BOOK 2

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I come now to the most important part of A. C.’s life; that in which he began to perceive the importance of pure and undefiled Religion: and in which he began to discern and relish the power of divine truth. It is not to be supposed that there can be any great variety in the experience of religious people. Repentance, faith, and holiness, are unchangeable in their nature, and uniform in their effects. Religion has to do with one God, one Mediator, one sacrifice it recommends one faith, enjoins one baptism, proclaims one heaven, and one hell. All these are unchangeable both in their nature and their effects. One Gospel is the fountain whence all these things are derived; and that Gospel being the everlasting Gospel, was, is, and will be, the same, from its first publication, till time shall be no more.

Novelty, therefore, on such subjects, cannot be expected: he who has read the conversion and religious experience of one sensible man, has, in substance, read that of ten thousand.

Yet still it is a subject of laudable curiosity to know, how a mind such as that of Adam Clarke’s became first enlightened; on what grounds he first received that religious creed of which he was afterwards so powerful an advocate; and why he became so decisively attached to that body of religious people in whose communion he still remains.

We have already noticed the bringing up of A. C. and the care that a religious mother took of the spiritual concerns of her children; and the good effects of that education, in opening their minds to religious truth, and keeping their hearts susceptible of divine impressions. We have also seen, what effects this produced on the mind of Adam in particular, filling his heart with the fear of God, a deep reverence for the Bible, and the most cordial approbation of the principles of Christianity in general. We are now to witness the vegetation of that seed which was cast into a soil which God had fitted for its reception; where it took deep root, and brought forth such fruits as gave no equivocal evidence of a thorough scriptural conversion. He had hitherto sat principally under the ministry of the Rev. W. Smith, of Millburn, near Coleraine, Rector of the parish of Agherton. He was a good man, full of humanity and benevolence, and preached, as far as he knew it, most conscientiously, the Gospel of Christ; but on the doctrine of justification by faith, or the way in which a sinner is to be reconciled to God, he was either not very clear, or was never explicit.

He was fond of Adam because he was almost the only person who assisted the clerk in the Church service, and especially the singing.

Besides his general attendance at church with his father, Adam occasionally went to the Presbyterian meeting-house, where the trumpet gave a very uncertain sound, as both pastor and people were verging closely an Socinianism. A general forgetfulness of God prevailed in the parish; which, as to religious matters, was divided between the Church and the Presbyterians: and there was scarcely a person in it, decidedly pious, though there were several that feared God, and but few that were grossly profane or profligate. In that parish there was not one Roman Catholic family. The state of experimental religion was very low, though there were still some old people who talked about the godliness of their ancestors; and seemed to feel no small satisfaction, and even spiritual safety, in being able to say We have Abraham for our father. Even Mrs. Clarke, for the want of the means of grace, and the doctrine that is according to godliness, had lost ground, and began to be remiss in her domestic practice of piety.

The p lace needed reformation, but faithful reprovers were wanting; — like the foolish virgins, they were all either slumbering or sleeping, and it required a voice like the midnight cry, to awake them. This voice, God, in his endless mercy, shortly sent.

About the year 1777, the Methodist preachers, who had been for some time established in Coleraine visited the parish of Agherton. Of this people A. C. had never before heard, except once from a paragraph in a newspaper, where it was remarked as a singular thing, and well worthy of notice, that “A Methodist preacher, ministering in the open air, to a large congregation, a heavy shower of rain falling, the people began to disperse to seek shelter in their houses, which the preacher observing, told them that ‘rain was one of the chief blessings of God’s providence, that without it there could be neither seed time, nor harvest, nor indeed any green thing on the face of the earth: and will you,’ said he, ‘fly from the gift of God?’

The people felt the reproof, gathered more closely together and though the rain continued to descend, heard patiently and piously to the end of the discourse.”

One evening, after school hours, a young gentleman, one of A. C.’s schoolfellows, came to him, and surprised him, saying, “Come, Adam, let us go to Burnside, there is a Methodist preacher to be there this evening, and we shall have nice fun.” Now, although Adam was sufficiently playful, and was always ready to embrace any opportunity for diversion and amusement, yet he was puzzled to understand how preaching and playing could be associated; or how a time set apart for devotion, could be proper for amusement; for he had been always taught to hold preaching in reverence, whether he heard it in the church, or in the Presbyterian meeting. He engaged however to go, yet without the slightest expectation of the promised diversion. He went accordingly, and found many people assembled in a BARN: in a short time the preacher entered, a plain, serious looking man, but widely different in his dress, from any clerical gentleman he had ever before seen. His name was John Brettel; he was many years a very respectable itinerant preacher among the Methodists, as was also his brother Jeremiah, and sprung from a very respectable family in Birmingham. A. C. fixed his eyes upon him, and was not at all surprised with his first sentence, which was this, “I see several lads there, I hope they will be quiet and behave well; if not, they shall be put out of the house.” As Adam expected no diversion, he was not disappointed by this declaration. He did not recollect the text, and the discourse did not make any particular impression on his mind: but he was rather surprised by the following assertion, “The Westminster divines,” said the preacher, “have asserted in their Catechism, that no mere man, since the fall, can keep God’s commandments: but doth daily break them in thought, word, and deed: but the Scriptures promise us salvation from all our sin: and I must credit them in preference to the Westminster divines.” Adam had learned his Catechism, as before stated, and had given implicit credence to this assertion: but he reasoned thus with himself, “If the Scriptures say the contrary, certainly I should believe the Scriptures in preference to the catechism.”

