Joseph Hart’s Spiritual Autobiography
As I had the happiness of being born of believing parents,
I imbibed the sound doctrines of the Gospel from my infancy; nor was I
without touches of heart, checks of conscience, and meltings of
affections, by the secret strivings of God’s Spirit within me while very
young; but the impressions were not deep, nor the influences lasting,
being frequently defaced and quenched by the vanities and vices of
childhood and youth.
About the twenty-first year of my age I began to be under
great anxiety concerning my soul. The spirit of bondage distressed me
sore; though I endeavoured (as I believe most under legal convictions
do) to commend myself to God’s favour by amendment of life, virtuous
resolutions, moral rectitude, and a strict attendance on religious
ordinances. I strove to subdue my flesh by fasting, and other rigorous
acts of penance and mortification; and whenever I was captivated by its
lusts (which indeed was often the case) I endeavoured to reconcile
myself again to God by sorrow for my faults, which, if attended with
tears, I hoped would pass as current coin with heaven; and then I judged
myself whole again, and to stand on equal terms with my foes, till the
next fall, which generally succeeded in a short time.
In this uneasy, restless round of sinning and repenting,
working and dreading, I went on for above seven years; when, a great
domestic affliction befalling me (in which I was a moderate sufferer,
but a monstrous sinner), I began to sink deeper and deeper into
conviction of my nature’s evil, the deceitfulness and hardness of my
heart, the wickedness of my life, the shallowness of my Christianity,
and the blindness of my devotion. I saw that I was in a dangerous
state, and that I must have a better religion than I had yet experienced
before I could with any propriety call myself a Christian. How did I
now long to feel the merits of Christ applied to my soul by the Holy
Spirit! How often did I make my strongest efforts to call God,/my/God!
But, alas, I could no more do this than I could raise the dead! I found
now, by woeful experience, that faith was not in my power; and the
question with me now was, not whether I/would/be a Christian or no; but
whether I/might/: not whether I should repent and believe; but whether
God would give me true repentance and a living faith.
After some weeks passed in this gloomy, dreadful state, the
Lord was pleased to comfort me a little, by enabling me to appropriate,
in some measure, the merits of the Saviour to my own soul. This comfort
increased for some time; and my understanding was also wonderfully
illuminated in reading the Holy Scriptures, so that I could see Christ
in many passages where before I little imagined to find Him, and was
encouraged to hope I had an interest in His merits and the benefits by
Him procured to His people.
In this blessed state my continuance was but short; for
rushing impetuously into notions beyond my experience, I hasted to make
myself a Christian by mere doctrine, adopting other men’s opinions
before I had tried them; and set up for a great light in religion,
disregarding the internal work of grace begun in my soul by the Holy
ghost. This liberty, assumed by myself, and not given by Christ, soon
grew to libernism; in which I took large progressive strides, and
advanced to a dreadful height, both in principle and practice. In a
word, I ran such dangerous lengths both of carnal and spiritual
wickedness, that I even outwent professed infidels, and shocked the
irreligious and profane with my horrid blasphemies and monstrous
impieties. Hardness of heart was, with me, a sign of good confidence;
carelessness went for trust, empty notions for great light, a seared
conscience for assurance of faith, and rash presumption for Christian
courage.
My actions were in a great measure conformable to my
notions; for, having (as I imagined) obtained by Christ a liberty of
sinning, I was resolved to make use of it; and thought the more I could
sin without remorse, the greater hero I was in faith. A tender
conscience I deemed weakness; prayer I left for novices and bigots; and
a broken and contrite heart was a thing too low and legal for me to
approve, much more to desire. Not to dwell on particulars, I shall only
say (what, though shocking to hear, is too true), that I committed “all
uncleanness with greediness”.
