Selected from: John Love, Letters of the Late John Love, D.D. (Glasgow, 1840).

London, 13th December, 1796.

Rev. dear Sir,—Your complaints of the want of lively spiritual concern respecting the heathen are much to be preferred to the frothy declamations of Laodicean self-sufficiency. It would be, in my estimation, a favourable token if many of the friends of this institution were brought to a stand in this respect, and compelled to put off their ornaments from a felt want of inward spiritual wrestling, compassion, and zeal in behalf of a world lying on the shores of perdition. I wish to hear more of the language of real humiliation, and of a sense of the unworthiness, guilt, and pollution of the people whose salvation we desire to promote, and of a lively prostration of spirit before the sovereignty of the high and holy One, and of astonishment at the idea of his condescending to give the least encouragement to the endeavours of vile rebels in behalf of rebels. I fear we are not yet, as a body, brought low enough in these respects to be fit for close dealing with Him with whom we have to do, or for receiving much substantial blessing from his hands. I shall not, therefore, be surprised if he should take some very unexpected method for the awakening and humiliation of those who have the goodliest appearance amongst us. With respect to the generality of professors in this country, what I have known of them convinces me that, if a contrite and humble spirit be essential to real religion, their share of it is small indeed. But, I apprehend, the wheels of divine government are moving towards such a state of things as will oblige the profane infidel, the masked hypocrite, and the real convert, to speak out, and to take openly their several stations. Blessed are those servants who shall be found watching, and watching chiefly over that which is least seen! When emptying and humiliation have made room enough for it, the sea of heavenly light and grace will flow in upon us, so as that there shall not be room enough to receive it. That state of things which shall be as the shadow of death to wretched worldlings and hypocrites, shall be as a morning without clouds to the true children of Zion, in whom that kingdom is which no storms can shake.

I fear the time is approaching when those gates shall be wide opened through which unprepared souls must pass into the horrors of the second death. Our utmost endeavours to improve the present interval of tranquillity are loudly called for; but we can do nothing without power from on high.

J. L.

Greenock, 7th December, 1798.

Dear Sir,—The goods have arrived safe, through the kindness of Providence, excepting the box with papers, which was designed to go by the waggon; of it I have not yet heard, though it may perhaps be come to Glasgow. We reckon ourselves much obliged to you for your diligent and faithful attention respecting these matters.

Though I have no reason to repent of having given up London, yet I retain a concern for the abiding effect of my ministry among the few whose minds and consciences were accessible to its influence; and I wish to entertain solemn and tender compassion towards them, as living in the midst of such a deformed chaos of iniquity, of filthiness of the flesh and of the spirit, against which God will one day appear in the glory of his sin-avenging power, and clad with zeal as with a cloak. They who pass through such a crowd of base hypocrites and profane rebels against the Most High, without being dragged with them to their hell, must be wonderfully kept, guarded, and fortified by the wonderful grace of God, and will have much need of Christ’s praying for them that their faith fail not. That the number of such in London is comparatively small indeed, will, I am persuaded, be made fully known to men and angels in that day when the dreadful Judge of the earth shall cause his fire to rend the bowels of this vast globe, dry up its seas, and consume its detestable idols. It is your concern, my dear sir, to seek to have it made very sure in your own conscience, that you shall be among the few who shall be seen undismayed at the coming of the Lord.

I have no need to write to you any new doctrine or to alter my manner of address to you on the subjects of eternity, excepting as to the degree of earnestness, vehemence, and power, though I were sure that the solemnities of judgment would commence the next morning after your receiving this letter. I have only to call you to remember and to follow up the clear aim and tendency of my ministry, with respect to a deep conviction of sin and wrath, the consuming purity of the living God, the high demands of his glorious and eternal justice, the precious virtue of the blood and obedience of Him who is God, the supernatural quality of that faith which truly receives the atonement, the riches of the love and truth of Jehovah towards those whom he draws to himself in Christ, the greatness and universality of their renewing by his power the glory of their character and prospects in time and to all eternity. If you practically preserve and entertain the impression of the instructions and warnings you have heard on these and similar subjects, I do not hesitate to say that it shall be well with you. Following this course, and obeying in all points the dictates of an enlightened and lively conscience, you will find marvellous light bursting in from above and shining on your path, and every needful providential supply and deliverance shall assuredly be imparted.