After preaching was ended, Mr. Brettel went into the man’s house, whose barn he had occupied, and several people followed him and among the rest, young Clarke. He talked much on the necessity of Repentance, Faith, Holiness, &c.; and exhorted the people to turn to God with all their hearts, and not to defer it. This second meeting broke up in about half an hour, and the preacher and his friends returned to Coleraine. There was with him, among others, Mr. Stephen Douthitt, well known in Coleraine, as an irreproachable pattern of practical Christianity; and an ornament to the Methodist’s society in that place, for nearly half a century.

On his return to his father’s house, Adam reflected a good deal on the man, his manner, and his conversation. And thought, if these people talk so continually about religion, both in public and private, they must have a painful time of it.

The next week Mr. B. came to another part of the neighborhood, and Adam went to hear him: his text was, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.” — Revelation 3:20. He pointed out the various methods which God used in order to awaken and alarm impenitent sinners; and the dreadful consequences of slighting, resisting, or neglecting these calls, — ruin final and eternal must be the inevitable consequence; “but God” said he, “always fires the warning cannon before he discharges the murdering piece.” This was the last time he heard Mr. Brettel: other preachers succeeded him in Coleraine, and occasionally visited Agherton and most of the neighboring towns and villages; and when they were within is reach A. C. attended their ministry. At length that truly apostolic man, Mr. Thomas Barber, came to the place; and with indefatigable diligence and zeal went through all the country, preaching Christ Crucified, and Redemption through his Blood; in dwelling-houses, barns, school-houses, the open air, &c. &c.; and many were awakened under his ministry. Mrs. Clarke, Adam’s mother, went to hear, and immediately pronounced, this is the doctrine of the Reformers — this is true unadulterated Christianity.” In this she greatly rejoiced, and pressed all her family to go and hear for themselves. Mr. Clarke went, and he bore testimony that it was “the genuine doctrine of the Established Church.”

The preacher was invited to their house, which he and all his successors, ever had as their home, and were always entertained according to the best circumstances of the family. Under the preaching and pious advices of this excellent man, Adam’s mind gradually enlightened and improved: he had no violent awakening — his heart was in a good measure, by his mother’s pious care, prepared to receive the seed of the kingdom, and the doctrine of God “dropped on him as the rain, his speech distilled on him as dew; as the small rain upon the tender herb, and as showers upon the grass.” He followed this preacher every where within his reach; left all childish diversions, became sedate and sober, prayed in private and read the Scriptures; till at last his parents began to think he was likely to be righteous over much; he however went on and attended closely to his work in the farm; sometimes from four o’clock in the morning till between six and seven at night; and then felt quite happy to be permitted to run three or four miles into the country to hear a sermon! By these means he was generally enabled to hear four sermons a-week, when the preacher was in that part of the country: and none could say, that to attend this preaching he had ever left undone one half hour’s work, or omitted to perform any thing in its proper season. Far from making him slothful, the desire he had for his salvation, tended to make him still more active in the secular concerns of the family. Formerly he could while away time and often play when he should have been at work: now, he did every thing from conscience, he served his father as he would have served the merest stranger, in whose employment he should spend every hour of the day.

Nay, to labor with his hands was now his delight — he felt it the full force of those words of the apostle, Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit serving the Lord. From his own experience he could say, I love to work with my hands; and as he saw others who were under the same religious concern doubly active in their affairs of life, while earnestly seeking the salivation of their souls, he knew that the reproach which many raised against those who were so intent in their attendance on the means of grace — Ye are idle, ye are slothful, — ye do not love work — ye neglect your families to gad after preaching, &c. — was a most unfounded slander, deduced from Pharaoh the first persecutor of the Church of God; and shamelessly continued until now. He ever bore testimony, that he had found in all his own religious experience, and in the acquaintance he had with the work of God in others, that men became economists of time, and diligent in their avocations, in proportion as they were earnest for the salvation of their souls. This reproach has long been urged against the Methodists, by those who had no religion; because the diligence of the former in their spiritual concerns, was a standing reproof to the others who were living without a Scriptural hope, and without God in the world.

Prayer also was his delight. He could no longer be satisfied with morning and evening; he was awakened from the dream that this was sufficient, by the following questions of Mr. Barber. “Adam, do you think that God, for Christ’s sake, has forgiven you your sins?” “Sir, I have no evidence of this.” “Adam, do you pray?” Yes, Sir. “How often do you pray in private?” Every morning and evening.” “Adam, did you ever hear of any person finding peace with God, who only prayed in private twice in the day?” He felt ashamed and confounded; and discerned at once that he was not sufficiently in earnest, nor sufficiently awakened to a due sense of his state. Though he could say, that often during the day, he was accustomed to lift up his heart to God; yet he was not then aware that this requires much less light and heat than are requisite in solemn pleading with God.

He now began to quicken his pace, for he heard in almost every sermon, that it was the privilege of all the people of God to know, by the testimony of the Holy Spirit in their consciences, that their sins were forgiven them, for Christ’s sake; and that when they became adopted into the heavenly family, and were made children of God, God sent forth the Spirit of his Son into their hearts, crying Abba, Father. This he earnestly sought, but was damped in his ardor after this blessing by the sayings of man, of whose judgment he had a favorable opinion, that to know their sins forgiven them, was the privilege only of a few, and those the most favored of God’s people. On this point they made the following distinctions: — There is a twofold species of saving faith, — the faith of assurance, and the faith of adherence. The former the privilege of very few; the latter, the privilege of all true Christians. The former the most comfortable, but the latter equally safe. Trusting in an unseen Christ, will deceive no man but if he may have the comforts of the Spirit, so much the better.”