In this abominable state I continued, a loose backslider,
an audacious apostate, a bold-faced rebel, for nine or ten years, but
infecting others with the poison of my delusions. I published several
pieces on different subjects, chiefly translations of the ancient
heathens; to which I prefixed prefaces and subjoined notes of a
pernicious tendency; and indulged a freedom of thought far unbecoming a
Christian. But God, who is rich in mercy, and whose grace is, like
Himself, almighty, did not altogether give me up to hardness and
impenitence; I felt, from time to time, meltings of heart, and inward
compunction; and had a secret hope at the bottom (which often rose above
my gross corruptions) that I should not always go on in this abandoned
manner, and run as reprobate to final perdition.
About seven or eight years ago I began by degrees to reform
a little, and to live in a more sober and orderly manner. And now, as I
retained the form of sound words, and held the doctrines of free grace,
justification by faith, and other orthodox tenets, I was tolerably
confident of the goodness of my state; especially as I could now also
add that other requisite, a moral behaviour. Surely, thought I, though
I have been so profligate and profane, yet, as I am now reclaimed, and
am not only sound in principles, but sober and honest in practice, I
cannot but be in the right way to the favour of God.
For several years I went on in this easy, cool, smooth, and
indolent manner, with a lukewarm, insipid kind of religion, yet not
without some secret whispers of God’s love, and visitations of His
grace, and now and then warm addresses to Him in private prayer. But,
alas, all this while my heart was whole; the fountains of the great
deeps of my sinful nature were not broken up! I was therefore conscious
that the written word of God was against me, especially those parts of
it that represent the children of God as a poor, afflicted, mourning,
broken-hearted people; of which characteristics I was destitute; nor was
the blood of Christ effectually applied to my soul. I looked on His
death indeed as the grand sacrifice for sin; and always thought on Him
with respect and reverence; but did not see the inestimable value of His
blood and righteousness clearly enough to make me abhor myself, and
count all things else but dung and dross. On the contrary, when I used
to read the Scriptures (which I now did constantly, both in English and
the original languages), though my mind was often affected, and my
understanding illuminated, by many passages that treated of the Saviour;
yet I was so far from seeing or owning that there was such a necessity
for His death, and that it could be of such infinite value as is
represented, that I have often resolved (oh, the horrible depths of
man’s fall, and the desperate wickedness of the human heart!), that I
never would believe it; and have been tempted to tell God Himself that
He could not make me, without injuring my reason, and imposing on my
understanding by downright violence and perversive power.
About three or four years ago I fell into a deep
despondency of mind, because I had never experienced grand revelations
and miraculous discoveries. I was very melancholy, and shunned all
company, walking pensively alone, or sitting in private, and bewailing
my sad and dark condition, not having a friend in the world to whom I
could communicate the burden of my soul; which was so heavy, that I
sometimes hesitated even to take my necessary food. But after many a
gloomy doleful hour spent in solitude and sorrow, not without strong and
frequent cries and tears to God, and besseching Him to reveal Himself to
me in a clearer manner, I thought He asked me, in the midst of one of my
prayers, whether I rather chose the visionary revelations of which I had
formed some wild idea, or to be content with trusting to the low,
despised mystery of a crucified man? I was enabled to prefer the
latter; and felt great comfort in expecting the future effects of my choice.
But gloom of mind and dejection of spirit still frequently
overwhelmed me; from which I used to be relieved by pouring out my soul
to Christ, and beseeching Him, with cries and groans and tears, to
reveal Himself to me; praying at the same time it might be done without
pain; for I was so much a coward, that I preferred ease to every other
consideration. I was often answered by such portion of Scripture as
these: “Behold, I come quickly; and My reward is with me.” “That which
thou hast already hold fast till I come.” To the latter of these I
closed my hands fast, and cried, I would sooner part with every drop of
blood than let go the hopes I already had in a crucified Saviour; and to
the former I used to reply (after considering the words, “My reward is
with Me”), “Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.” For, though I expected
sore visitation, yet believing that Christ would bring strength and
power with Him, I waited, and longed for His coming.
