are you still to seek? Oh, stir up yourselves. Take heed, lest a promise being left of entering into his rest, any of you fall short of it at last. You are a professing people; you pray, and you hear; but oh, look to your sincerity. Look to your principles, look to your ends; else you may lose all at last. Examine not only what is done, but whence ’tis done; look to the root as well as to the fruit. Eye not only your actions, but your aims. Remember what a strict eye you are under. The Lord Jesus makes strict observation upon all your works and ways. He observes who of you are fruitful, and who are barren and unprofitable. He knows who are thriving, and who declining. He observes who are warm, and who lukewarm: who are sound Christians, and who have only a name to live.

Christians, put on, press towards the mark, be adding to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge. See that you grow extensively, being abundant in all sorts of good works. Be pitiful, be courteous, gentle, easy to be intreated. Be slow to anger, soon reconciled. Be patient, be temperate, be chearful. Study not every one only his own things, but also the good of his neighbour. Think it not enough to look to your own souls but watch for the souls of others. Pray for them, warn them, be kind to them, study to oblige them, that by any means you may win them, and gain your souls.

Labour to grow intensively, to do better the things that you did before, to be more fervent in prayer, more free and willing in all the ways of the Lord, to hear with more profit, to examine yourselves more thoroughly, to mind heaven more frequently.

I commend myself to your prayers, and you to the grace of God, remaining

Your’s in the Lord Jesus,

JOS. ALLEINE.

Dorchester, July 7, 1663.

LETTER XIX.

[The character and privileges of true believers.]

To the most beloved people, the servants of God in Taunton, grace and peace.

Most dearly beloved,

I REJOICE to hear of God’s continual goodness towards you; he is your shepherd, and therefore it is that you do not want. Me you have not always, but he is ever with you; his rod and his staff shall comfort you. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow you all your days, and you shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

In this my dear brethren, rejoice, that God is engaged in so near and so sweet a relation to you. Doubtless your souls shall lodge in goodness, and be provided for carefully, that have the Almighty for your shepherd. Blessed are the flock of his hands, and the sheep of his pasture; happy are the people that are in such a case.

But who are Christ’s sheep?

Not all professors. I beseech you to take heed how you rest in profession. It is not profession, but conversion that turns a man from a swine to a sheep. Let none of you flatter yourselves, that because you have escaped the gross pollutions of the world, therefore you are among the number of Christ’s sheep. All this you may attain to, and yet be but washed swine; there must be an inward, deep, thorough, universal change upon your natures, dispositions, inclinations, or else you are not Christ’s sheep.

*If you will be put out of doubt whether you are his sheep or not, you must try it by the mark that Christ sets upon all his sheep, even your sanctification. You that will stand to the trial, answer me truly and deliberately to these questions. Do you hate every sin as the sheep doth the mire? Do you regard no iniquity in your hearts? Do you strive against, and oppose all sin, though it may seem never so necessary, never so natural to you, or have you not your secret haunts for evil? For every swine will have his swill. Do you abstain from sin out of fear, or out of dislike? Are you at peace with no sin? Do you not hide some iniquity as a sweet morsel under your tongue? Is there not some practice that you are not willing to know is a sin for fear you should be forced to leave it? Do you love the commandment that forbids your sin, or do you not wish it out of the bible, as that evil man wished, God had never made the seventh commandment? Again, How do you stand affected towards holiness? Do you love it? Do you choose it? Do you hunger and thirst after it, and desire it more than any temporal good? Have you chosen the way of God’s precepts, and had rather live holily than be allowed to live in your sins? Do you in your very hearts prefer a strict life in communion with and conformity to God, before the prosperity of the world? Do you chuse holiness, not out of bare necessity, because you cannot go to heaven without it, but out of love to it, and from a deep sense that you have of the surpassing loveliness, and beauty of it? If it be thus with you, you are the persons that the Lord Jesus hath marked for his sheep.

And now, come all that have this mark, come and understand your happiness. You are marked out for preservation, and let it go how it will with the rest, it shall go well with you. You are the separated ones upon whom the angel hath set the seal of the living God; you are redeemed unto God from among men, being the first fruits unto God and the Lamb, and have your Father’s name written in your foreheads.

Hail, you are highly favoured of the Lord, blessed are ye among men! Though you are but poor and despised, and little like Benjamin among the thousands of Judah; you carry away the blessing and the privilege from all the rest. God hath done more for the least of you than for the whole world of mankind besides. Fear not little flock, it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. All that the scripture speaks of that kingdom of glory, that everlasting kingdom, it speaks to you. Behold your inheritance. You are the sons of God, inheritors of the kingdom of heaven, joint heirs with Christ the Lord of glory.

Do you believe this? Do you thoroughly believe? If so, my work is done, I need not bid you rejoice, nor bid you be thankful, only believe. Do this and do all. Believe and you will rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory. Believe and you will be fruitful, and shew your faith by your works. Believe and you will love, for faith worketh by love. In a word, keep these things upon your hearts by daily and lively consideration, and this will bring heaven into your souls, and engage you to all manner of holy conversation. This will mortify you to the world, the grand enemy which I charge you to beware of. O remember, your’s is the kingdom; and ponder these sayings in your hearts. Beloved, I have written these things to you that your joy may be full. And now peace I leave with you. I am Christ’s embassador to you, an embassador of peace; his peace I pronounce unto you; in his name I bless you. Farewell in the Lord.

I am, The fervent well-wisher of your souls,

JOS. ALLEINE.

Devizes, June 29, 1666.

LETTER XX.

[Of the love of Christ.]

To the servants of God in Taunton, salvation,

Most dearly beloved,

OH that my letters in my absence might be useful to you! It is my joy to serve you, and my love to you is without dissimulation: Witness my twice lost liberties, and my impaired health, all which I might have preserved, had it not been for my readiness to minister to you.

But what do I speak of my love? It is the infinite love of God your Father that I would have to dwell upon you. Forget me, so you remember him. Let me be very little, so he be very lovely in your eyes. Bury me, so you set the Lord always before you. Let my name be written in the dust, so his name be written deep upon all your souls.

*O Lord, I am thy servant, truly I am thy servant, glorify thine own name by me, and thou shalt have my hand to it, that I will be content to be hid in obscurity, and to disappear through the brightness of thy glory.

I preach not myself, but the Lord Jesus. Give him your hearts, and I have my errand. I am but the friend of the bridegroom, and my business is, but to give you to understand his love, and to gain your hearts unto him. He is an object worthy of my commendations, and of your affections. His love is worth the writing of, and worth the thinking of, and worth the speaking of. Oh my brethren, never forget, I beseech you, how he loveth you. He is in heaven, and you are on earth; yet he loveth you. His heart is infinitely tender of you. Even now while he is at the right-hand of the Majesty on high, how feelingly doth he cry out at the hurt of his poor members on earth, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me! Oh of what quick sense is our dear Lord unto us! When we are touched on earth, he feels it in heaven.

Brethren, possess your hearts with this, that Christ’s love doth go out with infinite dearness towards you. Even now, whilst he is in all his glory, he earnestly remembers you still. This is the high-priest, that now entered into the holy of holies, doth bear your names, remembring every poor believer. He bears your names, but where? Upon his breast-plate, upon his heart, Exodus xxviii. 29. Sure your lot is fallen in an happy place! What, in the bosom of Christ? Yea, verily I may apply that of Gabriel, O Daniel, thou art greatly beloved! unto you. You are beloved indeed, to have your names written upon the very heart of Christ now he is in glory.

