They had a better understanding then most of us do..

Mr. Newton’s Account of Mr. (William) Cowper in a Funeral Sermon
Preached in St. Mary Woolnoth, Lombard Street , May 1800

Exodus Chapter 3 verses 2,3:
And the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. and he looked, and behold, the bush burned with fire and the bush was not consumed. And Moses said, I will now turn aside, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt.

The Lord has given me many friends but with none have I had so great an intimacy, as with my friend Mr. Cowper. But he is gone. I was glad when I heard it. I know of no text in the whole book of God’s word more suited to the case of my dear friend than that I have read. He was indeed a bush in flames for 27 years but he was not consumed. And why? Because the Lord was there. I think it probable there is hardly a person in the church who ever saw him yet there is few but know him in his writings. I can think of no motto more suitable than that of the apostle as unknown yet well known particularly in his poems, 2nd volume, called The Task by which he being dead yet speaketh — speaks to the glory of God and the good of mankind and which I think will not be forgotten as long as the English language is current.

Mr. Cowper was afflicted with what is called a nervous complaint to such a degree as might justly be called insanity. He had an attack very early in life which did not continue long. He was afterward at the Temple, being designed for the Law. He became acquainted with Mr. Coleman and a Mr. & Lord Thurlow. He assisted them in writing a book [periodical] called the Connoisseur. Those four men were very gay and men of great abilities but the Lord had designs of mercy towards my friend. One night he had a remarkable dream or vision.

He thought a child, a very beautiful little boy, came and looked on him while he was asleep. When he awoke he felt his mind much affected by his dream, but as he was sitting at his breakfast the Lord shone in upon his soul and so enlightened his understanding and gave such a clear view of the gospel and his interest in it without his ever reading it or hearing a gospel sermon that for seven years afterwards I never in all my life saw a man walk — I want to say so honorably —but so closely with God and always set the Lord before him in all he did. I believe during that time we were not seven hours without being together.

The last sermon he ever heard preached was on New Year’s Day 1773. He drank tea with me in the afternoon. The next morning a violent storm overtook him which caused a very great shyness. I used to visit him often but no argument could prevail with him to come to see me. He used to point with his finger to the church and say: you know the comfort I have had there and how I have seen the glory of the Lord in his house and until I can go there I’ll not go anywhere else. But after some time this shyness wore off. I remember one time we were walking together in a very deep snow. The weather was remarkably severe. He desired me to stop. I observed the sweat drop from his face occasioned by the agony of his mind. He said he knew the Lord was a Sovereign and had a right to do with and lay upon him what he pleased and if he [it?] was that by holding out a finger he could remove what he then felt, he would not do it unless he knew it were the will of God. He has often said he thought the Lord had not a child who loved him with a more simple heart than he did.

The first temptation the enemy assaulted him with was to offer up himself as Abraham his son. He verily thought he ought to do it. We were obliged to watch with him night and day. I, my dear wife and Mrs. Unwin with whom he lived left him not an hour for seven years. He was also tempted to think butcher’s meat was human flesh, therefore he would not take it. We found it very difficult to provide any sustenance he would take. He had various temptations which would be very improper for me to mention in this place. I was at that time obliged to leave Olney but the Lord did not leave him without friends but provided for him persons of abilities and respect who did that for love which no money could have procured. I don’t know a person upon earth I consult upon a text of Scripture or any point of conscience so much to my satisfaction as Mr. Cowper. He could give comfort though he could not receive any himself. He was not only a comfort to me but a blessing to the affectionate poor people among whom I then lived. He used frequently to visit them and pray with them. I had the honor to be rector[?] over a set of poor plain people chiefly lace makers. Their great confinement caused in them great depression of spirits. They used to say, 0 Sir if I was right, sure I should not feel so. But they well knew Mr. Cowper: they knew he was right, and from him they could take comfort.

I have had hopes the Lord would remove his malady a little time before his death but it continued. The last twelve hours of his life he did not speak nor seem to take notice of anything but lay in a state of apparent insensibility. But I seem to think that while the curtains were taking down in the tabernacle removing, glory broke in upon his soul. The Lord had set his seal upon him and though he had not seen him he had grace to love him. He was one of those who came out of great tribulation. He suffered much here for twenty-seven years, but eternity is long enough to make amends for all. For what is all he endured in this life, when compared with that rest which remaineth for the children of God?

Light Shining out of Darkness
by William Cowper

God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

From My Husband

Happy Birthday Sweet Wife!