The week before Easter, 1757, I had such an amazing view of
the agony of Christ in the garden as I know not well how to describe. I
was lost in wonder and adoration; and the impression it made was too
deep, I believe, ever to be obliterated. I shall say no more of this;
but only remark that, notwithstanding all that is talked about the
sufferings of Jesus, none can know anything of them but by the Holy
Ghost; and I believe he that knows most, knows but very little. It was
upon this I made the first part of Hymn 1,/On the Passion/; which,
however, I afterwards mutilated and altered.
I used to be often terribly cut down with those words, “And
cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness; there shall be
weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Matt. xxv. 30); which sometimes sunk me
almost to utter despair; and then again I used to receive some comfort.
At length despair began to make dreadful head against me; hopes grew
fainter, and terrors stronger; which latter were increased by a faithful
letter I received from a friend, who had also run great lengths of
impiety with me formerly, but was now reclaimed. The convictions I now
laboured under were not like those legal convictions I had formerly
felt, but far worse, horrible beyond expression. I looked on myself as
a gospel sinner; one that had trampled under the foot the blood of
Jesus, and for whom there remained no more sacrifice for sin. I shall
not enlarge here, choosing rather to suppress than exaggerate; as I do
not lay stress on my own sufferings, or those of any other man, except
the Man Christ Jesus; but surely what I felt was very grievous, for so
deep was my despair, that I found in me a kind of wish that I might only
be damned with the common damnation of transgressors of God’s law. But,
oh! I thought the hottest place in hell must be my portion. All the
evangelical promises were so far from comforting me, that they were my
greatest tormentors, because they would only increase my condemnation.
This distress and anguish of soul was likewise attended
with great infirmity of body. One morning I was waked with intolerable
pain, as if balls of fire were burning my reins. Amidst this
excruciating torture, which lasted near an hour, one of the first things
I thought on was the pierced body of Jesus, and what pain of body, as
well as soul, He underwent. Soon after this very stroke, I was seized
in the evening with a cold shivering, which I concluded to be the icy
damp of death, and that after that must come everlasting damnation. In
this condition I went to my bed, but dared not close my eyes, even when
nature was overcharged, lest I should awake in hell.
While these horrors remained, I used to run backwards and
forwards to places of religious worship, especially to the Tabernacle in
Moorfields, the Chapel in Tottenham Court Road, where indeed I received
some comfort, which, though little, was then highly prized, because
greatly needed; but in the general almost every thing served only to
condemn me, to make me rue my own backslidings, and envy those children
of God who had continued to walk honestly ever since their first
conversion. Notions of religion I wanted no man to teach me: I had
doctrine enough, but found by woeful experience, that dry doctrine,
though ever so sound, will not sustain a soul in the day of trial.
In this sad state I went moping about (and that I could,
was next to a miracle), having some little hope at the bottom under all,
which now and then would glimmer, but was soon overwhelmed again with
clouds of horror, till Whit-Sunday, 1757, when I happened to go in the
afternoon to the Moravian Chapel in Fetter Lane, where I had been
several times before. The minister preached on these words, “Because
thou hast kept the words of my patience, I also will keep thee from the
hour of temptation, which shall come upon all the world, to try them
that dwell upon the earth” (Rev. iii. 10). Though the text, and most of
what was said on it, seemed to make greatly against me, yet I listened
with much attention, and felt myself deeply impressed by it. When it
was over, I thought of hastening to Tottenham Court Chapel; but
presently altering my mind, returned to my own house.
