Letter 8.

LETTER 8.

To Richard Hill, Esq.

HON. AND DEAR SIR, — Having endeavoured, in my last, to convince you out of your own mouth, that undisguised Calvinism and speculative Antinomianism exactly coincide, before I turn from you to face your brother, I beg leave to vindicate good works from an aspersion, which zealous Calvinists perpetually cast upon them. For as practical Antinomianism destroys the fruits of righteousness, as a wild boar does the fruit of the vine; so speculative Antinomianism besprinkles them with filth, as an unclean bird does the produce of our orchards.

Hence it is, that you charge me (Review, p. 69,) with “vile slander,” for insinuating that our free-grace preachers do not “raise the superstructure in good works.” Page 41, as if you wanted to demonstrate the truth of my “vile slander,” you say, “Though we render the words cala erga, ‘good works,’ yet the exact translation is ‘ornamental works;’ and truly, when brought to the strictness of the law, they do not deserve the name of ‘good.’ But, however grating the expression may sound to those who hope to gain a second justification by their works, yet we have Scripture authority to call them dung, dross, and filthy rags.”

Now, sir, if Scripture authorizes us to call them thus, they are undoubtedly very useless, loathsome, and abominable; and the Minutes, which highly recommend them, are certainly dreadfully heretical. I must then lose all my controversial labour, or once more take up the shield of truth, and quench this fiery (should I not say, this “filthy”) dart, which you have thrown at St. James’ undefiled religion: I begin with your criticism.

I. “Though we render the words cala erga, good works, yet the exact translation is ornamental works.” I apprehend, sir, you are mistaken. The Greek word calav exactly answers to the Hebrew (bwc,) which conveys the joint ideas of goodness and beauty. Before there was any “filthy rag” in the world, “God saw every thing that he had made; and behold it was (dam bwc) very good,” which the Septuagint very exactly renders cala lian. Fully to overthrow your criticism, I need only to observe, that good works are called good, with the very same word by which the goodness of the law, and the excellence of the lawgiver are expressed. For St. Paul, speaking of the law, Romans 7:16, says that it is calov, “good;” and our Lord, speaking of himself, says “I am o woimhn o calov, the GOOD Shepherd.” Now, sir, as you are too pious to infer from the word Greek calov, that neither the law nor Christ “deserved to be called good,” I hope you will be candid enough to give up your similar inference concerning good works.

Inconsistency is the badge of error. You give us, if I mistake not, a proof of it, by telling us with one breath that “good works do not deserve the name of good,” but that of “ornamental;” and, with the next, that Scripture authorizes us to call them “dung, dross, and filthy rags.” Are then dung, dross, and filthy rags ornamental things? or did you try to render Geneva criticism as famous as Geneva logic? But,

II. You have recourse to divinity as well as to criticism: for you say, “When good works are brought to the strictness of the law, they do not deserve the name of good.” I answer: If our Lord himself called them good, it does not become us to insinuate that in so doing he passed a wrong judgment, and countenanced “proud justiciars” in their legal error. With respect to the “strictness of the law,” which you so frequently urge, your frightful notions about it cannot drive us into Antinomianism; because we think that Christ and St. Paul were better acquainted with the law than Calvin and yourself. If “all the law and the prophets hang on the grand commandment of love,” as our Lord informs us; and if “he that loveth another hath fulfilled the law,” as the apostle declares, we see no reason to believe that the law condemns as “dung” the labour of that love by which it is fulfilled, and rejects as “filthy rags” works which Christ himself promises to crown with eternal rewards. You probably reply: —

III. “Many Pharisees go to church without devotion, and many fornicators give alms without charity, fancying that such good works make amends for their sins, and merit heaven.” Good works, do you call them? The Scriptures never gave them that honourable name. They are the hypocritical righteousness of unbelief, and not “works meet for repentance,” or “the fruits of the righteousness of faith.” Treat them as you please, but spare good works. It is as unjust to asperse good works on their account, as to hang the honest men who duly carry on the king’s coinage at the mint, because the villains who counterfeit his majesty’s coin evidently deserve the gallows.

IV. Should you object that “the best works have flaws, blemishes, and imperfections; and therefore may properly be called dung, dross, and filthy rags,” I deny the consequence. The best guineas may have their flaws: nay, some dust or dirt may accidentally cleave to them; but this does not turn them into dross. As therefore a good guinea is gold, and not dross, though it has some accidental blemishes; so, God himself being judge, a good work is a good work, and not a filthy rag, though it is not free from all imperfections.