September 6, 2011

At fifty – one, you’ve just begun

The second half of a century.

And though in part, we know in heart

The love of God and the mystery

Of Christ alone, as He we own

To be our Lord and Savior.

He is our Life. We are His wife,

And part of that which is greater

Than we can phathom, as every atom

Is under His sovereign control.

Oh what delight, before we take flight,

As others we seek to enroll

To know the joy, be humbly employed

In all that pertains to His glory;

His Spirit will guide, in Christ to abide,

The cause and effect of His story,

Until He comes, this race we will run

Or we enter His presence through death,

Till then loving more, as He we adore,

Oh praise Him for every new breath,

He gives as our King, as to Him we sing

The songs of the saints here on earth,

But then up in heaven, no longer with leaven,

The praises that show forth His worth!

How Bunyon Handled "Heat"

Just this morning, before leaving for Sunday School and Worship Service, I happened upon a poem which was written in 1665 in response to a letter of encouragement John Bunyon received while in prison. What a beautiful example of how a Christian should "handle heat". It's lengthy; but, once you start reading it you won't mind the length at all.

Friend, I salute thee in the Lord,
And wish thou may'st abound
In faith, and have a good regard
To keep on holy ground.

Thou dost encourage me to hold
My head above the flood;
Thy counsel better is than gold:
In need thereof I stood.

Good counsel's good at any time;
The wise will it receive,
Tho' fools count he commits a crime
Who doth good counsel give.

I take it kindly at thy hand
Thou didst unto me write;
My feet upon Mount Zion stand,
In that take thou delight.

I am indeed in prison now
In body, but my mind
Is free to study Christ, and how
Unto me he is kind.

For tho' men keep my outward man
Within their locks and bars,
Yet by the faith of Christ I can
Mount higher than the stars.

Their fetters cannot spirits tame,
Nor tie up God from me;
My faith and hope they cannot lame;
Above them I shall be.

I here am very much refreshed
To think, when I was out
I preached life and peace and rest
To sinners round about.

My business then was souls to save
By preaching grace and faith,
Of which the comfort now I have,
And have it shall till death.

They were no fables that I taught,
Devis'd by cunning men,
But God's own word, by which were caught
Some sinners now and then.

Whose souls by it were made to see
The evil of their sin;
And need of Christ to make them free
From death, which they were in.

And now those very hearts that then
Were foes unto the Lord,
Embrace his Christ and truth, like men
Conquer'd by his word.

I hear them sigh, and groan, and cry
For grace to God above;
They loathe their sin, and to it die;
'Tis holiness they love.

This was the work I was about
When hands on me were laid;
'Twas this from which they pluck'd me out
And vilely to me said:

You heretic, deceiver, come,
To prison you must go;
You preach abroad, and keep not home,
You are the Church's foe.

But having peace within my soul,
And truth on every side,
I could with comfort them control,
And at their charge deride.

Wherefore to prison they me sent,
Where to this day I lie;
And can with very much content
For my profession die.

The prison very sweet to me
Hath been since I came here,
And so would also hanging be,
If God would there appear.

Here dwells good conscience, also peace;
Here be my garments white;
Here, though in bonds, I have release
From guilt, which else would bite.

When they do talk of banishment,
Of death, or such like things,
Then to me God send heart's content,
That like a fountain springs.

Alas! they little think what peace
They help me to, for by
Their rage my comforts do increase;
Bless God, therefore, do I.

If they do give me gall to drink,
Then God doth sweet'ning cast -
So much thereto that they can't think
How bravely it doth taste.

For as the devil sets before
Me heaviness and grief,
So God sets Christ and grace much more,
Whereby I take relief.

Though they say then that we are fools
Because we here do lie,
I answer, Jails are Christ his schools,
In them we learn to die.

'Tis not the baseness of this state
Doth hide us from God's face;
He frequently, both soon and late,
Doth visit us with grace.

Here come the angels, here come saints,
Here comes the Spirit of God,
To comfort us in our restraints
Under the wicked's rod.

God sometimes visits prisoners more
Than lordly palaces;
He often knocketh at the door
When he their houses miss.

The truth and life of heav'nly things
Lift up our hearts on high,
And carry us on eagles' wings
Beyond carnality.

It takes away those clogs that hold
The hearts of other men,
And makes us lively, strong and bold
Thus to oppose their sin.