Oh, let his name be written on your hearts. Do not write his name in the sand, when he has written yours upon his own breast! Do not forget him who hath taken such care, that while he is, he may never forget you, having recorded your names, not only on his book, but on his flesh, and set you as a seal upon his heart. He hath you upon his heart, but why? For a memorial before the Lord continually. Beloved, your Lord is so far from forgetting you in all his greatness and glory, that he is gone into heaven on purpose, there to present you before the Lord, that you may be always in remembrance before him. O beloved, glory, yea, and triumph in his love: doubtless it must go well with us. Who shall condemn? It is Christ that died and rose again, and is now making intercession. His interest is potent. He is always present. Our advocate is never out of court. Never did cause miscarry in his hand. Trust you safely in him.

Oh, the riches of Christ’s love! He did not think it enough to die for you. His love doth not end with his natural life on earth, but he ever liveth to make intercession for us. His love is like his life, ever, ever: knowing no remission in degree, nor intermission of time, no cessation of working, but is ever, ever in motion towards us.

If the pens of all the world were employed to write volumes of love, if the tongues of all the living were exercised in nothing else but talking of his love; if all hearts were made up of love; and all the powers and affections of the mind turned into love, yet this were no less than infinitely too little, either to conceive or express the greatness of Christ’s love.

O my beloved, may your souls be swallowed up in this love. Think and think while you will, you can never think how much you are beloved. See that you love again by way of gratitude, though not of requital: What though your souls be but narrow, and your powers but little? Yet love him with all you have. Love him with all your hearts and all your strength. To the meditations, and to the embraces of divine love I leave you, remaining,

Your’s in the bonds of the most dear Lord Jesus,

JOS. ALLEINE.

August 11, 1665.

LETTER XXI.

To the beloved people, the inhabitants of Taunton, grace and peace.

Most dear friends,

MY chief joy is, that my beloved is mine and I am his. But next to that I have no joy so great as that you are mine and I am yours, and you are Christ’s. My relation to Christ is above all: he is my life and my peace, my riches and my righteousness: he is my hope and my strength, and mine inheritance, and my rejoicing: in him will I please myself for ever, and in him will I glory. I esteem myself most happy and rich, and safe in him, though of myself I am nothing. In him I may boast without pride, and glory without vanity. Here is no danger of being over-much pleased; neither can the Christian exceed his bounds in valuing his own riches and happiness in Christ. The Lord hath dealt bountifully with me, and none shall stop this my confidence of boasting in Christ. But as my lot in him is above all, so it is no small content to me, that my lot is fallen with you. And though I have broken my health, and lost my liberty once and again for your sakes, yet none of these things move me. I wish nothing more than to spend and to be spent upon the service of your faith. I bless the Lord for it is an invaluable mercy, that ever he called me to be an embassador of the Lord Jesus Christ to you-wards. In this station I desire to approve myself to him, and that I am withdrawn from my work for a season, it is but that I may return to you refreshed, and more enabled for my work among you. I am tender of preserving the little strength God doth add to me, entirely for your sakes. I bless the Lord I am in great tranquility here in this town, and walk up and down without any questioning me. I do by this return you my hearty thanks for your earnest prayers in my behalf, for it is God that must do the cure. I seem to be retired to this place, as a vessel rent and shattered and torn in the service, that is come to recruit in the harbour: And here I am as it were repairing and victualling to put forth again in the service: which I shall do as soon as I am ready. What is my life unless I am serviceable? And though I must for the present forbear my wonted labour, yet I shall not cease to exhort you while I am absent from you, to stand fast, and to grow up in your holy faith.

Be warned, my beloved, that you fall not upon those rocks on which so many have been split.

There are three things which I beseech you carefully to beware of.

First, Lest while Christ is in your mouths, the world run away with your hearts. There is many a seeming Christian that will be found a mere Idolater. Many a soul goes down to Hell in this sin, and never discerns it till it be too late. Remember, that the Oxen, the Farm, Wife, Merchandize, all of them lawful comforts, did effectually keep men from closing with Christ, as the vilest lusts of the worst of men. Whatever you find your hearts very much pleased in among these earthly comforts, set a mark upon that thing, and remember that there lies your greatest danger. What you love most, you must fear most; and think often with yourselves, this, if any thing, is like to be my ruin. Oh, the multitudes that perish by the secret hand of this enemy, the over-valuing of earthly things. The hearers compared to the thorny ground did openly fall away; but while others withered they were as green and fresh as ever; and yet their inordinate affection to the things of this life, secretly undid all at last. Little do most think while they please themselves in their estates, while they delight themselves so freely in their children, in their wives, in their habitations and possessions; that these are the things which are like to undo them for ever. How little is that scripture thought of, love not the world; if any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. Are there not many among us, who though they keep up prayer, and other holy duties; yet the strength of their hearts goeth out after earthly things? And these are their chief care and their chief joy. Such must know they are none of Christ’s; and they had better understand now, and seek to be renewed by repentance, than hereafter, when there shall be no place for repentance.

Secondly, Lest while iniquity abounds, your love to Christ wax cold. Remember what an abomination Laodicea was to Christ, because she grew luke-warm; and what a controversy he had with Ephesus, a sound church, because she did but slacken and grow remiss in her love. A friend is born for adversity; and now is the time, if you will prove the sincerity of your love to Christ, by following him zealously, resolvedly, fully, now he is rejected and opposed.

Thirdly, Lest you keep up a barren and fruitless profession. See to it, that you be not only professors, but proficients. Many think all is well because they go on in the exercises of religion; but alas! You may keep on praying and hearing all the week long, and yet be not one jot the farther. Many there are that keep going, but it is like the horse in the mill, that is going all day, but yet is no farther than when he first began. Nay, it often happens in the trade of religion, as in trading in the world, many keep on trading still, ’till for want of care, and examining their accounts, they trade themselves out of all. Oh, look to it my brethren, that none of you rest in the doing of duties, but examine what comes of them. Otherwise, as you may trade yourselves into poverty, so you may hear and pray yourselves into hardness of heart and desperate security and formality. This was the very case of wretched Laodicea, who kept in the track of religious duties, and verily thought that all was well, because the trade went on, and that she was increased in spiritual goods. But when her accounts were cast up, all comes to nothing, and ends in wretchedness, poverty, and nakedness. I commend you to the living God, remaining

Your fervent well-wisher and Embassador in Christ.

JOS. ALLEINE.

Devizes, June 22, 1666.

LETTER XXII.

[An admiration of the love of God.]

To the most loving and best beloved, the servants of God in Taunton, salvation.

My most dear friends,

I LOVE you, and long for you in the Lord, and I am weary with forbearing that good and blessed work that the Lord hath committed to me, for the furtherance of your salvation. How long, Lord, how long shall I dwell in silence? How long shall my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth? When will God open my lips, that I may stand up and praise him? But it is my Father’s good pleasure yet to keep me in a total disability of publishing his name among you; unto him my soul shall patiently subscribe. I cannot complain that he is hard to me: I am full of the mercies of the Lord, and shall I complain? Far be it from me.

