John Wesley's journal, January 8, 1738: In the fullness of my heart, I wrote the
following words: - “By the most infallible of proofs,
inward feeling, I am convinced,
“1. Of unbelief; having no such faith in Christ as will
prevent my heart from being troubled; which it could not be, if I believed in
God, and rightly believed also in him:
“2. Of pride, throughout my life past; inasmuch as I thought
I had what I find I have not:
“3. Of gross irrecollection; inasmuch as in a storm I cry to
God every moment; in a calm, not:
“4. Of levity and luxuriancy of spirit, recurring whenever
the pressure is taken off, and appearing by my speaking words not tending to
edify; but most by my manner of speaking of my enemies.
“Lord, save, or I perish! Save me,
“1. By such a faith as implies peace in life and in death:
“2. By such humility, as may till my heart from this hour
for ever, with a piercing uninterrupted sense, Nihil est quod hactenus feci
(I have done nothing hitherto); having evidently built without a
foundation:
“3. By such a recollection as may cry to thee every moment,
especially when all is calm: Give me faith, or I die; give me a lowly spirit;
otherwise, mihi non sit suave vivere (Let life be a burden to me.)
“4. By steadiness, seriousness, sobriety of spirit;
avoiding, as fire, every word that tendeth not to edifying; and clever speaking
of any who oppose me, or sin against God, without all my own sins set in array
before my face.”
May 19, 1738: My brother had a second return of his
pleurisy. A few of us spent Saturday night in prayer. The next day, being
Whit-Sunday, after hearing Dr. Heylyn preach a truly Christian sermon, (on,
“They were all filled with the Holy Ghost:” “And so,” said he, “may all you be,
if it is not your own fault,”) and assisting him at the holy communion, (his
Curate being taken ill in the church,) I received the surprising news, that my
brother had found rest to his soul. His bodily strength returned also from that
hour. “Who is so great a God as our God?”
I preached at St. John’s, Wapping, at three, and at St.
Bennett’s, Paul’s-Wharf, in the evening At these churches, like. wise, I am to
preach no more. At St. Autholin’s I preached on the Thursday following. Monday,
Tuesday, and Wednesday, I had continual sorrow and heaviness in my heart: Something
of which I described, in the broken manner I was able, in the following letter
to a friend:
“O why is it, that so great, so wise, so holy a God will use
such an instrument as me! Lord, ‘let the dead bury their dead!’ But wilt thou
send the dead to raise the dead? Yea, thou sendest whom thou wilt send, and
showest mercy by whom thou wilt show mercy! Amen! Be it then according to thy
will! If thou speak the word, Judas shall cast out devils.
“I feel what you say, (though not enough,) for I am under
the same condemnation. I see that the whole law of God is holy, just, and good.
I know every thought, every temper of my soul, ought to bear God’s image and
superscription. But how am I fallen from the glory of God! I feel that ‘I am
sold under sin.’ I know, that I too deserve nothing but wrath, being full of
all abominations: And having no good thing in me, to atone for them, or to
remove the wrath of God. All my works, my righteousness, my prayers, need an
atonement for themselves. So that my mouth is stopped. I have nothing to plead.
God is holy, I am unholy. God is a consuming fire: I am altogether a sinner,
meet to be consumed.
“Yet I hear a voice (and is it not the voice of God?)
saying, ‘Believe, and thou shalt be saved. He that believeth is passed from
death unto life. God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son,
that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting
life.’
“O let no one deceive us by vain words, as if we had already
attained this faith! (That is, the proper Christian faith.) By its fruits we
shall know. Do we already feel ‘peace with God,’ and ‘joy in the Holy Ghost?’
Does ‘his Spirit bear witness with our spirit, that we are the children of
God?’ Alas, with mine He does not. Nor, I fear, with yours. O thou Savior of
men, save us from trusting in anything but Thee! Draw us after Thee! Let us be
emptied of ourselves, and then fill us with all peace and joy in believing; and
let nothing separate us from thy love, in time or in eternity.”
What occurred on Wednesday, May 24th, I think best to relate
at large, after premising what may make it the better understood. Let him that
cannot receive it ask of the Father of lights, that He would give more light to
him and me.
1. I believe, till I was about ten years old I had not
sinned away that “washing of the Holy Ghost” which was given me in baptism;
having been strictly educated and carefully taught, that I could only be saved
“by universal obedience, by keeping all the commandments of God;” in the
meaning of which I was diligently instructed. And those instructions, so far as
they respected outward duties and sins, I gladly received, and often thought
of. But all that was said to me of inward obedience, or holiness, I neither
understood nor remembered. So that I was indeed as ignorant of the true meaning
of the Law, as I was of the Gospel of Christ.