I find it necessary to rise every day with new ardour to the Christian race, work, and warfare; and to assault heaven with fresh violence, and to press into the realizing sight of the Ancient of days, and of his bright throne and tribunal, and of that high paradise where he walks, shedding abroad the sweet odours of his love and glory, that I may be ready to contend for him in this ill-smelling world, and to stand among his saints and angels when the vapour of life shall vanish.

I request the Christian remembrance and prayers of those who have loved me “for the truth’s sake, which dwelleth with us, and shall be with us for ever.”

J. L.

Anderston, May 6, 1801.

Dear Madam,—We are much concerned at the continuance of your gloomy apprehensions, which, though your own power cannot remove, yet it is your duty to oppose to the uttermost. When God clothes the heavens with blackness and makes sackcloth their covering, and shuts up in the prison-house where no light can be perceived, it is natural to take a kind of pleasure in yielding to despondency, and in defending it by many arguments. But to resist this tendency requires self-denial, and is the path of duty, however difficult. Let me, therefore, request you to attempt this self-resistance, and to say to yourself, “Why art thou cast down, O my soul; and why art thou disquieted within me?” And, though, you may suppose it no hard matter to assign strong reasons to justify discouragement, yet remember, that though these reasons may now seem firm like the immovable mountains, yet shall they be as chaff before the whirlwind, before a just, believing view of that incomprehensible, infinitely high Saviour, whose excellency and love and riches of salvation are beyond all search. Therefore, when the cloud appears blackest and most impenetrable, and when conscience or imagination are mustering up their heaviest charges and forebodings, endeavour to believe that there is One hiding himself behind and above the cloud, whose beams of grace will at length break through it, and shine in upon you with a sweeter lustre than ever.

In the all-fulness, the wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, redemption, compassion, grace, and power, laid up in Jesus the Son of God, there is infinitely more than enough to swallow up your deepest complaints and miseries: Let nothing put you away from knocking at this door, and watching at these gates; though you should seem to be slain at them, and though Satan should raise a Euroclydon (Acts 27), a combination of storms striving one with another. What, though your strength and confidence seem quite gone, and nothing left but fainting, overwhelming, and sinking, as in the belly of hell! these are no more than the trial of faith, felt more bitterly than can be painted in words, by David, Job, Jonah, Heman, and myriads since their time. What, though faith itself seems quite extinguished! This is necessary that you may know your entire dependence on the Author and Finisher of faith, for that influence of omnipotence which gives being to the principle and to every act of faith, and which secretly maintains it when no human eye can trace it out. What, though the precious word of God, and all means and ordinances, seem to have quite lost their efficacy! When the God of the Bible and of the ordinances comes again into them, these will be as life from the dead. Therefore wait, and continue waiting, and resolve to die waiting: “Although thou sayest, I shall not see him, yet judgment (that is, wise, holy mercy) is before him, therefore trust thou in him.” Be sparing of complaints in the ears of men, especially of whole-hearted secure professors—rather complain to God.

Express our sympathy to Mrs. M—, and desire her to think of that expression, “the good-will of Him who dwelt in the bush.” Her distress of body and of spirit may be piercing as the element of fire, and may seem to overspread her wholly, and to threaten destruction every moment: but that “good-will” is mighty to control and check the flame—and it dwells in the midst of it for that purpose. May the Almighty visit her with strong consolation, and her son with strong subduing grace, through the infinitely precious and powerful blood of the Lamb!

J. L.

Glasgow, October 4th, 1804.

