04.02. Meditations 31 to 60 contd
MEDITATION LII.
July 20, 1758. To make my situation more pleasant, in this meditation, let me run a comparison between the sea-life, and the Christian life—which is properly called a warfare.
1. Then, we embark all in one common cause. In like manner, have all Christians one interest.
2. We leave our own country, our friends, and our native land. In like manner, must every Christian leave his father’s house, and his old friends.
3. Sometimes we enter into his majesty’s service against the opinion and inclination of our nearest friends. In like manner, sometimes, in becoming disciples of Jesus, we must deny our nearest relationships, and dearest friends.
4. We do not entangle ourselves with the affairs of the land, as we belong to the sea. In like manner, must the saint not entangle himself in the affairs of this life, that he may please Him who has chosen him to be a spiritual soldier.
5. We are all maintained by the King. In like manner, are all Christians are maintained by the throne of Heaven.
6. We come here neither uncalled or unwelcome. In like manner, none that come to Jesus, shall ever be cast out.
7. Some are drafted and pressed into the service of their king and country. In like manner, nothing less than almighty power can make the sinner submit to Jesus.
8. We undergo a great change of life when we forsake the land, and dwell on the ocean. But they share in a greater change, who are taken from darkness into light, from the power of Satan, to the living God.
9. Our way of walking must be changed, else we shall have many a fall on the deck. In like manner, Christians must not walk as other men, else, they shall not keep on the path of life.
10. Our food must be changed, and adapted to our way of life. In like manner, must Christians live as well as walk by faith, and feed on heavenly food.
11. Our provisions must be of such a nature as to keep for a long time free of putrefaction, and in every climate. In like manner, must the saint feed on Jesus, the bread of life, who can nourish in every condition below.
12. We must forego our easy life, and expect to be dashed by the briny wave, and beaten by the storm. In like manner, Christians must not expect to lounge about in the lap of pleasure—in a world where they are to have tribulation and pain.
13. We must keep continual watch for the safety of the ship, and the crew dare never all sleep at once. In like manner, must the Christian watch continually, watch unto all prayer, and be ever on his guard.
14. Our very dialect distinguishes us from the inhabitants on land. In like manner, should the Christian be known as different from the men of the world—by his innocent, useful, edifying, and godly discourse, managed always with discretion.
15. We have a discipline peculiar to ourselves, and pretty severe. In like manner, has the Christian church from her Lord a government and discipline which none can alter or abrogate.
16. We must not expect to leave the tempestuous element until the war is finished, and peace proclaimed. In like manner, the Christian needs not expect to be disengaged from trouble and turmoil until the spiritual war is ended, and eternal peace brought in.
17. We must always be ready to engage the enemy, as we don’t know where and when he shall attack. In like manner, the Christian, being in the midst of his enemies, must always be ready for the battle.
18. We are provided with armor and ammunition for the day of battle at the king’s cost. In like manner, is every saint with the whole armor of God.
19. Sometimes a battle at sea is made more dreadful because of the darkness of the night. In like manner, sometimes, in the darkness of desertion, the saint is surrounded with all his cruel foes.
20. We must fight before we get the victory. In like manner, must the Christian conquer before he obtain the crown.
21. We are provided with medical men to give assistance to the wounded and diseased. In like manner, have the saints a tender-hearted Physician, who binds up the broken heart, cures the painful wound, and pours in the healing balm.
22. We have a steward who gives us our provisions daily, and not all at once. Yet we have no uneasiness, knowing that he has plenty, and will not let us starve. In like manner, the saints, either in respect of spiritual provision, or daily bread, need never be disquieted for futurity, since Jesus is appointed of the Father, a steward to all the children of God, since all the fullness of the Godhead is treasured up in him for their supply. And since, to their unspeakable profit, all their provision, of one or other kind, is not given to them at once—but kept in his hand.
23. We have people among us of all nations, English, Scots, Irish, Dutch, Swedes, Danes, French, Spaniards, Germans, Swiss, Italians, Russians, Indians, etc.—of all dispositions, of all employments, and of all ages. In like manner, the true church is composed of all nations, people, and languages, and of young and old.
24. We are appareled in a different manner from the men on land. In like manner, Christians are covered, both with the justifying righteousness of Christ, and with the righteousness of saints.
