A Letter To William Tiptaft – January 25th, 1860
My dear William Tiptaft.
Many people think that illness is the best time for religion, and for being prayerful and spiritually-minded but this is a great mistake. When the illness is severe, it takes such possession of the whole mind, and at the same time so enfeebles it, that it has not power to act as in health. I have often found that, when the main force of the illness is over, and I am beginning to recover, that that is a good time, if the Lord is pleased to draw the soul upward to Himself, to read, pray, and meditate. But when illness is severe, the soul needs divine support, patience, submission, resignation, and to lie passive in the Lord’s hands, believing He does all things well. It is then we need special support, so that the mind may not be distracted, but rest upon the Lord’s goodness and mercy, and what we hope has been felt in times past. I remember what poor Thomas Copeland once said to me in his illness. “People”, he said, “think that illness is a good time to seek God; but they will find, when they are very ill, that the illness itself occupies all their thoughts and feelings.” At the same time, there are times and seasons in illness when the weight of bodily affliction seems partially removed, and then, if the Lord be pleased to work by His Spirit and grace, there is a drawing-up of the soul unto Himself.
Certainly one thing trials and afflictions produce, if they are in any measure sanctified; they show us the impossibility of being saved, but by an act of free, distinguishing, sovereign grace; they make us cast ourselves wholly upon the blood and righteousness of the Son of God, and to rest satisfied with nothing short of its application. Sin also is seen to be exceedingly sinful, and the recollection of past sins grieves the conscience. Nothing has tried me more than the recollection of my sins and backslidings since I made a profession. These have been much more grievous in my eyes than any sins which I committed in the days of darkness and death. But I believe it is good for us to see and feel the weight and guilt of our sins and backslidings, so as to break to pieces our self-righteousness. A man does not know his own temptations so as to say, “I am not tempted with this or that propensity”; I may be wrong therefore, when I say that I am not much troubled with self-righteousness; for I see and feel in myself nothing but sin—and what is more trying still, my carnal mind is just as sinful, polluted, and corrupt as ever it was in my life. I do see the deep necessity for every child of God to walk much in godly fear. Sin and Satan are never off their watch, if we are. Sin is like a spring which can only be kept from expanding to its full length by continual pressure. Take away or relax the pressure, it expands in a moment to its full length. The fear of God in the heart is the pressure upon the spring; and if that relaxes or lets go, sin extends itself in a moment, and who can tell how far it will go? As Francis Spira said—”Man knows the beginning of sin, but who comprehends the outcomes thereof?” It is much easier to check sin in its first movement than when it has gained strength. If the egg be not crushed, it will break out into a viper. What would we do without free grace, the atoning blood of the Lamb, and the work of the Holy Spirit to make the Gospel precious to the soul?
I hope I have learned some of these lessons in my affliction. But how soon is all forgotten? Religion is a daily, one might say an hourly, work—and only He who began can keep alive His work upon the heart.
Yours very affectionately,
J. C. P.
Jesus is LORD! 
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