He now determined to search the Scriptures to see whether these things were so; and as he had never yet read the New Testament regularly through, he began that work; and, with deep attention and earnest prayer, read over the whole from beginning to end; spending in this employment almost every leisure moment. With this diligence the merciful God was well pleased, for he shed light both upon his heart, and upon his book. It was indeed a new book to him, — he read, and felt, and wept, and prayed; was often depressed then encouraged; his eyes were opened, and he beheld wonders in this divine Law. By this reading he acquired and fixed his Creed in all its articles, not one of which he ever after found reason to change, though he had not as yet that full confidence of each which he afterwards acquired. At this time he had read none of the writings of the Methodists; and from them he never learned that creed, which, on after examination he found to be precisely the same with theirs. He could say, “I have not received my creed from man, nor by man.” He learned it — (without consulting bodies of divinity, human creeds, confessions of faith, or such like) — from the fountain head of truth, the Oracles of the living God.

He now felt increasing anxiety, not only for his own soul but for those of his family, his school-fellows, and his neighbors. He rejoiced to see numbers attending the word preached, and a society formed in an adjoining village called Mullihicall, though himself never thought of becoming a member in it, or in any other. His mother had gone to see how what was called class-meeting was conducted, and on her return spoke highly of the meeting. She desired her son Adam to accompany her the next Lord’s day to the said meeting. He went with some reluctance. After singing and prayer, the leader spoke to each person severally concerning his spiritual state. Adam listened with deep attention, and was surprised to hear one of his neighbors speak to this effect: “I was once darkness, but now I am light in the Lord: I was once a slave to sin, but now I am made free by the grace of Christ: I once felt that horrors of a guilty conscience, but now I know and feel that God has blotted out my sins.” He was deeply struck wit h these declarations; and though he knew that this man had been a giddy foolish trifler, a drummer to a company of volunteers, yet knowing that he had seriously attended the preaching for some time, he had no doubt a the truth of this testimony. Some others expressed themselves in the same way; while others deplored their hardness of heart, and darkness of mind. He now began to feel very uneasy: he thought “this is no place for me to be in: I have no right to be here: these people should have none to witness their religious meetings, but those who belong to some society and, in short, he felt grieved that his mother should have been so inconsiderate as to have brought him there. He was afraid lest the leader should question him; and he knew he had no thing to say that would be creditable to himself or profitable to others: at last he was questioned, and got off with a sort of general answer. The meeting broke up, and he was returning home, melancholy and unhappy. The leader, Mr. Andrew Hunter, of Coleraine, joined him on the road, and began to speak to him on spiritual matters, in a most affectionate and pathetic way; earnestly pressed him to give his whole heart to God; for, said he, “You may be a burning and shining light in a benighted land.” Why these words should have deeply affected him he could not tell; but so it was; he was cut to the heart: instead of being rich and increased in spiritual goods, as he once fondly thought, he now saw that he was wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked. All his past diligence, prayer, reading, &c., appeared as nothing, — in vain he looked within and without for something to recommend him to God; but there was nothing — multitudes of evils which before were undiscovered, were now pointed out to his conscience as by a sunbeam. He was filled with confusion and distress; wherever he looked he saw nothing but himself. The light which penetrated his mind, led him into all the chambers of the house of imagery; and everywhere he saw idols set up in opposition to the worship of the true God. He wished to flee from himself, and looked with envy on stocks and stones, for they had not offended a just God, and were incapable of bearing his displeasure.

The season was fine, the fields were beautifully clothed with green, the herds browsed contentedly in their pastures, and the birds were singing melodiously, some in the air, some in the trees and bushes; but, alas, his eyes and his ears were now no longer inlets to pleasure. In point of gratification, nature was to him a universal blank, for he felt himself destitute of the image and approbation of his Maker; and, besides this consciousness, there needed no other hell to constitute his misery. His doleful language was, “O that I knew where I might find Him, that I might come even to his seat! Behold, I go forward, but he is not there: and backward, but I cannot perceive Him: on the left hand, where be doth work, but I cannot behold Him, he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see Him.” — Job 23:3,8,9. He was afraid even to look towards God, because he felt himself unholy, and yet he knew that his help could come from none other than Him whom he had offended; and whose image he did not b ear, and consequently could not have his approbation. On a subject of this kind, even an enemy to the Christian faith may teach an important truth. “It was once demanded of the fourth Calif Aalee, ‘If the canopy of heaven were a bow and the earth were the cord thereof; if calamities were arrows and mankind were the mark for these arrows, and if almighty God, the tremendous and the glorious, were the unerring Archer, to whom could the sons of Adam flee for protection?’ The Calif answered, saying; ‘The sons of Adam must flee, unto the Lord.’” — Teemour.

Mr. Barber, who had always watched over him for good and had lately formed a class of those who desired to save their souls; — without acquainting him with it, had entered Adam’s name among the rest. When he heard this it did not please him, but he said, “Since they have put down my name, I will, by the help of God, meet with them;” and he did so for several weeks. One morning he was detained by illness: the next time he permitted a trifling hindrance to prevent him: and the third morning he felt no desire to go: thus he was absent three weeks.

It pleased God at this time to permit Satan to sift him as wheat. It was a strong article in his creed that the Passion and Death of Christ were held out through the whole of the New Testament as sacrificial and expiatory; and that His Death was a sufficient ransom, sacrifice, and atonement for the sin of the world: for He, by the grace of God, had tasted death for every man. This doctrine was the only basis of his hope and yet he had not that faith by which he could lay hold on the merit of that Sacrifice for his personal salvation. Were this foundation to be destroyed, what could he do, or where flee for refuge? How it was shaken in his mind I am about to relate.

