Eleventh letter of Mr. Hardcastle
[Oct. 23, 1675]
These for my loving friends, the members and auditors of the congregation meeting in Broadmead, Bristol.
Dearly Beloved, - I am treating with you about the great point of true and saving faith. I perceive that Satan is angry at it, and would interrupt both me in the writing, and you in the reading. I presently found out the cause of both in Eph. 6: 16.
I have already acquainted you, that true faith is the gift of God; and am now, in the second place,
Through the assistance of divine grace and influence, to discover to you that it is precious, II Pet. 1: 1. Not a common, cheap, traditional, and notional faith, a parochial and neighbourhood faith. The preciousness of this faith, for our clearer understanding of it, in order to self-examination, we may consider it a threefold respect.
I. As it makes Christ very precious to the soul, I Peter 2: 6,7, the most desirable, and longed for. A soul thoroughly convinced of and humbled for sin, by the preaching of the gospel, uses some such ponderings and expressions as these: -
Nothing will do me good, but the blood of Christ. I can have no relief from performances, privileges, enjoyments; my good works will not bear the weight of my evil ones. I commit more sin than I do good; nay, I sin in all the good I do. I go from duty to duty, and from ordinance to ordinance, and fain would I meet with Jesus Christ. My sins are a burden too heavy for me to bear, and I am ready to sink under them. Oh that I could get hold of Him: I would feel Him: I would find Him. I am weary of my transgression. I have not rest because of my sin. I have been often told of believing on Christ, and coming to Christ, and closing with Christ: Oh, that I knew where I might find Him! Give me faith, or else I die! Oh, for some precious faith! If Jesus Christ would but treat with me, and give me a meeting, He and I would not differ, we should quickly come to an agreement. I would accept His terms with all my heart, and be forever obliged to be His grateful servant; and never think I can do enough for Him, though I should lay down my life for Him. He shall have all my iniquities, that have exposed me to eternal ruin, and have made me such a filthy creature; and He shall have all my services, that has bestowed on me such a complete righteousness, and entitled me to such a glorious kingdom.
It is true I can do nothing: even what I must do by his grace, that must sue to Him for His pardon, and entreat for His gracious assistance; but He shall have my whole heart, and if I could do anything for Him I would. I shall be as glad for the fruits of His Spirit within me, changing my nature, as I would be of the effects of His pardoning grace. O Lord Jesus, I believe you art able to take away my sin, and I believe you are willing; and I am willing to part with them all. I am able to hold out no longer. I am resolved to cast myself upon you. I remember that of Hosea 14: 1-4. You have given it under your own hand, that those that come to you, you will in no wise cast out; and have made a general invitation, call and command: Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
If I be not within the compass of the qualifications, let me be rejected. If I be not as weary of my sins, the guilt and accusations, charge and clamor of them, of the pollution and defilement of them, as ever porter was of his burden – and had not rather have a rock, a mountain, fall on me, than the effects of sin – had not rather have God love me, and sanctify my nature, than enjoy the greatest prosperity in the world – then let me be refused. But if I be a poor, heavy-laden soul, such as one as the call intends, then take off my burden, and put your yoke upon me, and place me among thy servants in your house, that I may be maintained and instructed by you, and serve you without fear and slavishness, in holiness and righteousness all my days, & c. Faithful is he that hath promised, who also will do it.
When a sweet rest, and most refreshing repose, is the pardon of sin, and the love of Christ, to such a soul:- a sanctuary, a harbor, a shadowy rock in a weary land: more acceptable than the joy of harvest, the joy of a woman delivered, the joy of the bridegroom and the bride, or the joy of them that divide the spoil; all which the scripture makes mention of. But none like the joy of meeting with Christ, as a mediator, an advocate, a propitiation through faith in His blood. Now common faith sees no such preciousness in Christ, does not care to be beholden unto Him, or as little as may be: where it cannot discharge, it would be thankful for Christ to pay, and where it comes short, that Christ would make up the defects; but it sees no such need of, or preciousness in the death, and sufferings, and resurrection of Christ. Do this and live, it approves of much better than, Believe, and be saved.
Let me add to this head, that true faith considers the price of it, and what it cost. The price is set down, Eph. 1: 19, 20; which test is often weighed by a believing soul, that admires at that power that wrought faith in it. Whereas a counterfeit and common faith cost but little. Education, converse, example, custom, and common convictions contributed to the breeding of it; which, therefore, will not endure in a time of sharp persecution. Common faith sees it no such hard matter to be a believer. True faith sees an almighty power, as the author and begetter of it. The preciousness of faith may be considered, as it makes conscience precious. How is it that the dear purchase of pardon and reconciliation by Christ, the deep humiliations, contritions, and sorrows for sins, by repentance, make a true believer exceeding tender of sinning against God? If one that has this true faith might have a whole kingdom given him for the committing of one sin, as the telling of a lie, the omitting of a duty, knowingly, wittingly, and willfully, he would scorn the motion. Precious faith makes sin rare to a believer; and to see sin most vile, makes faith most precious, because it keeps a due distance between the precious and the vile.
Now common and counterfeit faith makes no such distinction, no such separation; knows no such awe and tenderness; admits of the prevalency of corruption with the eminency of privileges, the power of ungodliness with the form of godliness; sees no such unhandsomeness, nor uncomeliness, to have the money-changers in the temple; does not think that there is such need of that strictness, niceness, and circumspection among believers. This creed-faith, baptism-faith, supper-faith – in a word, this tradition, profession, conviction-faith, that is a stranger to this preciousness and power, will in case make no great matter of handling and taking up a sin, or letting alone or letting fall a duty, if men see not or say nothing. Outward profession and performances are its paint; natural conscience, credit, interest, custom, or company are its pulleys.
True faith dares not commit a secret sin, and suspects itself in a public duty; will choose the greatest affliction, rather than the lest sin; does not aggravate the suffering to be undergone, and extenuate the obligation to the duty to be performed; nor minces to an indifferency the unlawfulness of the thing to be complied with, that trouble may be avoided; but speaks on this wise: - Let me not offend God; let me keep a good conscience whatever I endure; a wounded conscience will be a thousand times a greater torment to me, than any persecutor can inflict upon me; I will keep the path of duty, and I dare trust God with the issue; He never forsakes those that put their trust and confidence in Him; my work is to believe and wait, and not to consult flesh and blood, and mingle my carnal reason and interest with my profession of Him, to go no further in religion than I can do it safely, and with much damage to myself; - which is the guise and genius of the formal faith, & c.
I should not proceed to a third account of the preciousness of this true faith, with reference to communion and conversation, and its preciousness and usefulness therein. That God may give you more light into the mystery of faith, is the prayer of your well-wisher to your faith and joy,
Thos. Hardcastle