1783 January 16
My dear Madam,
I know not what you think of me, but I know I am ashamed of myself, that I let your obliging and welcome letters lie by me so long unanswered; and especially that I have not before now transmitted to you Mrs Newton’s thanks and my own for all the good things you sent us.
I have nothing to add to the subject of my last, but that I am more confirmed in the propriety of the advice I offered, by finding that such advice was unnecessary, and that you had determined agreeably to it before you heard from me.
I am obliged to you for wishing me lawn-sleeves because I know your intention; but the red-hat which you mention afterwards is not much farther out of my track than the other; and if my heart does not greatly deceive me, my inclination is about equally averse from them both. The truth is I account myself a Bishop already, [1] and I do not believe that if I was a Lord Bishop tomorrow, I should be either wiser, more useful, or more happy than I am at present.
But when after desiring my thoughts upon that secret intercourse which passes between God and the soul of everyone that is born again, you add, I do not mean according to the height of your own blessed experience, I must confess you hurt me. My dear Madam what shall I, what can I say to this? My own experience is I hope in one sense blessed. It is the experience of a poor, vile, inconsistent sinner, who has nothing but the free promise of the Gospel to preserve him from sinking into despair, and who is sometimes amazed that what he feels and knows within, does not utterly stop his mouth, and his hand, from ever speaking or writing another word concerning those great truths of God, which have so little effect upon his own heart. If you truly knew me, you would be sensible that you might with as much propriety compliment a beggar upon the elegance and richness of his furniture and wardrobe, as speak to me of ‘the height of my blessed experience’. I must entreat you not to use such language to me; every fibre and feeling in my frame contradicts it, and is pained by it. This is not affectation, nor intended to make you think me very humble. It is the force of truth and fact. I know myself to be very different from what you think me, as certainly as I know that I am not ten feet high.
As to the point of communion with God, Omicron’s letter on that subject, and the character of C_ and some letters in Cardiphonia, particularly that on the name Christian, express all my ideas and much more than my actual experience of the matter, and I may perhaps as well refer you to them for I can hardly substitute anything more to the purpose. [2] Poor and vile as I have acknowledged myself to be, I have through mercy received a desire for this intercourse, and some knowledge of it, but was I to describe it only according to the height of my own experience, I am persuaded I should not satisfy you. I am however permitted and enabled to hope in the name of Jesus – I wish to serve him in sincerity and truth, his goodness supplies me for public service, and his mercy preserves me from becoming a public offence. In my better judgement there is nothing in earth or heaven worthy of being compared with him – nothing so desirable at present as conformity to his image and devotedness to his will. But all this is compatible with such horrid proofs of an evil nature, as would make you tremble, if I could relate them. But this I neither can if I would nor durst if I could. He only knows me, who only can bear with me. And because it is given me in some small measure to know him and to rest in him for my whole salvation, my head is kept, as we say, above water. I have a peace at the bottom of all my conflicts, and a consciousness that his I am, and that him I desire to serve.
I saw Mr Morse since I received your letter. A while ago I hoped he would have been provided for by the interposition of Lord D_ but the prospect was suddenly clouded. I am his friend and wish to serve him. I have heard his story and have no reason to disbelieve him, but candour and justice seem to require that both sides should be heard before final decision is made. I have usually found that when there have been misunderstandings there have been faults on both sides. And I can easily suppose, that Mr Morse’s disappointment might hurt his spirit, put him off his guard, and render his first interview with Mr Peckwell [3] not so agreeable, as it might have been, if he had formed no such expectations. On that first interview the comfort of their future connection would depend. If there was dislike at first, it might easily lay a foundation for farther dislike, and mutually dispose them to take things by the wrong handle. I shall not be sorry they are to part, provided poor Mr Morse may be provided for, and I hope the Lord will both teach him to profit by what has passed, and take care of him in future. The school of the Cross is not pleasant to the flesh, but we cannot well learn to know ourselves, to cease from our own understandings and plans, and to feel our dependence upon the Lord, without taking now and then a lesson in that school. I hope all will work together for good. For myself though I would be glad to do good, I wish not to burn my fingers by meddling much with matters in which I am not properly concerned, and of which I can be but imperfectly informed.
You may be assured that we want no persuasion to visit Sleaford, if opportunity should offer. We would wish to give you every proof that we were greatly pleased and obliged by your favouring us with so much of your company when you were in London, and of course, to pay you in kind (as well we could) were it in our power. But if not, we will feed upon the hope of seeing you here again sometime, if we are all spared. But to meet above will be best of all. Your letter gives us hope of seeing Mr Gardiner before long. Please to give our respects to him, and tell him we shall be very glad to hear his knock at our door.
Mrs Newton has had a favourable winter in point of health, and the Lord still surrounds and follows us with many mercies. Friends, and of course engagements are rather upon the increase. This is the first forenoon I have been at home and alone for several weeks, and I have gladly employed the greatest part of it in writing to you. We join in our best love, begging and believing you will continue to afford us your prayers – And that you will believe me to be, sincerely,
Dear Madam,
Your affectionate and obliged servant
John Newton
Hoxton ye 16 January 1783
[to]
Mrs Gardiner
Sleaford
Lincolnshire
[Written on the back: published in “L'Observateur Chrétien” Isle of Jersey 2nd November 1833]
[Published as ‘No. 10’ in full except for the last 2 sentences on Mr Gardiner in the second to last paragraph]
Endnotes:
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[1] |
In the KJV, Paul’s greeting in Philippians 1:1 includes the ‘bishops’, translated in the ESV and elsewhere as the ‘overseers’. |
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[2] |
In Twenty-six letters on religious subjects by Omicron [i.e. Newton], he ascribed the letters A, B, C to three letters on the progress of a work of grace. The third of these, ‘C’, is characterised by contemplation, or communion with God. In his 24th letter to Lord Dartmouth in Cardiphonia he shared ‘a few thoughts’ on the meaning of the name ‘Christian’. |
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[3] |
Henry Peckwell (1747–1787), chaplain to the Countess of Huntingdon, rector of Bloxham (Bloxholm-cum-Digby) from 1782. Peckwell was also a medical Doctor, founding ‘The Sick Man’s Friend’. He died from an infection acquired during an autopsy. |
Acknowledgements:
Morgan Museum and Library MA733.17
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