We resume our extracts from Mr. Caughey's record of his mental exercises, and of the work of God in Huddersfield. It contains some very interesting incidents, and some affecting meditations.
Jan 27, Monday morning. -- Return unto thy rest, O my soul! Thy place is in the dust. Humility becomes thee. Thou hast nothing whereof to boast -- nothing upon which to look with complacency. Aside from Christ, what is there in the full sum of all thy sayings and doings to recommend thee to God, or upon which thou couldst rely for a single moment? O, with what tremendous arguments mayest thou enforce humility on thyself! But this need not hinder thee from praising God. A high day yesterday in Zion; scores of sinners saved.
Jan. 29. -- A solemn letter from a friend in Hull, who says:
"Two of your spiritual children, sailors, have gone to heaven; they were drowned in the sad shipwreck of which you have read. Thirteen women were left widows by the catastrophe. Many others who were seals to your ministry have ascended.
"A ship has lately returned to port with one who was converted under your ministry abroad, -- the young sailor who was awakened, you may remember, the night you described so terribly a sea-scene. He mentally exclaimed: 'It was just so; that is for me; he means me!' and soon cried for mercy, and found it. He went to sea, and found himself a lamb among wolves, and they worried him to death, spiritual death, -- calling him 'the Caughey convert,' till he lost his hold on Christ. Another young sailor was his chief persecutor, and the cause of all his troubles. After a long voyage the ship returned to this port, a few days since. Alas for the persecutor! he was taken almost immediately with the small-pox, and died miserably. The incident has been sanctified to your young friend; he is now seeking the Lord with all his heart.
"The poor 'backslider,' whose character you pictured so vividly when last here, died last week, and was buried on Saturday. You said: 'There sits one in this congregation who is hardening his heart, and resisting the Holy Ghost.' You then described his history and character fearfully, and that it was impressed upon your mind that he would die soon; but that before he died he would acknowledge all this, -- even on his death-bed. He did, indeed, acknowledge all, and died. I cannot speak as to the safety. Strange that such instances of divine interposition do not convince men. As many as thirty of your spiritual children have fallen asleep in Jesus since you left us. Very remarkable.
Yours, very truly, "William Field."
The work of restitution is going on. One of our friends received the following note:
"Dear Mrs. D.:
I send you the enclosed 1 pound to repay you for what I stole from you a number of years since. Forgive me. Pray that I may be honest with God and man. It made me uneasy this long time. I
concluded to restore it, when listening to Mr. Caughey's preaching. The Lord bless you and yours, prays one who is unworthy of God's mercies."
Today I received the following letter from a good man in Leeds:
"Dear Sir: In the month of August, previous to your last visit to Leeds, I was sick in the Leeds Hospital, and an unconverted sinner. As I lay delirious of typhus fever, I dreamt that a stranger from a far country stood before me. He was in the act of preaching salvation to poor sinners, urging me and all of us to flee from the wrath to come, and warned us against false prophets that would come -- yea, and had already come.
"He approached me and asked if I was willing to be saved. I said I was. Then, laying his hand upon my shoulder, he said: 'Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.' Instantly I saw Jesus Christ upon the cross, between the two thieves. He was bleeding. I saw his five wounds plain to my eye as ever the Roman soldiers who crucified him did.
"I asked, 'What is to become of my wife and child?' The stranger replied, 'They shall be saved, too.'
"I recovered, and told my wife my vision; but she treated it as dreams are treated; but soon after our child died. Thus was one saved out of the three.
"Well, sir, on the Sabbath night you preached at Oxford-place Chapel, my wife was there, got awakened, and converted to God. Home she came, a new woman, with the news about a strange minister who had arrived in town; telling me of the cries for mercy among sinners stricken down by the word of God. Two out of the three were now saved, -- one in heaven, the other on earth.
"My soul was seized with a strange emotion. I said, 'I'll go and hear him, too.' I went; but the moment I saw you in the pulpit, I exclaimed, 'That is the very man I saw in my dream in the hospital.' True as eternity, sir, is what I am telling you. The sermon troubled me. After sermon, you came down and made your way through the crowd, and came to me and paused, and laid your hand upon my shoulder, -- you did, sir, -- just where I felt it in my hospital dream. I left the chapel; but heard you again and again; seeing nothing before me but eternity, with its blackness of darkness.
"Well, sir, one night, in prayer at my house, when I was pleading for mercy, light sprang up in my heart bright as noonday; but I did not understand it. The following Sabbath I was freely justified by faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.
"Now, the three were saved; and my wife and self are on our way to heaven. I hope, sir, you will see in these things tokens of the providence of God. We have one favor to ask, -- a copy of those lines you repeated from a German poet; and tell us how the work is advancing in Huddersfield; -- and yet another favor, that you will visit us in Leeds before you leave England. J. S."
I know not how to account for the above on any other principle than as a divine interposition. I have only inserted his initials; but he gave me his name in full, and place of residence.