V. Not so, do you say? “We have Scripture authority to call good works filthy rags.” You build, it seems, your mistakes upon Isaiah 64:6, “All our righteousness are as filthy rags:” a passage which, upon mature consideration, I beg leave to rescue from the hands of the Calvinists. The Jews were extremely corrupted in the days of Isaiah: hence he opens his prophecy by calling the rich, “Ye rulers of Sodom,” and the poor, “Ye people of Gomorrah.” And what says he to them? “How is the faithful city become a harlot! Righteousness lodged in it, but now murderers!” Yet these murderers hypocritically went on keeping their Sabbaths and new moons. They “fasted,” but it was “for strife,” and “to smite with the fist of wickedness.” They “made many prayers,” and offered multitudes of sacrifices, but “their hands were full of blood.” Nor did they consider that he who, under these circumstances, “sacrifices an ox, is as if he slew a man.”

This corruption of the Jews, though general, was not universal: for the Lord of hosts had left to them a remnant, though very small. Now Isaiah, one of that very little flock, being humbled at the sight of the general wickedness of his people, confesses it in the first person (we) as ministers always do on such occasions; and he uses the word all, because the small remnant of the righteous was as lost in the multitude of the wicked. The verse, taken in connection with the context, runs thus’ “Thou meetest him that rejoiceth, and worketh righteousness, those that remember thee in thy ways.” But, alas! we are not the people. “ Behold, thou art wroth, for we have sinned. We are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags.” Therefore, instead of meeting us, as thou dost the righteous, thou hast hid thy face from us, and hast consumed us because of our iniquities. “We all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away:” so far are we from resembling the righteous, who “are like a tree planted by the water side, whose leaf does not wither.” Who does not see that the prophet here opposes the happiness of the righteous to the misery of the wicked? And that it is the hypocritical righteousness of the ungodly, and not the precious obedience of believers, which he compares to filthy rags?

VI. However, “We have Scripture authority to call good works dross.” Your mind, I suppose, runs upon Isaiah 1:22, 25, where God expostulates with the obstinate Jews, by saying, “Thy silver is become dross,” thy righteousness is all hypocrisy:

yet, if thou returnest, “I will purge away thy dross,” I will make thee truly righteous. Is it not evident, that it is hypocrisy and bad works, not good works, which God here calls dross? Will he, think you, purge away good works from his people? Is it not enough that armies of Antinomians do the devil that service? Must we also suppose that God promises to be his drudge?

VII. But, “we have Scripture authority to call good works dung.” Not at all: for the two passages you probably think of, are against you. In the first, God speaks to the disobedient Jews, and says, “If ye will not hear, and give glory unto my name, I will send a curse upon you: yea, I have cursed your blessings already. Behold, I will spread upon your faces the dung of your solemn feasts,” Malachi 2:2, 3. Now, sir, who does not see by the context that festivals kept by cursed hypocrites are called dung, and not the solemn worship performed by penitent believers?

If you quote Philippians 3:8, it will be to as little purpose. Do you tightly understand that passage? “I count all things but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ, and be found in him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ.” You know, sir, that the apostle once made far too much of his privileges as a Jew, his morals as an honest man, and his observance of the law as a strict disciple of Moses. And you remember that when he wrapped himself up in that kind of external righteousness, his heart breathed nothing but contempt toward Christ, and slaughter against his people. What wonder is it that he should count such a righteousness, together with all earthly, perishing things, loss and dung, for Christ? Who does not see that it was not the precious righteousness of faith, which consists in pardon, acceptance, and power to do good works, but the paltry righteousness of an unbeliever, a blasphemer, a murderer? Should you say that when the apostle declares, “he counts all things but dung, that he may be found in Christ,” he certainly includes good works, and counts them dung: I reply, You have as good reason to say that he certainly includes repentance, faith, obedience, grace, and glory, and counts them dung also!

Some gentlemen invite you to go a hunting, or play at cards, to keep you from the sessions; and you answer, “I am determined to do my duty. Once your sports were gain to me, but now I count them but loss of time: yea, doubtless, I count all things, that stand in competition with my office, vile and contemptible as dung’ they no more tempt me to pursue them, than yonder dung hill tempts me to take my rest; I am ready to trample upon them as filthy dust, rather than not to be found upon the bench doing my duty as a magistrate: not according to my own former mistaken notions of justice, but according to the equitable laws of my country.” Now, sir, should I not very much wrong you if I inferred from your very generous answer that you call doing justice dung? And do you not greatly wrong St. Paul, when, upon a pretence equally frivolous, you insinuate that he gave to good works such an injurious name? That he called the will of God, done in faith by the Spirit of Christ, dung?