I was hardly got home when I felt myself melting away into
a strange softness of affection, which made me fling myself on my knees
before God. My horrors were immediately dispelled, and such light and
comfort flowed into my heart as no words can paint. The Lord by His
Spirit of love came, not in a visionary manner into my brain, but with
such divine power and energy into my soul, that I was lost in blissful
amazement. I cried out, “What me, Lord?” His Spirit answered in me,
“Yes, thee.” I objected, “But I have been so unspeakably vile and
wicked.” The answer was, “I pardon thee fully and freely. Thy own
goodness (for I had now set about a thorough amendment, if peradventure
I might be spared) cannot save thee, nor shall thy wickedness damn
thee. I undertake to work all thy words in thee and for thee; and to
bring thee safe through all.” The alteration I then felt in my soul was
as sudden and palpable as that which is experienced by a person
staggering, and almost sinking, under a burden, when it is immediately
taken from his shoulders. Tears ran in streams from my eyes for a
considerable while; and I was so swallowed up in joy and thankfulness,
that I hardly knew where I was. I threw my soul willingly into my
Saviour’s hands; lay weeping at His feet, wholly resigned to His will,
and only begging that I might, if He was graciously pleased to permit
it, be of some service to His Church and people.
Thenceforth I enjoyed sweet peace in my soul; and had such
clear and frequent manifestations of His love to me, that I longed for
no other heaven. My horrors were banished, and have not, I think,
returned since with equal violence. And though I can see little signs
as yet of His granting my request concerning usefulness; [This was
written before the Author’s call to the ministry.] though I am very
barren of good, and full of evil; though I have many sore trials and
temptation in my soul; yet it pleases the Lord to reveal Himself often
in me, to open the mysteries of His cross, and give me to trust in His
precious blood.
Not long after this my – shall I call it/reconversion/? – I
was terribly infested with thoughts so monstrously obscene and
blasphemous, that they cannot be spoken, nor so much as hinted; and I
believe such as hardly ever entered into the heart of any other man;
though I am sensible that most of God’s children are sometimes attacked
in like manner; but mine were foul and black beyond example, and seemed
to be the masterpieces of hell. They haunted me some months; and used
to make me weep bitterly, and cry earnestly to my God to remove them;
which at last He was pleased to do in a great measure; though they would
often be return still, like intruding visitants, but are not permitted
to come with much power. In short, I feel myself now as poor, as weak,
as helpless and dependent as ever; but now my weakness is my greatest
strength; I now rejoice, though I rejoice with trembling.
I soon began to be visited by God’s Spirit in a different
manner from what I had ever felt before. I had constant communion with
Him in prayer. His sufferings, His wounds, His agonies of soul were
impressed upon me in an amazing manner. I now believed my name was
sculptured deep in the Lord Jesus’ breast with character never to be
erased. I saw Him with the eye of faith, stooping under the load
of/my/sins; groaning and groveling in Gethsemane for/me/. The incarnate
God was more and more revealed to me; and I had far other notions of His
sufferings than I had entertained before. Now I saw that the grief of
Christ was the grief of my Maker; that His wounds were the wounds of the
Almighty God; and the least drop of His blood now appeared to me more
valuable than ten thousands of worlds. As I had before thought His
sufferings/too little/, they now appeared to me to be/too great/; and I
often cried out in transports of blissful astonishment, “Lord, ‘tis too
much, ‘tis too much; surely my soul was not worth so great a price.” I
had also such a spirit of sympathetic love to the Lord Jesus given me,
that after I had left off to sorrow for/myself/, for some months I
grieved and mourned bitterly for/Him/. I looked on Him whom I had
pierced, and felt such sharp compunction, mixed at the same time with so
much compassion, that the pain and the pleasure I experienced, are much
better felt than expressed.
Jesus Christ, and Him crucified, is now the only thing I
desire to know. In that incarnate mystery are contained all the rich
treasures of divine wisdom. This is the mark towards which I am still
pressing forward. This is the cup of salvation, of which I wish to
drink deeper and deeper. This is the knowledge in which I long to grow;
and desire at the same time a daily increase in all true grace and
godliness. All duties, means, ordinances, etc. are to me then only
rich, when they are enriched with the blood of the Lamb, in comparison
of which all things else are but chaff and husks.