January 29. -- A great infidel struck under conviction the other night; but made out to totter to his lodgings very miserable. But, finding no rest, he ventured back, and at length cried for mercy, wrestling Jacob-like till he found it, and a changed nature within. He has written a long letter to my friend Dr. Booth, giving an account of the matter, thus:
"My name is T. S., thirty-three years of age, a native of Yorkshire: was a Roman Catholic till fifteen years of age; but soon after became a Deist, and well-read, too, in the works of Voltaire, Paine, etc. I left my wife in Nottingham last October, with oaths and curses, more like a devil than a man. In November I was prostrated by sickness, and was brought to the brink of the grave, but was fearless of death. I recovered. Walking down street, saw a placard on the wall, announcing Rev. Mr. Caughey to preach. 'Money again!' I exclaimed to one by my side. 'I tell you it is money they are after. They must be hard up, to get this man all the way from America to get a full house, theater-like, for money. It is all priestcraft.' Sabbath came; took tea with a friend at Newtown, to kill time. But conversation fell short; so talked of this Mr. C______. Asked my friend to go and hear him; would have asked him to a public house, but, as he had taken the pledge lately, thought I would not tempt him. We came to Queen Street Chapel, and sat in the furthest part of the gallery, -a bad place for hearing. Mr. C______ introduced the question: 'Is man immortal, or is he not?' I did not believe it. But he introduced the testimony of Cicero. I instantly listened to what the Roman senator could say on the subject, when these words pealed in my ears: 'if I am wrong in supposing that the souls of men are immortal, I please myself in my mistake. Nor while I live will I ever choose that this opinion, with which I am so delighted, should be wrested from me. But, if at death I am to be annihilated, as some minute philosophers suppose, I am not afraid those wise men, when extinct too, shall laugh at my mistake. When I consider the wonderful activity of the mind, its great memory of the past, its vast capacity of penetrating the future, -- when I behold such a multitude of discoveries thence arising, -- I believe, and I am firmly persuaded, that a nature which contains so many things within itself cannot be mortal.' The preacher then appealed to us Englishmen, with the Bible in our hands, doubting the immortality of the soul, when Cicero, without any Bible, came to such just and clear convictions on the subject. His appeals marched into me, and knocked Tom Paine out of me. To clench the nail, he shouted, 'Where is that Infidel? I know he denies the immortality of the soul, -- and he is here.' He then went on to describe me. My head dropped; I said, 'That's me.' The tears gushed from my eyes. The preacher even went on to detail my late attack of sickness. That God had raised me up from the margin of the grave and why? That I might hear the stranger and repent, believe and be saved! Yes, I have been sick indeed; and here I am out of hell. The sermon closed; I desired to stay for prayer meeting, but my companion said 'No.' So, failing in courage, we left when they were singing. During three days thoughts on the immortality of the soul were ever present, -- could not disengage my mind from them. On Wednesday I nearly yielded to resolve to venture to hear him again; but decided not, and spent the evening in reading a newspaper. Next morning, too late for work; employer out of humor. It was well; it was the means of my salvation. Read the Bible; resolved upon hearing Mr. C______. Started for meeting, planning in my mind to sit near the door, so as to make my exit soon as sermon was over. But, on entering, was led on and on, till right in front of the communion-rail I found a seat. The text was on Satan's devices. -- 2 Cor. 2:11. After sermon, I said to myself, 'Go away! -- have served the devil long enough; led by him into all manner of wickedness. However, let me pause, and see results.' A few women only went forward for prayer. 'Go away,' something seemed to say. But I could not; a strong power rested on me, -- held on to me, till Mr. C______ passed by me, when I trembled, and my knees smote together. I shook as with an ague-fit; cheeks wet; tears flowed; my sins, a burden, oppressed my soul; felt my legs would not bear me out of the chapel; thought I might be able to reach the altar; tried; found myself there on knees, but prayerless. One said, 'Cry to God; say, God be merciful to me a sinner! Lord have mercy on me.' I replied, 'What! I pray? I, who have scoffed at religion, and persecuted its teachers! I! a play-actor, -- an Infidel of the vilest kind! -- I pray!' But I did pray, compelled from a feeling within and yet, to my apprehension, without any feeling. But I did believe then and there Jesus died for ALL, and he can save me, -- even me, who once called him 'The carpenter's son!' -- me, the vile wretch, who has ridiculed the Saviour in many companies, -- defaming his character. His blood was now my plea; his atoning, cleansing blood, so often despised. I believed, wrestled on in mighty prayer; but neither pardon nor love to God visited my heart. At length they began to sing something like this:
'He will save you; He will save you, He will save you just now! I believe it, I believe it, I believe it just now! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! I believe it just now!'
I saw, by faith, my Lord Jesus Christ seated upon his throne; felt he was reconciled to me, -- had pardoned me. The load was all gone off my mind, off my heart; taken off just then, quite away! I shouted, Glory! glory! -- hallelujah! Praise ye the Lord!' My tongue was unloosed to tell what a great sinner I had been, and what a great Saviour I had found. Went to my lodgings, knelt in prayer; went to bed; could not sleep for joy and gladness. Arose for prayer and praise in the night, and again at five in the morning still feeling perfectly happy. Told my companions what the Lord had done for me. They said nothing, nor do they persecute. Explained to them what a slave of the devil I had been, which they knew very well. Declared I would now be a valiant soldier of Jesus Christ."
Dr. Booth, our beloved physician, who sent me this letter, exclaims at the bottom, "Glory be to God! Is not this another brand plucked from the fire of hell?" To which my soul replies, Yea! Amen. Praise the Lord!
But how curious that one pagan idea should weigh more with some men than a hundred declarations of the Bible! Well, we must take sinful men as we find them, and find out "the joints of the harness," where they may be pierced!
David picked up the smooth stone out of a babbling brook, that slew Goliath. "Breakers ahead, sir!" once gave me a soul! It was a cry from the pulpit; it entered a sinners ears, swept over his conscience. There was no rest for that sinner till he found mercy; till the hand of Jesus reached him, as it did sinking Peter. He is now preaching the Gospel, I believe, or preparing to do so.
