Letter of Romaine to a discouraged servant of God
Dec. 3, 1791. My very dear Friend,—I have a long letter from H. full of complaints. I know one, whose very soul is delighted with hearing such complaints; for they are the breathings of his own Spirit in the heart of his redeemed, and therefore sent that Christ may be more necessary and more precious: but indeed, my friend, you legalize them, and make those things distressing which were only intended to be humbling. The cause of every possible complaint is in you, whether you feel it or not. You have an abyss
of corruption; so have I, and perhaps felt it deeper than ever you have, or will feel it. But I have a teacher who makes this whole body of sin profitable, and to the increase of my faith, and to the magnifying the grace of my almighty Saviour. My daily lesson is to carry my burden to him, and he carries both me and it: and while we thus go on lovingly together, he often lets me look into the hell within, but he keeps my conscience sprinkled with his atoning blood, and even then I do feel its sovereign virtue to cleanse me from all my sins, if they were ten million times more and greater than they are. Thus believing, yet groaning under my dreadful load, I hear the Father's testimony, and I honour it: "Thy sins and iniquities will I remember no more."
You met an old saint at Sandwell; and you wished to be in his case. I do not. I suppose you mean F. C. I know him well. I dare not unchristian him. But I thank my God for his leading, I think, in a more gospel way, and I am sure a safer. Carrying about me a body of sin and death, I groan under it being burdened; it is my continual plague night and day; it makes me loathe myself, and repent in dust and ashes. Hereby I am kept sensible of my wants, my unworthiness, my helplessness, my vileness: and through grace these things are made useful to bind me closer to my beloved. They render him absolutely necessary to my desperate case, and preach that self-abhorrence which makes Christ very precious. This should be the happy improvement of all the bitter things you write against yourself: in my judgment and experience they make for you. Under the law, they speak guilt and misery: under the Gospel, the magnify the grace and salvation of our God. I observe, also, that you attend too much, by far, to what others (perhaps professing believers) say of you; and it brings distress upon you, and hurts your spirits. But they are not your judges; neither are they competent. Thus I read–brethren, let every man, wherein he is called, therin abide with God. God can be with you. God canhelp you to glorify Him, by your abiding in your calling. He has promised it. In a cottage in Wales you would be out of your place and duty. You would carry yourself there. Retirement and will-worship would make you feel more the plague of your own heart, and your cottage would be a very hell upon earth: because you had left the station wherein God and His help and His comforts, were to be found. Indeed, Sir R., you have no justifiable ground of distress, either from God or man. You know the truth of what I say, but still the effect remains. YOUR HEART IS NOT PERFECTLY SETTLED IN THE GOSPEL REST. He that settled me, He alone can settle you. There comes in another part of Christian friendship, which I do exercise and am diligent in. The prayer of faith availeth much–to keep you,as you are, still full of complaints, but improving them in a free spirit to the glory of the Savior, a child of Adam, deserving hell; a believer in Jess, an heir of heaven. My He keep you by His mighty power till He bring you save to His promised heaen! William Romaine
Dec. 3, 1791. My very dear Friend,—I have a long letter from H. full of complaints. I know one, whose very soul is delighted with hearing such complaints; for they are the breathings of his own Spirit in the heart of his redeemed, and therefore sent that Christ may be more necessary and more precious: but indeed, my friend, you legalize them, and make those things distressing which were only intended to be humbling. The cause of every possible complaint is in you, whether you feel it or not. You have an abyss
of corruption; so have I, and perhaps felt it deeper than ever you have, or will feel it. But I have a teacher who makes this whole body of sin profitable, and to the increase of my faith, and to the magnifying the grace of my almighty Saviour. My daily lesson is to carry my burden to him, and he carries both me and it: and while we thus go on lovingly together, he often lets me look into the hell within, but he keeps my conscience sprinkled with his atoning blood, and even then I do feel its sovereign virtue to cleanse me from all my sins, if they were ten million times more and greater than they are. Thus believing, yet groaning under my dreadful load, I hear the Father's testimony, and I honour it: "Thy sins and iniquities will I remember no more."
You met an old saint at Sandwell; and you wished to be in his case. I do not. I suppose you mean F. C. I know him well. I dare not unchristian him. But I thank my God for his leading, I think, in a more gospel way, and I am sure a safer. Carrying about me a body of sin and death, I groan under it being burdened; it is my continual plague night and day; it makes me loathe myself, and repent in dust and ashes. Hereby I am kept sensible of my wants, my unworthiness, my helplessness, my vileness: and through grace these things are made useful to bind me closer to my beloved. They render him absolutely necessary to my desperate case, and preach that self-abhorrence which makes Christ very precious. This should be the happy improvement of all the bitter things you write against yourself: in my judgment and experience they make for you. Under the law, they speak guilt and misery: under the Gospel, the magnify the grace and salvation of our God. I observe, also, that you attend too much, by far, to what others (perhaps professing believers) say of you; and it brings distress upon you, and hurts your spirits. But they are not your judges; neither are they competent. Thus I read–brethren, let every man, wherein he is called, therin abide with God. God can be with you. God canhelp you to glorify Him, by your abiding in your calling. He has promised it. In a cottage in Wales you would be out of your place and duty. You would carry yourself there. Retirement and will-worship would make you feel more the plague of your own heart, and your cottage would be a very hell upon earth: because you had left the station wherein God and His help and His comforts, were to be found. Indeed, Sir R., you have no justifiable ground of distress, either from God or man. You know the truth of what I say, but still the effect remains. YOUR HEART IS NOT PERFECTLY SETTLED IN THE GOSPEL REST. He that settled me, He alone can settle you. There comes in another part of Christian friendship, which I do exercise and am diligent in. The prayer of faith availeth much–to keep you,as you are, still full of complaints, but improving them in a free spirit to the glory of the Savior, a child of Adam, deserving hell; a believer in Jess, an heir of heaven. My He keep you by His mighty power till He bring you save to His promised heaen! William Romaine