25. Officers, men, and boys, are allowed the same quantity of provisions in the same time. In like manner, the fullness of the covenant, the fatness of God’s house—is alike free to all the members of Christ.
26. We have several officers here, without whom we could not be governed. In like manner, in the church, there are officers for the government of the whole body.
27. We are in the midst of dangers, and yet are preserved. In like manner, the church, like a lily among thorns, grows and is not choked. The church is like a bush burning—but not consumed; sometimes persecuted by men—but never forsaken by God.
28. In a voyage, we are cut off from all the world, and have no communication with any. In like manner, the church and the people of God shall dwell alone, not mingle with the people, nor be reckoned among the nations.
29. Every loss we sustain in an engagement is borne by government. But when we conquer, we divide the spoil, and share the prize-money among us. In like manner, God supports his people in their spiritual warfare, makes up every loss, enriches them with the spoils of their enemies, and at last puts palms in their hands, and crowns on their heads.
30. When the war is ended, and peace restored, we retire with all our acquisitions, to receive the congratulations of our friends, and enjoy ourselves in peace and tranquility as long as we shall live. In like manner, at death we trample on our last enemy, leave the field with triumph, go to the blessed society of saints and angels, receive a crown of immortal glory—and are happy beyond expression, beyond conception, in the enjoyment of God and the Lamb for evermore!
MEDITATION LIII.
July 22, 1758.
Now to my grief I am among sinners; and it pains my heart that those with whom I am concerned in one vessel and in one interest—should so sin against God. Though there were no wickedness committed in this ship, yet how does it prevail through the whole British fleets with which I am connected; but though I were out of the navy, yet I am still concerned with Britain; though out of Britain, I am still in the world, and therefore concerned with the whole inhabitants thereof. Now I see my sorrow for sin is not so universal as it ought to be. For while I lament great sins, gross abominations, and detestable crimes—I am apt to overlook mental corruptions and natural depravity—which is the spring of all. Again, it is too contracted, in that I confine my grief to the wretches who are daily in my view; for though the crew here were all saints, yet how, through the whole fleet, have officers and men all corrupted their way! or though the whole fleet were innocent, yet how through Britain, by her armies, and men of all ranks, is the divine law broken with impunity! But though Britain were righteous, yet what wickedness against the majesty of Heaven is committed through the world!
O contracted sorrow for sin! to grieve for nothing but what I see; as if the glory of God were not alike dear to him in all places; or as if he were not offended at sin on every shore, in every land, and in every heart! Though what I see and hear deserves my heartfelt tears, yet I should continue the flood of tears, because iniquity overflows the universe, because the whole world lies in iniquity, and the earth groans under the sinful inhabitants thereof. Though the enemies of God may not be always in my sight as now some of them are, yet they are always in the sight of the God of Heaven—sinning against him who is everywhere present! My sorrow therefore should continually be before me, and the shame of my face ever cover me; and my unremitting request should be, and shall be—that the knowledge of the Lord may cover the earth, as the waters cover the sea.
MEDITATION LIV.
St. Helens, July 29, 1758. This is a common affliction in war—that whoever conquers at last, in the mean time many on both sides lose their life, or suffer by imprisonment, as these poor men, who carry the effects of their long confinement, and scanty allowance, in their countenance. Their meager looks tell they have not been nourished by the bounty of their own sovereign, under whose flag they fought. But now, when escaped from their cells, they betake not themselves to a slothful, indolent, and easy life—but, with redoubled ardor, fly again to the warfare, eager to be revenged on their enemies, and take those as prisoners—whose prisoners they once were. Even so the soldier, that in the Christian warfare (and all his life is one continued war) is taken captive by Satan, is cast down by some temptation, and overcome by some lust; who is imprisoned in carnality, whose iron gate is despair, and the chains and fetters which bind the prisoners are insensibility, and impenitence of heart; while Satan, to keep all secure, stands sentry himself. In like manner, when such a one is recovered from his captivity, is restored to liberty, by him who takes the prey from the terrible, and delivers the captive—how does his holy indignation rise against sin, and especially that sin especially which had overcome him! As he had formerly gone backward, now he runs in the way of righteousness, and studies that his path may be like the shining light, that shines more and more unto the perfect day. None has—a greater hatred of sin than he—a greater zeal for the glory of God—a greater jealousy over himself—and a greater compassion for those who groan under the assaults of Satan, and swellings of sin. His soul disease is removed, and being fed and feasted with the bread of life—he grows strong as Samson for the war. Every wound which he received when taken captive—is healed by the balm of Gilead which is poured in by the Physician of souls. And he is filled with joy by the sweet assurance, that none of all the children of God shall die in prison, but with full triumph, and loud Hosanna, shall at last enter the realms of everlasting day!