*But though I may not murmur, methinks I may mourn a little, and sit down and wish, O if I may not have a tongue to speak, would I had but hands to write, that I might from my pen drop some heavenly counsels to my beloved people. But it cannot be; alas, my right hand seems to have forgot her cunning, and hath much ado with trembling to lift the bread into my mouth. Do you think you should have had so little to shew under my hand, to bear witness of my care for you, and love to you, if God had not shook my pen as it were out of my hand? But all that he doth is done well, and wisely, and therefore I submit. I have purposed to borrow hands wherewith to write unto my beloved, rather than be silent any longer.

But where shall I begin, or when should I end? If I think to speak of the mercies of God towards me, or mine enlarged affections towards you, I feel already how in-sufficient all I can say will prove at last to utter what I have to tell you: but shall I say nothing because I cannot utter all? This must not be neither.

Come then all ye that fear the Lord, and I will tell you what he hath done for my soul. Oh help me to love that precious name of his, which is above all my praises. O love the Lord all ye his saints, magnify him with me, and let us exalt his name together! He hath remembred my low estate, because his mercy endureth for ever. Blessed be you of the Lord, for all your remembrances of me before the Lord. You have wrestled with the Lord for me, you have wrestled me out of the jaws of death: O the strength of prayer! Surely it is stronger than death. See that you have the honour the power and prevalency of prayer: Oh be in love with prayer, and have high and venerable thoughts of it. What distresses, diseases, or death, can stand before it? Surely I live by prayer, prayer hath given a resurrection to this body of mine, when physicians and friends had given up their hopes.

O infinite love never to be comprehended, but ever to be admired, magnified, and adored by every creature! O let my heart be filled, let my mouth be filled, let my papers be filled with the thankful commemoration of this matchless love. O turn your eyes from other objects! O bury me in forgetfulness, and let my love be no more mentioned nor had in remembrance among you, so you be throughly possessed and inflamed with the love of God. See that you study this. Fill your souls with wonder, and be ravished with this love: take your daily walk, and lose yourselves in the field of love. O that your souls may be drowned in the love of Christ, ’till you say with the spouse, I am sick of love. Who in all the earth should admire and commend this love, if I should not? I feel it, I taste it, the sweet savour thereof reviveth my soul; it is light to mine eyes, and life to mine heart; the warm beams of this blessed sun, O how have they comforted me, ravished, and refreshed me both in body and soul! Now my own hands can feed me, and my own feet can bear me, my appetite is quick, my sleep comfortable, and God is pleased to give some increase continually though by insensible degrees: and shall not I praise that love which hath done all this for me? My heart is enlarged; but I told you paper could not hold what I have to speak of the goodness of the all-gracious God, in which I live. The grace of our Lord Jesus be with you all. Farewell in the Lord, I remain

Your unworthy minister and servent Well-wisher in the Lord,

JOS. ALLEINE.

LETTER XXIII.

To the servants of Christ in Huntingdon, grace and peace.

Most dear Christians,

I THANKFULLY acknowledge, both to God and you, that I am many ways obliged to love and serve you, and surely, when the Lord shall turn our captivity, I will (through his grace) endeavour to shew myself thankful. I am the more sensible of your great love, because I cannot be insensible how little I have been able to do to oblige you. Able, I say, for I am sure I have been willing to be much more serviceable. But now letters and prayers are all that I have for you: of these I shall be ready to be prodigal. I fervently pray, and do not doubt to speed, that you may reap in grace and glory, what you have sown in bounty. Verily, there is a reward for the righteous. Ah how sure is it! And how great, and how near!

Come on, my dear brethren and fellow-travellers. Stir up yourselves and set to your race. See that you loiter not, but speed in your holy course. What, tire by the way, or think of looking back when heaven is the prize? God forbid. To him that soweth righteousness there shall be a sure reward. What though it should seem slow? As long as it is so sure, and so great, never be discouraged. In the end you shall reap, if you faint not. Wait but awhile, and you shall have a blessed harvest. The Lord speaks to the Christian, as he to his creditor in another case, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. Oh for faith and patience! How safely will these carry us to the harbour, thro’ all difficulties.

Brethren, be ye followers of them, who thro’ faith and patience inherit the promises. It is want of patience that undoes the world. Patience I mean, not so much in the bearing the afflictive evil, as in waiting for the deferred good. If the reward of religion were in hand, who would not be religious? But the Lord deals all upon trust, and on that account is but little dealt with. You must plow and sow, and wait for the return of all at the harvest, when this life is ended. They that like not religion upon these terms, may see where they can mend their markets. But you, my brethren, be stedfast, unmovable, abounding in the work of the Lord; for as much as ye know your labour shall not be in vain in the Lord. Wait a little; there is but a short life between you, and the blessed inheritance of glory. Ah wretched unbelievers! How worthy are you to be shut for ever out of the kingdom, that did so undervalue all the glory that God had promised, as not to count it sufficient to pay you for a little waiting? Beloved, lift up your eyes, and behold your inheritance, the good land that is beyond Jordan, and that goodly mountain. The promises are a map of heaven. Do but view it believingly and considerately, as it is drawn there, and tell me, what think you of that worthy portion, that goodly heritage? Will not all this make you amends for your stay? Why then act like believers. Never think much of the pains and expences of religion. Let no man think he shall come off a loser. What though you are much upon the spending hand? God is before-hand with you however: but I would have you principally to look forward. It is much that God hath laid out upon you; but who can tell what he hath laid up for them that fear him? And will you miss of all for want of patience? God forbid.

Behold, the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruits of the earth, and hath long patience, ’till he receive the early and latter rain. Be ye also patient, stablish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh. What, shall the husbandman have more patience for the fruits of the earth, than you for the precious fruits of your faith? The husbandman hath no such certainty as you: he hath but a probability of an harvest, and yet he hath patience; he is content to venture. He is at great pains, and much cost; he is still laying out, and hath nothing coming in, and yet he is content to wait for his reimbursement, ’till the corn be grown. But your harvest is more sure, as sure as the infallible promise, the immutable oath of God.

Again, the husbandman hath no such increase to look for as you. If he were sure, that every corn would bear a crown, with what joy, rather than patience, would he go through all his cost and labour? Why, brethren, such is a believer’s increase. Every grain shall produce a crown; and every tear shall bring forth a pearl; and every minute in pains or prayers, an age of joy and glory. Beside, the husbandman hath long patience, and will not you have a little patience? It is not long patience that God doth expect of you: for behold the coming of the Lord draweth nigh. Will the garrison yield when relief is at hand? Or the merchant give up his hopes, when within sight of the harbour? Or will the husbandman give up all for lost, when he sees the fields white for harvest? And shall he do more for a crop of corn, than you will do for a crop of glory? Far be it. Behold the Judge is at the door. The Lord is at hand. He cometh quickly, and his reward is with him. He comes with the crown in his hand, to set upon the head of patience. Therefore cast not away your confidence, which hath great recompence of reward. The prisoners of the Lord, your brethren in the patience of Jesus, can tell you, it is good suffering for such a master.

We must tell you, as they said to our Lord in another case, He is worthy for whom you should do this. God is beyond measure gracious to us here. He shines bright into our prison. He waters us from heaven and earth. As we trust, you forget not the poor prisoners, when you pray, so we would that many thanksgivings should abound in our behalf. And prayer being the only key that can open our prisons, we trust you will pray and not faint. Farewell, dear brethren, Fare ye well in the Lord, I am,

An unworthy embassador of Jesus, in bonds,

JOS. ALLEINE.

From the Prison at Ivelchester, October 28, 1663.

