" DEAR SISTER, To Mrs. Webster, Leicester. Chapel Street, July 20, 1797. "I can only repeat, in other language, the sentiments contained in my wife's letter; and yet I am not willing (though much engaged and rather indisposed) to let the parcel go off without a few lines. Were I to view the event, of which your last letter gave us information, in an abstract manner, apart from those feelings which have their use in this world, I should consider it as peculiarly joyful, and matter of congratulation. You are exceedingly honored, and your children highly favored, nor could more have been wished for on their account; though we might have been desirous of their living in this world, as in a prison, in order to recommend the clemency and the service of their reconciled Lord to their fellow sinners, and in various ways to be useful to others. Yet, after all, you are bereaved, and nature must grieve; and even grace will only moderate and regulate your sorrow, without extinguishing it. I trust, however, you will not give way to the romantic kind of impatience called indulging grief; which, in reality, differs little from Jonah's saying, I do well to be angry even unto death. Even when the Lord, in his righteous sovereignty, takes from us those who are dear in the bonds of nature, but of whose future condition we cannot but entertain many uneasy apprehensions, submission is our bounden duty; and prayer for grace to enable us to submit, our proper business; with all other suitable means of turning the thoughts to other subjects, and from that which can only distress and tempt us, without any possibility of altering the divine appointments, which are doubtless wise, holy, and righteous, however they may appear to us. But, when we are deprived of those concerning whom we have scriptural confidence that they sleep in Jesus, the grieving of nature is so counterpoised by the joy of hope, that it may be expected, after a while, that we should not only submit to the will of God, but feel ourselves peculiarly thankful for such special mercies. When I think of the unnumbered dangers with which the world abounds, and the very small proportion of young persons who are seriously disposed; I think also with great satisfaction of the three children that I have lost, and who, I verily believe, are now in heaven: and though, for the sake of others, I rejoice perhaps more sensibly on account of some that survive, yet there is an anxiety and deduction felt there, from which the joy on the other account is free. Yet, at the time, I felt the loss, especially of one, very painfully. And, indeed, I can hardly conceive that we should be properly stimulated to do our duty to our children, if we had not that kind of affection for them which makes the loss very painful, though our best judgment sees abundant cause for gratitude.-Your case, it is true, will necessarily be attended with peculiar sensations; as you have lost your companion as well as your child...... Yet you may hope for peculiar supports: and I doubt not that, in time, the grace and consolations of God will soothe your sorrows, and a sort of melancholy sweetness will remain, seriously pleasing, frequently engaging your reflections, and issuing in grateful praises, and anticipation of that joyful meeting we are taught to expect with our relatives who have departed in the Lord. Your pain and anguish will gradually decrease; your satisfaction and gratitude increase continually......We shall be glad to see you, and do every thing in our power for your solace and comfort. I send a few books which I have lately published. One copy you will give, with my love, to Mr. Robinson, and dispose of the others as you have opportunity. "I remain, with great sincerity, "Your affectionate brother, "THOMAS SCOTT." ふ No. V. LETTERS TO A NIECE (HIS BROTHER'S DAUGHTER) WHO HAD SPENT SOME TIME AT OLNEY. ። DEAR NIECE, "I SUPPOSE my sister* has received before this time a pretty long letter, which I sent a few days before we received the parcel. I was indeed too dilatory in answering; but I had many peculiar hindrances. I was just at that time engaged about a sermon that I have lately published,† which was occasioned by many unpleasant circumstances, and produced me considerable employment. Truth in all things, and especially in divine things, lies in the middle between the extremes; but either extreme may accommodate the pride and lusts of men. Therefore men are fond of extremes, and when a man is reduced from one he is naturally prone (like the pendulum,) to vibrate as far into the other. Thus high churchmen sometimes vibrate into stiff dissenters, self-righteous pharisees into antinomians, and confident arminians into rigid Calvinists. This is human nature. But true grace disposes a man to caution. Under the divine teaching, he trembles at every step lest Satan should seduce him he recedes from his principles in general gradually, and always with some degree of moderation: and values no notions further than he experiences their influence on his heart