MEDITATION LV, SHIP DAMAGED AND BEGINNING TO SINK Under sail from Cherbourg.
How sweet is life—for which a man will part with his all! When these two ships, which my anxious eyes beheld, ran into one another—from the smaller vessel which seemed in greatest danger, how did everyone fly, and never look behind! One comes out half naked, but finds no cold; another, in getting into the other ship, catches a bruise or a wound, but feels no pain until afterwards. I see, then, that man needs no admonition to preserve his temporal life, or avoid bodily danger. But how do they sleep on in sin—until awaked in everlasting agonies!
"Fly from the wrath to come," is the divine admonition to all; but a raging and a roaring tempest, a sinking vessel, and a swelling wave, are more prevalent with men to attempt their escape—than all the terrors of the Lord, and the prospect of future wrath and eternal torment. But some may be discouraged to escape from the wrath to come, because they have so long followed the ways of sin. Yet this, instead of deterring them, should determine them to make greater efforts to escape. Tell the affrighted crew, that because they are in danger, they must dwell in danger sedately, and let themselves drown without disturbance, since it seems to be their fate. Such an advice would seem the language of a madman—which advice they never will accept. They will make the more haste the greater their danger, and the greater speed to deliver themselves the nearer they seem to destruction. Yes, they will attempt to make their escape, though they should perish in the attempt. They will rather attempt to escape—than sit still and perish. O that men, the worst of men, would follow their example! For if they abide in their sins—they must perish; and though they fail in their attempts to escape—they can but perish.
Again, a man fast asleep could not have been concerned in all the confusion these men were in, but would have sunk like a stone in the mighty waters. But all who are awake see danger, and endeavor to accomplish their escape. So those that are in a natural state are spiritually asleep—and see no danger until they plunge into the flames of hell! But the one who is awake to eternity, sees his danger, and flies from the wrath to come! There is as great difference between a man in a renewed and unrenewed state—as between a man fast asleep and fully awake.
Moreover, we see that these men minded nothing but the saving of their life. They left all behind them, even their most precious things, and made their escape. So, when a soul seeks to be found in Christ, not having his own righteousness, he counts all things but loss and rubbish, even the things he had counted gain before—for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord. He sets his eye on the unseen world, and secures his eternal interest there. Looking on the present world as a shattered vessel that cannot long carry him safely, but must sink him at last—he sees that it is his highest wisdom to escape the leaky vessel, into the safe ark of the covenant, which keeps above the swelling floods of destruction. And finally, he sets his affections on heavenly things, and anticipates a little of that joy and serenity, which shall take place in the world to come, when storms and tempests cease!
MEDITATION LVI.
Under sail, August 18, 1758.
How often have we cause to cry out of the cruelty of men! Mankind, allied to one another by blood—have more ingenuity to destroy each other, than all the beasts of the forest! No sooner were these poor soldiers (who never met before, and only meet now that they may kill each other) within the reach of mutual destruction, but they fall to fighting, and deprive each other of their life, and send souls into the eternal unseen world. Cannons roar like the destructive thunders—and all the instruments of war are set a sounding terror and dismay.
PITY has no outlet from the human bosom, until the enemies are all killed, or yield as prisoners. How many souls, by the unsheathed and naked sword, are sent naked into the eternal unseen world! Unprepared for their last moments, they have not a quiet moment at last to prepare for death; but are hurried into their last, unalterable state at once, with a few melting groans. What a piteous sight is the field of battle! The very ground is plowed with the irresistible cannon-balls. Or if the battle borders on a forest, the trees are scarred with continual firing, and the neighboring hills echo with the noise—the confused noise of war, while the shriekings and groanings of the deadly wounded add to the horrors of the day.
