Faith is the Source of All True Feeling

Faith is the source, the parent of all true feeling. And in saying this, we ought to add, that we use the term feeling in a general sense; meaning by it not merely the emotions, to which it is sometimes limited, but those other modifications of our sensibilities, which we include under the denomination of the desires and affections.

And it is proper to say here, that faith is the source, the parent of all true feeling and affection in the natural sense, as well as in the religious sense. Certain it is, that this statement admits of an easy and a satisfactory illustration in the case of the affection of love. It requires no proof to sustain the assertion, that natural love is based upon natural faith. If we have entire confidence in another, if we believe him to be amiable and pure in feeling, and upright in principle, it is the natural result of such confidence, that we shall love him. And on the other hand, it will be very difficult, and I think we may say, it will be found naturally impossible for a person to love another, (except, perhaps, with that lower form of love, which is synonymous with pity or sympathy,) in whom he has no faith. And the same confidence, the same faith, which inspires the affection of love in the first instance, gives it permanency in time to come. The one perpetuates itself in company with the other. Suggestions may arise, and temptations may assail us, but love will live, if confidence does not perish. But how soon does our love to a person, to whom we were once devotedly attached, cease, when our faith in him ceases! No sooner is the confidence, which we reposed in his amiability, in his truth and honor, and other estimable qualities, taken away; in other words, no sooner is our faith in the existence of these traits taken away, than the love, which rested upon it, falls at once to the ground.

The law of the religious affections is the same. They always imply the antecedent existence of faith. Religious faith, sustained by the Holy Spirit, but operating in a manner entirely analogous to the operations of natural faith, is undoubtedly the true basis of religious love. Without the key of faith the foundation of divine love, which refreshes and gives beauty to the whole soul, would never be opened within us. It would be impossible; because it would obviously be a result, not only without reason, but against reason. It is because we believe or have faith in God as just, benevolent and holy, as possessed of every possible perfection calculated to attract and secure our love, that we love him.

— from The Life of Faith (1852) Part 1, Chapter 6.

Quietude and Inordinate Desires

The state of internal quietude implies a cessation or rest from unrestrained and inordinate desires and affections.

Such a cessation becomes comparatively easy, when God has become the ruling idea in the thoughts; and when other ideas, which are vain, wandering, and in other ways inconsistent with it, are excluded. This rest or stillness of the affections, when it exists in the highest degree, is secured by perfect faith in God, necessarily resulting in perfect love. We have already had occasion to say that perfect faith implies, in its results, perfect love. How can we possibly have perfect faith in God, perfect confidence that he will do all things right and well, when at the same time we are wanting in love to him? From perfect faith, therefore, perfect love necessarily flows out, baptizing, as it were, and purifying all the subordinate powers of the soul. In other words, under the influence of this predominating principle, the perfect love of God resting upon perfect faith in God, the harmony of the soul becomes restored; the various appetites, propensities, and affections act each in their place and all concurrently; there are no disturbing and jarring influences, and the beautiful result is that quietness of spirit, which is declared to be "in the sight of God of great price."

Those, who are privileged by divine assistance, to enjoy this interior rest and beautiful stillness of the passions, are truly lovely to the beholder. The wicked are like the troubled sea, that cannot rest, tossed about by conflicting passions, and are not more unhappy in themselves, than they are unlovely in the sight of holy beings. There is a want of interior symmetry and union; that guiding principle of divine love, which consolidates and perfects the characters of holy beings, is absent; the lower parts of their nature have gained the ascendency, and there is internal jarring and discord and general moral deformity. In such a heart God does not and cannot dwell. How different is the condition of that heart, which is pervaded by the power of a sanctifying stillness, and which, in the cessation of its own jarring noise, is prepared to listen to the "still small voice!" It is here that God not only takes up his abode, but continually instructs, guides, and consoles.