He had long been intimate in the house of a very respectable family in the neighborhood. He was there as their own child: for him they had all a very strong affection, and he felt for them in return, both affection and reverence. One evening the conversation in the family turned on the Doctrine of the Atonement; and some observations then made filled his soul with doubts and fears. It was, in short, stated one present, that, “the Methodists were guilty of idolatry, for they gave that worship to Jesus Christ that belonged to the Father only.” He came home full of confusion: “What have I been doing Have I been adding idolatry to all the rest of my transgressions? Have I had two Gods instead of one?” He went into the boviere, (shippon) the first place he came to, and kneeled down among the cattle, and began to ask pardon of God, fearing that he had given that glory to another, which was due to Him alone. He was not satisfied, however, with this; he thought he should go farther, and leave the name of Christ out of all his prayers; this proceeded so far that he did not like to converse about Him. What he had lately heard, represented Him to his mind as an usurper; and at last he could not bear to see His name in any religious book. Darkness now entered into his mind, his spiritual fervor gradually diminished, ‘till it was at last entirely gone. He prayed, but it was a form: he read, but it was without unction. He felt this lamentable change, and began earnestly to inquire whence it had arisen? Importunate prayer, his former refuge, was suggested to his mind, as the only help; for he had none to whom he could open his heart. That he might not be perceived by any of the family, he went once more among the cattle, a place to which he had often resorted, and fell down before his Maker, and prayed to this effect, — “O Lord God Almighty, look with pity on the state of my soul! I am sinful, ignorant, and confused. I know not what to say, or what to believe.

If I be in an error, O Lord God, lead me into thy truth! Thou knowest I would not deceive myself: Thou knowest I esteem thy approbation beyond life itself. O, my God, teach me what is right! if I be in an error, O show it to me, and deliver me from it! O deliver me from it, and teach me Thy truth! O God hear, and have mercy upon me, — for the sake of JESUS CHRIST!” These last words had no sooner dropped from his lips, than he started as if alarmed at himself. “What! have I been again praying in the name of Jesus? was this right?” Immediately his soul was filled with light, the name of Jesus was like the most odoriferous ointment poured out, he could clasp it to his heart, and say, “Yes, my only Lord and Saviour, thou hast died for me, — by Thee alone I can come unto God, — there is no other Name given from heaven among men by which we can be saved!

Through the merit of thy Blood, I will take confidence, and approach unto God! He now felt that he was delivered from those depths of Satan, by which his soul was nearly engulfed.

This narrow escape from sentiments which would have been fatal, if not finally ruinous to him, he ever held as a most special interference of God; and he always found it his duty to caution men strongly against the Arian and Socinian errors. It was this, without any suggestions from man, led him to examine the reputed orthodox, but spurious doctrine, of the Eternal Sonship of Christ; which he soon found, and has since demonstrated, that no man can hold, and hold the eternal unoriginated nature of Jesus Christ.

For, if His divine nature be in any sense whatever derived, His eternity, and by consequence His Godhead, is destroyed; and if His Godhead, then His Atonement. On this point he has produced a simple argument in his Note on Luke 1:35, which is absolutely unanswerable. Attempts have been made to confute his doctrine, but they are all absurd, as long as that argument remains unanswered.

The argument is simply this: — “ 1. If Christ be the Son of God, as to his Divine Nature, then he cannot be eternal, for Son implies a Father; and Father implies, in reference to Son, precedence in time, if not in nature too. Father and Son imply the notion of generation, and generation implies a time in which it was effected; and time also antecedent to such generation. 2. If Christ be the Son of God, as to his Divine nature, then the Father is of necessity prior, consequently, in Godhead superior to him. 3. Again, if this Divine nature were begotten of the Father, then it must have been in time, i.e. there must have been a period in which it did not exist; and a period when it began to exist. This destroys the eternity of our blessed Lord, and robs him at once of his Godhead. 4. To say that he was begotten from all eternity is absurd; and the phrase Eternal Son is a positive self contradiction. Eternity is that which had no beginning, and stands in no reference to TIME. SON supposes time, generation, and father, and time also antecedent to such generation; therefore, the theologic conjunction of these two terms, son and eternity, is absolutely impossible, as they imply essentially different and opposite ideas.” *[1] The Reader will see from this case, which I have circumstantially related: — 1. How dangerous it is for young converts to go into the company not merely of the ungodly, but of those who are given to doubtful disputatious. 2. How completely subversive it must be to a penitent soul to frequent the company of those, howsoever decent and orderly they may be in their conduct, who deny, as a vicarious Atonement, the Lord that bought them.

