Instinctive Resentment

 Perhaps we ought to add here, that in these remarks [concerning resentments] we have more especial reference to deliberate and voluntary displeasure or anger, than to that modification of anger, which, in order to distinguish it, is termed instinctive. 

There is at times in man an instinctive resentment, arising very suddenly, but continuing only till the laws of the mind will permit the perceptive and reasoning powers to come to our aid, which during the brief time of its continuance is obviously beyond the control of reason and the will; and which, therefore, may cause a momentary agitation of the physical system and a momentary confusion of the intellect, without our being able to prevent it. To this form of resentment, so far as it is truly and absolutely instinctive, it will be naturally understood, that the remarks, which have [previously] been made, will not fully apply. And the exception, which is interposed here in regard to the Malevolent affections, might very properly be made in respect to those of a different character, which have already been considered. 

When it was held that the benevolent affections should be subjected to the control of the will and to the law of right reason, it obviously could not be meant, that the obligation thus to control them extends to that very sudden and momentary action, which is purely instinctive; and which, in being such, is never reached by the reason and the will, and never has and never can have a moral character. And this can be said, we think, with safety to the suggestion, that if our instincts, as well as other parts of our nature, have become perverted and depraved in the Fall of Adam, so much so as properly to be described as fallen and depraved instincts, they have an indirect relation to the Atonement, and furnish grounds of humiliation and confession.

 — from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 8.

Receiving The Sacrament

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

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When she entered upon the twelfth year of her age, she proposed to partake of the sacrament of the Eucharist.

She acknowledges that for some time previous she had been remiss in religious duties. Some jealousies and disaffections, as is not unfrequently the case, had sprung up among the younger members of her father's family. A feeling of dissatisfaction and melancholy seems to have entered her mind. And as if weary of God, she gave up what little religious inclination and feeling she had, saying, "she was none the better for it," and wickedly implying in the remark, that the troubles connected with religion exceeded the benefit resulting from it. I think it would not be correct to say, that she had given up religion; but rather had given up many favorable feelings and many outward practices, which have a connection with religion. And this remark will perhaps be the better understood, when we say in explanation, that, although she had been interested in religion, it does not appear that she possessed those traits or qualities which really constitute it. Prompted, partly by example, and partly by serious impressions, she had sought it, but had not found it. Her religious interest, as we have already had occasion to notice, varied at different times. At one time, in particular, it seems to have been very great. She seems to have had convictions of sin; she had some desires to live in God's guidance and favor; she formed good resolutions; she had a degree of inward consolation. But when we examine these experiences closely, I think we shall find reason for saying, that such desires, convictions, and resolutions, which often lay near the surface of the mind without stirring very much its inward depths, were, in her case at least, the incidents and preparatives of religion, rather than religion itself. The great inward Teacher, the Holy Ghost, had not as yet dispossessed the natural life, and given a new life in Christ. She herself intimates that her religion was chiefly in appearance; and that self, and not the love of God, was at the bottom.

The suggestion to partake of the sacrament of the Supper, and thus by an outward act at least, to array herself more distinctly on the Lord's side, seems to have originated with her father. In order to bring about what he had near at heart, and which was in accordance with the principles of the church of which he was a member, he placed her again at the Ursuline Seminary. Her paternal half-sister, who still resided there, and who appears to have had some increased and leading responsibility as an instructress, pleased with the suggestion, but at the same time aware of her unfortunate state of mind, labored assiduously to give rise to better inward dispositions. The labors of this patient and affectionate sister, who knew what it was both to believe and to pray, and for whom religion seems to have had a charm above every thing else, were so effectual, that Jeanne Marie now thought, as she expresses it,  "of giving herself to God in good earnest."  The day at length arrived; she felt that the occasion was too important to be trifled with; she made an outward confession of her sins, with apparent sincerity and devoutness, and partook of the sacramental element for the first time with a considerable degree of satisfaction. But the result showed that the heart was not reached. The day of her redemption had not come. The season and its solemnity passed away, without leaving an effectual impression. The sleeping passions were again awaked. "My faults and failings," she says, "were soon repeated, and drew me off from the care and the duties of religion." She grew tall; her features began to develop themselves into that beauty which afterwards distinguished her. Her mother, pleased with her appearance, indulged her in dress.. The combined power of her personal and mental attractions were felt in the young and unreflecting attachments of persons of the other sex. The world resumed its influence, and Christ was in a great degree forgotten.