On this part of the subject, in order to prevent any misapprehension, we make two brief remarks. The first is, that the doctrine of stillness or quietude of the desires and passions, does not necessarily exclude an occasional agitation arising from the instinctive part of our nature. The INSTINCTS are so constituted, that they act, not by cool reason and reflection, but by an inexpressibly quick and agitated movement. Such is their nature. Such agitation is entirely consistent with holiness. And it is not unreasonable to suppose, that even the amazement and fears, which are ascribed to our blessed Savior at certain periods of his life, are to be attributed to the operation of this part of his nature, which is perfectly consistent with entire resignation and with perfect confidence in God. The other remark is, that the doctrine of internal quietude, pervading and characterizing the action of the sensibilities, is not inconsistent with feelings of displeasure, and even of anger. Our Savior was at times grieved, displeased, angry; as he had abundant reason to be, in view of the hardness of heart and the sins, which were exposed to his notice. Anger, (so far as it is not purely  instinctive, which at its first rise and for a mere moment of time it may be,) is, in its nature, entirely consistent with reason and reflection; is consistent with the spirit of supplication, and consistent also, even in its strong exercises, with entire agreement and relative quietude in all parts of the soul. In other words, although there is deep feeling in one part of the soul, the other parts, such as the reason, the conscience, and the will, are so entirely consentient, that the great fact of holy, internal quietude, which depends upon a perfect adjustment of the parts to each other, is secured. A strong faith in God, existing in the interior recesses of the soul, and inspiring a disposition to look with a constant eye to his will alone; keeps every thing in its right position. Hence there still remains the great and important fact of holy internal rest, even at such trying times.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 3, Chapter 10.

God Is Not Impassive

It is sometimes said of God, that, being infinite and perfect, he is beyond the reach of emotionality; in other words, is an "impassive" existence, a being without feeling. The truth seems to us to be directly the opposite. God, so far from being the negation, is the perfection of feeling; that  is to say, he feels, and cannot help feeling, just as he ought to feel, on all possible occasions.

This remark we proceed now to illustrate in some particulars. And, accordingly, it may be said, in the first place, that God, instead of being impassive and without sensibility, is a being of desires and aversions. Can it be supposed, for instance, that any good takes place in the universe, without God's desiring it to take place? And if such a supposition is impossible, it is equally so that any evil can take place without causing in him feelings of dissatisfaction and aversion. And this is not all. He not only desires good to take place, but he rejoices in it, when it has taken place. And he cannot do otherwise. And, on the other hand, he not only disapproves of wrong-doing, and desires that it may not take place, but it cannot take place without exciting grief in him.

How to Grow in Holiness

Some persons may admit the fact of growth in holiness after the experience of full sanctification, and still be in some degree of perplexity as to the manner of it. We proceed, therefore, ...without promising to remove this perplexity altogether, to enter into some explanations upon this topic.

Evangelical holiness, it will be recollected, is nothing more nor less than perfect love. Love is based, in part, upon knowledge, and is necessarily based upon it.  It is entirely evident, that we can never love an object of which we have no knowledge; and it is equally so, that, in proportion as our knowledge extends, we have a wider intellectual basis for the action of this principle. And accordingly every new manifestation of God's character, every new exhibition of his attributes, every additional development of his providences, will furnish new occasions for accessions of love. It is the privilege, therefore, of a person perfected in love, and consequently a holy person, to increase in holiness in exact proportion with his increase in knowledge.

True Spiritual Solitude

True spiritual solitude, which always implies the special operations of divine grace, is not merely mental solitude. It is not the solitude, even when added to that of the body, of a merely disappointed and impenitent mind; of the mind as it now is.

The mind may become so intensely selfish that even the world cannot supply its wants. How many persons, the victims of intense avarice, of burning selfish sensuality, of overleaping ambition, have renounced and cursed the world, because even the world, with all its adaptedness to their desires, could not give all that they asked! Men of wealth, voluptuaries, statesmen, warriors, kings, worn out with indulgence, or disappointed in their boundless aspirations, have separated themselves from society, when probably it did not occur to them to separate from themselves.  In forests and in dens of the earth, and wherever they could flee away, and shut themselves up alone, they have poured forth, not their prayers to God, but their misanthropy and hate against man. In leaving the world behind them, they have carried in their hearts that which gave the world its evil and its sin.

True spiritual solitude, in being something more than solitude of the body, and something more than solitude of the unholy mind, is solitude from that in the mind, whatever it may be, which tends to disunite and dissociate it from God.