2. The next six or seven years were spent at school; where,
outward restraints being removed, I was much more negligent than before, even
of outward duties, and almost continually guilty of outward sins, which I knew
to be such, though they were not scandalous in the eye of the world. However, I
still read the Scriptures, and said my prayers, morning and evening. And what I
now hoped to be saved by, was, 1. Not being so bad as other people. 2. Having
still a kindness for religion. And, 3. Reading the Bible, going to church, and
saying my prayers.
3. Being removed to the University for five years, I still
said my prayers both in public and in private, and read, with the Scriptures,
several other books of religion, especially comments on the New Testament. Yet
I had not all this while so much as a notion of inward holiness; nay, went on
habitually, and, for the most part, very contentedly, in some or other known sin:
Indeed, with some intermission and short struggles, especially before and after
the holy communion, which I was obliged to receive thrice a year. I cannot well
tell what I hoped to be saved by now, when I was continually sinning against
that little light I had; unless by those transient fits of what many Divines
taught me to call repentance.
4. When I was about twenty-two, my father pressed me to
enter into holy orders. At the same time, the providence of God directing me to
Kempis’s “Christian Pattern,” I began to see, that true religion was seated in
the heart, and that God’s law extended to all our thoughts as well as words and
actions. I was, however, very angry at Kempis, for being too strict; though I
read him only in Dean Stanhope’s translation. Yet I had frequently much
sensible comfort in reading him, such as I was an utter stranger to before: And
meeting likewise with a religious friend, which I never had till now, I began
to alter the whole form of my conversation, and to set in earnest upon a new
life. I set apart an hour or two a day for religious retirement. I communicated
every week. I watched against all sin, whether in word or deed. I began to aim
at, and pray for, inward holiness. So that now, “doing so much, and living so
good a life,” I doubted not but I was a good Christian.
5. Removing soon after to another College, I executed a
resolution which I was before convinced was of the utmost importance, - shaking
off at once all my trifling acquaintance. I began to see more and more the value
of time. I applied myself closer to study. I watched more carefully against
actual sins; I advised others to be religious, according to that scheme of
religion by which I modeled my own life. But meeting now with Mr. Law’s
“Christian Perfection” and “Serious Call,” although I was much offended at many
parts of both, yet they convinced me more than ever of the exceeding height and
breadth and depth of the law of God. The light flowed in so mightily upon my
soul, that every thing appeared in a new view. I cried to God for help, and
resolved not to prolong the time of obeying Him as I had never done before. And
by my continued endeavor to keep His whole law, inward and outward, to the
utmost of my power, I was persuaded that I should be accepted of Him, and that
I was even then in a state of salvation.
6. In 1730 I began visiting the prisons; assisting the poor
and sick in town; and doing what other good I could, by my presence, or my
little fortune, to the bodies and souls of all men. To this end I abridged
myself of all superfluities, and many that are called necessaries of life. I
soon became a by-word for so doing, and I rejoiced that my name was cast out as
evil. The next spring I began observing the Wednesday and Friday Fasts,
commonly observed in the ancient Church; tasting no food till three in the
afternoon. And now I knew not how to go any farther. I diligently strove
against all sin. I omitted no sort of self-denial which I thought lawful: I
carefully used, both in public and in private, all the means of grace at all
opportunities. I omitted no occasion of doing good: I for that reason suffered
evil. And all this I knew to he nothing, unless as it was directed toward
inward holiness. Accordingly this, the image of God, was what I aimed at in
all, by doing his will, not my own. Yet when, after continuing some years in
this course, I apprehended myself to be near death, I could not find that all
this gave me any comfort, or any assurance of acceptance with God. At this I
was then not a little surprised; not imagining I had been all this time
building on the sand, nor considering that “other foundation can no man lay,
than that which is laid” by God, “even Christ Jesus.”
7. Soon after, a contemplative man convinced me still more
than I was convinced before, that outward works are nothing, being alone; and
in several conversations instructed me, how to pursue inward holiness, or a
union of the soul with God. But even of his instructions (though I then
received them as the words of God) I cannot but now observe, 1. That he spoke
so incautiously against trusting in outward works, that he discouraged me from
doing them at all. 2. That he recommended (as it were, to supply what was
wanting in then) mental prayer, and the like exercises, as the most effectual
means of purifying the soul, and uniting it with God. Now these were, in truth,
as much my own works as visiting the sick or clothing the naked; and the union
with God thus pursued, was as really my own righteousness, as any I had before
pursued under another name.
8. In this refined way of trusting to my own works and my
own righteousness, (so zealously inculcated by the mystic writers,) I dragged
on heavily, finding no comfort or help therein, till the time of my leaving
England. On shipboard, however, I was again active in outward works; where it
pleased God of his free mercy to give me twenty-six of the Moravian brethren
for companions, who endeavored to show me “a more excellent way.” But I
understood it not at first. I was too learned and too wise. So that it seemed
foolishness unto me. And I continued preaching, and following after, and
trusting in, that righteousness whereby no flesh can be justified.