My dear Sir,—I was lately much gratified with your communication, but shall not be able to reply with sufficient minuteness to all the interesting particulars it contains. I trust the Lord of the church has approved your zeal and activity for his interest, both where it has apparently failed of effect, and where the event promises better success. We have no reason to be surprised at meeting with inexplicable occurrences in the accomplishment of designs formed in that eternal light, which is to the noblest of created intelligencies unapproachable, and the object of their humble adoration and wonder. It is to be esteemed an expression of immense benignity and condescension, if, in any one case, our desires and exertions to do what appears to us good in relation to the glory of God, do coincide with the counsel of his incomprehensible wisdom, which must ultimately stand.

And now let us often stir up ourselves to look through the clouds and darkness, far beyond this passing scene of imperfection, anxiety, and trial, into that glorious kingdom of unsearchable riches, delight, and triumph, into which the cross and victory of our living Redeemer have burst open our passage. With respect to myself, I find my views and desires still more strongly than ever centering in the humiliation and sufferings of the Holy Lamb of God, as connected with the majesty and power of his present exalted state in the heaven of heavens. And I am permitted from time to time to take such a survey of this wonderful, incomprehensible, inexhaustible object, as conveys to me assurance of complete and eternal victory; and that all the intermediate difficulties and temptations shall be surmounted and at length swallowed up in an unknown fulness of joy. But my chief complaint is constant interruption, the frequent returning power of darkness, even after the clearest and sweetest light. I see also an immense subject of mourning and supplication in the alarming state of a guilty nation, church, and world, lulled asleep by the artifice of infernal powers under the most portentous appearances and alarms of Divine judgment; and willing, alas! too willing, to remain unvisited with those mighty breathings of quickening grace, which alone can remedy the wide-spreading disease, and bring into propitious order the tremendous chaos of evil.

But why do I make mention of these things? Why but because I trust they accord with your sentiments and progress in the spiritual course and warfare, and because every opportunity is to be embraced for mutual excitement to faith, diligence, and thanksgiving.

J. L.

Glasgow, September 33, 1806.

My dear Sir,—I shall be exceedingly glad if my meeting you in the way of letter, amidst the hurry of London, may be of any avail for your establishment, consolation, and improvement. I have had experience enough how difficult it is to maintain spirituality of mind, while so tumultuous a medley of men and things is constantly humming all around. I have known also the possibility and high advantage of overcoming the world and its god in that arduous situation.

Your difficulties, however, may be considered as still greater than mine were, from the pressure of important worldly concerns, from the want of leisure and retirement to look through the deception of the noisy phantoms which crowd the metropolis, and from the want of intercourse with the spiritually-minded, who may be here and there met with. But the sufficiency of grace is to be resorted to and honoured, as being prepared to display itself in the face of every possible complication of difficulties. Still, however, the inquiry may be urged, how and by what methods may the mind most successfully exert itself in such circumstances, that it may draw down and cherish the sacred influence of heavenly grace, and attain the high establishment and consistency of sentiment and character marked out in such passages as 2 Cor. 4:10, “Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body”?

To this inquiry I might give an answer in different ways. To check the almost irresistible tide of worldly liveliness and vigour flowing in on every side, it may be useful to think of the London which is under ground, of the astonishing multitude of citizens and strangers, who make no further figure or disturbance, their bodies having become undistinguishable dust, and their spirits either happy or miserable in the unseen regions, equally far removed from all connection with the once fondly pursued objects of this earth. To stop here, however, would be but a melancholy method to preserve sobriety and elevation of spirit. It is necessary to look up out of such a vortex of vanity, wickedness, and misery, as is found in London, to the City of true life, glory, and delight, in comparison whereof all the boasted liveliness and delight of earth are insipidity and degradation. For this end it must be the endeavour of the mind to realise often, though it should be but in short broken glances, the perpetual presence of the invisible God of the spirits of all flesh, before whom the assembled nations make no higher figure than that of a drop of the bucket, and the small dust of the balance; that God who, with transcendent majesty and awful composure, looks through at once, as their Judge, all the human spirits that stir over the face of the world, and closely follows each individual, as though he were standing solitary before him, the lonely inhabitant of a desert globe.