The soul, in the state of interior solitude, is in a state of solitude or separation from two things, in particular, namely, from its own desires and its own thoughts. IT IS SEPARATE FROM ITS OWN DESIRES. Sick of the world, if thou wouldst erect an inward oratory, and enter into the secret place of the heart, then let it be thy first purpose, as it certainly is an indispensable one, to cease from all desire, except such as God himself animates. In order to control the desires, and bring them into subjection to God, it is necessary to control the senses. The desires must have their appropriate objects; and in a multitude of cases the objects are made known by the senses. Keep a close watch, therefore, upon the senses. Let not your eye rest upon anything which is forbidden. Let not your ear listen to any corrupting or unprofitable conversation; but be as one who has no sight, and no hearing, and no touch, and no taste for anything, except what God allows and is pleased with. Contend with all because all have gone astray. Crucify all, because all have crucified him, who is the Eternal Life. Separate from all, so far as they have separated from God; in order that being united with them in their truth, you may be united with the God of truth.

—edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 6, Chapter 10.

The True Rest

'Tis not in vain the mind,
By many a tempest driven,
Shall seek a resting-place to find,
A calm like that of heaven.

The weak one and dismayed,
Scarce knowing where to flee,
How happy, when he finds the aid,
That comes alone from Thee.

In Thee, O God, is REST;
Rest from the world's desires,
From pride that agitates the breast,
From passion's angry fires.

In Thee is rest from fear,
That brings its strange alarm,
And sorrow, with its rising tear,
Thou hast the power to calm.

— American Cottage Life (1850).

Irregular Desires Bring Misery

We should guard against irregular desires not only because they imply guilt, but because they tend to render one miserable. The laws of the mind are such, that irregular and inordinate desires can never be fully and permanently gratified. If they meet with a present gratification, they always lay the foundation for their own re-existence in the shape of subsequent and still stronger desires, which will fail of being gratified. A mind, which is under the dominion of such urgent but ungratified desires, can never be at rest, can never be happy. It is inwardly goaded onward, without the possibility of consolation and peace.

And it is in this manner, that Satan, impelled by desires which aim at supreme dominion without the possibility of ever being satisfied, is consumed inwardly and forever by a flame, that can never be extinguished. This, it is true, is not the only source of his misery: but it is a principal one. Desires, therefore, conform in this respect to the universal law, viz. that guilt always brings misery. Have we not, then, sufficient reason for saying, that all irregular and inordinate desires should be especially guarded against?

All irregular and unsanctified desires stand directly in the way of the operations of the Spirit of God upon the soul; the obstacle they present being in proportion to the strength of the desire. God in the person of the Holy Ghost would immediately set up his dominion in all hearts, were it not for the obstacle presented by desires. God loves his creatures. And he wants nothing of us, but that we should remove the obstacles which shut him out of our hearts. It is self evident that desires and purposes of our own, in distinction from God's desires and purposes, inasmuch as they are not in the position of obedience and are not in the line of God's inward movements, are incompatible with his dominion in the soul. If, therefore, we would be without guilt and misery, if we would enjoy renovation and liberty of spirit, and would have God enthroned in our hearts as our king and sovereign, we must cease from desires. That is to say, we must cease from natural or unsanctified desires. We must desire nothing, on the one hand, out of the will of God; and must refuse nothing on the other, that happens to us in conformity to his will. And it is thus and thus only, that God can become to us an indwelling and paramount principle of life and action. Our All in All.

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

The Danger of Unrestrained Desires

If it  is our purpose to devote ourselves to the Lord without reserve, it is important that we should look seriously and closely into the nature and degree of our Desires. It is true, desires are an essential part of our nature. As natural principles, such as the desire of life, the desire of food, the desire of knowledge, the desire of society, they have their place, their laws, their uses. But the difficulty is, that in the natural man, and also in the partially sanctified man, they are not adequately superintended and controlled by the principle of divine love. They multiply themselves beyond due limits; they are often self-interested, inordinate, and evil. So much so as sometimes to bring the whole man into subjection. Desires thus inordinate and selfish, which are characterized, among other things, by the fatal trait of inward agitation and restlessness, cannot be too much guarded against.

Unrestrained desires always imply guilt.— The man, whose desires are unrestrained, is a man, that chooses to have his own way, lives his own life, operates upon his own stock; and, in a word, claims to be a God in his own right. It is obvious, that under a divine government there can be no virtue without subordination. The moment, therefore, that the desire, which is inherent in any creature, gets the ascendency and violates the law of obedience to the Supreme Ruler, that moment he is no longer the same being; but has undergone a change, as fatal as it is sudden, from truth to falsehood and from honor to guilt. How important is it, then, that the natural desires should be checked and subdued; and that they should be subdued to that point, where they shall be practically lost in the one preeminent and gracious desire, of knowing and doing the will of God.