The Holy Ghost has many arrows in his quiver. Cicero's arrow, shot at "the minute philosophers," pierced an English infidel two thousand years afterwards. These are words which never die, but have a sort of vitality about them which is imperishable.
Well, Ahab was not the last man who was wounded between the joints of the harness by a bow drawn at a venture. Besides, the soul sometimes outgrows its infidel panoply, and renders itself assailable. Nor was Achilles the only hero invulnerable in every part except his heel; -- a classic fable, but it has a moral. His mother, while dipping him in the river Styx when an infant, held him by the heel; that part was not dipped; there he was vulnerable, -- he might be wounded mortally there.
The devil dips his children in the Styx of infidelity, to render them proof against the arrows of the Gospel; but, in doing so, he must hold on to them by some part, like the mother of Achilles, -- and that cannot be dipped conveniently; there they are assailable. Satan's hold upon this Huddersfield infidel was a denial of the soul's immortality; there the arrow of Cicero pierced him.
Belshazzar was a cheerful sinner on the night of the great feast, till a hand wrote something on the wall that spoiled his wine and his wit, "and put an end to his mirth and his monarchy together." The hand of conscience wrote something on the walls of T. S_____'s soul, which put an end to his jollity and his infidelity together.
Another private note lies before me, telling of a sudden death close by, within a few days. The man, notoriously wicked, snatched away by death, almost within hearing of our shouts of victory through the blood of the Lamb. He had scoffed at the people on his way to the meetings. But, when seized by death, their prayers were the boon he craved. Those around his death-bed gave little encouragement to praying people, and chilled them. The closing scene was terrifying. He assailed those wicked persons who waited to see his end; painted their characters in horrible colors, and ordered his wife to put them all away, for their presence tormented him, and to burn the gaming-cards which were in the house, and to lead a new life. His shrieks roused the neighbors from their beds; and, putting himself into an attitude to fight a duel with the devil himself, he instantly expired. It seems he was a fine-looking man, and appeared full of strength; but his hour had come.
I received the following letter, the other day:
"Huddersfield, Jan. 22, 1845
"Dear Brother Caughey: The following instance of the power of God to save came under my own observation. It occurred lately under your ministry, and may serve to cheer your heart, as a proof, among many, that your Master is with you.
"On the 9th instant I went to Manchester, where I met an old companion in sin. We had both served Satan together in the time of my impiety. 'Well, Jem, how are you?' was his first salute. 'Bless God, very happy!' was my reply. He looked surprised. I added, 'Andrew, souls are being saved in Huddersfield; ay, scores and hundreds, praise the Lord!' 'Indeed!' 'Yes, glory be to God! and if you will come and hear for yourself, you, also, may be a happy man.' 'Is everybody saved who hears that preacher?' 'No; only those who will it.' I pressed him to come over and stop at my house. 'I'll come,' said Andrew, 'on Saturday, 18th instant.' We parted; and on the 18th Andrew arrived, late. I had been crying to God for him much. I introduced the subject of religion. But Andrew cut the matter short by saying, 'I must be honest with you; I am an infidel in my views.' My heart sunk within me; but, having confidence in God, I pressed my plea for the Bible till one o'clock in the morning. Next morning, being Sabbath, had a few friends at my house, when the subject was renewed with Andrew, till it was time to go to meeting. We left him in the hand of God, and took our places in the chapel.
Well, sir, you announced your text, and took up the thread of conversation just where we had dropped it. The word came with power, and with the Holy Ghost, and much assurance. Andrew actually trembled under it. After we returned, I said, 'Andrew, how did you like the sermon?' He replied, with indifference, 'O, very well.' 'Well, but what did you think of his taking up our conversation precisely where we had left off?' 'Think! why, that you had told him everything, or somebody did.' I declared to him that not one of us had had any communication with Mr. C______, or any one else, upon the subject; but that I thought you were directed by the Lord. 'It is odd; and the preacher looked straight at me,' rejoined Andrew.
"The crowd was great at night, two thousand people being present. I had strong faith for Andrew, although he was still hard. After sermon, I found him among the penitents, groaning, sobbing crying for mercy, -- which he found, to his exceeding joy.
Next morning he was out at the six-o'clock prayermeeting, beseeching God to keep him faithful until death. When giving an account of his conversion, he said, 'As I listened to the forenoon discourse, the feelings of a little child came over me. Presently it was as if I had been seized by the hand of a giant, shaking me violently by the collar.' I now saw why he shook and trembled so. 'I feared observation,' he continued, 'and would have gladly escaped from the chapel. I attended a select meeting before sermon. Mr. C. had us all kneel. After giving us some instruction on the nature of repentance and faith in Christ, and prayer, he urged us to promise God, there and then, that when sermon was over we would go forward for prayer. This I did not like and mentally refused Mr. C. exclaimed, "What means that man who draws back? Can you justify it? Shall you be able to do so when in eternity?" Then he plead with God for the man which I knew to be myself. He plead till I was broken down and mentally yielded the point, when I secretly promised God. The matter being now settled, my way was plain. Heard the sermon, kept my promise, and found Jesus Christ the Son of God to be my Saviour indeed.'
"And now, dear sir, may God give you countless multitudes of such seals to your ministry, is the daily prayer of your sincerely attached brother in Christ,
James Dyson."
Jan. 30. -- Lights dull last night -- gloomy chapel; want of judgment at the gasometer, I suppose. When the Mills stop, at eight o'clock, the gas is reduced accordingly, which is well enough if done moderately, which they have failed in during several nights; -- like some preachers we have known, who were so afraid of what they called wild-fire, they kept reducing it and putting it down, till they had no fire at all, tame nor wild, and the spiritual thermometer at zero. So fearful of the effects of a few Glorys, Hallelujahs and Amens, as to gradually decrease and thin them out, till, as Mother Unwin used to say, there was not a "chirp," and the place of worship silent and gloomy as a sepulchre!