Such are the changes which often take place in the early history of religious experience. To-day there are serious thoughts, awakened and quickened feelings, and good resolutions; everything wears a propitious aspect. To-morrow, purposes are abandoned, feelings vanish; and the reality of the world takes the place of the anticipations of religion. Today the hearts of mothers and sisters, and of other friends, who have labored long and prayed earnestly for the salvation of those who are dear to them, are cheered and gladdened. To-morrow they find the solicitations to pleasure prevailing over the exhortations to virtue; and those who had been serious and humble for a time, returning again to the world. But it is often the case, that these alternations of feeling, which it is not easy always to explain, have an important connection, under the administration of a higher and divine providence, with the most favorable results.

They may, in many cases, be regarded as constituting a necessary part of that inward training, which the soul must pass through, before it reaches the position of true submission and of permanent love. They show us the great strength of that attachment which binds us to attractions which perish, the things of time and sense. They leave a deep impression of the forbearance and long-suffering of God. They teach the necessity of the special and powerful operations of divine grace, without which the heart, naturally alienated from all attachment to the true object of its love, would perish in its worldly idolatry.

— edited from The Life of Madam Guyon Volume 1, Chapter 2.

Confession and Humility

It ls proper and important also to acknowledge our having sinned against God and to humble ourselves before him on account of sin, because we are thus continually reminded of the unspeakable condescension and mercy of God as manifested in the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ. It is impossible, that a truly holy mind, one that has deeply felt the living God within, should ever forget the depth of its former degradation, however different and however encouraging may be its present state. And whenever it calls to recollection its former pollution, it cannot be otherwise than deeply impressed with a sense of the Savior's wonderful goodness and love. May we not even conjecture, that it will be our privilege through all eternity to remember and to confess our former fallen state? Even in heaven, renewed and purified as we shall be, we shall, in one sense at least, be sinners saved by grace; and shall undoubtedly repeat with joy the song of the ransomed, "Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation."

While it is proper for all to make a confession during life, it is nevertheless true, that the mind of a person, who is truly in a sanctified state, is chiefly occupied with supplications and thanksgivings. Such persons may be said for the most part to be always praying, always supplicating, and in every thing giving thanks. The state of those, who possess this blessing, is very different from the condition of persons, who have nothing but their sins to speak of. Such is their peace of mind, such their delight in God's character, such their sense of inward purity, such their conformity to God's will, that their prevalent state must necessarily be one of divine communion and of holy rejoicing.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 2, Chapter 16.

Confession and the Decietfulness of Sin

It is proper... to confess our sins, because there may be sins in us, and not merely those which result from infirmity and are involuntary, which are seen by the omniscient eye of God, but which may not be obvious to ourselves. We have no doubt that, as a general thing, we may rely upon our consciousness in confirmation of the great fact of perfection in love. Certainly it is a reasonable idea, that, as a general thing, a man may know in himself or in his own consciousness, whether he loves God or not; and whether he loves him with his whole heart or not. At the same time there may occasionally be cases, in which he is left in some degree of doubt. He may through the influence of some sudden temptation, be driven so closely upon the line which separates rectitude from sin, that it is almost impossible for him to tell whether he has kept within it. The Scriptures also recognize the great deceitfulness of the human heart. Who, then, is able, either on philosophical or scripture principles, to assert, absolutely and unconditionally, that he has been free from sin, at least for any great length of time? We may, therefore, with great propriety, even if there were no other reason but this, ask the forgiveness of our trespasses, of our sins, or of whatever God sees amiss in us. And it is unquestionably our duty so to do.

We may add here, that it is generally, and perhaps we may say, universally the case that those, who give good evidence of being in that state which we variously describe as assurance of faith and as perfect love, and which involves the possession of the blessing of present sanctification, speak of their state in a qualified, rather than in an absolute manner. In other words, they generally express themselves, (and it is exceedingly proper that they should do so,) merely as if they hoped or had reason to hope that they had experienced this great blessing, and were kept free from voluntary and known sin. Such a mode of expression seems to be unobjectionable; it is consistent with confession, and corresponds to the precise state of the case.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 2, Chapter 16.