LETTER XXIV.

[To his wife.]

My most dear Theodosia,

THOU seemest to have been long from me; let nothing any longer detain thee, but my sister’s necessity, or father’s authority. I am in a comfortable state of health, through divine goodness, to which be glory for ever. See that thou love and admire that fountain of our life, and peace: and be ever mindful that ’tis all thy business to love, and serve, and praise thy Creator and Redeemer. I have no other business but this to write to thee about: but this is all our business. What we use to call business is but vanity and pastime in comparison of this. Remember that ’tis thy one end, to glorify God, and enjoy him for ever. Learn well that lesson, and know, that it is the only thing necessary. Every morning remember that thy serving and pleasing God is the whole business of that day, and therefore set out accordingly with an express design and intention to please God in thy eating, drinking, visiting, conversing, and duties throughout the day. My most dear heart, I have nothing in the world that doth concern thee, or me so much to write of to thee, as this. Oh that thou mayst still be laying up in heaven! Still furthering thy account; still adding to the heap, and increasing thy glorious reward? Nothing is done for God, but thou shalt hear of it again. What is not done for God, is but so much lost. Those things which others do, being led by their natural affections and desires, those things do thou with holy aims, for spiritual ends, and then God will put it on the account, as so much done for him. So it is, my dearest, God keeps a true account. See that thou believe it, and so plough in hope, and sow in hope, pray and hear with an eye to the sure reward. Let thy hopes be strong and lively, and then thy hands will be strong, and thy resolutions and affections will be strong. My time is very precious, and I would not lose an inch of it. See thou to it, that my time in writing this letter be not lost time. Love God the more, and set thy heart the straiter towards him, and practise this one thing, in every action look to thy end, and then I have got well, and thou better by these counsels. My dearest, I love thee in truth and tenderness, but my love signifies little, unless it serve thine eternal good.

I rest thine own,

JOS. ALLEINE.

[To his wife.]

My dear heart,

*MY heart is now a little at rest to write to thee. I have been these three days much disturbed. Strong sollicitations I have had from several hands, to accept very honourable preferment; but I have not found the invitations to suit with the inclinations of my own heart, as I was confident they would not with thine. I have sent away my friends satisfied with the reasons of my refusal, and now can say, Soul, return unto thy rest. But alas, that such things should disturb me! I would live above this lower region, that no passages whatsoever might put me out of frame, or unsettle me from my desired rest. I would have my heart fixed upon God, so as no occurrences might disturb my tranquility, but I might be still in the same quiet and even frame. Well, though I am apt to be unsettled, yet I am like a bird out of the nest, I am never at quiet till I am in my old way of communion with God; like the needle in the compass, that is restless, till it be turned towards the pole.

I can say through grace, with my soul have I desired thee in the night, and with my spirit within me have I sought thee early; my heart is early and late with God, ’tis the business and delight of my life to seek him. But alas, how long shall I spend my days in wishing, when my glorified brethren spend theirs in enjoying? As the poor imprisoned captive sighs under his irons, and can only look through the grate, and long for the liberty which others enjoy: such is my condition. I can only look through the grate of this prison, my flesh; I see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, sitting down in the kingdom of God. But alas, I myself must stand without, longing, praying, waiting, for what they are enjoying. Happy souls! When shall these fetters of mine be knocked off? When shall I be set at liberty from this prison of my body? You are cloathed with glory, when I am cloathed with dust. I dwell in flesh, in a house of clay, when you dwell with God in a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

I must be continually clogged with this cumbersome body, when you have put on incorruption and immortality. What continual molestation am I subject to by reason of this flesh? What pains doth it cost me to keep this earthen vessel from breaking! It must be exercised; and which is worst of all, cherished with time-devouring sleep; so that I live but little of the short time I have allotted me here. But oh blessed souls, you are swallowed up of immortality and life, your race is run, and you have received your crown. How cautious must I be to keep me from dangers! How apt am I to be troubled with the cares and fears of this life, when your souls are taken up with God and Christ, and ’tis your work to be still contemplating, and admiring that love that redeemed you from all this. What pains must I be at to repair the ruinous building of this earthly tabernacle, which when I have done, I am sure will shortly fall about my ears; when you are got far above mortality, and are made equal with the angels. Oh! I groan earnestly to be cloathed upon with my house which is from heaven, being willing rather to be absent from the body and present with the Lord! Oh, when shall I come and appear before him? When shall I receive the purchase of my Saviour, the fruit of my prayers, the harvest of my labours, the end of my faith, the salvation of my soul? Alas, what do I here? This is not my resting place, my treasure is in heaven. Oh when shall I be where my heart is? Wo is me that dwell in the tents of Kedar! Oh that I had wings like a dove, that I might fly away and be at rest! Then would I hasten my escape from the storm and tempest, and be out of the reach of fears, disturbances, and distractions. How long shall I live at such a distance from my God, at such a distance from my country? Alas, how can I sing the Lord’s song in a strange land? No, I will hang my harp upon the willows, and sit down and weep when I remember Sion. But yet my flesh shall rest in hope, and I will daily bathe my soul in the sweet thoughts of my blessed home. I will rejoice in hopes of what I do not yet enjoy, and content myself with the taste of what I shall shortly have my fill of.

The Lord grant the request I daily pour out before him, and make us furtherances to each other’s soul, that we may quicken and promote and forward one another in his ways! Help me by thy prayers, as thou dost always. The God of all peace and comfort be with thee my sweet love! Farewell!

Thine beyond expression,

JOS. ALLEINE.

LETTER XXVI.

[God is a satisfying Portion.]

My most dear friend,

HAD not my right hand long since forgot her cunning, and the Almighty shook the pen out of my hand, I should long e’er this have written to thee; but it is a wonder of divine power and goodness that my soul had not before this time dwelt in silence, and that death had not put the long period to all my writing and converse.

Long is the song of love that I have to tell thee. I rejoice in the constancy of thy love, that the waters of so long a silence, and so great a distance have not yet quenched it. But thy desires are towards me, and thy heart is with me, though providence hath hindered me from thy much-desired company. I will assure thee it hath been a pleasure to my heart a good part of this summer, to hope that I should come one half of the way to give thee a meeting. But such is my weakness hitherto, that I am forced to put off those hopes till the spring, when, if God gives me strength to ride, I intend to see thee before mine own home. I thank thee for all the dear expressions of thy fervent love: my expences have been vast; but surely goodness and mercy hath followed me, and do follow me in every place, and in every change of my condition; so that as to temporals, I have lack of nothing, and as for spirituals I abound and superabound, and the streams of my comforts have been full and running over. The joy of the Lord hath been my strength at the weakest, and in the multitude of my thoughts within me, his comforts have refreshed my soul. I have found God a satisfying portion to me, and have sat under his shadow with full delights, and his fruit is most sweet to my taste: he is my strength ♦and my song, for I will talk of him, and write of him with perpetual pleasure. Through grace I can say, methinks I am now in my element, since I have begun to make mention of him, I am rich in him and happy in him, and my soul saith unto him with David, Thou hast made me most blessed for ever more. Happy is the hour that ever I was born, to be made partaker of so blissful a treasure, so endless a felicity, such angelical a prerogative, as I have in him: O how sweet are his converses, how delightful it is to triumph in his love.