Take away this foundation, and it is utterly impossible for any true penitent to entertain any hope of mercy. 3. People may hold this doctrine who never felt the guilt of sin, their own sore, and the plague of their heart; but let a man see himself a sinner, contemplate the infinite purity and justice of God, and the awful strictness of his law; and then he will feel that in heaven, in earth, in time, in eternity, there is neither hope nor help for his soul, if he have not a Sacrifice to bring to the Divine Majesty, of merit sufficient to atone for all his crimes, and give him right to an inheritance them that are sanctified. It is trifling with conscience to talk of confiding in the Divine benevolence, while the fragments of a broken law are every where lying under the sinner’s feet. 4. A. C.’s mind, while he was looking for Redemption through the Blood of the covenant, was imbued with divine fervor; he ran the ways of God’s commandments, and was exemplary in every part of his conduct, as well as fervent in his devotion; but when his faith in the Atonement was for even a short time staggered by subtle insinuations, his devotion was damped, his spiritual affections paralyzed, he grew weary of a cross which he had no strength to bear, and though he was preserved from all outward sin, and was orderly in his deportment, piety towards God no longer triumphed, he lost all command indeed all prospect of it, and became good for nothing. This was not a solitary case: all who have abandoned the doctrine of Christ crucified for the sin of the world, have been affected in a similar way. Thos e brought up in the opposite creed, seem to suffer less from it than those do who apostatize from what is called the orthodox faith. 5. We see in this place the kindness of God: He never will abandon them who sincerely seek Him. He heard the prayer of this sincere distressed young man: and instead of suggesting arguments to his mind, by which he might successfully combat the opposing doctrine, He impressed his heart at once with the truth; and answered his prayer to be led into the right way, by leading him in a moment to pray with confidence, in the name of JESUS. This was what he could not do before; and in this petition, every objection was either answered or absorbed.

A. C. has often been led to observe that, in this temporary perversion of his creed, Satan had more influence than the arguments he had heard against the truth: they were slight and transient, they perplexed the mind a little; the great enemy took advantage of the temporary confusion, and for some days, fished successfully in the troubled waters.

Having again got upon the Rock, he had once more a comfortable prospect of the promised land, and set out afresh for the heavenly rest. Though greatly encouraged, he had not yet found rest for his soul. He heard others talk of the witness of the Spirit, and knew several who rejoiced in it with joy unspeakable; and he was determined never to give up, till he was made a partaker of the same grace. His distress was great, yet it neither arose from a fear of hell, nor from any consciousness of God’s hatred to him. but from the deep-felt want of the approbation and Image of God.

In seeking this, he had a species of mournful rejoicing, and often vented and expressed the feelings of his heart in words, expressive of his ardent desire to experience the power and peace, the pardon and salvation of his God.

In this state of mind, he thought it right to receive for the first time, the Sacrament of the LORD’ S SUPPER. This design he communicated to Mr. Barber, who encouraged him in it; but, as the Rubric requires, that those who intend to receive the Holy Sacrament, shall signify their intentions some time before, to the minister; he purposed to wait on Mr. Smith, the Rector, and signify his wish, and ask his permission. He accordingly went, and Mr. S. received him with great affection and tenderness. He was much affected in witnessing so strong a desire in so young a person; and said, “I should be glad, Master Clarke, if you would go to the Rev. Mr. Younge, of Coleraine, he is a very wise and good man, and will examine you, and give you the best advice; and if you will go now, I will write a note by you to Mr. Young.” Adam agreed, and went. Mr. Younge also behaved towards him with much tenderness and affability, examined him out of the Catechism, and particularly explained the last answer to him, relative to the duty of them who come to the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper: viz. “To examine themselves whether they repent them truly of their former sins, — whether they steadfastly purpose to lead a new life, — have a lively faith in God’s mercy, through Christ, with a thankful remembrance of his Death; and be in charity with all men:” and observed, “It is not your being able to say this by heart, that is the qualification here required; but your heart must be impressed with, and feel all these things.” The answers of Adam seemed to be satisfactory to Mr. Younge, for he wrote a note back to Mr. Smith, which when he read, he seemed quite rejoiced, and said, “Mr. Y. tells me that I may safely admit you to the Lord’s table.”

As he was now about to perform one of the most solemn acts of his life, and was greatly afraid of communicating unworthily, and so eating and drinking his own damnation, (as it is unhappily expressed, Corinthians 11:29, instead of condemnation) he purposed to go through the Week’s Preparation; a book which, however well intended has been the means of misleading many by causing them to trust in the punctual performance of the duties therein required, for a short time before that sacred ordinance, without that change of heart and life so essentially necessary to the Christian character. Adam, however, used it with earnest and deep concern; and as, in the course of that week, he was obliged to go a short journey on his father’s business, which took up the whole day (Thursday) and he could not go through the prescribed prayers and meditations; for fear of coming short, he did double work on Friday, and brought the two days into one! If this were mistaken piety, it was at least sincere.

On the morning of Easter Sunday, the day appointed for the Sacrament, he repaired to the church; and after sermon went with his father to the Communion Table. When Mr. Smith, came to him with the sacred bread, he was much affected, and when he had said, “The body of our Lord Jesus Christ which was given for thee,” he was quite overcome; he sobbed, the tears gushed from his eyes, and he could not for some seconds proceed to the end of the sentence. Here was one proof of a godly pastor; he felt especially for the young of his flock, and was ready to carry the lambs in his bosom. In this holy ordinance Adam’s mind was deeply impressed with the necessity of giving himself wholly up to the service of God; and he considered the act of communicating, as one by which he had most solemnly and publicly bound himself to be all that Christianity requires in her votaries, through His especial assistance, by whom that Christianity came. But he did not receive it as a seal of the pardon of his sins; or as a pledge of the kingdom of heaven. Nothing could satisfy him, but a pardon felt in his heart, and registered in his conscience by the light and power of the Holy Spirit; and he well knew, that an entry into the kingdom of glory, depended on his living to God in this world, regaining the divine image, and dying with Christ in him the hope of glory. He received it therefore as a memorial of the Sacrifice of Christ, by which pardon, holiness, and heaven, were purchased for mankind.