With the majesty, purity, and power of the ever-present and governing Deity, it is necessary to mingle the recollection of patient condescending kindness and bounty, but especially to think of this high God as becoming man, and dwelling with mortals to take a near view of their condition and misery, to endure their contradiction and provocations, and to exhibit the sublime mystery of love in providing the only adequate sacrifice of atonement, ransom from hell, and price of heaven. If the mind, through the solicited influence of grace, can dart its thoughts now and then to the cross and to the throne of the Lamb, and to the paradise which is around that throne, the world will be controlled, and will be conquered. The conquest will be not gloomy, but joyful, and attended with a kind of grateful ease, enabling the Christian to pass through worldly scenes and transactions with all the activity which can be reasonably required, and without the just charge of affected demureness. Even to fail in the attempt will be profitable. And in some cases it will be found possible to take advantage of some hint, suggested even by a worldly person, to convey spiritual sentiments with lasting and important effect.

That the God of all power and kindness may be with you to guard you from evil, to prosper your exertions, and to restore you with additional comfort to the satisfaction of home, is the earnest desire of

J. L.

Glasgow, January 2, 1807.

Dear Sir,—I heartily congratulate you on occasion of the favourable movement of Providence, which gives you access to a situation of usefulness, in itself highly important, and in various respects adapted to meet your wishes. This interposition of Providence will be the more precious in your eyes, when you compare it, either, perhaps, with your own fears, or with the procedure of God towards others; some of them not your inferiors in ability, diligence, and piety, who have been long tossed about at the caprice of the world, before reaching any fixed situation. I hope you are disposed to say, “Who am I, that thou hast brought me hitherto?” and to shrink into the dust before the sovereign kindness of the great God.

I confess that my satisfaction in your success is in some degree checked by anxiety respecting the dangers attached to your new condition. To creatures so foolish, carnal, and proud as we are, all prosperity is dangerous. When Providence smiles, we are permitted, indeed, to rejoice; but, if we know ourselves, it will be “with trembling.” But in such a case as yours, the indulgence of pride and carnality, even secretly and hardly perceptibly to ourselves, must be peculiarly dangerous, inasmuch as it disqualifies for real usefulness, and moves the jealousy of Him, on whose continual presence, guidance, and mighty influence, all genuine success and comfort in the gospel ministry entirely depend.

“The Lord Jesus Christ be with thy spirit!” was the wish breathed from the loving heart of the dying apostle, in behalf of Timothy. As I truly wish to adopt this desire on your behalf, I am emboldened to endeavour to remind you of such things as may tend to secure the fulfilment of so weighty a petition. And with this view, it can hardly be sufficiently felt, of what essential importance it is, that the heart be brought down to that low contrition and abasement, which are so congenial to the presence of that High and Lofty One, in whom are so strongly united the remotest extremes of majesty and condescension.

But let us put the question, Where is the occasion for pride in undertaking a work, for which we are so poorly qualified—a work at approaching to which an angel might tremble? If you look well to the nature of the ministerial charge, and to the workings of your own heart, unless your heart be very different from mine, you will never want sufficient matter of humiliation: the applauses and the resistance of poor blind men will equally abase you. We may have a flow of words: but what is it to be set up, like a Balaam, with a word in his mouth, to be as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal? Where are the secret wrestlings and travailing in birth? What is the proportion between our concern, and the danger of souls bleeding to death under the disease of sin, awfully suspended between heaven and hell? And though our concern were a thousand times greater than it is, what is it, when compared with the tears and blood, and travail of soul of the Holy One of God? You know the life of Brainerd; what a spirit of self-abasement he manifested; how, in the midst of the most strenuous exertions, in the midst of supplications to God and addresses to men the most fervid, in the midst of successes the most splendid, he was ever complaining of vileness and short-coming, often crying out of blood-guiltiness.

