Letter To A Brother In Christ – April 6th, 1835

April 6th, 1835

My dear Brother,

I thank you for your kind letter, and, though I have little to communicate worth postage, I imagine that you may be expecting a letter from me in answer.

I am glad to find you tried and harassed in mind. If there were no law in your conscience, there would be no working up of all manner of evil desires; and if there be no humility, there will be no honor. So you must be abased in your own eyes, and know something of the vileness of your corrupt nature, or you would be slipping into some of the various pits of error, and would not be a witness against the presumptuous free-willers.

May the Lord break down your self-will and free-will, and make you a humble man; for if the dross be taken away from the silver, there comes forth a vessel for the refiner. It is a painful process to pass through the furnace; but the best religion is bought the dearest, and what we get cheap we do not much value.

I can scarcely tell you how I am getting on. Sometimes I get on tolerably well, and at other times I seem to be going backwards. Sometimes I seem to have marks of grace, and of my call to the ministry, and at other times I have none. There is one mark I am scarcely ever without, which is that the unbelievers continue to slander me.

When I was traveling from Stamford in February, a gentleman (whom I believe to be a clergyman) on the coach, who had been visiting at Stamford, began to tell me and the others on the coach a long story about ‘Tiptaft’. He said he had been preaching at Oakham and in the neighborhood, and brought several charges against me, such as making merchandise of my hearers, in two or three chapels, and ruining other ministers by drawing away their hearers. I asked him for his authority. He said that he had heard it at Stamford, and that I had a sister married at Stamford to a gentleman of wealth and respectability, and that it was all true. I thought it was not honest and kind to allow him to proceed without telling him who I was. He then told me he had a friend who knew me when I was curate at Treborough, who had spoken to him in the highest terms of me, and that he could not but regret that one of such eminent qualities should secede from the Church of England. The conversation was rather interesting to our fellow-travelers. I told him that the charges against me were false; and, though it was often reported that I was making a gain of godliness, I was at present free from the guilt of it. He would probably have told me something that might have been profitable; but I was not ruffled by what he said, as they were old tales. He was very civil afterwards, and apologized. I gave him, when he left at Huntingdon, Rowland Hill’s letter.

This and other reports prove to me that Satan is not idle. I trust that my preaching is not in vain, and that his kingdom is receiving some little damage by me. I feel it more and more a great mercy that I can boldly and conscientiously meet all the charges, and may the Lord in His goodness and mercy hold me up, and then I shall be safe. David says, “Let them curse me, but You bless me”; and poor Jeremiah said, “I have heard the many rumors about me. They call me “The Man Who Lives in Terror.” And they say, “If you say anything, we will report it.” Even my old friends are watching me, waiting for a fatal slip. “He will trap himself,” they say, “and then we will get our revenge on him.” Jeremiah 20:10

Friend Philpot is with me for a day or two. He has left the Church of England, and has resigned his fellowship. His reasons for resigning will be published in a few days. It is a faithful testimony. He could stay in it no longer.

Poor Mr. Kay is still with me. His way is still shut up. Philpot says that the more he sees of him the better he likes him.

I dare say you will be much tried about your own soul, and about making the chapel; you will think that both began in the flesh; doubts, fears, and anxieties will follow you, and you will think how much better you would get on in every way, if you had made no profession in religion. But you may as well have no religion as that which brings no cross. There is no such path ever mentioned in God’s word which leads to glory. Sometimes you will think that you have a great many crosses, and at other times you will think that you have not sufficient to prove that you are really a son.

The Lord’s people are led in paths they know not, and they frequently get where Job was when he said, “I am vile,” and “I am full of confusion.” You will never be sorry you have waded through much miry clay when you are delivered, and you will learn to put a right value upon religion; for if a man is taught of God, his heart will make him speak aright, and pray aright, and will add learning to his lips. He will, by such teaching, be led to discern between good and evil, and to know things that differ.

Whatever true religion a man gets, he must buy; and “he who believes shall not make haste.” I seem to get comfort from these words, for I am sure I do not make haste. Hardness of heart, unbelief, uncleanness, pride, self-seeking, covetousness, indifference about the Lord’s cause, backwardness to prayer and preaching, with various other evils, make me feel more fit for hell than this earth, and I am glad to get comfort from the thought that Paul had to make a complaint of such evils, when he says that the law worked in him all manner of evil desires. These evils and abominations do not satisfy my soul that I am right; but I do not envy those, however holy they may be, and however strong their faith is, if the corruptions of their own hearts have never been stirred up; you will find that the genteel Christians generally fall short in such knowledge. But God must be known by His people as a heart-searching and thought-trying God. I question nearly everybody’s religion which stands in much joy, peace, and comfort, for faith must be tried. If they are even sincere in thinking that they are blessed with such strong faith, they are only deceived, for in the present day very few can justly say they believe they are pardoned. Most of the Lord’s people that I meet with cannot get beyond, “I hope and I trust.”

As regards myself, I must confess that my prayers are faint and few. Sometimes I am concerned about my soul, and at other times feel hardened. I find the ministry a great trial to me, as I feel myself so ignorant and unfit for the work. I am driven into corners, and often wonder where the scene will end. O that the Lord would pour down his Holy Spirit on me, and make me more useful, so that I might have a sweet testimony in my soul that he is truly with me! I can preach very little about Jesus Christ, as I know so little of Him—so little of the power of His grace in my own heart. It even seems a mercy of mercies that I continue making a profession of the Lord’s blessed name unto this moment. I find the way that I am in, is all up hill; but that does not satisfy me that it is the right way. I do not lack outward marks, such as sneers and persecutions, but I lack internal marks—more and more of the Spirit’s work upon my heart, more and more of a spirit of love both to Jesus and His people.

I hope the Lord is blessing you in your meetings. You must not judge altogether of the good done by outward appearances. It is a great blessing that you are not worshiping with the congregation of the dead. I hope that the Lord will keep you, and make you very liberal to the Lord’s people. And may you and I be kept, in the midst of all the enemies of the gospel, who are watching for our halting, and would be so glad to say, “Ah, so would we have it.”

Yours very sincerely and affectionately,

William Tiptaft.