It would be well if all communicants, and all pastors, treated this most sacred ordinance as young Clarke and his minister did. On both sides it was supposed, and properly, that too much caution could not be used.

Adam on his part attended conscientiously to the rubric, and consulted his minister: the minister on is part, proceeded with a godly caution, lest he should distribute improperly those sacred elements. Is not the same caution still necessary! but is it in general observed? Why is not this ordinance which represents the agony and bloody sweat, the cross and passion, the precious death and burial, and in a word, the redemption of a lost world, by the sacrificial offering of the Lord Jesus, more devoutly and frequently impressed on the minds of young hearers, with the solemnity of that obligation? Let proper warning be given, and strong exhortation to due preparation; for surely it is as possible now to eat and drink our own condemnation in England, as it was to the Greek converts, eighteen hundred years ago in Corinth.

Though often encouraged, so that he “Seemed to sit with cherubs bright, Some moments on a throne of love,” he had not yet found that peace and assurance of which he was in pursuit: and it may seem strange, that one who was following God so sincerely, should have been so long without that powerful consolation of religion.

But God is Sovereign of his own ways; and he gives and withholds according to his godly wisdom. Adam was ever ready to vindicate the ways of God in this respect. “It was necessary,” said he “that I should have hard travail. God was preparing me for an important work. I must, emphatically, sell all to get the pearl of great price. If I had lightly come by the consolations of the Gospel, I might have let them go as lightly. It was good that I bore the yoke in my youth. The experience that I learned in my long tribulation, was none of the least of my qualifications as a minister of the Gospel.”

He was now come to that point, beyond which God did not think proper any longer to delay the manifestation of Himself to the soul of his ardent follower: and indeed such were his concern and distress, that had it been longer deferred, the spirit that God had made, would have failed before him.

One morning, in great distress of soul, he went out to his work in the field: he began but could not proceed, so great was his spiritual anguish. He fell down on his knees on the earth, and prayed, but seemed to be without power or faith. He arose, endeavored to work, but could not: even his physical strength appeared to have departed from him. He again endeavored to pray, but the gate of heaven seemed as if barred against him.

His faith in the Atonement, so far as it concerned himself, was almost entirely gone; he could not believe that Jesus had died for HIM; the thickest darkness seemed to gather round, and settle on his soul. He fell flat on his face on the earth, and endeavored to pray but still there was no answer: he arose, but he was so weak ,that he could scarcely stand. His agonies were indescribable; he seemed to be for ever separated from God and the glory of His power. Death, in any form, he could have preferred to his present feelings, if that death could have put an end to them. No fear of h ell produced these terrible conflicts. He had not God’s approbation; he had not God’s image. He felt that without a sense of his favor, he could not live. Where to go, what to say, and what to do, he found not; even the words of prayer at last failed; he could neither plead nor wrestle with God.

O, Reader, lay these things to heart. Here was a lad that had never been a profligate, had been brought up in the fear of God, and who, for a considerable time had been earnestly seeking His peace, apparently cut off from life and hope did not arise from any natural infirmity of his own mind: — none who knew him, in any period of his life, could suspect this: — it was a sense of the displeasure of a holy God, from having sinned against him; and yet his sins were those of a little boy, which most would be disposed to pass by, for he was not of an age to be guilty of flagrant crimes; and yet how sorely did he suffer, in seeking to be born again; to have his conscience purged from dead works, and to have his nature renewed! — He was then being prepared for that work to which he was afterwards to be called; the struggle was great, that he himself might not easily turn again to folly, and thus bring condemnation on himself, and a reproach upon God’s cause; and it was, on all probability, necessary that he should experience this deep anguish, that feeling the bitterness of sin, he might warn others more earnestly; and knowing the throes and travail of a sinner’s soul, he might speak assuredly to the most despairing, of the power of Christ’s Sacrifice, and of the indwelling consolations of the Spirit of God. — God appeared to have “turned aside his ways, and pulled him to pieces; He had bent his bow, and made him a mark for His arrows: He was filled with bitterness, and made drunken as with wormwood: — his soul was removed far from peace, and he forgat prosperity.” Yet even here though his stroke was heavier than his groaning, he could say, “It is of the Lord’s mercies that I am not consumed.” — Lamentations 3:11-22. See him in his agony upon the bare ground, almost petrified with anguish, and dumb with grief! Reader, hast thou sinned? Hast thou repented? Hast thou peace with thy God, or art thou still in the gall of bitterness, and bond of iniquity? These are solemn, yea, awful questions. May God enable thee to answer them to the safety of thy soul!

But we must return to him whom we have left — in agonies indescribable.

It is said, the time of man’s extremity is the time of God’s opportunity.