All this, however, must not be permitted to degenerate into despondency or indifference. The work of faith and labour of love, connected with ever-increasing humility, shall not be in vain. When the lesson of the insufficiency of all means, and the defilement of all our exertions, hath been duly learned, and when crumbs falling from the children’s table appear precious and marvellous in our eyes, and when we cease from vain confidence in our own sword and bow; then shall the arm of the Lord be revealed, “and he that reapeth shall receive wages, and gather fruit to everlasting life.” Then shall those wonders be wrought, which are so far above the might, and even the comprehension of angelic spirits, that, after all they have witnessed on earth and in heaven, new examples of them engage afresh their search, admiration, praises, and delight. And at the great appearing of the worshipped Lord of the angelic hosts, the instruments of conveying salvation to others, though once confessedly vile and imperfect, shall, through grace, “shine as the brightness of the firmament, and as the stars for ever and ever.”

“The Lord Jesus Christ, therefore, be with thy spirit,” to inspire faith, zeal, wisdom, patience, fortitude! I trust you are truly desirous to give up yourself into his forming hands; and that, trembling at the thoughts of being betrayed by the deceitful heart in any degree, (“I am rich and increased with goods”), you will choose to be under the control, and loving though humbling rebukes, of the Son of God, and seek as a privilege of the noblest kind, “that he may sit over you as a refiner and purifier of silver.”

I might, in the way of counsel, refer to many things, which, however, will be thoroughly learned only by your own experience. It will be of some importance to be cautious of the intoxicating incense of flatterers, who are to be dreaded, as a corrupting, treacherous race; and, on the other hand, to guard against the irritation of opposers. The religious mistakes and imperfections of your people must be marked, but not too violently opposed. True grace, beset with much ignorance and defilement, must be valued, and preferred to the hypocrisy which may lurk under an officious readiness to chime in with all your opinions and views. It will require much prudence to avoid the extremes of a selfish, unfeeling recluseness, and of an unprofiting mingling with society of a merely worldly and sensual nature. No parties must be set up, of the rich against the poor, or the poor against the rich; or of one congregation as a rival to another. The greatest candour, respect, and delicacy, ought to adorn your deportment towards elder brethren in the ministry; particularly towards him who is placed by Providence in a situation of superiority to you, which you should endeavour to yield to him in an easy and grateful manner, wherever conscience is not really affected, which, I hope, will seldom or never occur.

But I will leave these and other things to your own thoughts, and to the guidance of the wisdom which is from above. Having thus far signified my concern for your true welfare and prosperity in the work of the Lord, and for the coming of his kingdom among your people, I once more repeat, wishing to do it with much humility and concern, the apostolical desire, “The Lord Jesus Christ be with thy spirit!”

J. L.

Glasgow, January 31, 1809.

Dear Sir,—I sincerely sympathise with the distressed state of your mind; and, in the view of all the circumstances which have occasioned and tend to aggravate it, I wish to enter into the deepest concern, that the wounds of your conscience may be truly, not slightly, healed. I begin with remarking that you must beware of supposing that your having fallen into such evils, though they are of a very heinous and hateful nature, is a sure token of God’s entirely rejecting and casting you away. They may prove the means of preventing evils really greater, though generally little dreaded, namely, a proud self-righteous presumption, and a secure carnal resting in the world and its comforts, attended with the haughty rejection of Christ as a Saviour, and of God in him as the portion and felicity of the soul now and for ever. There is another occasion of discouragement against which you must endeavour to guard your mind, that which may arise from difficulties and delays when you approach the gate of life and salvation. Be not surprised though you find a serious meaning in those words of the Saviour, “Strive to enter in at the strait gate.” But, in order to secure a good issue of your present perplexing anxieties, the first part of the more practical counsel which I would offer is, that you seek from God, and earnestly endeavour to attain a spiritual conviction of the evil nature of sin, and of your own universal sinfulness. It is so far well that you perceive something of the virulence of grosser evils. You must, however, not be satisfied until you see such evils in that spiritual commanding light which will at the same time bring to view more hidden and refined evils of the heart.