Such are the contests of rulers; such is the vile ambition of kings—who purchase elbow-room to their territories, at the expense of their subjects’ lives! But if the war of mortals is so terrible to one another, what must that day be when God shall rise up to the battle—to rid himself of his enemies, and ease himself of his adversaries? When his angry countenance shall kindle the heavens above, and set the earth on fire beneath? When the thunders of his right hand shall fill hell with universal trembling? When a fiery stream issues from his flaming throne; which shall affrighten the human race, being summoned to make their appearance before the final judgment? No pity, no compassion then! No mercy, no forgiveness there! If men are cut off by the weapons of war, by the hand of frail mortals; how must they perish under the stroke of Omnipotence, which shall reach to the soul in all her powers? when his almighty hand takes hold of, and whets the glittering sword, and swears he lives forever—to punish his enemies forever?
O that men were wise, and would consider their latter end! O that men would throw down the weapons of their rebellion, and fight under the Captain of salvation! Then would they be happy in this world—and in the world to come!
MEDITATION LVII.
St. Cas, Sept. 12, 1756.
(Our forces having made a descent on the coast of France, the enemy assembled their forces, before whom our little army retreated. But while the greater part of us escaped, the enemy killed or made prisoners of some 1400 men, in the two hour battle.)
Ah, mournful day! what pathetic sights, what melting sounds have I seen and heard by sea and land this day! My heart bleeds for the men of war, who boldly shed their blood. For though their scanty number was overpowered by the enemy—yet their courage was conspicuous to the last. Ah, doleful event of one fatal day! Many, mirthful and cheerful in the morning—lay gasping at noon—and are clay-cold by the evening twilight! My heartstrings are pierced with pain, while I remember the anguish of their last moments! They fall, but none to lift them up; they groan, but no kindly sympathizer; they die, and there is no tender-hearted mourner, none to lament them. The little army is broken by superior numbers, and take to flight; but where can they fly? A victorious enemy is in front of them, rocks on every side, and a raging sea behind them. Some tried to escape into the water—and are shot while wading for life, or perish in the waves!
How vain the confidence of man! How empty the boast of invincible courage! Let men remember that God gives the victory; and that at his frown heroes fall, and armies fly.
Methinks I see the yet more awful, universal, and conclusive day—when the heavens shall open in tremendous thunders, when the dreadful trumpet, with louder sounds than ever echoed from the martial plains, shall raise the sleeping dust, and the tremendous Judge descend in flaming vengeance on his fiery throne; before whom the nations shall be assembled, and by whom the final sentence passed. This is the decision that shall concern the victors and the vanquished—the survivors and the slain—sovereigns and their subjects—yes, the whole world and myself!
MEDITATION LVIII.
Portsmouth Harbor, November 1, 1758. Did men look but a little towards God, and into themselves, it would be their wisdom. But true wisdom can never shine where saving grace does not dwell. There are some men astonishingly saved from deadly dangers. They are standing monuments of singular mercy, when numbers were dropping down around them, when instruments of death were rattling thick about them, like the hail from the thunder-cloud, and bullets falling like drops of rain—and yet they are preserved safe among the dying crowd. And there are others who have still a more narrow escape—for a bullet breaks one of their bones—which might have cut the thread of their life. Or a sword wounds an extremity—which might have pierced the heart and dislodged the soul.
Through the whole war, they have a kindly remembrance of their singular preservation, and God’s special mercy to them. But, O chilling thought! how soon do these very people forget their great deliverer, show not the least gratitude to God—but return to sin, and proceed from evil to worse! Had any other soldier been a means of their preservation, they had displayed so much gratitude as never to forget it. But it was God who preserved them—and they display so much of the sinner, the abandoned sinner, as never to remember it, never to acknowledge it! They pursue their sinful practices, as if their life had at first been given, and preserved when in danger—for no other purpose than to run into wickedness.
These men are the enemies of God. They have been hungry and he has fed them. They have been thirsty and he has given them water to drink. They have been in disease, and he has recovered them. They have been in danger, and he has preserved them. Therefore, if they continue still his enemies—he will heap coals of fire on their head, while his kindness shall be renowned forever. Where God’s mercies have no effect—his judgments shall without fail have most terrible effect at last. Since I am a child of many mercies, may gratitude write them, in indelible characters, on the table of my heart!