He now felt strongly in his soul, “Pray to Christ;” — another word for, “Come to the Holiest through the Blood of Jesus.” He looked up confidently to the Saviour of sinners, his agony subsided, his soul became calm. A glow of happiness seemed to thrill through his whole frame, all guilt and condemnation were gone. He examined his conscience, and found it no longer a register of sins against God. He looked to heaven, and all was sunshine; he searched for his distress, but could not find it. He felt indescribably happy, but could not tell the cause; — a change had taken place within him, of a nature wholly unknown before, and for which he had no name. He sat down upon the ridge where he had been working, full of ineffable delight. He praised God, and he could not describe for what, — for he could give no name to his work. His heart was light, his physical strength returned, and he could bound like a roe. He felt a sudden transition from darkness to light — from guilt and oppressive fear, to confidence and peace. He could now draw nigh to God with more confidence than he ever could to his earthly father: — he had freedom of access, and he had freedom of speech. He was like a person who had got into a new world although every object was strange, yet each was pleasing; and now he could magnify God for his creation, a thing he never could do before: O what a change was here! and yet, lest he should be overwhelmed with it, its name and its nature were in a great measure hidden from his eyes. Shortly after, his friend Mr. Barber came to his father’s house: when he departed, Adam accompanied him a little on the way. When they came in sight of the field that had witnessed the agonies of his heart and the breaking of his chains, he told Mr. B. what had taken place. The man of God took off his hat, and with tears flowing down his cheeks, gave thanks unto God. “O Adam” said he, “I rejoice in this; I have been daily in expectation that God would shine upon your soul, and bless you with the adoption of his children.” Adam stared at him, and said within himself, “O, he thinks surely that I am justified, that God has forgiven me my sins, that I am now his child. O, blessed be God, I believe, I feel I am justified, through the Redemption that is in Jesus.” Now he clearly saw what God had done; and although he had felt the blessing before, and was happy in the possession of it, it was only now that he could call it by its name.

Now, he saw and felt, that “being justified by faith, he had peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom he had received the atonement.”

He continued in peace and happiness all the week: the next Lord’s day there was a love-feast in Coleraine; — he went to it, and during the first prayer, kneeled in a comer with his face to the wall. While praying, the Lord Jesus seemed to appear to the eyes of his mind, as he is described, Revelation 1:13,14. clothed with a garment down to his feet, and girt about the breasts with a golden girdle: his head and his hair white as snow, and his eyes like a flame of fire. And though in strong prayer before, he suddenly stopped and said, though not perhaps in a voice to be heard by those who were by him, — “Come nearer, Oh, Lord Jesus, that I may see thee more distinctly.” Immediately he felt as if God had shone on the work he had wrought, and called it by its own name; he fully and clearly knew that he was a child of God; the Spirit of God bore this witness in his conscience, and he could no more have doubted of it, than he could have doubted of the reality of his existence, or the identity of his person. — “Meridian evidence put doubt to flight?” In ordinary minds, or those naturally feeble, all this might pass for delusion; his penitential fears and distresses might appear as the effects of a gloomy superstition; and his subsequent peace and happiness, and the sudden nature of his inward change, as the consequences of the workings of a strong imagination, apt, under religious impressions, to degenerate into enthusiasm.

The Reader may rest assured that no one was more jealous on these points than the person in question. He was accustomed to examine everything to the bottom; and, as it ever was a maxim with him, that Revelation and reason went hand in hand; — that neither contained any thing contrary to the other; — so he sought in each, for proofs of those things contained in its fellow. He was ever afraid of being deceived, and that led him scrupulously to examine every thing that professed to come from God. He believed nothing in salvation on the mere assertion of any man: nor did he yield consent at any time, till Revelation and its handmaid reason, had said, these things are true.

Preaching once in Plymouth, an the witness of the Spirit in the souls of believers: — after having produced and commented on those Scriptures, which are supposed most pointedly to contain that doctrine, he said, — “It might have been doubted that we have misunderstood these Scriptures, and made them the basis of an article, which they do not fairly and naturally support, if the general testimony of all the sincere converts to the gospel of Christ had not illustrated the facts; and had not the experience of those converts been uniform in this particular, while in many cases, their habits of life, education, and natural temperament, were widely different. And this not only among persons bred up with the same general views of Christianity, — in the same Christian communion; but among persons bred up in different communions, with creeds in many respects diametrically opposite to each other! And farther, this has been the same in persons of different climates and countries. All those who have been convinced of sin, righteousness, and judgment — have truly repented of their sins, and taken refuge in the Blood of the Cross; have had their burden of guilt taken away, and the peace of God communicated, and with it the Spirit of God witnessing with their spirit that they were the sons and daughters of God Almighty: so that they had no more doubt of their acceptance with God, than they had of their existence. “But it may be objected farther: — the human mind easily gets under the dominion of superstition and imagination; and then a variety of feelings, apparently divine, may be accounted for on natural principles. To this I answer — 1st. Superstition is never known to produce settled peace and happiness, — it is generally the parent of gloomy apprehensions and irrational fears: but surely the man who has broken the laws of his Maker, and lived in open rebellion against him, cannot be supposed to be under the influence of superstition, when he is apprehensive of the wrath of God, and fears to fall into the bitter pains of an eternal death? Such fears are as rational as they are scriptural; and the broken and contrite heart, is ever considered, through the whole Oracles of God, as essentially necessary to the finding redemption in Christ.

Therefore, such fears, feelings and apprehensions, are not the offspring of a gloomy superstition; but the fruit and evidence of a genuine scriptural repentance. 2dly. Imagination cannot long support a mental imposture. To persuade the soul that it is passed from darkness to light, — that it is in the favor of God, — that it is an heir of glory, &c., will require strong excitement indeed: and the stronger the exciting cause or stimulus, the sooner the excitability, and its effects will the exhausted. A person may imagine himself for a moment to be a king, or to be a child of God; but that reverie, where there is no radical derangement of mind, must be transient.