Methinks the story of the lepers comes not unaptly to my mind, who said one to another when they had eat and drunk and carried away silver and gold and raiment, and went and hid it, We do not well; this day is a day of good tidings, and we hold our peace. It is fit that I should be cloathed with shame; I acknowledge before God, who trieth the hearts I am unworthy, everlastingly unworthy. But it is not fit that he should lose his praise; nay rather let him be the more adored, and magnified and admired for ever and ever. Bless the Lord, O my soul, bless the Lord, O my friend; let us exalt his name together. He is my solace in my solitude; he is my standing comforter, my tried friend, my sure refuge, my safe retreat; he is my paradise, he is my heaven; and my heart is at rest in him: and I will sit and sing under his shadow, as a bird among the branches. And whither should I go but unto him? Shall I leave the fatness of the olive, and the sweetness of the fig-tree, and of the vine, and go and put my trust under the shadow of the bramble? No, I have made my everlasting choice: this is my rest for ever, he is my well-beloved, in whom I am well-pleased. Suffer me to boast a little: here I may glory without vanity, and I can praise him without end or measure; but I have nothing to say of myself: I find thou dost over-value me; set the crown upon the head of Christ; let nothing be great with thee but him, give him the glory. God that knoweth all things, knoweth my poverty, how little, how low, and how mean I am, and how short I come of the attainments of the saints, who yet themselves come so exceedingly short of the rule that God hath set before us. I often think of the complaint of the devout Monsieur De Renty [I feel myself very poor this week; and very defective in the love of God; if you would know wherein you can pleasure me, love God more: that what is wanting in me may be made up in the abundance of your love:] in this thou mayest highly pleasure me: love God a little the better, praise him a little the more for my sake; let me have this to please myself in, that God is a little the better loved for me, and that I have blowed up, if it be but one spark of divine love in the bosom of my dearest friend, towards him.

Thy cautions are acceptable to me, I desire to provide for manifold changes and storms. I know I am not yet in the harbour; O pray with me that I may not enter into temptation; for I am very weak in spirit, as well as in body, God knoweth. Somewhere or other I must break off, and thou wilt say, it is time to shut up. For once only know, that I am thy daily orator, and will be whilst I am. And yet once more, I must have room to add my thankful acknowledgment of thine. With our most dear affections to you both, I commend you to the God of love, still abiding,

Thy fast and sure

FRIEND.

Bath, October 12, 1668.

LETTER XXVII.

Dear Cousin,

THE welcome tidings of your safe arrival at Barbadoes is come to my ears; as also the news of your escape from a perilous sickness, for which I bless the Lord. I have considered, that God had bereft you of a careful father, and that your mother takes but little care for you; so that you have none nearer than myself to watch for your soul, and to charge and admonish you in the Lord.

But yet, be not discouraged by these things, but look to heaven, fly unto Jesus, put away every known sin, set upon the conscientious performance of every known duty; make Christ your choice, embrace him upon his own terms; deliver up yourself, body and soul to him: see that you have no reserves nor limitations in your choice of him; give him your very heart; cast away your worldly hopes and expectations, make religion your business.

These things do, and you shall be sure of a friend in heaven; and, if I may be any comfort to you, you shall not fail, while I live, to have one friend on earth to care for you. You are gone far from me, even to the uttermost parts of the earth: but I have sent these letters to call after you; yea, not only to call, but to cry in your ears. O what is like to become of your soul! Where is that immortal soul of yours like to be lodged for ever? Amongst devils or angels? Upon a bed of flames, or in the joys of paradise?

Go aside; retire from the noise of the world, and say to yourself, Oh my soul! Whither art thou going? Do not I know, that I must be converted or condemned? That I must be sanctified, or I can never be saved? Oh my soul! What seekest thou? What is my chief care? Is it for this world, or the world to come? Do I first seek the kingdom of heaven, and the righteousness thereof? Do I think heaven will drop into my mouth? That glory and immortality will be got with a wet finger, with cold prayers, and heartless wishes, while the world has my heart? Do I think to be crowned, and yet never fight? To gain the race and never run? To enter at the strait gate, and never strive? To overcome principalities and powers, and never wrestle? No, no; Oh my soul, either lay by the hopes of heaven for ever, or rouse up thyself, put forth thy strength after God and glory. Either lay by thy worldly hopes, or thy hopes of immortality; away with thy sins, or let Christ go for ever. Think not to have Christ and the world too, to serve God and mammon: if thou follow the world, thou must die: the Lord hath spoken it, and all the world can never reverse it. Thus reason the case with your own soul, and give not rest to thyself night nor day, till you are gotten off from the world, broken off from every known sin, and got safe into Christ.

Dear cousin, I charge you by the Lord, to observe these things. Pray over them, weep over them, read them again and again; do not pass them over as slight and ordinary things. Your soul is at stake; it is your salvation which is concerned in them; think not that I am in jest with you. I travel in birth with you, till Christ be formed in you. Why should you die? Oh repent and live, lay hold on eternal life, win Christ, and you win all. Oh be thankful to the Lord, that now you are fatherless and friendless, yet you have one remembrancer to warn you to flee from the wrath to come. God forbid that I should find you at last in the place of torments, for your not embracing these counsels. To conclude, I charge you as a minister, as a father, take heed of these three things:

1. Lest the gain of the world prove the loss of your soul:

2. Lest company draw you from God:

3. Lest a lofty or a worldly heart should thrust you out of the kingdom of heaven.

Oh labour whatever you do for an humble heart. Be little, be vile in your own eyes; seek not after great things; be poor in spirit: without this, heaven will be no place for you. Your lot is fallen in a place of great wickedness, where your soul is in much danger, where your temptations are many, and your helps for heaven but few: where good examples are rare, and many will entice ♦you to sin and vanity. O! look about you, consider your danger, fear lest you should miscarry for ever. I can but warn you and pray for you: but though you have none to oversee you, remember the eye of God is upon you, to observe all your actions, and that he will surely bring all your practices into judgment. I commend you to the Lord, and remain,

Your loving and careful uncle,

JOS. ALLEINE.

August 19, 1668.

LETTER XXVIII.

Dear friend,

*YOUR letter was exceeding welcome to me, not only as reviving the remembrance of our old friendship, but also, as bringing me news of some spiritual good that you received by me, which is the best tidings that I can receive: For what do I live for, but to be useful to souls in my generation? *I desire no other business than to please and honour my God, and serve my generation in that short allowance of time I have here. Shall I commend to you the lesson that I am about to learn? It is, to be entirely devoted to the Lord, that I may be able to say after the apostle, To me to live is Christ. I would not be serving God only for a day in the week, or an hour or two in the day: but every day, and all the day. I am ambitious to come up to that of our Lord and Master, To do always those things that please God. I plainly see that self-seeking is self-undoing; and that then we promote ourselves best, when we please God most. I find, that when I have done all, if God be not pleased, I have done nothing; and if I can but approve myself to God, my work is done: I reckon I do not live that time I do not live to God.

*I am fain to cut off so many hours from my days, and so many years from my life, as I have lived to myself. I find no enemy so dangerous as myself, and O that others may take warning by my hurt: O that I had lived wholly to God! Then had every day and every hour that I have spent, been found upon my account at that day: then had I been rich indeed, in treasure laid up there, whither I am apace removing; then I had been every day and hour adding to the heap, and increasing the reward which God of his mere grace hath promised, even to the meanest work that is done to him. I perceive I am an eternal loser by acting no more for God; for what is done to myself is lost; but what is done for God, is done for ever, and shall receive an everlasting reward. Verily, if there be a world to come, and an eternal state after this short life, it is our only wisdom to be removing, and, as it were transplanting and transporting what we can, from hence into that country to which we are shortly to be removed, that what we are now doing we may reap the fruit of for ever.

