A Brighter Day Begins with His Word.

Wesley, John, 1703-1791 • SECTION 81

Part 81

← The works of the Rev. John Wesley, Vol. 07 (of 32)

*_Theophilus._ No; but I would have you judge of your state of love, by these angelical tempers, and not by any transient fervour. For just as far as you are freed from the folly of all earthly affections, from all disquiet, trouble and complaint about this or that, just so far is the spirit of love in you. For divine love is a new life, and new nature, and introduces you into a new world; it puts an end to all your former opinions and tempers, it opens new senses in you, and makes you see high to be low, and low to be high; wisdom to be foolishness, and foolishness wisdom; it makes prosperity and adversity, praise and dispraise, to be equally nothing. _When I was a child_, saith the apostle, _I thought as a child, I spake as a child, but when I became a man, I put away childish things_. Whilst man is under the power of nature, governed only by worldly wisdom, his life (however old he may be) is quite childish; every thing about him only awakens childish thoughts, and pursuits in him: all that he sees and hears, all that he desires or fears, likes or dislikes; that which he gets, and that which he loses; that which he hath, and that which he hath not, serve only to carry him from this fiction of evil, to that fiction of good, from one vanity of peace, to another vanity of trouble. But when divine love is in the soul, all childish images of good and evil are done away, and all the _sensibility_ of them is lost, as the stars lose their visibility, when the sun is risen.

And now we are fairly brought to the one great practical point, on which our proficiency in the spirit of love depends. Namely, _that all we are, and all we have from Adam, as fallen_, must be given up absolutely, if divine love is to be brought forth in us. For as all that we are by nature, is in full contrariety to this divine love, so a death to ourselves is its only cure, and nothing else can make it subservient to good.

_Theogenes._ I now sufficiently see, how man stands in the midst of heaven and hell, under an absolute necessity of belonging wholly to the one, or wholly to the other, as soon as this cover of materiality is taken off from him.

For matter is his only wall of partition between them, he is equally nigh to both of them: and as light and love make all the difference there is between heaven and hell, so nothing but light and love wrought in his soul, can possibly keep hell out of it, or bring heaven into it.

I now also see the full truth, and certainty of what you said of the nature and power of divine love; _viz._ that it brings perfect peace and joy, a freedom from all disquiet, making every thing to rejoice in itself. That wherever it comes, it comes as the blessing and happiness of every natural life; as the restorer of every lost perfection; a redeemer from all evil; a fulfiller of all righteousness. So that I am now a thousand times more than ever athirst after the spirit of love. I am willing to sell all, and buy it; its blessing is so great, and the want of it so dreadful, that I am even afraid of lying down in my bed, till every power of my soul is given up to it, wholly possessed and governed by it.

_Theophilus._ You have reason for all you say, _Theogenes_; for were we truly affected with things, as they are our real good or evil, we should be much more afraid of having the serpents of covetousness, envy, pride, and wrath, kept alive within us, than of being shut up in a pest-house, or cast into a dungeon of venomous beasts. On the other hand, we should look upon the lofty eloquence, and proud virtue of a _Cicero_, but as the blessing of storm and tempest, when compared with the heavenly tranquility of that meek and lowly heart, to which our Redeemer has called us.

_Theogenes._ I could almost say, that you have shewn me more than enough of this monster of self, though I would not be without this knowledge of it for half the world. But now, Sir, what must I do to be saved from the mouth of this lion, for he is the depth of all subtlety, and deceiveth the whole world. He can hide himself, under all the forms of goodness, he can watch and fast, write and instruct, pray much, and preach long, give alms to the poor, visit the sick, and yet often gets more life and strength, and a more _unmoveable abode_, in these forms of virtue, than he has in publicans and sinners.

Enjoin me therefore, whatever you please, all rules, methods, and practices will be welcome to me, if you judge them to be necessary in this matter.

_Theophilus._ There is no need of a number of practices, or methods. For to die to self, or to come from under its power, is not, cannot be done by any _active_ resistance we can make to it by the powers of nature. For nature can no more suppress itself, than wrath can heal wrath. So long as nature acts, nothing but natural acts are brought forth, and therefore the more labour of this kind, the more nature is fed and strengthened, with its own food.

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