and conduct. Let this observation introduce my subject. : "My lot has been for some time, in this contentious age, so to steer between the disputing parties, as to be obnoxious to both, and pleasing to neither. The churchmen dislike me because I condescend so far to the dissenters; * See above, p. 53. "On Election and Final Perseverance:" see Life, p. 164 and the dissenters are not pleased that I do not quit the church. But especially I am obnoxious (so far as my littleness is known,) to the self-righteous and Arminians, because I will preach the doctrines of grace; and to the supralapsarians and antinomians, because I oppose the abuse of those doctrines, and insist upon the necessity of holiness of heart, and fruitfulness in good works. For the whole truth is so opposite to the pride of man on the one hand, and to the love of the world on the other, that neither party can bear it. Man may be prevailed on to sacrifice his pleasure or his profit to his pride, or his pride to his love of pleasure; that is, one idol to another; but nothing except grace can make him sacrifice all of them to the Lord Jesus.-You know what effect my ministry produced at Olney: the same, in great measure, has been the effect in London. I seem to myself like the heavy axe among the carpenter's tools, which, when it has been employed in hewing one knotty block, must hew another and another to the end; and never is to be employed in any other work -being unfit for the office of a plane or a chisel. I was aware of this, in some measure, when I came hither; but I deemed myself called in God's providence to this place: and therefore, at length, accepted the proposal, though not without telling the governors my apprehensions. Notwithstanding the influence of party, and the prevalence of a superficial, notional, and erroneous religion, for some time I had more acceptance and less opposition than I expected: but, going on in my downright, plain, alarming, inviting, distinguishing, practical strain, a secret dislike was working in the minds of several: and, while the opposite party were watching their opportunity, some circumstances gave them the wished-for occasion: the cry of Arminianism was propagated: they who could not bear the practical preaching, for reasons too visible, laid hold of this clamor, and insinuated prejudices into the minds of numbers who could not judge for themselves; and almost suddenly my congregation was reduced to about half the number, and I verily thought I should have been driven from my post. At that crisis, having given previous notice, I penned, preached, and published a sermon entitled, The Doctrines, &c. It was very well received by the ministers and professors in general in town, and had some considerable influence in the congregation but the occasion was too favorable, and too assiduously improved, and preju dices and suspicions had sunk too deep to be generally removed. The views I avowed concerning the sufficiency of the death of Christ revived the clamor; and many have withdrawn, and I am generally unpopular. However the governors are steadily my friends, and I have many others, and I am assured that I am useful, and the post is important: the cause I know is that of truth, of righteousness, and of God. Much attention is excited; and a successful testimony cannot fail of being extensively beneficial, and introductory to further usefulness: and, even though I should be driven out, if it be only for faithfulness and firmness, united with prudence and meekness, all must be well. But it is probable that I shall be able to maintain my post. In the mean time, besides my congregation and occasional preaching, I visit when I please, and as I please, the patients; where I address five hundred or more, in the course of the year, of the most profligate characters in the kingdom, in my plain manner; and cannot but hope for good. When I have an opportunity I will send you some sermons, and another letter which shall have another subject than self. Yet you will know how to draw benefit from this subject. The power of godliness alone can profit us, or excite the opposition of Satan and the world. I can only add that we are all tolerably well, and join in love to you all, parents and children. Wishing and praying for every blessing to you, "I am your affectionate friend and relation, 64 DEAR SUSAN, "THOMAS SCOTT." "Chapel-street, June 21, 1787. As "I was in Bucks* when your letter arrived, and therefore did not see it till above a week after. Since my retarn I have had several engagements, and seem to have embraced the first leisure hour to write a line to you. I have mentioned Bucks, I would just inform you that the seed I was so long sowing there was not all thrown away; nay much seems now to be springing up, especially among the young people at Ravenstone. I trust the religious people there are of the right stamp; and that they are saying every one to his neighbor and to his brother, * Life, p. 177; and below, letter to Dr. Ryland, dated Jan. 20, 1787. + Life, p. 170. |