Well, let us be wholly swallowed up in religion, and know no other interest but Jesus Christ. I cannot say, I have already attained; but this is what my heart is set to learn. That in all that I do, whether sacred or civil actions, still I may be doing but one work, and driving on one design, That God may be pleased by me, and glorified in me; That not only my praying, preaching, alms, may be found upon my account; but even my eating, drinking, sleeping, visits, discourses, because they are done to God. Too often do I miss my mark; but I will tell you what are the rules I set myself: Never to lie down but in the name of God; nor barely for natural refreshment, but that a wearied servant of Christ may be recruited and fitted to serve him better the next day. Never to rise up but with this resolution, I will go forth this day in the name of God, and will make religion my business, and spend the day for eternity. Never to enter upon my calling, but first thinking, I will do these things as unto God, because he requireth these things at my hands, in the place and station he hath put me into. Never to sit down to the table, but resolving, I will not eat meerly to please my appetite, but to strengthen myself for my Master’s work. Never to make a visit, but to leave something of God where I go; and in every company to leave some good savor behind. This is that which I am pressing hard after: and if I strive not to walk by these rules, let this paper be a witness against me.

I perceive you are otherwise persuaded in some things than I am: but however, I trust we meet in our end. May it be your whole study to gain souls, and to build them up in holiness, which is with too many the least of their cares. One duty (miserably neglected) I shall be bold to recommend from my own experience, and that is, the visiting your whole flock from house to house, and enquiring into their spiritual estates particularly, and dealing plainly and truly with them about their conversion to God.

You see how free I am with you: but I know your candour. I rejoice in your happy yoke-fellow: salute her from your old friend, and accept of the unfeigned respects of him who is, Sir,

Your real and faithful friend,

JOS. ALLEINE.

LETTER XXIX.

[To a minister in prison.]

Worthy Sir,

IT was but a little after my release from my own confinement, but I heard of yours: and now write to you, as one that hath taken a higher degree than ever, being commenced prisoner of Christ. I was once affected with the picture of a devout man, to whom a voice came down from heaven, saying, Quid vis fieri pro te? To which he answered, Nihil domine, nifi pati ac contemini pro te. Undoubtedly, Sir, it is our real glory to be throughout conformed to Jesus Christ, not only in his sanctity, but in his sufferings. I doubt not your consolations in Christ superabound in all your tribulations for him. Yet let me add this, that you have a whole shoal of promises come in to you, which you had not before; I mean all the promises to suffering saints, in which they have not so immediate a part, unless in a suffering state. And doubtless he hath got well, that hath gotten such a number of exceeding great and precious promises.

I can tell you little good of myself: but this I can tell you, that the promises of God were never so sweet to me, as since my imprisoned state. It shames me that I have let such a treasure lie by so long, and have made so little use of it. Never did my soul know the heaven of a believer’s life, till I learnt to live a life of praise, and to set home the unspeakable riches of the divine promises, to which, through grace, I am made an heir. I verily perceive that all our work were done, if we could but prevail with ourselves and others to live like believers; to tell all the world by our carriage, that there is such pleasantness in Christ’s ways, such beauty in holiness, such reward to obedience, as we profess to believe!

It is but a little while that prisons shall hold us, or that we shall dwell in dirty flesh. Porphyry tells us of Plotinus, that he was ashamed to see himself in the body; to see a divine and immortal soul in a prison of flesh (for so they held the body to be;) but the worst shackles are those of sin. Well, they must shortly fall off; our Lord doth not long intend us for this lower region: surely he is gone to prepare a place for us: yea, and he will come again, and receive us to himself, that where he is, we may be also. And what have we to do, but to believe, and wait, and love, and long, and look out for his coming, in which is all our hope? ’Twill be time enough for us to be preferred then. We know before hand who shall then be uppermost. Our Lord hath shewed us where our places shall be, even at his own right hand; and what he will say to us, Come ye blessed. Surely we shall stand in his judgment: he hath promised to stand our friend: let us look for the joyful day: and sure as there is a God, this day will come, and then it shall go well with us. What if bonds and banishment abide us for a season? This is nothing but what our Lord hath told us, The world shall rejoice, but ye shall lament: ye shall be sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy. Oh how reviving are his words! I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.

If that miserable wretch leapt chearfully off the ladder, saying, I shall be a queen in hell: with what joy should we do and suffer for God, knowing that we shall be crowned in heaven? They are wonderful preparations that are making for us: the Lord make us meet to be partakers. *It was the highest commendation that ever that worthy R. Baxter received, which fell from his scoffing adversary Tilenus, Totum, puritanismum totus spirat. Oh that this may be true of us and ours!

Let your true yoke-fellow, and my Christian friends with you, have my hearty commendation: and these counsels I pray you give them from me.

1. To habituate themselves, both as to their thoughts and discourses, more throughly than ever to holiness. Brethren, I would teach you the lesson that I resolve to learn, that your minds and tongues may as naturally run upon the things of heaven, as others on the things of this world. Why should it not be thus? I am sure God and heaven as well deserve to be thought on, and talked of as froth and vanity. There are many that have in a great measure learnt this lesson, and why should not we? What if it be hard at first? Every thing is so to a beginner. And is not ours a religion of self-denial? If we do but force ourselves awhile to holy thoughts, and heavenly discourse, it will grow habitual to us, and then it will be most natural, familiar, and sweet. O what gainers will you be, if you learn this lesson?

’Tis the shame of religion, that Christians are so unlike themselves, unless upon their knees. Our lives and language should tell the world what we are, and whither we are going. Christians, let little things content you in the world, but aspire after great things in the grace of God. Many little think what high degrees of holiness they may grow up to even in this life with pains and diligence. Sirs, be you men of great designs: think it not enough if you have wherewith to bear your charges to heaven; but aspire to be great in the court of heaven, favourites of the Most High, of tall growth, singular communion, that you may burn and shine in your place, that you may savour of heaven wherever you come, and that there may be an even-spun thread of holiness running through your whole course. ’Tis our disgrace, that there is so little difference to be seen in the ordinary conversation of believers and other men. Is it not a shame, that when we are in company with others, this should be all the difference that is to be seen, that we will not curse and swear? If you will honour the gospel, bring forth your religion out of your closets into your shops, trades, visits, and exemplify the rules of religion in the management of all your relations, and in your ordinary converse. Let there be no place or company that you come into, in which you do not drop something of God; this will be the glory of religion, and we shall never convince the world ’till we come to this. May you come, my brethren, out of your prisons with your faces shining, having your minds seasoned, and your tongues tipt with holiness! May your mouths be as a well of life, from whence may flow the holy streams of edifying discourse! May you ever remember, as you are sitting in your houses, going by the way, lying down, rising up, what the Lord doth then require of you.

2. To improve their present retirements from the world, for the settling their spiritual estates. ’Tis a common complaint amongst Christians, that they want assurance. Oh, if any of you that wanted assurance when you came to prison, may carry that blessing out, what happy gainers would you be? Now you are called more than ever to self-searching. Now bring your graces to the touchstone. Be much in self observation. Rest not in probable hopes. Think not that it is enough that you can say, you hope ’tis well. Be restless till you can say, that you know ’tis well; that you know you are passed from death to life.

