The Living Fountain

I hear the tinkling camel's bell
Beneath the shade of Ebal's mount,
And man and beast, at Jacob's well,
Bow down to taste the sacred fount.

Samaria's daughter too doth share
The draught that earthly thirst can quell;
But who is this that meets her there?
What voice is this at Jacob's well?

Ho! ask of me and I will give.
From my own life, thy life's supply;
I am the fount! drink, drink, and live;
No more to thirst, no more to die!

Strange mystic words, but words of heaven;
And they who drink today as then,
To them shall inward life be given;
Their souls shall never thirst again!

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XXXVII.

Support in Affliction

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.  Therefore will not we fear,  though  the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea." Ps. xlvi. 1, 2.

When, Father, thou dost send the chastening rod,
Oh, what am I, that I should dare reply,
Thy love arraign, thy righteousness deny,
And set the creature in array with God?
Far be it from my soul to question Thee,
For I am nought. Be this my only prayer,
That I may have due strength the rod to bear,
And bless the hand that doth environ me.
So that, what time the outward man doth perish,
Smitten with many stripes, inflicted deep,
The inward man renewed hopes may cherish,
And high above the storms in glory sweep.
We sink in the deep waters; but thy hand
Shall hold us in the waves, and bring us safe to land.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XV.

Help in the Wilderness

"Thus saith the Lord, The people which were left of the sword, found grace in the wilderness; even Israel when I went to cause  him  to rest."  Jer. xxxi. 2.
"Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved?"  Cant. viii. 5.

Alas! We travel in the desert now,
Obscure our way, perplexed the paths we tread;
With thorns and briars the vales are overspread,
The mountains fright us with their angry brow.
But who is this that hears us in distress,
And when we fear we ne'er shall travel through,
Doth sudden burst upon our raptured view,
And goes before us in the wilderness?
The Savior comes! We lean upon his arm,
And resting there, find strength amid our woe;
The tempests cease, that filled us with alarm,
And o'er the burning plains the fountains flow.
No more the storms assail, the thunders roll,
But angels' songs are heard, and pleasures fill the soul.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XIV.

Objections to the Idea of Inward Crucifixion

When a person has gone through the process of inward crucifixion in its entire length and breadth, the great spiritual result is the complete extinction of all selfishness and of all self-will: a result brought about by means of an entire and unchangeable consecration, attended by the inwardly operating and searching influences of the Holy Spirit; a result, which in the end is so minutely explorative, so thoroughly destructive of those inward influences which obstruct the presence of God in the soul, and withal so painful oftentimes, that it may well be termed the BAPTISM OF FIRE. It is by means of such a process of inward crucifixion, that the natural life dies; and the way is thus prepared for the true resurrection and life of Christ in the soul. 

Leave Your Eternal Destiny in the Hands of God

If we would reach the highest results in religion, we must be willing, not only to suffer a separation from all present possessions and pleasures both of body and mind, in subordination to the will of God, but must be willing to leave our eternal interests entirely and quietly in his hands. It is true, God does not require and does not expect us to be willing, in the absolute and unconditional sense, to be cast off. Nevertheless, in point of fact, if God should see fit to do it, we ought willingly to submit to it, and to glorify his name in it. Because he could not do it without doing what is right; and to wish or expect him to do otherwise than right, would be to expect and desire him to tarnish his own character, to stain deeply and irretrievably his own spotless nature. This no one can possibly do, who loves God with a perfect heart. The language of such an one is, 'Let me rather perish a thousand times and God be holy, than saved a thousand times and God be unholy!' Indeed he knows no salvation, and no possibility of salvation, but in the love of God's holiness. It  is that which occupies his thought; it is that, which fills and dilates his soul with the elements, and perhaps we may add, with the only elements of substantial bliss. 

The Crucifixion of Natural Desires, Purposes, and Aims

If we would be what the Lord would have us to be, we must be willing, in the spirit of inward crucifixion, to renounce and reject all other natural desires, and all our own purposes and aims. We do not mean to imply in this remark, that we must be so far lost to feeling and action as to be absolutely without all desires, purposes, and aims whatever; but that there must be a crucifixion and excision of all desires and purposes, which spring from the life of nature, and not from the Spirit of God. In other words, it is our duty, as those who would glorify God in all things, to check every natural desire and to delay every contemplated plan of action, until we can learn the will of God, and put ourselves under a divine guidance. Every desire must so far lose its natural character as to become spiritually baptized and sanctified, before it can be acceptable to God; and every plan of action also must, in like manner, have a divine origin.

Crucifying the Desire for Inward Consolations

In order to the full attainment of what is designed for the Christian, that, in the continuance of this process of excision and crucifixion, he should cut off and crucify the desire of internal consolations and comforts.

We do not mean to imply in this remark, that the advanced and fully established Christian is in a situation, which either directly or indirectly is inconsistent with a full share of pleasurable and happy experience. On the contrary, his consolations, especially when he has found his true center and has fully united his once wandering heart to the heart of God, are tranquil, enduring, and substantial. But to think of such consolations much, to desire them much, and especially to aim at them as an ultimate object, is the precise way to miss them. I think it is very obvious, that he, who is seeking comfort as an ultimate object, is not seeking God but seeking himself. He is not seeking religion, in the proper sense of the term; but he is seeking just what he professes to seek, viz. comfort. Such seeking is in vain. There is but one ultimate object, at which, as those who wish to know the heights and depths of religion, we can safely aim, viz. God himself; or what may be considered as essentially the same thing, a sympathy of our whole being with the holy will of God.