Again: when the apostle prayed to “be found in Christ, not having his own Pharisaic righteousness, which was of the letter of the law, but the righteousness which is of God by faith;” is it not evident that (beside the desire of being pardoned and accepted through faith in Christ) he wished to be found to the last a branch grafted “in the true vine,” by faith? A living branch, filled with the righteous sap of the root that bore him? A branch made fruitful by the principle of all acceptable righteousness, which is “Christ in us, the hope of glory?” And, to use his own words in this very epistle, a branch “filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus Christ to the glory of God?” Philippians 1:11, compared with 3:9. Let men of reason and religion say if this sense is not more agreeable to the letter of Scripture in general, and the apostle’s words in particular, than the fantastic imputation of righteousness, which Calvinists build upon them. An imputation this, which constitutes a man righteous, while he commits adultery, murder, or incest. Is it not deplorable that such an unscriptural and unnatural idea should ever have entered the minds of pious men? Especially when St. John says, “Little children, let no man deceive you: he that does righteousness” and not barely he for whom Christ hath done righteousness, “is righteous?” Is it not lamentable that good men, influenced by prejudice, should be able to persuade thousands that St. John meant, “Let not Mr. Wesley deceive you; he that actually liveth with another man’s wife, worships abominable idols, and commits incest with his father’s wife, may not only be righteous, but complete in imputed righteousness; in a righteousness which exceeds, not only the righteousness of the Pharisees, but the personal righteousness of converted Paul, and of the brightest angel in glory!”

O sir, if you have told it in Paris, tell it not in Constantinople, lest the daughters of the Mohammedans bless God, that, lewd and bloody as their prophet was, he never so far lost sight of morality and decency as to give Mussulmen a cloak, under the specious name of a “robe of righteousness,” under which they can curse, swear, and get drunk, commit adultery, robbery, murder, and incest, without being less righteous than if they had kept all the commandments of God; less in favour with the Most High than if they had personally abounded in all the works of piety, mercy, and self denial, which adorned the life of Jesus Christ; and less interested in finished salvation than if they were already in glory. O sir, is not this doctrine more dangerous than that of transubstantiation? Is it not more dishonourable to Christ, more immoral, and consequently more pernicious to society? And would it not absolutely destroy the morals of all those who receive it, if our Lord, for his name’s sake, did not in mercy deny to thousands of them sense or attention, to draw a dreadful conclusion from their dreadful premises; while he graciously gives to thousands more hearts infinitely better than their immoral principles!

Having thus endeavoured to rescue the passages on which you found your assertion concerning good works, and proved that there is not one scripture which gives you the least authority to call them either dung, dross, or filthy rags; to convince you that a heap of impious absurdities lies concealed under that doctrine, permit me to produce some of the scriptures where good works are mentioned: and to substitute to that phrase the hard names which, you tell us, the Scripture authorizes you to call them. “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, [i.e. your dung,] and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” “She has wrought a good work [i.e. a filthy rag] upon me, against my burial.” “Dorcas was full of good works,” [i.e. of dung and rags.] “God make you to abound in every good work,” i.e. in every sort of dung and dross. “We are created in Christ Jesus to good works,” i.e. to filthy rags, “which God had prepared for us to walk in.” “Walk worthy of the Lord, being fruitful in every good work,” i.e. in every filthy rag. “God establish you in every good work,” i.e. in dung of every sort. “Provoke one another to love and good works,” i.e. to dross and rags. “Be zealous of good works,” i.e. of filthy rags. “Be rich in good works,” i.e. in dross. “Be careful to maintain good works,” i.e. dung. “Let the Gentiles by your good works,” i.e. your dung, “which they shall behold, glorify God in the day of visitation.” “Be thoroughly furnished to every good work: be perfect in every good work,” i.e. in dung and dross of every kind.

“Blessed are they that die in the Lord, for their works,” i.e. their dung and rags, “follow them.” “God is not unrighteous, to forget your work,” i.e. your dung, “that proceedeth of love.” “The Gentiles should do works,” i.e. dung, “meet for repentance.” “Esteem ministers highly in love for their work’s [i.e. their dung’s,] sake.” “If he have not works,” i.e. dung, “can faith save him?” “Faith without works,” i.e. without filthy rags, “is dead.” “By works,” i.e. dung, “was Abraham’s faith made perfect.” “He and Rahab were justified by works,” by filthy rags. “He that believeth in me, the works that I do shall he do also, and greater works than these,” i.e. filthier rags, and more ornamental dung, “shall he do.” “This is the work,” i.e. the dung, “of God, that you believe,” &c.