9. All the time I was at Savannah I was thus beating the
air. Being ignorant of the righteousness of Christ, which, by a living faith in
Him, bringeth salvation “to every one that believeth,” I sought to establish my
own righteousness; and so labored in the fire all my days. I was now properly
“under the law;” I knew that “the law” of God was “spiritual; I consented to it
that it was good.” Yea, “I delighted in it, after the inner man.” Yet was I
“carnal, sold under sin.” Everyday was I constrained to cry out, “What I do, I
allow not: For what I would, I do not; but what I hate, that I do. To will is “indeed”
present with me: But how to perform that which is good, I find not. For the
good which I would, I do not; but the evil which I would not, that I do. I find
a law, that when I would do good, evil is present with me:” Even “the law in my
members, warring against the law of my mind,” and still “bringing me into
captivity to the law of sin.”
10. In this vile, abject state of bondage to sin, I was
indeed fighting continually, but not conquering. Before, I had willingly served
sin; now it was unwillingly; but still I served it. I fell, and rose, and fell
again. Sometimes I was overcome, and in heaviness: Sometimes I overcame, and
was in joy. For as in the former state I had some foretastes of the terrors of
the law, so had I in this, of the comforts of the Gospel. During this whole
struggle between nature and grace, which had now continued above ten years, I
had many remarkable returns to prayer; especially when I was in trouble: I had
many sensible comforts; which are indeed no other than short anticipations of
the life of faith. But I was still “under the law,” not “under grace:” (The state most who are called Christians are content to live
and die in:) For I was only striving with, not freed from, sin. Neither
had I the witness of the Spirit with my spirit, and indeed could not; for I
“sought it not by faith, but as it were by the works of the law.”
11. In my return to England, January, 1738, being in
imminent danger of death, and very uneasy on that account, I was strongly
convinced that the cause of that uneasiness was unbelief; and that the gaining
a true, living faith was the “one thing needful” for me. But still I fixed not
this faith on its right object: I meant only faith in God, not faith in or
through Christ. Again, I knew not that I was wholly void of this faith; but
only thought, I had not enough of it. So that when Peter Bohler, whom God
prepared for me as soon as I came to London, affirmed of true faith in Christ,
(which is but one,) that it had those two fruits inseparably attending it, “Dominion
over sin, and constant Peace from a sense of forgiveness,” I was quite amazed,
and looked upon it as a new Gospel. If this was so, it was clear I had not
faith. But I was not willing to be convinced of this. Therefore, I disputed
with all my might, and labored to prove that faith might be where these were
not; especially where the sense of forgiveness was not: For all the Scriptures
relating to this I had been long since taught to construe away; and to call all
Presbyterians who spoke otherwise. Besides, I well saw,
no one could, in the nature of things, have such a sense of forgiveness, and
not feel it. But I felt it not. If then there was no faith without this, all my
pretensions to faith dropped at once.
12. When I met Peter Bohler again, he consented to put the
dispute upon the issue which I desired, namely, Scripture and experience. I
first consulted the Scripture. But when I set aside the glosses of men, and
simply considered the words of God, comparing them together, endeavoring to
illustrate the obscure by the plainer passages; I found they all made against
me, and was forced to retreat to my last hold, “that experience would never
agree with the literal interpretation of those scriptures. Nor could I
therefore allow it to be true, till I found some living witnesses of it.” He
replied, he could show me such at any time; if I desired it, the next day. And
accordingly, the next day he came again with three others, all of whom
testified, of their own personal experience, that a true living faith in Christ
is inseparable from a sense of pardon for all past, and freedom from all
present, sins. They added with one mouth, that this faith was the gift, the
free gift of God; and that he would surely bestow it upon every soul who
earnestly and perseveringly sought it. I was now thoroughly convinced; and, by
the grace of God, I resolved to seek it unto the end, 1. By absolutely
renouncing all dependence, in whole or in part, upon my own works or
righteousness; on which I had really grounded my hope of salvation though I
knew it not, from my youth up. 2. By adding to the constant use of all the
other means of grace, continual prayer for this very thing, justifying, saving
faith, a full reliance on the blood of Christ shed for me; a trust in Him, as
my Christ, as my sole justification, sanctification, and redemption.
13. I continued thus to seek it, (though with strange
indifference, dullness, and coldness, and unusually frequent relapses into
sin,) till Wednesday, May 24. I think it was about five this morning, that I
opened my Testament on those words, “There are given unto us exceeding great
and precious promises, even that ye should be partakers of the divine nature.”