However, a badly-lighted church has an ill effect upon a congregation; it renders the people stupid and gloomy-looking, and really so in their feelings! It discourages the preacher also, weakens faith, and renders success doubtful. It should not be so, but it is so; and constituted as we are it is difficult to avoid its being so, so much are we liable to be affected by circumstances.
Xenophon tells us that the city of Larissa was captured during the consternation caused by an eclipse of the sun. The people thought the world was coming to an end, or that the gods were displeased, and so reasoned it was no use to hold out, or fight, as courage was useless under the frowns of the deities. So the city was taken, because no one had a heart any longer to defend it.
Ah me! if twinkling lights and a gloomy house do not create consternation, they do stupefaction -- remind of bedtime -- make it seem later than it is; if no fears about the world's coming to an end just yet, a fear that the sermon is going to be "a long-spun" becomes rife if the preacher does not happen to be lively; -- that by the time the sermon is ended, the meeting should end.
A gloomy atmosphere, besides, is kindred to UNBELIEF, and then evil reasoning comes in; -- to some it seems as if God is absent from the place. "God is light," is a New Testament axiom; it seems an instinct of our common nature so to think of God. Plato said, "LIGHT is the shadow of God; and God is the light of light itself." But darkness; what is it? "A privation of light," say the philosophers, which leaves us wise as we were before. But it reminds timid Christians of the "prince of darkness;" and, forgetting that it is said in the Scriptures that darkness and light are both alike to God, -- that he can see, or hear, or bless, in the dark as well as in the light, -- the idea of divine absence takes possession, and it is hard to be dispossessed.
How often, when leading our spiritual troops to charge the enemy, have I been made to realize this, however unreasonable it may appear! The strange vacancy and dullness, with lights twinkling amid the gloom, construed into the presence of Satanic influence; and who shall be positive Satan never takes advantage of such a state of things? "We are not ignorant of his devices lest Satan should get an advantage of us," says St. Paul. The meeting is captured by these unhappy impressions; or, if some victory is gained, as last night, it is after a hard fight with unbelief Morpheus, and the Devil!
Give me a church brilliantly lighted, if success is to be the order of the night. We are creatures of feeling and sensibility, and are influenced by such things in spite of us. A gloomy or chilly house, an unwelcome current of air, a creaking door or a window rattling in the wind, I have known to put preacher and people "all off the poise within," eventuating in a hard and unprofitable time. They are sure to lessen the congregation; sinners, especially, are not fond of frequenting such an uninviting place. I have known some preachers to laugh at such trifles, and to take no small credit to themselves for being superior to them, but a trifle more knowledge of human nature, and closer observation, would render them more serious matters than they are aware. Look at public saloons in cities and villages, -- how brilliantly lighted and inviting they are and how crowded!
"The children of this world, are in their generation wiser than the children of light." -- Luke 15:8 "Let your LIGHT so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven," might have a secondary application in church lighting, I think. However, these are facts, -- evils that should be remedied or avoided by those who have charge of such matters. Inattention to them is bad economy, financially as well as spiritually. Huddersfield is the place for attention to such things. The dim gas-lights will soon have a remedy, now that the cause has been ascertained. It is seldom one meets with a class of men in Methodism who have so entirely incorporated the Lord's business with their own as here. The affairs of the church are their affairs; they conduct them upon the same principles as they do their own; what ought to be done is done, and with dispatch. That is the way to sustain and keep in action a vigorous church. Methodism has great vitality and strength here. It is written, "They shall prosper who love Zion;" and our leading brethren here realize it to be so, for time and for eternity.
Jan. 31. -- I forgot to note that last Friday night we had a sweet and powerful time on Holiness, and that thirty persons professed to receive the blessing, and eleven were justified. Last Sabbath one hundred souls were saved and recorded. O, may every name of them be found at last in the book of life! -- Rev. 3:5; 21:57.
Last Tuesday I rode over to Leeds with Mr. Webb. We enjoyed an agreeable season at the Wesleyan Missionary Tea Meeting and Bazaar; -- a great variety of articles for sale; among the rest, a few verses celebrating our hard-fought battle in Leeds. O, but it did bring to remembrance scenes of conflict and victory. Satan fought hard for his kingdom those five months, but the Lord did give us the victory in the conversion of sixteen hundred souls, and in the sanctification of one thousand believers. All glory be to God in the highest, from whom cometh such victories through Jesus Christ our Lord!
I preached that night in St. Peter's Chapel, the largest in England belonging to the Wesleyans; accommodates between three and four thousand hearers, and it was full. Had an awful time; those who would not yield fled in terror at the close. Wit is a perilous talent; hard to be suppressed, I suppose. One of the preachers in the pulpit, observing the scene, turned to the other, and said: "See they run as if the devil was after them!" I am sure the devil was angry that his children should have such a fright. Could I have stayed a little longer in Leeds, should have had poetry of another order, doubtless; but, after fifteen souls were saved, we started for Huddersfield, where we arrived at one o'clock in the morning.
Had a good time last night, here. If the name of Jesus happened not to be in my text, he had a place in the sermon. Blessed Jesus! Thou art my love, my life, my all in all!
"Insatiate to this spring I fly."