Confession and Infirmity

There is a propriety and a practical importance in the confession of sin, during the whole course of the present life, because our various infirmities, our defects of judgment, our frequent ignorance of the motives and characters of our fel­low-men, and the relatively wrong acts and feelings which originate in these sources from which no one, in the present period of the history of the church, can reasonably expect to be free, require an atonement, as well as our willful or voluntary transgressions. We do not suppose, that it is necessary here to enter into an argument for the purpose of showing, that such imperfections, originally flowing from our fallen condition and our connection with Adam, require the application of Christ' s blood. Such is not only our own belief; but we have reason to believe, that it is a doctrine which is generally conceded by those, who will be likely to take an interest in these inquiries. There are various passages of Scripture, such as Lev. 4:3, and Numb. 15:27-30, which have relation to such infirmities and sins, and which might be properly consulted, if the present were an occasion to enter into a minute examination of the subject.

Confession of Sin is Needed Throughout the Christian Life

Should those, who are so far advanced in the religious life as to be justly regarded as sanctified or holy persons, confess sin? This is a question, which is sometimes asked with a degree of solicitude and from good motives. And besides, it is often adduced as one of the greatest objections to the doctrine of the realization of holiness in the present life, that those, who have experienced it, ought not to, and cannot confess sin.

The confession of sin during the whole course of the present life is exceedingly proper, for various reasons; and in the first place, because sin is an unspeakable evil. We suppose that those, who have experienced a perfected state of faith and love, will understand this remark more fully than others. They have tasted the bitter fruits of sin; they have in many cases endured a severe and terrible contest in driving it from the heart; they are now engaged momentarily in a constant warfare to prevent its re-entrance; they know it is the one great thing and the only thing which separates the soul from God; they know that every sin, even the smallest, is exceedingly heinous in God's sight; they feel that they had rather die a thousand deaths, than voluntarily commit even the smallest sin. Now when they remember, that during a considerable portion of their lives they were sinning against God every day and hour; despising, injuring, and insulting continually that great and good Being, whom now their hearts as continually adore, they are penetrated with the deepest grief. They never, never can forget the greatness of their former degradation and guilt. And, in their present state of mind, they never can remember it, without being, at each distinct retrospection, deeply humbled and penitent. Indeed, as true confession consists much more in the state of the heart than in the expression of the lips, and as the surest mark of true confession is an earnest striving after the opposite of that which is confessed as wrong, those, who are earnestly seeking and practicing holiness, may be said in the highest sense of the terms to be always acknowledging and always lamenting their sin. Their watching, their strife, their warfare is against sin, as the evil and bitter thing which their soul hates; and which their souls shall ever hate whenever and wherever committed, whether by themselves or others, at the present time or  in times past.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 2, Chapter 16.

Sorrow for Sin

"And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger. I  will  arise and go to my father, and  will  say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son."
Luke xv. 17, 18, 19.

In dust and ashes let me humbled lie,
For I have sinned against my God and friend;
Nor ever upward lift my troubled eye,
But only tears let fall and groanings send.
And wilt Thou hear, who, merciful as just,
Dost pity on the bleeding bosom take?
Yes, Thou wilt mark the suppliant in the dust,
The bowed and bruised reed Thou wilt not break!
Here is my hope, and it is only here;
For I have sinned — how much God only knows;
Thy law have broken, put away thy fear,
And caused the sneer and scoffings of thy foes.
Low in the dust my worthless head I lay,
Till God shall hear my prayer, and take my guilt away.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XXIV.

Confession and Repentance

Confession of sin is an important duty; but there is no true confession of sin where there is not at the same time a turning away from it.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CXVIII.

Human Infirmity Requires an Atonement

All mere physical infirmities, which originate in our fallen condition, but which necessarily prevent our doing for God what we should otherwise do; and also all unavoidable errors and imperfections of judgment, which in their ultimate causes result from sin, (we have reference here to Adam’s sin) require an atonement. It seems to be clear, that God constituted the human race on the principle of an unity, or perhaps more precisely, of a close connection, of obligations and interests; linking together man with man, as with bands of iron, in the various civil, social, and domestic relations. And in consequence of the existence of the great connective laws of nature, (laws which our own judgments and consciences alike approve,) it seems to be the case, that we may sometimes justly suffer, in our own persons, results which are of a punitive kind, although in their source flowing from the evil conduct of others rather than our own. And hence it is that the head of a family ordinarily does not sin, without affecting the happiness of its members. Nor does any member of the family ordinarily sin without involving others in the consequences of the transgression. Nor does the head of a community, or of a State, or of any other associated body, commit errors and crimes without a diffusion of the attendant misery through the subordinate parts of the association. In other words, an union or association of relations and interests, whether it be established by ourselves or by that higher Being with whose wisdom we ought ever to be satisfied, necessarily induces a common liability to error, suffering, and punishment.