*Think not that this is a privilege that only a few may expect. Observe but these three things:

1. To take heed of laying the marks of salvation either too high or too low;

2. To be much in observing the frame, and bent, and workings of your own heart:

3. To be universally conscientious, and to be constant in even and close walking, and then I doubt not but you will have a settled assurance, and know and feel that peace of God that passeth all understanding.

I wish your prison may be a paradise of peace, and a Patmos of divine discoveries, Lord Jesus set to thy Amen. I am, Sir,

Your unworthy brother and companion in the kingdom and patience of Jesus,

JOS. ALLEINE.

January 10, 1664.

LETTER XXX.

To the most beloved people, the servants of God in Taunton, salvation.

Most dearly beloved and longed for, my joy and crown.

MY heart’s desire and prayer for you is, that you may be saved. This is that which I have been praying and studying, and preaching for these many years: and this is the end of my suffering, and writing at this present time. I seek not other gifts, give me your hearts, let me but part between your sins and you: suffer me but to save you; give me leave to carry you over to Jesus Christ, and I will not ask you any more. I will serve you gladly, I will suffer for you thankfully, so I may but save you. Do not wonder why I follow you so pressingly, why I call upon you so frequently; let not my importunity be grievous to you, all this is but to save you. Christ did not think his blood, and shall I think my breath too dear in order to your salvation; what pity is it, that any of you should miscarry at last, under the power of ignorance, or by a profane negligence, or a formal and lifeless profession of strict godliness?

Beloved, I am afraid of you, lest (as to many of you) I have run in vain. I cannot but thankfully acknowledge, that there are not a few of you who are the joy of your ministers, and the glory of Christ. But it cannot be dissembled, that far the greater number give little ground to hope, they are in the state of salvation. And must not this be a pinching thought to a compassionate teacher, that he cannot persuade men, but that the most of them will wilfully throw away themselves? Is it not a woeful sight, to behold the devils driving a great part of our miserable flocks, (as they did once the herd of swine) violently down the hill, till they be choaked in the water, drowned in the gulph of endless perdition? Ah miserable spectacle! What through the wilful blindness of some, the looseness and sensuality of others, the halving, and cold, and customary religion of others, how great a number of our poor flocks, is Satan like to carry utterly away from us, after all that hath been done to save him?

Yet I cannot but call after them. Hearken unto me, O ye children. How long will ye love vanity, and trust in lying words? As the Lord liveth, you are lost, except you turn: wherefore turn yourselves and live ye. Ah how mercy wooeth you! How it waiteth to be gracious? Hear, O sinners, hear. See you not how the merciful Saviour of the world stretcheth forth his hands all the day long, and spreadeth forth his wings, and calleth you as a hen doth her chickens! Hear you not the sounding of his bowels? He hath no need of you: Yet how do his compassions melt over perishing sinners? His heart is turned within him, and shall not this turn your hearts? His repentings are kindled together, and shall not this lead you to repentance? Behold, he standeth at the door and knocketh. O man, wilt thou keep Jesus at the door, and lodge Barabbas in thy bosom? Oh his melting love to sinners! He calleth after them, he weepeth over them, he crieth to them. How long, ye simple ones, will you love simplicity? Will you not be made clean? When shall it once be? Why will you die? Turn you at my reproof: behold, I will pour out my spirit upon you. Sinner, art thou not yet melted? Oh come in at his loving calls. Come out from thy sins: touch the scepter of grace and live: Why shouldst thou be dashed in pieces by his iron rod? Kiss the Son: Why shouldst thou perish in the way? Set up Jesus as thy king, lest he count thee for his enemy, because thou would not that he should reign over thee, and so thou be called forth and slain before him. Oh how dreadful will this case be, to die by the hand of a Saviour! Oh double hell, to have thy Redeemer become thy executioner! And the hand that was so long stretched forth to save thee, to be now stretched forth to slay thee! And the merciful heart of Christ himself hardened against thee, so that he should call thee forth, and hew thee in pieces, as Samuel did Agag before the Lord.

*Beloved, I despair of ever bringing you to salvation, without sanctification: or possessing you with happiness without persuading you to holiness. God knows I have not the least hope ever to see one of your faces in heaven, except you be sanctified, and exercise yourselves unto godliness. This is that I drive at, I beseech you study to further personal godliness, and family godliness.

*1. Personal godliness. Let it be your first care to set up Christ in your hearts. See that you make all your worldly interests stoop to him, that you be entirely and unreservedly devoted to him. If you deliberately and ordinarily harbour any sin, you are undone. See that you unfeignedly take the laws of Christ, as the rule of your words, thoughts and actions; and subject your whole man, faithfully to him. If you have a true respect unto all God’s commandments, you are sound at heart. O study to get the image and impress of Christ upon you within. Begin with your hearts, else you build without a foundation. Labour to get a saving change within, or else all external performances will be to no purpose. And then study to shew forth the power of godliness in your life. Let piety be your business. ’Tis the highest point of justice, to give God his due. Beware that none of you be a prayerless person: for that is a certain discovery of a Christless, and a graceless person. Suffer not your bibles to gather dust. See that you converse daily with the word. That man can never lay claim to blessedness, whose delight is not in the law of the Lord. Let meditation and self-examination be your daily exercise, else the Papists, yea the Pagans will condemn us. If ever you come to any growth in holiness, without the constant use of this practice, I am grossly deceived. And therefore I beseech, yea even charge you by the Lord, that you would daily examine yourselves.

But piety without charity is but the half of Christianity, or rather impious hypocrisy. See therefore that you do justly, and love mercy, and let equity, and charity run like an even thread, through all your dealings. Be you temperate in all things, and let chastity and sobriety be your undivided companions. Let truth and purity, seriousness and modesty, heavenliness and gravity, be the constant ornaments of your speech. Let patience and humility, simplicity and sincerity shine in all parts of your conversation. See that you forget and forgive wrongs, and requite them with kindness. Be merciful in your censures, and put the most favourable construction upon your brethren’s carriage. Be slow in promising, punctual in fulfilling. Let meekness, innocency, affableness, yieldingness, and courtesy, commend your conversation to all men. Let none of your relations want that love and loyalty, that reverence and duty, that tenderness, care, and vigilancy, which their several places and capacities call for. This is true godliness. I charge you before the most high God, that none of you be found a swearer, or a liar, a lover of evil company, or a scoffer, or malicious, or covetous, or a drunkard, or a glutton, unrighteous in his dealing, unclean in his living, or a quarreller, or a thief, or backbiter, or a railer: for I denounce unto you from the living God, that damnation is the end of all such.

2. Family godliness. He that hath set up Christ in his heart, will be sure to study to set him up in his house. Let every family with you be a Christian church; every house a house of prayer; every houshold a houshold of faith. Let every housholder say, with Joshua, I, with my house, will serve the Lord, and with David, I will walk within my house with a perfect heart.

First, Let religion be in your families, not as a matter by the by, but the standing business of the house. Let them have your prayers as duly as their meals. Is there any of your families, but have time for their taking food? *Wretched man! Canst thou find time to eat, and not time to pray?