Saturday morning, Feb. 1. -- Purity my theme last night. A snake may cast its coat, but keep its venom. A sinner may cast off much of the "old man" in outward, and even inward character but, if not cleansed from all sin, there is a snaky inclination in his nature that may wound others, or the cause of God, or himself, eternally.
That was a shrewd saying of one, that "a profession of religion, with out purity, is like a fair glove drawn over a foul hand." Purity is the prime jewel of moral worth, in man or woman. What is the most graceful dress humanity ever wore, if the one who wears it has a filthy person? We would shrink from such a creature. But such is he who makes a graceful profession of religion, and carries about him an unclean spirit, an impure heart; he lacks the prime jewel of moral worth -- purity. He resembles those Swiss smugglers in whose company I crossed the Jura mountains not long since. We noticed that they wore a profusion of jewelry, and marveled that persons otherwise so dirty-looking should be so adorned. Gold chains, with gold watches, thrown around necks that would have puzzled one to say when they were washed with pure water and fingers glittering with rings and gems, that seemed never to have had a moment's fellowship with soap! But we received a hint they were smuggling them into France from Switzerland.
There is a good deal of smuggling going on in religion, -- avoiding the Lord's customs on taxable goods: purity of heart is the duty for outside accomplishments in religion. Many are deceived thereby, and many deceive themselves. God we cannot deceive. It will be sad if we are detected in the last hour, and lose all our accomplishments and our souls together. It will certainly be so if our outside appearances are found to be contrary to inward realities; if underneath all our fine professions we have impure hearts; -- as those people with filthy persons under gold chains, rings, and jewelry.
Feb. 3, Monday morning -- A gracious sacramental season yesterday. A melting time on the sufferings of Christ. "We preach Christ crucified," says St. Paul. "We should look at sin as in two glasses," observes one; "in the glass of Christ's precious atoning blood, and in the glass of his death." Thus, when Paul preached a crucified Christ, he preached against sin most effectively -described it as a crimson die.
Jesus was "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief" says Isaiah. Grief and Jesus were no strangers. How sensibly that touches an audience! When did the cup of grief ever pass by untasted? And
"Can we thy houseless nights forget?
The cold dews on thy temples lying; The taunts, the spear, the bloody sweat, The last long agony of dying? Thy present gifts so large and free, The transports of eternity!"
Ay, that "bloody sweat." Ah! who can forget that grief, or, being reminded of it, remain unmoved? Grief met him at the garden entrance; but never, no, never had he met grief before with a heart so full of sorrowful emotions. His disciples marked the change in his appearance, -- that he began to be "very heavy;" that he entered the garden with sighs and sobs of grief, and with mournful utterances and broken exclamations of SORROW -- such as, "my soul is sorrowful;" a little further on, "my soul is exceeding sorrowful;" a few steps more, and he exclaimed, in yet more saddened and lamentable accents, "sorrowful even unto death;" shows how deep and real it was. Ah! it was not a mere semblance of sorrow, but real, downright sorrow. When King Artaxerxes noticed the dejection of Nehemiah, he inquired, "Why is thy countenance sad, seeing thou art not sick? this is nothing else but sorrow of heart." O Jesus, my Lord! this is nothing else but sorrow of heart! But why art thou thus, if thy death is but as a martyr's death, witnessing for the truth? for before thy day, and since, have men gone forth joyfully to die for it. Ah! a martyr's sensations afford no solution of the mystery of thy passion, O Christ! -- he began to bear the weight of the world's atonement, which martyrs never bore, an d which all the men upon earth, and angels in heaven to help them, could not have borne!
Further on in that solitary garden of Gethsemane, his faltering steps were heard, with stifled groans. No wonder his poor disciples were overwhelmed with sorrow, too, till pitying grief called upon sleep to soothe them into forgetfulness, while a hovering angel longed for permission to minister to him, all prostrate as he now lay upon the cold ground. Thrice had he declined that mysterious cup of our grief proffered to his trembling lips by the hand of his Father, saying, "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me! nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt," -- and all this, as the apostle says, with prayers, and supplications, with strong crying and tears, unto Him that was able to save him from death, an was heard, in that he feared." -- Heb. 5:7. In the thing he feared, he was heard. What was that? for did he not finally drink of that cup? If the mere cup of death was it, he was far from exemplifying the courage of a martyr. But if that cup contained the FULL PENALTY due to the sins of the whole world -- if Jesus was the representative of that world, to die in its stead -- the sacrificial lamb of God, to bear the general sins away in his own suffering person, making a full atonement for the same:-- then in some measure we comprehend the character of the sufferer and the nature of those sufferings which ensued. I had power on this point, -- exclaiming, let us cover our faces, as Elijah with his mantle, as our suffering Lord passes by. Let us recognize in the emotions which sway our hearts, and in the tears that bathe our cheeks, that we know and feel those sufferings were no common sufferings, that grief was no common grief, that agony was no common agony! No, no! -- men nor angels cannot measure it, -- cannot estimate it! -"
A weight of woe more than whole worlds could bear."
With what tender sympathy do those words of Jesus fill my heart, -- the last words he uttered before be tasted of that cup, "O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, THY WILL BE DONE;" if man cannot be saved except I drink it, my heart, my lips are now ready; and then that dark cup of our grief and sin penalty touched his lips, and he drank it but it was taken VOLUNTARILY a fact the infidel was called upon to mark. It had his full and free consent through intense love and pity for the infidel's soul and for my soul -- for every soul of man. What a powerful hold this gives one of an audience!