/Pharisaic zeal/, and/Antinomian security/, are the two engines of
Satan, with which he grinds the Church in all ages, as betwixt the upper
and the nether millstone. The space between them is much narrower and
harder to find than most men imagine. It is a path which the vulture’s
eye hath not seen; and none can show it us but the Holy Ghost. Here let
no one trust the directions of his own heart, or of any other man; lest
by being warned to shun the one, he be dashed against the other. The
distinction is too fine for man to discern, therefore let the Christian
ask direction of his God. These two hideous monsters continually worry
and perplex my soul; nor is the former, though appearing in a holier
shape, one whit less, but (if possible) more odious to me than the
latter. Therefore, from the wonderful dealings of God towards me, I
endeavour to draw the following observations.
On the one hand I would observe, that it is “not of him
that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God which sheweth mercy.”
That none can make a Christian but He that made the world. That is the
glory of God to bring good out of evil. That whom He loveth, He loveth
unto the end. That though all men seek, more or less, to recommend
themselves to God’s favour by their works, yet “to him that worketh not,
but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted
for righteousness.” That the blood of the Redeemer, applied to the soul
by His Spirit, is the one thing needful. That prayer is the task and
labour of a Pharisee, but the privilege and delight of a Christian.
That God grants not the requests of His people because they pray; but
they pray because He designs to answer their petitions. That
self-righteousness and legal holiness rather kept the soul/from/, than
draw it/to/, Christ. That they who seek salvation by them, pursue
shadows, mistake the great end of the law, and err from the/Way/,
the/Truth/, and the/Life/. That God’s design is to glorify His Son
alone, and to debase the excellency of every creature. That no
righteousness besides the righteousness of Jesus (that is, the
righteousness of God) is of any avail towards acceptance. That to be a
moral man, a zealous man, a devout man, is very short of being a
Christian. That the eye of faith looks more to the blood of Jesus than
to the soul’s victory over corruptions. That the dealings of God with
His people, though similar in the general, are nevertheless so various,
that there is no chalking out the paths of one child of God to those of
another; no laying down regular plans of Christian conversion, Christian
experience, Christian usefulness, or Christian conversation. That the
will of God is the only standard of right and good. That the sprinkling
of the blood of a crucified Saviour on the conscience by the Holy Ghost,
sanctifies a man, without which, the most abstemious life and rigorous
discipline is unholy. Lastly, that faith and holiness, with every other
blessing, are the purchase of the Redeemer’s blood, and that He has a
right to bestow them on whom He will, in such a manner and in such a
measure as He thinks best; though the spirit in all men lusteth to envy.
On the other hand, I would observe, that it is not so easy
to be a Christian as some men seem to think. That for a/living/soul
really to trust in Christ alone, when he sees nothing in himself but
evil and sin, is an act as supernatural as for/Peter/to walk the sea.
That mere doctrine, though ever so sound, will not alter the heart;
consequently that to turn from one set of tenets to another, is not
Christian conversion. That as much as/Lazarus/coming out of his grave,
and feeling himself restored to life, differed from those who only saw
the miracle, or believed the fact when told them, so great is the
difference between a soul’s real coming out of himself, and having the
righteousness of Christ imputed to him by the precious faith of God’s
elect, and a man’s bare believing the doctrine of imputed righteousness
because he sees it contained in Scripture, or assenting to the truth of
it when proposed to his understanding by others. That a whole-hearted
disciple can have but little communion with a broken-hearted Lord. That
“if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of His.” That a
prayerless spirit is not the Spirit of Christ, but that prayer to a
Christian is as necessary and as natural as food to a natural man. That
the usual way of going to heaven is through much tribulation. That the
sinner who is drawn to Christ is not he that has/learnt/that he is a
sinner by head knowledge, but that feels himself such by heart
contrition. That he that believeth, hath an unction from the Holy One.