*Secondly, Settle it upon your hearts, that your souls are bound up in the souls of your family. They are committed to you, and (if they be lost through your neglect) will be required at your hands: Sirs, if you do not, you shall know that the charge of souls is a heavy charge, and that the blood of souls is a heavy guilt. O man, hast thou a charge of souls to answer for, and dost thou not yet bestir thyself for them, that their blood may not be found in thy skirts? Wilt thou do no more for immortal souls, than thou wilt do for the beasts that perish? What dost thou do for thy children, and servants? Thou providest meat and drink for them, and dost thou not the same for thy beasts? Thou givest them medicines, and cherishest them when they are sick, and dost thou not so much for thy swine? More particularly.

1. Let the solemn reading of the word, and singing of psalms, be your family exercises. See Christ singing with his family, his disciples, Matthew xxvi. 30. Luke ix. 18.

2. Let every person in your family be duly called to an account of their profiting by the word heard or read, as they are about doing your own business. This is a duty of consequence unspeakable, and would be a means to bring those under your charge to remember and profit by what they receive.

3. Often take account of the souls under your care, concerning their spiritual estates. Make enquiry into their conditions, insist much upon the sinfulness and misery of their natural estate, and upon the necessity of regeneration, in order to their salvation. Admonish them gravely of their sins; encourage beginnings. Follow them earnestly, and let them have no quiet for you, till you see in them a saving change. This is a duty of high consequence, but fearfully neglected by some. Doth not conscience say, Thou art the man?

4. Look to the strict sanctifying of the sabbath by all of your housholds. Many poor families have little time else. O improve but your sabbath days as diligently in doing your Maker’s work, as you do the other days in doing your own work, and I doubt not but you may come to some proficiency.

5. Let the morning and evening sacrifice of solemn prayer, be daily offered up in all your families. Beware they be not found among the families that call not upon God’s name; for why should there be wrath from the Lord upon your families? O miserable families without God in the world, that are without family prayer! What have you so many family sins, family wants, family miseries; what, and yet no family prayers? How do you pray with all prayer and supplication if you do not with family prayer? Say not I have no time. What hast thou all thy time on purpose to serve God and save thy soul, and is this that for which thou can’st find no time? Pinch out of your meals and sleep, rather than want for prayer. *Say not, my business will not give leave. This is thy greatest business, to save thyself, and the souls committed to thee. In a word, the blessing of all is to be got by prayer. And what is thy business without God’s blessing? Say not, I am not able. Use thy one talent, and God will increase it. Helps are to be had till thou art better able.

*6. Put every one in your families upon private prayer. Observe whether any perform it. Get them the help of a form, if they need it, till they are able to go without. Direct them how to pray, by minding them of their sins, wants, and mercies, the materials of prayer.

7. Set up catechizing in your families, at least once every week. It was my parting, dying request, that you would set up and maintain this duty in your families. Have you all done it accordingly? Cannot your confidences witness, cannot your families witness you have not? Well, I thought my parting words would have done something with you: I hoped the fervent request of a dying minister, would have prevailed for such a small matter with you. To this day are you without solemn catechizing in your houses! Ah, what a discouragement to your teacher is this? Brethren shall I yet prevail with you? Will you reject me also? O let me persuade you before you take off your eyes from these lines, to resolve to set upon the constant exercise of this duty. Surely I have done and suffered more for you than this comes to: Will you deny me? I beseech you, let me find, if ever God brings me again to visit your houses, that the words of a suffering minister have some power with you. I have sent you help on purpose: What shall all my persuasions be but speaking to the wind? Beloved, have you no dread of the Almighty’s charge, that you should teach these things diligently to your children, and talk of them as you sit in your houses, and train them up in the way they should go? Hath God so commanded Abraham, that he would teach his children and his houshold, Genesis xviii. 19. and given such a promise to him thereupon, and will not you put in for a share of either in the praise or the promise? Say not, they are careless and will not learn. What have you your authority for, if not to use it for God, and the good of their souls? You will call them up, and force them to do their work; and should you not at least be as zealous in putting them upon God’s work? Say not, they are dull and not capable. If they be dull, God requires of you the more pains and patience; but dull as they are, you will make them learn how to work; and can they not learn how to live? Are they capable of the mysteries of your trade, and are they not capable of the plain principles of religion? Well, as ever you would see the growth of religion, the cure of ignorance, the remedy of profaneness, the downfal of error, fulfil ye my joy with going through with this duty.

I have been long and yet I am afraid my letter will be ended before my work is done: how loath am I to leave you, before I have prevailed with you to set to this work? Will you pass your promise, will you give me your hands? Oh that you would? You cannot do me a greater pleasure. Beloved, why should you not give the hand one to another, and mutually engage to each other, for more vigorous and diligent endeavours, in promoting family godliness? I must tell you, God looks for more than ordinary from you, in such a day as this. He expects that you should do both in your hearts and in your houses, somewhat more than ever, under these extraordinary dispensations. My most dearly beloved, mine own bowels in the Lord, will you satisfy the longings of a travelling minister? will you answer the calls of divine providence? Would you that your children should bless you? Oh, then set up piety in your families. As ever you would be blessed or be a blessing, let your heart, and your houses be the temples of the living God, in which his worship (according to the fore-mentioned directions) may be with constancy reverently performed.

O FATHER of Spirits, that hast set me over thy flock to watch for their souls as one that must give account: I have long studied thy will, and taught in thy name, and do unfeignedly bless thee, that any have believed my report. I have given unto them the words which thou gavest me, and they have received them. I have manifested thy name unto them, and they have kept thy word. And now I am no more with them, but I come unto thee! Holy Father, keep them through thine own name; for they are thine. As they have kept the word of thy patience, so keep thou them in the hour of temptation. They are but a little and helpless flock: but thou art their shepherd, suffer them not to want. Do thou feed them, and fold them. Let thy rod and thy staff comfort them, and let not the beasts of prey fall upon them, to the spoiling of their souls.

But what shall I do for them that will not be gathered? I have called after them, but they would not answer; I have charged them in thy name, but they would not hear; I have studied to speak persuasively to them, but I cannot prevail. Then I said, I have laboured in vain; I have spent my strength for nought, yet I cannot give them over, much less may I give thee over. Lord, persuade Japhet to dwell in the tents of Shem. Lord compel them to come in, and lay thy hands of mercy upon them, as thou didst on lingering Lot, and bring them forth, that they may escape for their lives, and not be consumed. Lord, I pray thee open their eyes that they may see, and lay hold upon their hearts by thy omnipotent grace. Do thou turn them, and they shall be turned: O bring back the miserable captives, and suffer not the enemy of mankind to drive a way the most of the flock before mine eyes, and to deride the fruitless endeavours of thy labourers, and boast over them, that he can do more with them, though he seek to ruin them, than all the beseechings, counsels, and charges of thy servants, that seek to save them. Lord, if I could find out any thing that would pierce them, that would make its way into their hearts, thou knowest I would use it. But I have been many years pleading thy cause in vain. O let not these endeavours also be lost. O God, find out every ignorant, every profane sinner, every prayerless soul, and every prayerless family, and convince them of their miserable condition while without thee in the world. Set thy image up in their souls, set up thy worship in their families. Let not pride, ignorance, or sloth keep them in neglect of the means of knowledge. Let thine eyes be over the place of my desires for good, from one end of the year to the other end thereof. Let every house therein be a seminary of religion, and let those that cast their eyes upon these lines, find thee sliding in by the secret influence of thy grace into their hearts, and engaging them to do thy pleasure. Amen. Amen.

JOS. ALLEINE.

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