How instantaneous the effect of that cup! "The bloody sweat," -- how familiar the phrase! Do we properly comprehend it? How terrible the import! The blood first oozed out through every pore in crimson dew-drops all over his body, increasing in magnitude till, as St. Luke tells, his sweat was like great drops of blood falling down to the ground. There is evidence, too, that the night was not sultry, to cause sweat; for a fire was needed a few hours afterwards in the midst of a hall, where Peter desired to warm himself. He sweat lying upon the cold earth. He was bathed in blood caused by no world weapon; was crushed in soul, and bruised in body, but by no mortal hand. It was the storm and agony within which made the blood to appear without. Ah! how terrible that storm! How intense that agony! How intolerable that pressure! The tides and waves of the ocean, mighty as they are, are arrested by a slender strip of insignificant sand, as Jeremiah notices: "Though the waves toss themselves, yet cannot they prevail; though they roar, yet can they not pass." -- Jer. 5:22. Not so the purple tide in our dear Redeemer's body. Its crimson waves were set in motion by that storm within, -- a storm hitherto unknown and unfelt in any human frame, and never to be endured again! -- that tide, those waves, driven on by it, soon rushed through and over opposing barriers, deluged the surface of his body, stained all his garments as one treading in the wine-press, Isaiah 63:1, 3, -- and reached the earth upon which be lay! In the prime of manhood he entered that garden, -- in the bloom of youth, and health, and vigor, and with a constitution which never was debilitated by sin or by disease, he took that cup with no earthly liquid filled, and behold the result!
And how men's feelings looked out of their faces at the cry, Sinner! behold the Lamb of God! Weep for him who wept and bled for thee! Yes, thou dost weep; thou canst not help it! But O, weep not so much over the suffering of thy innocent Redeemer, but weep for thyself -- for thy sins! Begin the imitation of thy Lord, with prayers and supplications, strong crying and tears, that thou mayest be pardoned and saved from that dreadful hell from which thy Saviour's tears redeemed thee! And thou hast reason to fear it: for be assured that those agonies in the garden, and those sufferings of which Calvary tells, only indicate what thou must suffer in hell, if thou thyself shalt drink of that cup as a satisfaction to infinite justice for the sins of thy soul. Alas for thee then! It will require an eternity to drink it. If a few hours of agony and death sufficed thy Redeemer to make an atonement for thy sins it was because of the exceeding dignity of his person, and the infinite merit of his sufferings.
It is good to particularize, -- to single out this and the other character in an audience, -- to discern the who by the EXPRESSION, differing in this and the other, according to temperament, education, habits, views, prejudices. It makes the Gospel a personal thing; brings it home to the individual bosom; puts the honeycomb to the lips, or the cheering cordial, or the bitter but medical potion, or the potent remedy. How inspiring, as yesterday, to behold or hear the individual effects, -- the responsive word, or look, or tear, or shout, here and there, over nearly three thousand souls! Truly the Gospel is designed for the whole world; and there is a decided and an electrifying advantage in having an immense mass of mind at once under its sound. Perhaps more angelic beings assemble then. Did the Lord intend to teach this, ordaining that his famous temple should be in a manner lined with angelic figures? One of the fathers, a short time after the apostles, tells us that a certain person of undoubted veracity and piety declared to him that he had seen a vision of angels leaning forward towards the altar, and listening, as soldiers around their general. If they are ministering spirits sent forth to minister to those who shall be heirs of salvation, where should they be, but hovering over such a mass of redeemed souls? -- the interests at stake forbid one to suspect indifference. It is reasonable, also, to suppose a greater amount of divine influence present under such circumstances, to say nothing of the electrifying effect of such an imposing spectacle upon the preacher.
This is a digression. No matter; I do not feel good for much else today than to scribble and write out all the feelings and impressions of my heart. After prayer, I love the companionship of my pen; I like to note down ideas while they are fresh. From the sinner I had a ready transition to the believer, and with good effect. All hail, believing soul, over yonder! I see by thy looks thou art sympathizing with thy Lord. Thou hast redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of thy sins.
Yes, thou mayest well shout through thy tears! Shout, then, and I will help thee to shout, "Glory to God, and to the Lamb, for ever and ever, Amen!" Ay, scores of you shout, for you express it all in your looks; let it go up to hundreds and thousands, and when all present are at it, would that the whole town, and all England, and all nature, might join in it at once! -- a shout like a great thunder, such as John heard, "Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the LAMB for ever and ever." -- Rev. 5:13.
And yonder sits a poor brother; and over there as poor a sister; -- not poor in grace, nor in faith, bless God! but poor in this world; -- coat none of the best, -- worn as thyself with the world's rubs: who cares for thee? JESUS does. Why does he care for thee? Thy sympathies for his sufferings are met by his sympathies for thy sorrows and trials in life. Fear not. He has a crown for thee; but thou must be tried, and faithful, and true, a little longer. Jesus sees thee! He is coming to receive thee unto himself. He is filling thy heart with the sunshine of his presence now. Yes, shout! I love to hear a poor saint shout. More of you! More be it! Shout, then, by the dozen! Let Christ's poor have their jubilee! "Amens, Glorys and Hallelujahs," never disturb me when preaching, if God is in them, as now. They vibrate upon my heart-strings; they thrill my very soul; they electrize my whole being! Hallelujah! The Lord God omnipotent reigneth! Dry your tears, ye saints, and think how high your great Deliverer reigns! "Let us stay in the garden." Very well, then, let us stay in the garden. Let us administer the sacrament in the garden of Gethsemane! Forget that you are in Huddersfield, or in England. Imagine yourselves in the garden, as you surround the table of your risen Lord. Let the scenes of Gethsemane, if you will, as well as Calvary, be present to your imagination and faith, as you surround the table of your blessed Redeemer.