That a true Christian is as vitally united to Christ as my hand or foot
to my body; consequently suffers and rejoices with Him. That a believer
talks and converses with God. That a dead faith can no more cherish the
soul than a dead corpse can perform the functions of life. That where
there is true faith there will be obedience and the fear of God. That
he that lives by the faith of the Son of God, eateth His flesh and
drinketh His blood. That “he that hath the Son hath life, and he that
hath not the Son of God hath not life.” That many imagine themselves
great believers, who have little or no true faith at all; and many who
deem themselves void of faith, cleave to Christ by the faith of the
operation of God. That faith, like gold, must be tried in the fire
before it can be safely depended on. Lastly, that Christians are sealed
by the Holy Ghost to the day of redemption; and to this seal they trust
their eternal welfare, not to naked knowledge, or speculative notions,
though ever so deep. They dread to dream they are rich, when they are
blind and poor; to have a name to live, and yet be dead; or to be forced
to fly for precarious refuge to the conjectural scheme of universal
salvation, with those who hope to be saved because they/think/there will
be none lost.
For my own part, I confess myself a sinner still, and
though I am not much tempted to outward gross acts of iniquity, yet
inward corruptions and spiritual wickedness continually harass and
perplex my soul, and often make me cry out, “O wretched man that I am!
who shall deliver me from the body of this death?” From me they are not
yet removed; though I once hoped, with mnay others, that I should soon
get rid of them. All I can do is to look to Jesus through them all;
cling fast to His wounded side; long to be clothed with His
righteousness; pray Him to plead my cause against these spiritual
enemies that rise up against me; and though I feel myself leprous from
head to foot, believe that I am clean through the word which He hath
spoken unto me. In short, I rejoice, not because the spirits are always
subject to me (for, alas! I find they are often too strong for me to
control), but because my name is written in heaven.
I am daily more and more convinced that the promises of God
to/His people/are absolute; and desire to build my hopes on the free
electing love of God in Christ Jesus to my soul before the world began,
which I can experimentally and feelingly say, He hath delivered me
from/the lowest hell/. He hath plucked me as a brand out of the fire.
Though my ways were dreadfully dangerous to the last degree, His eye was
all along upon me for good. He hath excited me to love much, by
forgiving me much. He hath shewed me, and still daily shews me, the
abominable deceit, lust, enmity and pride of my heart, and the
inconceivable depths of His mercy; how far I was fallen, and how much it
cost Him of sweat and blood to bring me up. He hath proved Himself
stronger than I, and His goodness superior to all my unworthiness. He
gives me to/know/and to/feel/too, that without Him I can do nothing. He
tell me (and He enables me to believe it) that I am all fair, and there
is no spot in me. Though an enemy, He calls me His friend; though a
traitor, His child; though a beggared prodigal, He clothes me with/the
best/robe, and has put a ring of endless love and mercy on my hand. And
though I am often sorely distressed by spiritual internal foes,
afflicted, tormented, and bowed down almost to death, with the sense of
my own present barrenness, ingratitude, and proneness to evil, He
secretly shews me His bleeding wounds; and softly, but powerfully,
whispers to my soul, “I am thy great salvation.”
His free, distinguishing grace is the bottom on which is
fixed the rest of my poor, weary, tempted soul. On this I ground my
hope, oftentimes when unsupported by any other evidence, only by the
Spirit of adoption received from Him. He hath chosen me out from
everlasting, in whom to make known the inexhaustible riches of His free
grace and long-suffering. Though I am a stranger to others, and a
wonder to myself, yet I know/Him/, or rather, am known of Him. Though
poor in myself, I am rich enough in Him. When my dry, empty, barren
soul is parched with thirst, He kindly bids me come to Him, and drink my
fill at the fountain head. In a word, He empowers me to say, with
experimental evidence, “Where sin abounded, grace doth much more
abound.” Amen and amen.
April, 1759.
RELATED HYMNS
* Come Ye Sinners (Jordan)
<https://ighymns.herokuapp.com/hymns/come-ye-sinners-jordan>
* Come Ye Sinners (Smith)
<https://ighymns.herokuapp.com/hymns/come-ye-sinners-smith>
* Salvation To The Lamb
<https://ighymns.herokuapp.com/hymns/salvation-to-the-lamb>
RELATED PEOPLE
* Joseph Hart <https://ighymns.herokuapp.com/people/joseph-hart>