By which means God doth frustrate
That which our foes expect -
Namely, our turning th' apostate,
Like those of Judas' sect.

Here comes to our remembrance
The troubles good men had
Of old, and for our furtherance
Their joys when they were sad.

To them that here for evil lie
The place is comfortless,
But not to me, because that I
Lie here for righteousness.

The truth and I were both here cast
Together, and we do
Lie arm in arm, and so hold fast
Each other; this is true.

This jail to us is as a hill,
From whence we plainly see
Beyond this world, and take our fill
Of things that lasting be.

From hence we see the emptiness
Of all the world contains;
And here we feel the blessedness
That for us yet remains.

Here we can see how all men play
Theirs parts, as on a stage -
How good men suffer for God's way,
And bad men at them rage.

Here we can see who holds that ground
Which they in Scripture find:
Here we see also who turns round
Like weathercocks with wind.

We can also from hence behold
How seeming friends appear
But hypocrites, as we are told
In Scripture everywhere.

When we did walk at liberty
We were deceiv'd by them,
Who we from hence do clearly see
Are vile, deceitful men.

These politicians that profess
For base and worldly ends,
Do not appear to us at best
But Machiavellian friends.

Though men do say we do disgrace
Ourselves by lying here
Among the rogues, yet Christ our face
From all such filth will clear.

We know there's neither flout nor frown
That we now for him bear,
But will add to our heavenly crown
When he comes in the air -

When he our righteousness forth brings
Bright shining as the day,
And wipeth off those sland'rous things
That scorners on us lay.

We sell our earthly happiness
For heavenly house and home;
We leave this world because 'tis less
And worse than that to come.

We change our drossy dust for gold,
From death to life we fly;
We let go shadows, and take hold
Of immortality.

We trade for that which lasting is,
And nothing for it give
But that which is already His
By whom we breathe and live.

That liberty we lose for him
Sickness might take away;
Our goods might also for our sin
By fire or thieves decay.

Again we see what glory 'tis
Freely to bear our cross
For Him who for us took up his
When he our servant was.

I am most free that men should see
A hole cut through my ear;
If others will ascertain me,
They'll hang a jewel there.

Just thus it is: we suffer here
For Him a little pain,
Who when he doth again appear
Will with him let us reign.

If all must either die for sin
A death that's natural,
Or else for Christ, 'tis best with him
Who for the last doth fall.

Who now dare say we throw away
Our goods or liberty,
When God's most holy word doth say
We gain thus much thereby?

Hark yet again, you carnal men,
And hear what I shall say
In your own dialect, and then
I'll you no longer stay.

You talk sometimes of valour much,
And count such bravely mann'd
That will not stick to have a touch
With any in the land.

If these be worth commending, then,
That vainly show their might,
How dare you blame those holy men
That in God's quarrel fight?

Though you dare crack a coward's crown,
Or quarrel for a pin,
You dare not on the wicked frown,
Nor speak against their sin.

For all your spirits are so stout
For matters that are vain,
Yet sin besets you round about;
You are in Satan's chain.

You dare not for the truth engage,
You quake at 'prisonment;
You dare not make the tree your stage
For Christ, that King potent.

Know, then, true valour there doth dwell
Where men engage for God
Against the Devil, death and hell,
And bear the wicked's rod.

These be the men that God doth count
Of high and noble mind;
These be the men that do surmount
What you in nature find.

First, they do conquer their own hearts,
All worldly fears, and then
Also the devil's fiery darts,
And persecuting men.

They conquer when they thus do fall,
They kill when they do die;
They overcome then most of all,
And get the victory.

The worldling understands not this,
'Tis clear out of his sight;
Therefore he counts this world his bliss,
And doth our glory slight.

The lubber knows not how to spring
The nimble footman's stage;
Neither can owls or jackdaws sing
When they are in the cage.

The swine doth not the pearls regard,
But them doth slight for grains,
Though the wise merchant labours hard
For them with greatest pains.

Consider, man, what I have said,
And judge of things aright;
When all men's cards are fully play'd,
Whose will abide the light?

Will those who have us hither cast?
Or they who do us scorn?
Or those who do our houses waste?
Or us who this have borne?

And let us count those things the best
That best will prove at last;
And count such men the only blest
That do such things hold fast.

And what tho' they us dear do cost,
Yet let us buy them so;
We shall not count our labour lost
When we see others' woe.

And let saints be no longer blam'd
By carnal policy,
But let the wicked be asham'd
Of their malignity.