Hearken to a voice, not from the hills of Judea, but from the hills of Ireland! The Irish harp never sounded sweeter to my soul than in the following lines, by one of her sons. Hearken! -- sob, but shout not; weep, if you will!
"Alone in that still midnight hour, When gloom involved the mountain round him, And hell's dark spirits given the power, As they had long the will, to wound him, The strength which Heaven supplied withdrawn, What wonder that his frame should languish, Aware that morn's approaching dawn Must rise on its commencing anguish?
"Deserted by the world he came To save, which o'er his woes exulted; Ordained to die the death of shame, By those for whom he died insulted; His Father's smile withdrawn from him, And his few heedless followers sleeping, What marvel if his eyes grew dim And his lorn soul went wild with weeping!
The dateless sins of centuries past,
The countless crimes of unborn ages, Upon his burdened shoulders cast, To bear through torture's lingering stages To be by one false friend betrayed, Just ere another has denied him, While none remain to lend their aid, Or stand in death's dark hour beside him:
All these, and many a wilder woe, Dark phantoms of unknown existence, Came crowding round, above, below, And gathering in the gloomy distance, Till from his bent brow poured the blood, Down on the stainless soil before him, Even though the pitying angel stood And waved his wings of healing o'er him.
"Man! durst thou after this complain, And weary Heaven with wild repining That thou hast felt some passing pain, And seen some rainbow hope declining?
Know that, whatever griefs came o'er, Whatever pangs misfortune gave thee, He suffered then ten thousand more, And gladly suffered all to save thee."
Ah this was, indeed, a gracious time! I suppose there were two thousand people at the Lord's table, -- and such weeping! There were other effective points in the discourse, -- where Grief met Jesus at Pilate's bar, on the streets of Jerusalem, with the cross on his bare and bleeding shoulders, -- on Calvary, on the cross, -- heaven and earth sympathizing and coloring with his woes, -- till all the sky was draped in black, and blackness lay heavy on all the land.
Had an immense crowd at night, and a storm from the pulpit. Critics and croakers and all their family were in an amaze, with backsliders and sinners, -- as if in the predicament of Wordsworth's Wagoner:
"Astounded in the mountain-gap, With peals of thunder, clap on clap, And many a terror-striking flash And somewhere, as it seems, a crash Among the rocks, with weight of rain, And sullen motions long and slow, That to a weary distance go -Till, breaking in upon the dying strain, A rending overhead begins the fray again!"
The Lord did help my soul. His truth flashed like fire; -- to use an idea of Petrarch, "like heaven's own thunder it smote the trembling mind." The slain of the Lord were many. If this does not raise the devil and bring a storm about our ears, then Satan is asleep, or has quit the field, that's all! There are some "unwedgeable and gnarled oaks" here, requiring some of those bolts which the poet called upon to split them! The Gospel is no tame affair when preached with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven! It has bolts, too, effectual as those which fall in thunder. There was a splitting and a rending of "the oaks of Bashan" last night; and a rending away of souls from the devil, the world and sin, to Jesus, who received, healed and saved them.
"And many to his name allegiance vowed, who owned another master till that hour, But now shook off his vows, and praised Redeeming Love."
The number saved by eleven o'clock that night, and registered, was one hundred and thirty souls, besides ten children! All glory be to God alone!
It is a curious circumstance, and I think worthy of record, -- for I verily believe it is recorded in heaven, -- that this day's remarkable success is traceable to the prayers of a company of converted Sabbath-school children. Last Saturday afternoon they assembled for a prayer-meeting among themselves. During the meeting, it seems, it came into the mind of one of them to pray for the salvation of a certain number of souls, in pardon and purity, the following day, -- one hundred and forty was the number named. The idea took with these young believers. Their faith fastened firmly upon the power and goodness of Christ, that it should be so. They plead, and felt, and ventured to believe, that it would be so; and it actually was so! On examination of the register, it is found that forty of those saved yesterday were cases of purity, and the remaining one hundred were conversions. But these praying children included both blessings in the word "saved," which they had used before the Lord, I suppose, with great emphasis, -- knowing well the meaning of the term. Thanks be unto God for Sabbath-school instruction! Jesus thanked his Father that he had hidden these things from the wise and prudent, and revealed them unto babes, because it seemed good in his sight. It is so still. And, as our Lord said, on another occasion, when the blind and the lame were healed by him in the temple, and the place rang with the sweet voices of children crying " Hosanna to the Son of David," and the Chief Priests and Scribes were trying to scowl it down, saying to Jesus, "Hearest thou what these say?" -- "Yea," he mildly replied, "have ye never read, OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES AND SUCKLINGS THOU HAST PERFECTED PRAISE?" as if a string were wanting in God's praise, till infant voices supplied it!
A poet says, "The child is the father of the man." The elements of the future man, good or bad, are often developed in the child. May it be so in these! If the infancy of their faith be so strong and prevailing, what may it not reach in its manhood, if they remain true to it and grow in grace, up to "the bright and burning noon of their intellectual day"! We read that "The Spirit of the Lord began to move SAMSON, at times, in the camp of Dan between Zorah and Eshtaol." -- Judges 13:25. That was an early earnest of his future power.