Indeed, sir, I am almost ashamed to take up the “filthy rag” of this bad divinity, though it is only with the point of my pen, to hold it out a moment to public view, that the world may be sick of barefaced Antinomianism. I drop it again into the sink of defiled religion, out of which Dr. Crisp raked it; and beg for the honour of Christ and your own, that you will no more recommend it as pure Gospel.

And now, dear sir, permit me to expostulate a moment with you. Against whom have you employed your pen, when you have taught the world to call good works dung, dross, and filthy rags; pretending to have authority from the Scripture thus to revile the best thing under heaven? Is it only against the “proud justiciars?” Is it not also indirectly, though I am persuaded undesignedly, against the adorable trinity? Has not the Father “created us to good works?” Did not the Son “redeem us, that we might be a people zealous of good works?” And does not the Holy Ghost sanctify us, that “all our works being begun, continued, and ended in him, we may glorify God’s holy name,” and cause it to be glorified by all around us? What harm did good works ever do you, or any one, that you should decry them in so public a manner as you have done? Did you ever duly consider their nature and excellence? Or have you condemned them in a hurry, without so much as casting an attentive look upon them? Permit me to bring them to you, as God brought the beasts of the field to Adam, that he might give them names according to their nature; and tell me which of them you will call dung, which dross, and which filthy rags? First, then, what objection have you against the good works of the heart? Against the awaking out of sin, returning to God, repenting, offering the sacrifice of a contrite spirit, and believing unto righteousness? What objection against trusting in the Lord Jehovah, in whom is everlasting strength? casting the anchor of our hope within the veil? loving God for himself, and all mankind for God’s sake? Do you see any of these good works of the heart that look like a “filthy rag?”

No sooner is the “inward man of the heart” truly engaged in any one of the preceding works, than the outward man is all in motion. The candle of the Lord is not lighted in the soul to be “put under a bushel,” and extinguished, but to be set as “on a candlestick” of the body, “that it may give light to all” around, and that men “seeing our light, may glorify our heavenly Father.” Hence arise several classes of external good works. Consider the man of God as he is clothed with a corruptible body, which must be nourished without being pampered. He “keeps it under,” by moderate fasting or abstinence. He “daily denies himself, and takes up his cross.” He works with cheerful diligence. He eats, drinks, or sleeps, “with gladness and singleness of heart;” and if he is sick, he bears his pain with joyful resignation, doing or suffering “all to the glory of God,” in the spirit of sacrifice, and “in the name of the Lord Jesus.”

View him in his family. Not satisfied with mental prayer, he bends the knee “to his Father who sees in secret;” and not contented with private devotions, he reads to his assembled household select portions of God’s word, and solemnly worships him with them “in spirit and in truth.” Nor does he think, that doing his duty toward God excuses him from fulfilling it toward his neighbour. Just the reverse. Because his soul is all reverence to his heavenly Father, it is all respect to his earthly parents. Because he ardently loves the Bridegroom of souls, he feels the warmest regard for his wife, he bears the tenderest, and yet the most rational affection to his children. Nor is he less desirous that his servants should serve God and “work out their salvation,” than he is that they should serve him and do his work. Hence arise his familiar instructions, mild reproofs, earnest entreaties, encouraging exhortations. His strict honesty and meekness of wisdom, his moderation and love of peace are known to all around him; and even those who despise his piety are forced to speak well of his morals.

Behold his works as a member of society in general. In his little sphere of action he makes his star “to shine upon the just and the unjust,” his charity is universal. To the utmost of his ability he opposes vice, countenances virtue, promotes industry, and patronizes despised piety. Humble faith kindles him into “a burning and shining light:” he is a minister of the God of all mercies, he is a flaming fire. He feeds Christ in the hungry, gives him drink in the thirsty, clothes him in the naked, entertains him in strangers, attends him on sick beds, visits him in prisons, and comforts him in the mournful apartments, where the guilty are stretched on the rack of despair, or where the godly, forsaken of their friends, pledge their dying Lord with the dregs of the cup of sorrow. How easily does he overlook the unkindness of his neighbours! How readily does he forgive injuries! How cordially heaps he coals of melting fire upon the heads of his enemies! How sincerely does he pray for all his slanderers and persecutors! And how ardently desire “to grow in grace,” and endeavour “to adorn” more and more “the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things!”