(2 Peter 1:4.) Just as I went out, I opened it again on those words, “Thou art
not far from the kingdom of God.” In the afternoon I was asked to go to St.
Paul’s. The anthem was, “Out of the deep have I called unto thee, O Lord: Lord,
hear my voice. O let thine ears consider well the voice of my complaint. If
thou, Lord, wilt be extreme to mark what is done amiss, O Lord, who may abide
it? For there is mercy with thee; therefore shalt thou be feared. O Israel,
trust in the Lord: For with the Lord there is mercy, and with him is plenteous
redemption. And He shall redeem Israel from all his sins.”
14. In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in
Aldersgate-Street, where one was reading Luther’s preface to the Epistle to the
Romans. About a quarter before nine, while he was describing the change which
God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely
warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation: And an
assurance was given me, that he had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me
from the law of sin and death.
15. I began to pray with all my might for those who had in a
more especial manner despitefully used me and persecuted me. I then testified
openly to all there, what I now first felt in my heart. But it was not long
before the enemy suggested, “This cannot be faith; for where is thy joy?” Then
was I taught, that peace and victory over sin are essential to faith in the
Captain of our salvation: But that, as to the transports of joy that usually
attend the beginning of it, especially in those who have mourned deeply, God
sometimes giveth, sometimes with holdeth them, according to the counsels of his
own will.
16. After my return home, I was much buffeted with
temptations; but cried out, and they fled away. They returned again and again.
I as often lifted up my eyes, and He “sent me help from his holy place.” And
herein I found the difference between this and my former state chiefly
consisted. I was striving, yea, fighting with all my might under the law, as
well as under grace. But then I was sometimes, if not often, conquered; now, I
was always conqueror.
17. May 25, 1738: The moment I awaked, “Jesus, Master,” was
in my heart and in my mouth; and I found all my strength lay in keeping my eye
fixed upon him, and my soul waiting on him continually. Being again at St.
Paul’s in the afternoon, I could taste the good word of God in the anthem,
which began, “My song shall be always of the loving kindness of the Lord: With
my mouth will I ever be showing forth thy truth from one generation to
another.” Yet the enemy injected a fear, “If thou dost believe, why is there
not a more sensible change?” I answered, (yet not I,) “That I know not. But
this I know, I have ‘now peace with God.’ And I sin not today, and Jesus my
Master has forbid me to take thought for the morrow.”
18. “But is not any sort of fear,” continued the tempter, “a
proof that thou dost not believe?” I desired my Master to answer for me; and
opened his Book upon those words of St. Paul, “Without were fightings, within
were fears.” Then, inferred I, well may fears be within me; but I must go on,
and tread them under my feet.
May 26, 1738: My soul continued in peace, but yet in
heaviness because of manifold temptations. I asked Mr. Telchig, the Moravian,
what to do. He said, “You must not fight with them, as you did before, but flee
from them the moment they appear, and take shelter in the wounds of Jesus.” The
same I learned also from the afternoon anthem, which was, “My soul truly
waiteth still upon God: For of Him cometh my salvation; He verily is my
strength and my salvation, He is my defense, so that I shall not greatly fall.
O put your trust in Him always, ye people; pour out your hearts before Him; for
God is our hope.”
May 27, 1738: Believing one reason of my want of joy was
want of time for prayer, I resolved to do no business till I went to church in
the morning, but to continue pouring out my heart before Him. And this day my
spirit was enlarged; so that though I was now also assaulted by many
temptations, I was more than conqueror, gaining more power thereby to trust and
to rejoice in God my Savior.
May 28, 1738: I waked in peace, but not in joy. In the
same even, quiet state I was till the evening, when I was roughly attacked in a
large company as an enthusiast, a seducer, and a setter-forth of new doctrines.
By the blessing of God, I was not moved to anger, but after a calm and short
reply went away; though not with so tender a concern as was due to those who
were seeking death in the error of their life. This day I preached in the
morning at St. George’s, Bloomsbury, on, “This is the victory that overcometh
the world, even our faith;” and in the afternoon at the chapel in Long-Acre, on
God’s justifying the ungodly; - the last time (I understand) I am to preach at
either. “Not as I will, but as Thou wilt.”
May 29, 1738: I set out for Dummer with Mr. Wolf, one of the
first-fruits of Peter Bohler’s ministry in England. I was much strengthened by
the grace of God in him: Yet was his state so far above mine, that I was often
tempted to doubt whether we had one faith. But, without much reasoning about
it, I holden here: “Though his be strong and mine weak,
yet that God hath given some degree of faith even to me, I know by its fruits.
For I have constant peace; - not one uneasy thought. And I have freedom from
sin; - not one unholy desire.”
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