Those abominations which relate to the sinful gratification of bodily appetite are really evil, for the same reason on account of which a dominant covetousness or worldly spirit—or a becoming manly pride as it may be accounted in the world—is evil. The great evil is in substance the same in them all—the departure of the heart from the living God, the preferring of self and the creature to the infinitely high and glorious God. That great and holy God, if spiritually realized to your mind, will rouse conscience, and show you evils unspeakable, not merely in some particular acts of sensuality and rebellion, but in the whole frame of your mind, course of your thoughts, and stream of your inward affections.

Let not your attention, however, be too long fixed on these awakening views of your state as a sinner. Endeavour, as soon as possible, to bring them into connection with enlarged views of the mercy, love, wisdom, power, and all-sufficiency of God as shining forth in Jesus, the Redeemer of lost souls. Where sin hath abounded, it is the plan and triumph of grace much more to abound.

God is glorified when we see and confess that our sins are immensely evil; because done against so glorious a majesty, against so wonderful an assemblage of infinite perfections. The same God is glorified still more when we see and believe that the blood of Jesus cleanseth from all sin, and possesses for this purpose an unlimited virtue; because all the glory and majesty of the incomprehensible Godhead is impressed on the obedience and sacrifice of the Man who is the fellow of Jehovah the Father.

I am aware that of yourself you cannot enter into this high healing light of salvation; but it is your duty to go as far as you can in the deliberate rational consideration of these things; and when you have done or are doing so, to look up to the almighty Spirit of God to carry you farther. You must try to cast yourself and your whole case upon Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the all-sufficient loving Saviour of vile sinners, and wait till the sacred fire of the Spirit change your carnal effort and exertion into that view of the Saviour and approach to him which is of a spiritual and saving nature. This, when clearly attained, will speak for itself, and will, in a surprising manner, lift you above all your fears, above all your distresses of body and soul. For this you ought to continue to believe and pray until you obtain it. Having given you this counsel, I have only to request that you would send me a note of your having received this.

J. L.

Glasgow, 28th February, 1815.

My dear Sir,—I hope to be enabled by grace to meet your wishes respecting the Friday evening’s service. I am concerned to find that your sorrow and anxiety are so heavily “turned on you” at this time; and am inclined to watch the opportunity of standing behind the ever-living High Priest, in making request for you and your interesting fellow-sufferer. Pressing burdens and large necessities become our privileges, when brought near that high throne where compassion and bounty and inviolable truth appear in forms so majestic. A dark and tempestuous ocean of grief is the proper situation for the near approaches of the glorified Man of sorrows, whose acquaintance with grief has not been effaced by many ages of heavenly delight. Manifold and great tribulations are a measure showing us the height of that purity and the riches of the eternal pleasures prepared for us by that strange manner of love which the Father has bestowed on us.

To Him who so loved us from of old in the awful recesses of a past eternity, and to the grace of Him who became our days-man and suffering, loving Surety, and to the Spirit of truth, power, and love, I commend you, your afflicted partner, your aged parent, and your surviving children.

J. L.

Glasgow, 26th September, 1815.

Dear Madam,—We were painfully surprised by the account of your heavy trial, the evening before we left G—. Important circumstances, which could not then be altered, prevented us from stopping to be with you at the time of the funeral; this we much regretted. But sometimes counsel and comfort come more seasonably and with greater force after the first shock of severe trial is a little abated. For, at first, when heavy calamity breaks in suddenly, it has the effect of stupifying and confounding the sufferer. Then the mind is unhinged and agitated, like the sea in a storm; and, if this should be prevented at the first opening of such trial, yet it generally takes place soon after, as we see exemplified in the case of the illustrious pattern of suffering patience, Job. Though at first he bowed submissively to the will of the Almighty, yet it is on record that, soon after, Job “opened his mouth and cursed his day.” And, from this very circumstance, you may learn not to give up hope of attaining to true resignation and comfort under your trial, though for a time you may find within you a multitude of disorderly rebellious thoughts, which you know not how to control and overcome.