There is a society of socialists in this town, -- Infidels, hard-faced men, -- bold and daring for their evil cause; wills deep in their souls to oppose the Bible. Of course our doings are intolerable. They have an edifice set apart for their Sabbath day and evening gatherings, where holy time is outrageously desecrated. An old woman passing by the structure, the other day, paused to read the inscription high on front, and, her sight not being good, she read, "The Hell of Science." "There did you ever! -- what are they going to do with science? -- the Hell of Science!" and passed on. "The Hall of Science" is the motto; but the old woman was not far out of the way, after all. They have had it from the pulpit rather hot, for their patience, of late. Their assemblies have been thinned, almost broken up; and, besides, numbers of their adherents have been lately converted. The wasp's nest has been greatly disturbed; they have tried to sting and do other mischievous things, which have rather recoiled upon themselves. Public opinion has given them some significant frowns. A few expressive symptoms of dissatisfaction with the revival among certain would-be "higher class" ones have given them courage; but they counted too fast. It is hard coping with the power of God; -- not the first time a revival of religion has turned into foolishness the wisdom of the crafty. They are vexed that human nature will so patronize "this hell and damnation." We have something better than that, gentlemen; although even that is worthy of an escape from, -- not from hearing about it, -- but from suffering its realities in eternity. Well, they have concluded to send in a flag of truce, asking for a cessation of hostilities, or at least a decrease of the cannonade, and time for explanations. A deputation has waited upon me. One, in the name of the rest, entered his protest against my "misrepresentations and unbearable inferences," -- that I had even injured his character! Poor man! I neither recognized his name nor face, although not unlikely I may have drawn his portrait pretty correctly in the pulpit; and, not liking his own likeness, and his neighbors recognizing it, he of course felt himself scandalized. I remarked, my habit was to attack infidelity in all its shapes, forms and complexions; and if it sheltered itself under the wing of Socialism, they must not be surprised if a few of my arrows should lodge in its feathers. It might be somewhat annoying, but their best way was to thrust out the traitor to good morals and religion, and let the arrows of the Gospel pierce him on his own unfenced commons; that, if I had injured their society, to prove it, and they should have ample satisfaction. The plaster shall be as large as the wound. Perhaps you have no objections to tell me, honestly, what are your real principles in a religious point of view. Do you believe the Bible to be a revelation from God? "We do not." That there is an hereafter after death, and that you have each a soul to enjoy or to suffer its awards?" No, that is not our creed." But you surely believe in the existence of a God? "No, I do not," and he became somewhat excited. Indeed! that is worse and worse. By denying you have a soul that will live forever, you place yourselves on a level with brute beasts. This is hard upon you, but is it anything more than fact? But, alas! by denying the existence of a God, you exhibit a capability brutes possess not. You are Atheists. "I have thought, -- I have reasoned thus." Hold! what is that which thinks and reasons within you? Your very soul, perhaps, whose existence you have just denied, -- that which thinks and reasons within your body may do so without the body, by and by! Take care that it thinks and reasons correctly in this world, or it may be worse for it the next! "I think for myself. No man shall dictate to me what I shall believe." O, that is all well enough but see to it that you think not erroneously; we are but conversing now, not dictating. "I have more independence than others. I think for myself. I moved step by step, till I reached my present vantage-ground in belief;" Your present unbelief, you should say. You have some talent, sir. It is a pity you should employ it in proving yourself nothing but a brute. "A brute?" Yes, a brute! what are you else, if soulless? "I want superstition hooted out of the world, and our Socialist principles better understood; then we should have a very different state of things."
Doubtless! Men without a soul, a world without a God, the Bible a fable, Christianity a dream, accountability after death a figment of the imagination; hell a superstition, eternity a blank! A changed world, indeed, should Socialism prevail; -- black as the globe which I noticed on the tomb of Voltaire, in Paris, a few months since; -- ay, and one of hell's appendages. What advantage would it be to me, pray, to believe as you do? My soul is happy in believing what you discard. Would I be more truly happy in your unbelief? What benefit?-- what good by disbelieving as you? Would it improve my morality, purity, happiness, or safety? You believe I am safe enough, even now, as regards eternity, do you not? "O, certainly." Now hear me! I believe you are in danger of eternal damnation. Whether truth or error, that is my belief. Why, then, should you wonder that I try to disturb you, overthrow your errors, and convert you to Christ? But, I do wonder why you should try to convert me, or any Christian, to your way of thinking, unless your heart is as dark as your principles; -- the devil for such business!
After urging the possibility of resisting, grieving and quenching the Holy Spirit, and sinning away the day of grace, and the consequences, hardness of heart, and reprobacy of mind, and an untroubled depravity to believe or disbelieve anything, I turned to one of the deputation, and said: Does this man represent correctly the principles of your society? "No; I don't go quite so far," the chief interposed, saying, "it is no use conversing any more about it, -- let us go;" and drew towards the door, feeling somewhat different than when he came in; reminding one of that odd picture in Holland, -- a Dutchman with a full-blown bladder upon his shoulder, while another behind is pricking it with a pin, and uttering a Latin motto, signifying "How soon is all blown down!" Now, then, what are to be their next tactics? We shall see.
Feb. 4th. -- My hoarseness rather increases. The work advances with unabated power. There are adversaries, but they cannot effect much: and the power of God is sweeping them away before it. Error seems like chaff before a whirlwind. Not less than nine hundred sinners have been converted since the revival began, last December; and about four hundred believers have been entirely sanctified throughout spirit, soul and body. -- 1 Thess. 5:23, 24. All glory be to God on high, for ever and ever! Amen. My own soul is in a flourishing state; but the body makes some complaint. The Lord has ever been better to me than my boding fears; I must go on unfalteringly. If the battle is the Lord's, as I believe it is, and I am necessary to lead on his spiritual troops, he will strengthen the outer as well as the inner man. With this confidence, let me onward, vigorously and courageously. Amen.