The person must soon awake and return to himself. 3d. But it, is impossible that imagination can have any thing to do in this case, any farther than any other faculty of the mind, in natural operation: for the person must walk according as he is directed by the Word of God, abhorring evil, and cleaving to that which is good: and the sense of God’s approbation in his conscience, lasts no longer than he acts under the spirit of obedience: God continuing the evidence of his approbation to his conscience while he walks in newness of life. Has imagination ever produced a life of piety? Now, multitudes are found who have had this testimony uninterruptedly for many years together. Could imagination produce this? If so, it is an unique case; for there is none other in which an excitement of the imagination has sustained the impression with any such permanence. And all the operations of this faculty prove, that, to an effect of this kind it is wholly inadequate. If then it can sustain impressions in spiritual matters for years together, this must be totally preter natural, and the effect of a miraculous operation; — and thus miracle must be resorted to, to explain away a doctrine, which some men, because they themselves do not experience it, deny that any others can. “But might I, without offense, speak a word concerning myself? A great necessity alone, would vindicate to my own mind the introduction, in this public way, of any thing relative to myself.

But you will bear with my folly, should any of you think it such.

I, also, have professed to know that God, for Christ’s sake, hath forgiven me all my sins; and being thus converted and come forth to strengthen brethren, and preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ. Most of you know that I am no enthusiast, — that I have given no evidences of a strong imagination, — that I am far from being the subject of sudden hopes or fears, — that it requires strong reasons and clear argumentation to convince me of the truth of any proposition not previously known. Now, I do profess to have received, through God’s eternal mercy, a clear evidence of my acceptance with God; and it was given me after a sore night of spiritual affliction; and precisely in that way in which the Scriptures, already quoted, promise th is blessing. It has also been accompanied with power over sin; and it is now upwards, of seven years since I received it, and I hold it through the same mercy, as explicitly, as clearly, and satisfactorily as ever. No work of imagination could have overproduced or maintained any feeling like this. I am, therefore, safe in affirming, for all these reasons, that we have neither misunderstood nor misapplied the Scriptures in question.”

The subsequent experience of A. C. equally verified the truth of the preceding statements.

We have now brought down the account of this, in many respects, singular person, to an era which he ever considered the most important in his religious life: for now he had gained decisive experimental proof of the truth of the articles of his creed: and each point was confirmed to him with greater evidence. Now, he could give a reason of the hope that was in him; and in every respect, his own faith was justified to his understanding. He had found true happiness in religion: and this he knew it must afford, if it were of God: for he saw, that Religion was a commerce between God and man; and was intended to be the means of re-establishing him in that communion with his Maker, and the happiness consequent on it, which he had lost by the fall.

All notions of religion, merely as a system of duties which we owe to God, fell, in his apprehension, infinitely short of its nature and intention.

To the perfection, happiness, or gratification, of the infinite mind, no creature can be necessary. Religion was not, made for God; but for MAN.

It is an institution of the Divine Benevolence, for human happiness. Nor can God be pleased with any man’s religion or faith, but as far as they lead him to happiness — i. e. to the enjoyment of God; without which there can be no felicity; for God is the Source of intellectual happiness, and from him alone, it can be derived: and in union with whom alone, it can be enjoyed. Animal gratifications may be acquired by means of the various matters that are suited to the senses: but gratification and happiness are widely different: the former may exist where the latter is entirely unknown.

After this, A. C. continued a little longer at school. Though he could not well enter into the spirit of Lucian and Juvenal, which he then read; yet he was surprised to find how easy, in comparison of former times, learning appeared. The grace which he had received, greatly illumined and improved his understanding and judgment. Difficulties seemed to have vanished, and learning appeared now little more to him, than an exercise and cultivation of memory. He has been often heard to say: “After I found the peace of God to my conscience; and was assured of my interest in the Lord Jesus; I believe I may safely assert, that I learned more in one day, on an average, than formerly I could do, with equal application, in a whole month. And no wonder, my soul began to rise out of the ruins of its fall, by the favor of the Eternal Spirit. It was not on the affections or the passions, this Spirit worked; but upon understanding, judgment, and will: these being rectified and brought under a divine influence, the lower faculties came on in their train, purged and refined. The change in my heart was the effect of the change in my immortal spirit. I saw, from my own case, that religion was the gate to true learning and science; and that those who went through their studies without this, had, at least, double work to do; and, in the end, not an equal produce. My mind became enlarged to take in any thing useful. I was now separated from every thing that could impede my studies, obscure or debase my mind. Learning and science I knew came from God, because, he is the Fountain of all knowledge: and, properly speaking, these things belong to man; — God created them, not for Himself — not for angels — but for man; and he fulfills not the design of his Creator, who does not cultivate his mind in all useful knowledge, to the utmost of his circumstances and power.”

At the same time, he was convinced that studies, which were not connected with religion, and which did not lead to God, and having His will and glory for their objects, could never be sanctified; and consequently, could never be ultimately useful, either to their possessors, or to others.

As he was told by the highest authority, that “the heavens declare the glory of God; the firmament showeth forth his handy work;” and, as mere inspection served only to fill him with wonder and astonishment, without giving him such information as might enlarge the boundaries of knowledge, he wished much to gain some acquaintance with the science of astronomy.

About this time a friend lent him that incomparable work of Dr. Derham, entitled Astro-theology: and another particular friend, made him a present of a small, but excellent, achromatic telescope. The Bible and Dr. Derham he read in union, at all spare times of the day: and his telescope he used as often as possible in the night season. He was delighted with the phases of the moon; and these he carefully watched through her decrease and increase; and found little difficulty in the belief that the moon was a habitable and inhabited world: and that all the planets were doubtless the same: — all of them, abodes of intelligent beings, formed and supported by the same beneficent hand, and in reference to the same gracious end.

Ray’s Wisdom of God in the Creation, gave him still more particular information, and was the means of directing his mind to the study of natural philosophy. All these things were the means of establishing his soul in the thorough belief of the truth: and, as these authors professedly show God in His Works, so his faith sto