Consider him as a member of a religious society. How excellent, how Divine are his works! He respectfully holds up the hands of his minister, and kindly bears the burdens of his brethren. He watches over them for good, “rejoices with those that rejoice, “and “mourns with those that mourn.” He compassionately sympathizes with the tempted, impartially reproves sin, meekly restores the fallen, and cheerfully animates the dejected. Like undaunted Caleb, he spirits up the fearful; and, like valiant Joshua, he leads them to the conquest of Canaan; and goes on “from conquering to conquer.”

And suppose he “went on even unto perfection,” and “took the kingdom of heaven by violent” faith, and humble, patient, importunate prayer; would you call him a filthy rag man, and insinuate that he had only done a dung work? O, sir, if you can so publicly call good works, dross, dung, and filthy rags; and (what is worse still) assert, that the Holy Ghost in the Scriptures, authorizes you so to do; who will wonder to see you represent the doctrine of Christian perfection as a pernicious Popish heresy, which turns men “into temporary monsters?” Would you be consistent, if you did not rise against it with the collected might of credulous uncharitableness, and barefaced Antinomianism? For,

What is, after all, the perfection that Mr. Wesley contends for? Nothing but two good works, productive of ten thousand more; or, if you please, two large filthy rags, in which ten thousand other filthy rags are wrapped; that is, “loving God with all our hearts, and our neighbour as ourselves.” it is nothing but “perfect love shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost given unto us,” making us “steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord,” always “zealous of good works,” always the reverse of the easy elect, who, by means of Calvin’s contrivance, are “all fair and undefiled,” while they wallow in the adulterer’s mire, and the murderer’s gore. Or, in other terms, it is nothing but Christ, through the Holy Spirit, “dwelling in our hearts by faith,” and making us always “zealous of good works.” Now, if good works are dross, dung, and filthy rags; it is evident that perfection is a rich mine of dross; a heap of dung, as immense as that which Hercules got out of Augeas’ stables; and a vast store house of filthy rags, spun by “proud justiciars,” as cobwebs are by venomous spiders. In this wrong view of Christian perfection, I no more wonder to see multitudes of careless professors agree, like Pilate and Herod, to destroy it out of the earth; nor am I surprised to hear even good, mistaken people cry out, “Down with it! down with it!” While I complain of their want of candour, I commend their well-meant zeal, and wish it may flame out against objects worthy of their detestation; against perfection itself, suppose it is what they imagine. Yes, if it is a mine of “dross,” let them drown it: I give my consent; but let them do it with the floods of Scripture and argument. If it is a dung hill in the Church, let them carry it out, and permit even the swine, which come “from wallowing in the mire,” to shake themselves upon it: I will not say it is improper. If it is a repository of filthy rags, more infectious than those which convey the jail distemper or the plague; let them agree to set fire to it, and burn it down to the ground: but let them do it with “fire from the altar,” and not with “tongues set on fire” of prejudice or malice.

But if Christian perfection is (next to angelic perfection) the brightest and richest jewel which Christ purchased for us by his blood; if it is the internal kingdom of God ruling over all; if it is Christ fully formed in our hearts, the full hope of glory; if it is the fulfilment of the promise of the Father, that is, “the Holy Ghost given unto us,” to make us abound in righteousness, peace, and joy, through believing; and in a word, if it is the Shekinah, filling the Lord’s human temples with glory; is it right, sir, to despise it as some do, or to expose it as you have so frequently done?

Should you apologize for your conduct, by saying, “I have only treated YOUR perfection as you have treated OUR finished salvation, and OUR imputed righteousness:” I reply, The case is widely different. I hope I have made it appear, that you have not one single text in all the Bible to prove that a bloody adulterer (in flagrante delicto) stands complete in imputed righteousness; or that the salvation of idolatrous and incestuous apostates, who now work out their damnation with both hands, is actually finished, in the full extent of the expression. The whole stream of God’s word runs counter to these “Antinomian dotages.” Nor are they less repugnant to conscience and common sense, than to the law and the prophets. But you cannot find one word in all the Scriptures against the pure love of God and our neighbour, against perfect love, which is all the perfection we encourage believers to press after. The law and the Gospel, the Old and the New Testament, are equally for it. All who are “filled with the Spirit,” sweetly experience it. A heathen, that fears God and regards man, cannot speak evil of it, but through misapprehension. And even while, through the amazing force of prejudice, you write against it with so much severity, it recommends itself to your own reason, and conscience. Are you not then, dear sir, under a mistake, when you think you may take the same liberty with God’s undeniable truth, which I have taken with Dr. Crisp’s indefensible error?

