God's Inward Teaching

If thou wouldst have God's INWARD SPEECH
The center of thy being reach,
And utter truths, that bear the sign,
And impress of a source divine;

Take heed, that all is free within
From pride and passion's noisy din,
Which turn away, and leave unheard
The whispers of the heavenly word.

'Tis when no angry billows roll,
And toss and agitate the soul;
'Tis in the calmness of the mind,
With pride subdued, and will resign'd;

That God's interior voice is near,
And faith bends low the listening ear,
And lessons high and pure are given,
Which breathe of peace, and truth, and heaven.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXIV.

Quietness and Right Action

Quietness of spirit, originating in the operations of divine grace, is the sign of truth or rectitude of spirit, and also of a right course of action. And, on the other hand, a spirit disturbed, a spirit in a state of agitation, is the sign of a wrong done, or of a wrong proposed to be done. Accordingly, in any proposed course of action, if it cannot be entered upon with entire quietness of spirit, with a soul so entirely calm, that, in its measure, it may be said to reflect unbrokenly the image of God, then the probability is that the course proposed to be taken is wrong, or, at least, of a doubtful character; and our true and safe course is to delay, until we can obtain further light in regard to it.

This view is founded upon the relation existing between quietness of spirit and faith. And it seems to us to harmonize with the remark of the apostle, that “whatsoever is not of faith is sin."  Rom. 14:23.

WHEN  FROM THE HEART ITS ILLS ARE DRIVEN.

When from the heart its ills are driven,

And God, restored, resumes control,

The outward life becomes a heaven,

As bright as that within the soul.

Where once was pride and stern disdain,

And acts expressing fierce desire,

The eye, that closest looks, in vain

Shall seek the trace of nature's file.

No flame of earth, no passion now,

Has left its scorching mark behind;

But lip, and cheek, and radiant brow,

Reflect the brightness of the mind.

For where should be the signs of sin,

When sin itself has left the breast;

When God alone is Lord within,

And perfect faith gives perfect rest?

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 11.

A Spirit Which Belongs to the World

The man who rests in God, by having the principles of his nature brought into harmony with the divine nature, cannot be restricted by the limitations of name or country; but has a spirit which belongs to the world.  It is true his speculative beliefs may harmonize in certain directions more than in others; but, bearing Christ's image at the center, he belongs to Christ rather than a party, and all mankind are his brethren. The turbulence of nature has given place to the pacifications of grace, in order that he may extend the right hand of fellowship to those of every name and every clime.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 11.

Spiritual Quiet and Happiness

Happy, then, is the man, of whom it can be said, in the scriptural sense of the terms, he is quiet  in spirit; — a state of mind which can exhibit itself in the most trying situations, and with more effect and beauty perhaps than on other occasions. Smite the quietist on one cheek, and he turns the other. Drive him from his home, and the smile of his cheerful heart lights the walls of a cavern or a dungeon. He returns love for hatred, blessing for cursing. When dying by the hand of his enemies, his language is, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

"In quietness," says Isaiah, "shall be strength." The quiet man is necessarily victor, — conquering by the force of sentiments which are eternal, and not by the incidents of situation which are perpetually changing. It  is not the body which constitutes the man, but the divine principle at the center. A man is, according to his faith.  And the man, who treads the dungeon or the scaffold, with the acquiescent belief that it is the allotment of Providence, is no prisoner, because he has all the freedom which he asks, and can lose nothing by the death which he himself cheerfully welcomes. He conquers by that power to suffer which is given him through faith. And the power, which renders him victorious, gives him divine peace and happiness.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 11.

The Quiet Person of Faith

The religiously quiet man, like other men less advanced in grace, has experienced the sharpness of the inward contest; but God has helped him. Having striven with his corrupt nature, having passed through, as it were, the storms of regeneration, he has at last entered into the haven of inward rest.

Inwardly instructed in the limitations of the human understanding, he rests from reasonings in all cases where reasoning owes homage to faith. God is his reason. Taught by the great Teacher of the soul, that the true end of desires is to be found in the wisdom of the Infinite, he quietly ceases from all those desires which have their origin in a corrupted nature, and finds all his aims and purposes harmonized and fulfilled in the fulfillment of God's purposes. God is his desire. While he condemns sin, he is not impatient with it; but bears with it in the same spirit of calmness that God does; never doubting that, in the great issue of things which is rapidly approaching, the unity and love of God will over­come the divisions and hatreds of Satan. Devoted to the will of God to the extent of his power, and resting firmly upon the promises in unshaken faith, he is exempt alike from the reproofs of conscience and the agitations of fear.

A divine peace, of which God alone could be the author, is written upon his heart, his countenance, his actions, his whole life. The outward man is the calm mirror of the man within. He sees the commotions of the world; he beholds the surges and hears the noise of its contentions; but it does not move him from his position; it does not alter the fixedness of his purpose;  it does not disturb the peace of his spirit. His countenance, written over with signatures which have their source in the centre of his spirit, shows neither the scowl of anger, nor the distortions of fear. Not that he is indifferent to the strife; but he believes and knows that the God in whom he trusts has power to control it. He sees the calm beyond.

Such men, more than any others, bear the image of God; whose mighty power is established and operates in peace and in silence. A perfect being is, by the very fact of his perfection, unalterably tranquil. Jesus Christ, who was God revealed in humanity, and who, therefore, was the model of the perfect man, was a quiet man; he did not attract the world's notice by his noise. On the contrary, the world, disappointed that he came without observation, was attracted to him, contrary to what is usual with it, by the calm but mighty influence of his purity and gentleness. Meek, quiet, loving, doing what the divine order of things called him to do, he gave no occasion for reconsiderations and repentance, but left the evidence of his divinity in the perfection of everything he said and did. And in all cases will it be found, in the history of all good men of all ages, that the harmony of thought with truth, of feeling with thought, and of conscience with feeling; in other words, the perfect adjustment of character, will find its result and its testimony in inward and outward peace.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 11.

If Clouds Arise and Storms Appear

If clouds arise and storms appear,
If fortune, friends, and all forsake me,
There's one to shed with mine the tear,
And to His bleeding bosom take me.

Blest Savior! Let it be my lot,
To tread with Thee this round of being;
Thy love and mercy alter not,
When every sunbeam friend is fleeing.

Oh, be it thine to guide my soul
Along the wave of life's dark ocean;
And nought I'll fear, when billows roll,
Nor dread the whirlwind's rude commotion.

Thy love shall be my polar light,
And whether weal or woe betide me,
Through raging storm and shadowy night,
Its blaze shall shine to cheer and guide me.

— Religious Maxims (1846).

Although Affliction Smites My Heart

Although affliction smites my heart,
And earthly pleasures flee,
There is one bliss that ne'er shall part,
My joy, Oh God, in Thee.

That joy is like the orb of day,
When clouds its track pursue;
The shades and darkness throng its way,
But sunlight struggles through.

Oh Thou, my everlasting light,
On whom my hopes rely;
With Thee the darkest path is bright,
And fears and sorrows die.

— Religious Maxims (1846).