MEDITATION LIX.
Nov. 3, 1758.
O how glorious and irresistible is the word of grace, when it comes accompanied with divine power—the word which turns a sinner from his wickedness to God! Fire and sword cannot convert; war and shipwreck cannot reclaim; dangers and deliverance cannot reform; mercies and judgments cannot change the man. But one verse in the holy scriptures, a sentence or paragraph in a pious treatise, or an expression in a sermon—backed with the divine blessing, and sent home by the Spirit of God—can prick to the very heart, overpower the whole soul, and open his eyes towards God, himself, and eternity! Towards God, to see his holiness and indignation against sin! Towards himself, to see his desperate and deplorable state in such a gulf of impurity and raging enmity against God! Towards eternity, to see his vast concerns and interests there—and that they are of another kind than he once dreamed of. Once he thought of nothing but social gatherings, balls, and the theater; of revelings and parties of pleasure; of knowing and being known; of money, advancements, and commissions from his employer; of grand appearance, expensive houses, splendid clothes, and high-sounding titles. But now he sees that—judgment awaits all his actions—eternity treads on the heels of time—and that there is a world to come! These things cast out the vain and trifling phantoms that engrossed all his attention before—and give him just and proper ideas of everything around. And this great and wonderful change, which makes him account everything loss, rubbish and dross—in comparison of the excellency of the knowledge of Christ and the unseen eternal world—is effected by a very word—that the excellency of the power may be seen to be of God; while others hear thousands of such words, and continue in impenitence.
Though a man were thrown into hell, and saw and suffered all the torments of the damned, for years and ages—and was then brought up again to the land of the living, to the place of hope—yet all would be to no avail. For without the blessing of the Most High on the means of grace, he would not accept of salvation, nor receive the Savior. This is evident in those who have a foretaste of the terrors of hell, by the horrors of an awakened conscience, which, instead of bringing them nearer to God—drives them farther from him, and plunges them into the tremendous deeps of despair.
Though the words of peace may be more glorious from mount Zion to those who have heard the threatenings of mount Sinai, and though the thunderings of the law may precede to prepare his way; yet still God comes to a soul in the still small voice of the gospel. Then happy are those who know the joyful sound, for faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God. By what experience shall they support their plea, who are for free will, and a kind of self-agency, in the work of conversion, when we see thousands and ten thousands perish, although it is natural for all men to wish to be happy! The Arminian will say, because they will not, therefore they are not happy. But the scripture says, "No man can come to me except the Father, who has sent me, draws him." Now, whether I am to believe the Arminian or God—let all the world judge.
MEDITATION LX.
Nov. 4, 1758.
It is requisite at certain times to bring ships in to the dock—that they may be cleaned, caulked, and fitted out for sea again. This is indeed attended with trouble—as guns, ammunition, stores, provisions, and ballast—must be removed, that the ship may easily be got into dock, and a proper inspection made into those places which need repair; and that stores, provisions, and everything needful, may be completed for a cruise or a voyage.
Then how much more necessity have Christians, who steer on a more tempestuous sea than the watery element—to inspect and test themselves! For such serious and solemn work, they should set a day apart for prayer and examination; when, that they may know their situation, they should look into their heart and affections, their life and conversation, their thoughts, the ends and motives of all their actions. Assisted by the light of revelation, they should see, and comparing themselves with the rule of the word, they should understand—what is wrong, what is lacking, what is decayed, and what is defective. They ought to search into the state of their soul, and the condition of their graces; and also see what sins have been most predominant in them. Surely those who are cast into wicked company, and are daily hearing and seeing sin—have much to mourn over!
Such an exercise is highly requisite in all the candidates for glory. They are also, from the royal treasury of grace—which is stored up in the Son of God—to take in provisions of every kind, and all sorts of armor—such as the sword of the Spirit, the helmet of salvation, the shield of faith, the anchor of hope, and the compass of truth; as they must steer over roaring oceans, struggle through storms and tempests, and fight though foes all along their journey; and thus, spiritually refitted, proceed in their voyage to Immanuel’s land!