Permit me to state the case more fully still. Mr. Wesley cries to believers’ “It is your privilege so to believe in Christ, and receive the Spirit, as to ‘love God with all your hearts, and your neighbours as yourselves.’” And you say to them: “Mr. Wesley is blinder than a Papist, regard not his heretical words. Your salvation is finished. Whatever lengths you go in sin, you are as sure of heaven as if you were already there. It is your privilege to commit adultery, murder, and incest, not only without fearing that the Lord will be displeased with you; but conscious that, black as ye are in yourselves by the actual commission of these crimes, through Christ’s comeliness put upon you, God can address each of you with, Thou art all fair, my love, my undefiled, there is no spot in thee!” (Five Letters, p. 28.) Now, sir, are you not a partial judge, when, by way of retaliation, you serve the holy doctrine maintained by Mr. Wesley, as I have served the unholy tenet propagated by Calvin and yourself?

Think you, really, that because a judge, after a fair trial, justly condemns a notorious robber to be hanged; another judge, to retaliate, has a right to quarter a good man, after a mock trial, or rather without any trial at all? And do you suppose, that because Jehu deservedly made “the house of Baal a draught house;” or because Josiah burned dead men’s bones upon the unhallowed “altar in Bethel,” to render it detestable to idolaters, Antiochus had a right to turn the temple of the Lord into a stye, and to pollute “the altar of incense,” by burning “dung. and filthy rags” upon it, that true worshippers might abominate the offering of the Lord, and loathe the holy of holies? Thus, however, have you (inadvertently I hope) treated good works and Christian perfection, which are ten thousand times more sacred and precious in the sight of God than the holy, and the most holy place in the temple of Jerusalem.

And now, dear sir, please to look at the preceding list of the good works, which adorn the Christian’s breast, or blazon his shining character; and tell us if there is one, which, upon second thoughts, you object against as a nuisance: one, which you would put away like “dross;” one, which you would have carried out of his apartment as “dung,” or remove from his pious breast as a “filthy rag.”

Methinks I hear you answer, “Not one. May they all abound more and more in my heart and life, and in the hearts and lives of all God’s people!” Methinks that all the Church militant and triumphant cry out, “Amen!” A Divine power accompanies their general exclamation. The veil of prejudice begins to rend. Your honest heart relents. You acknowledge that Calvinism has deceived you. You retract your unguarded expressions. The Spirit of holiness, whom you have grieved, returns. The heavenly light shines. The Antinomian charm is broken. “Dross” is turned into fine gold; “dung” into savoury meat, which every believer loveth next to the bread of life; and “filthy rags,” into the “linen, fine and white, which is the righteousness of the saints, and the robe made white in the blood of the Lamb.” Far from pouring contempt, through voluntary humility, upon this precious garment, you give praise to God, and in humble triumph put it on, together with the Lord Jesus Christ.

In that glorious dress you “walk with Christ in white,” and in love with Mr. Wesley. Paris, and the convent of Benedictine monks, disappear. The “New Jerusalem,” and “the tabernacle of God, come down from heaven. Leaving the things that are behind, you solemnly hasten unto the day of the Lord. Following peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord, you daily perfect it in the fear of God.” You feel the amazing difference there is between a real and an imaginary imputation of righteousness. You tear away with honest indignation the pillow of finished salvation from under the head of Laodicean backsliders, who sleep in sin; and of bloody murderers, who defile their neighbour’s bed. You set fire to the fatal canopy, under which you have inadvertently taught them to fancy that the holy and righteous God calls them “My love, my undefiled!” even while they wallow in the poisonous mire of the. most atrocious wickedness. And to undo the harm you have done, or remove the offence you have given by your letters, you show yourself reconciled to St. James’ pure religion; you openly give Mr. Wesley the right hand of fellowship, and gladly help him “to provoke” believer’s to uninterrupted “love and good works,” that is, to Christian perfection.

Such is the delightful prospect which my imagination discovers through the clouds of our controversy; and such are the pleasing hopes that sometimes soothe my polemical toil, and even now make me subscribe myself, with an additional pleasure, honoured and dear sir, your affectionate brother and obedient servant, in the bonds of a pure Gospel,

JOHN FLETCHER.