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

The Subjection of Every Natural Desire to God

We take the liberty to urge upon all, who wish to live the true inward life, the importance of not resting satisfied with mere intellectual light, however valuable it may be; of not resting satisfied with joyful or any other emotions, which stop and terminate in themselves; and of acting invariably upon the principle, that nothing ought to satisfy themselves, and that nothing can satisfy God, but the subjection of every natural desire, and the substitution of desires, affections, and purposes, which terminate in God and God alone.

Move onward, therefore, with a firmness which no obstacles shall shake, to the entire revolution and renewal of the inward nature; the increased illumination of the conscience, that great light of the mind; the sanctification of the desires, which embrace the whole propensive and "affectional" nature; and the subjection of the will, which is naturally so proud and rebellious, to the will of God.

Fear not that God will desert you. Aided by the intellectual light which he has seen fit to give, and by those favorable emotions he has already excited, form the fixed, unalterable purpose, "the high resolve," in reliance upon divine grace, to be wholly his. No doubt, in many cases, the struggle will be severe. The unsanctified desires especially, including the various appetites, propensities, and affections, which form so important a part of our nature, are selfish and tenacious; and, considered as opposed to any and all human strength, are undoubtedly invincible. But God has said, "My grace is sufficient for thee." His word shall never fail; and least of all, in such a struggle, in which his own heart of infinite love is enlisted. Desire after desire will fall; idol after idol will be demolished; the Christian graces will successively gain the ascendancy; till the Holy Ghost shall take up his permanent residence in his own purified temple, and victory will sit crowned in the center of the heart.

Jehovah, sovereign of my heart!

My joy by night and day!

From Thee, oh may I never part,

From Thee ne'er go astray.

Whene'er allurements round me stand,

And tempt me from my choice;

Oh, let me find thy gracious hand,

Oh, let me hear thy voice!

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (1844) Part 1, Chapter 16.

The Affections and the Will Must Also be Subject to God

There are mental susceptibilities, which, on account of their being subsequent in the time of their action, may be described as laying back of the emotive part of the mind, as truly as the emotions can be said to lay back of the intellectual part. In making this remark, we have especial reference to the desires in their various modifications, particularly those modifications which are denominated the affections, and to the will.

Any religion, or rather pretense of religion, which is not powerful enough to penetrate into this region of the mind, and to bring the affections and will into subjection to God, is in vain. It is an important fact, and as melancholy as it is true, that a person may be spiritually enlightened and have new views on the subject of religion, and that he may also have very raised and joyful emotions, and yet may be a slave to his natural desires. He has not experienced what every one must experience, who would enter into communion with the Divine Mind, viz. the death of nature. He loves the things of the world more than the things of God.

Many, very many, are the instances, which can verify this remark. As the result of their intellectual illumination, the persons, to whom these statements will apply, are undoubtedly in advance of what they were previously, and are able to talk fluently on the subject of religion. And in consequence of some premature application of the Savior's merits to their own case, they can speak of pleasures and of hopes, which they never before experienced. But only urge upon them the necessity of self-crucifixion; only touch the idols which they cherish in their inner heart; and they discover at once the dominion which the world has over them still. God has not become the life of the soul. At a proposition, so necessary to the life of God and so repugnant to the life of nature, the spirit of untamed and almost unmitigated evil, which reposed so closely and secretly in their bosoms, will start into existence with features of opposition and malignity, altogether at variance with the peace and purity of a holy heart.

We may probably discover in these principles the reason, why it is, that, in times of especial religious attention, so many persons, who appeared to be much engaged in religion for a season, subsequently lose their interest, and become, both in practice and feeling, assimilated to the world. Such persons are undoubtedly the subjects of an inward experience; and this experience, in common parlance, is frequently called a religious experience; but it is obviously defective in the essential particular of not having a root. "But he, that received the word into stony places, the same is he, that heareth the word, and anon with joy, receiveth it. Yet hath he not root in himself."

Notwithstanding their increased ability and readiness to converse on the subject of religion, and the exhibitions which they make of emotion, sometimes of high emotion, they do not understand what it is to place themselves a living sacrifice upon the divine altar. They do not appreciate, and still less do they realize in their own hearts and lives, the "all of God and nothing of the creature."

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (1844) Part 1, Chapter 16.