What may now be your feelings and the state of your mind we can only conjecture. But it may be of some use to point out the right frame of spirit, and the manner of struggling towards it, in circumstances like yours. Such a trial carries with it the voice, “It is the Lord,” “Be still, and know that I am God,” “Stand in awe, and sin not”; and also another voice, “Look unto me, and be ye saved,” “Come to me and I will give you rest.” Whatever be the tumultuating of flesh and blood, your endeavour certainly ought to be to set God before you, and to come to a serious meeting with him in this solemn trial—the most solemn, in some respects, that can ever befall you.

Let me request you, therefore, looking for light and help from above, to try to take a realizing view of the majestic sovereignty of the high and lofty One before whom the angels of light veil their faces, and in whose sight the assembled nations appear mean and insignificant as the drop of a bucket or the small dust of the balance. Admit and cherish the idea of your own meanness in the presence of the infinite Majesty, that you may at least be silent before him, and may not venture to judge rashly, or to charge him foolishly; and let this open the way to your listening to the voice of Scripture and of conscience respecting your sinfulness as a fallen creature, and the injustice as well as danger of censuring the procedure which, however stern and awful its aspect, is mingled with great mercy. Say, then, with Job, “Behold I am vile, what shall I answer thee? I will lay my hand upon my mouth.” “I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eyes see thee: Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”

When, through the teaching of grace, you come to this posture of humiliation in the free acknowledgment of sin, [then] mercy and consolation will not be far off. But you must seek actively to press forward, to behold and approach Him who is “God manifested in the flesh,” the Lamb of God, taking away sin and the curse, who was himself the deepest sufferer, a man of sorrows; and who, when visibly on earth, looked on the tears and sorrows of mourners with an eye incomparably tender, and with a voice of power said to them, “Weep not.” He then carried about with him the true balm for the wounds of the heart, which now, unseen, he dispenses from heaven.

Here, indeed, there are difficulties. The consolation in Christ is rich and powerful; but not to be reached without a struggle—a struggle sometimes tedious as well as severe.

When the mind is dark and the heart dreary, burdened, and enfeebled, the causes of grief are near, and press on the senses and imagination. It is then difficult to apprehend, with clearness and force, the personal glory and the true spiritual presence of a Saviour unseen. It is difficult to perceive the waters of life, though flowing near us in the law-purity and obedience, and in the bloody sufferings recorded by the Gospels, and to feel the authority and power of that voice which invites and warrants the saints to draw near. Here there must be striving to enter in at the strait gate.

But there is an Almighty Spirit, spoken of particularly [in] John 16, by whose wonderful energy Christ and his riches of love are made evident, and with sweet power brought home to the heart.

I must not further dwell on these things, but must call and intreat you to continue asking, seeking, and knocking, till you taste and feel more of these things than language can describe. In this way you shall obtain support, victory, and rest. You will learn to avoid unprofitable musings on outward circumstances and rash gloomy conclusions. You will leave room for what the God of all grace and power may have secretly wrought, amidst the hurry and disorder of affliction. You will, also, look on your weighty charge with solemn concern, yet with resolute trust in the living God, and ardent desire to bring them to him.

J. L.

Glasgow, March 4th, 1816.

Mr dear Sir,—By a variety of circumstances connected with the sacrament at C— my answer has been deferred. I look forward with desire and hope to the solemnity with you, and am willing to go as far as my strength will permit in the services you mention. But of late I have had much labour beyond the usual course, and feel the effect so far as requires me to be cautious. I dare not, therefore, positively engage for the Sabbath evening, unless it be, to use moderate language, imperiously necessary.

I am just returned from a public service, wherein a minister from the country has given us a display of privileges, glaring and overloaded, with little of the spirituality of those privileges, and nothing at all of the difficulty or conflict connected with them, and without calling us to almost any account, excepting gross despisers who may be presumed to be absent. How often, and with how many different notes, is the lullaby sung, the result of which is a sleeping sanctuary, joined with the silly simpering smile of an assumed enjoyment of things really unknown and unfelt, and joined with ill-nature and malignity against any untoward wight [i.e., person] who may be hardy enough to attempt to break in upon the sweet dream! But there is One who walks with fiery eyes in the midst of the candlesticks; and who though a Lamb is also a Lion, able to sound an awakening alarm in his own holy mountain; and who can, when he pleases, bring to view the spectacle of sinners in Zion afraid in earnest, and of hypocrites surprised in spite of shame with a fearfulness which mocks every false attempt to soothe and plaster it over. Of him may we catch and retain a true sight, that we may be daunted or seduced by no multitude of the criers of a false and ill-accented proclamation of peace. I wish I were endued with power from on high, to give some conveyance here, and in other places, to the voice of Him who can make the dead to start from their graves of vile carnality, worldly confident daring, and foul, putrifying hypocrisy, while, as with a lady hand, he manages broken bones and broken hearts.

I desire to be more earnest than ever, in seeking to bring on, by prayer and otherwise, times of light, power, and refreshing from the presence of the highest crowned Lord, who “sets one foot on the sea and another on the land,” and can when he pleases utter that lion-like voice, which shall annoy and conquer earth and hell, and shall shake the enemies’ kingdom to its deepest centre.

I hope for a meeting with you in the mountain of God, attended with blessings.

J. L.

Appropriating the Death of Christ

Selected from: John Love, Memorials of the Rev. John Love, D.D. (Glasgow, 1857–1858).

1. I am to distinguish between these two things—(1.) Christ’s so dying for me, as that, He having died, his death is offered to me, and there is nothing between me and my actually possessing the benefit of it, but my accepting of it; and (2.) Christ’s so dying for me, as that, He having died, his death is offered to me, not only so that I may take it, but that through virtue proceeding from this death I shall take it to myself; and that it shall turn out according to God’s ordination, that not only has Christ been offered to me, but, through my acceptance of that offer, it is made evident that Christ died in my stead. Now, the first of these two propositions I am bound to believe on God’s testimony in the gospel offer. But the second I am not to believe, (for I know not whether it is true or not,) till I believe, and know that I have believed in Christ: and then upon the same testimony I must believe it. I am only to believe that the offer is as full to me as though I were elected—as full as it is to any of the elect, and that there is no bar arising from God’s secret decree to hinder, that what is offered shall be mine in actual possession, if I accept of it,—as it is already mine in the offer and grant of a right to intermeddle with it. A beggar has a right to take what is held out to him. It is the same in this case as it is with regard to the light of the sun, or food, or medicine. God has really ordained in His decree, that, when these things are set before me, I shall either use them, and get the good of them, or shall obstinately refuse to take them, and so destroy myself. But this does not at all hinder the fulness of God’s offer of them: it is so full, that there is no impediment but my own will; so that, if I were willing, and would just now take them, then it would appear that it was ordained that I should get the good of them. Now, every sinner has as good a right to appropriate Christ, and His death, to himself, as he has to take the benefit of the sun’s light; although there is in both cases a decree, as to who shall, and who shall not, take the benefit of the grant. So that, on account of the difference of the event, it may be said that the grant is given to me in one way, and to another in another; and that Christ really, in the purpose of God, died only properly for those who shall, upon the offer, accept of him. The unsearchable power and wisdom of God appear in so ordering the event, as to correspond to his own design.

2. I am not first to feel myself willing to take Christ, and thence conclude that He died for me, and then to proceed upon that to take him. But I am, on the footing of God’s free grant, to proceed immediately to take him, and, when I have taken him, to believe that he is mine in actual possession; and thence to conclude, that he was mine in the decree of God. His dying for me as one of the elect, is not the ground of my faith: this only comes out by reflection upon the acting of my faith, after it is consummated.

3. True willingness to take Christ, is willingness to venture upon him, not on a secret apprehension of our election, but on the clear gospel offer and warrant given to us, not as elect persons, but as sinners of mankind.

4. Christ did put forth his saving virtue in dying, and all are invited to take home his death to themselves. But, all being unwilling, God has determined that some shall infallibly do so; and by his secret mysterious operation on the will He brings this about. But still the offer is not the less free to all, notwithstanding that ordination.