William Carvosso - A Memoir - Editor's Preface
“The observations of good old Mr. Carvosso have been read by myself and others with that awful reverence which is due to the directions of one who—having himself found the way, and being about to enter the Kingdom of blessedness—is anxious to direct the multitudes who would arrive at the same place. Every syllable has a force, and comes with an irresistible authority. The whole is emphatic, clear, and Scriptural.” This is an extract from a letter written by the late eminent Counselor Drew, of Jamaica, to his sister, at whose request my father had written to him.
I have no knowledge of the contents of the letter which was written to Mr. Drew, but doubt not that numerous observations of the same kind and quality will be found in the ensuing pages. And if they be read by persons whose minds are as simple and well-disposed as his was, there is every reason to believe that they will be received as clear and Scriptural—felt to have force and authority—and be pronounced good to the use of edifying. Indeed, if the opinion on this subject be correct which is contained in a letter addressed to the editor by a very judicious friend, there is a numerous class of readers who are prepared to feel a greater interest in this little work than could be felt by Mr. Drew and such as never saw my father’s face in the flesh. The respected writer says: “I am glad you are about to publish a Memoir of your late excellent father. I hope to receive much comfort and benefit from its perusal—as I doubt not thousands more will—especially those who had the happiness of his acquaintance; the recollection of the man will render the Memoir doubly interesting. Of the many favors of divine Providence which demand my daily acknowledgment, his friendship, which I enjoyed so many years, stands in the foremost rank.”
Another intelligent friend, who well knew him, remarked to me, “If ever there was a man whose piety and extraordinary usefulness in that sphere of life in which he moved deserved a biographical record, your late venerable father is the person.”
With such statements it would be easy to swell these introductory pages. But while the editor deems it unnecessary further to trouble the reader with suffrages of this kind, he has considered those not uncalled for, to justify the part he has taken in bringing the volume before the public—to bespeak the candid attention of the stranger—and also to remind the Christian reader that, as he is about to tread hallowed ground, it is meet he should do it with that awful reverence which is only found in a devotional frame of mind. This is the more necessary as the accumulation of strong meat which will be found in many of these pages cannot be used by any, so as to grow thereby, until it be sanctified by prayer to Him Whose grace alone conveys the requisite power to feed on Christ in the heart by faith.
The subject of this Memoir was a Methodist—a warm, simple-hearted, old Wesleyan Methodist. Therefore, nothing more or less than Methodism in the old way must be looked for here. Be it his fault or his excellence, my father was a passionate admirer of Mr. Wesley. He was for twenty years a member of the united society before the death of that great man and great minister of Christ. He was often one of those who followed him from place to place and mingled among the overwhelming crowds that hung upon his lips when he visited these parts. A thousand times, with streaming eyes, he would bless God for sending Mr. Wesley into Cornwall. The doctrines taught by him he regarded as the pure truth of God, and received them with his whole spirit and soul. Mr. Wesley’s Sermons and Hymn Book were prized by him, perhaps, as highly as any earthly things ought to be. Their very existence was to him a continued subject of adoring gratitude.
Present, free, and full salvation, by simple faith in the Atonement, formed the theme on which he dwelt with delight, and almost without intermission. More particularly was this so during the last twenty-five years of his lengthened pilgrimage. In receiving the salvation of the Gospel, he had no opinion of delays, exceptions, or limits. To the spiritually diseased of every class his constant cry was, “Come, for all things are now ready.” He saw, in the strong commanding light of faith, Christ present, able, willing to save unto the uttermost. Therefore, when he exclaimed,
“Believe, and all your sin’s forgiven;
Only believe, and yours is Heaven!”
it often produced an effect peculiarly his own. In no other man’s lips, whom I have heard speak on matters of faith, did it ever appear to me that the word “believe” meant so much as in his. When others said to the penitent, “You must believe,” the words often appeared without force, and almost without meaning. But no sooner did he utter these or similar words than the wisdom of God was manifest, and Gospel truth, spoken in simplicity, frequently seemed like a lever that moved the world. Hence the multitude of captive souls who found almost instant liberty when they fell into his hands.
To some who had no personal knowledge of his character—having never heard the wisdom and the spirit with which he spake of faith in the blood of Christ—it may appear strange, and perhaps scarcely credible, that so many persons, variously instructed and informed, and often long groaning under spiritual bondage, should find the joy of salvation on their being introduced into his presence but a few minutes only—the sorrowful soul being brought out of darkness into marvelous light simply by the use of two or three right words. In some degree to account for this, it should be borne in mind:
(1) That on these occasions his words came from a heart which felt the power of the Lord was present to heal. His falling tears, his lifted hands, his affecting emphasis, and every lineament of his countenance declared that to the sorrowful spirit whom he addressed, and powerfully enforced the truth contained in his burning words.
(2) His faith, no doubt, brought a degree of gracious aid to the helpless soul. To what extent our own faith may be regarded while we seek the salvation of others, we have no means of ascertaining. That it sometimes has an important bearing on the subject, however, is evident from the case of the man who was brought to Christ sick of the palsy. Of the man’s own faith we hear nothing. But of his four benevolent friends, who used such extraordinary exertions to bring him to Jesus Christ, it is written, “When Jesus saw their faith, he said unto the sick of the palsy, Son, thy sins be forgiven thee.”
Now, when a broken-hearted penitent was introduced to my father and he heard him inquire, amidst the flowing of humble, contrite tears, “What must I do to be saved?” he unhesitatingly pointed him to the Lamb of God, confidently believing that He could and would save the soul that lay thirsting for salvation at the footstool of the mercy-seat. And is not “Jesus Christ the same yesterday, today, and for ever?”
(3) On the first exercise or act of faith by which the sinner comes to Christ it is well known that the subject of this Memoir was “apt to teach.” He was most fruitful in expedients and illustrations to help the understanding and the confidence of the seeking soul. A young man, a member of our society, one of much intelligence and more than ordinary strength of mind, who has since died in the faith, observed to me one day in his affliction, “Until I saw your excellent father, it seemed to me I never met with any one whose exposition of faith came within the reach of my understanding. But his remarks on the nature of that important grace were clear and forcible in an extraordinary degree, commending themselves to my reason as well as to my heart and conscience. And suffer me to say, if his papers shall fall into your hands, you will be guilty of an act of injustice to the world if you do not give them to the public.”
His illustrations, which told so remarkably, were commonly of the most simple kind. He would seize on anything open to the senses, and in one way or other render it subservient to his great object—the bringing of the soul to Jesus. His deeply spiritual mind, clear conceptions of the subject, and great simplicity of soul rendered this mode of instruction highly interesting and profitable.
Entering into the house of a poor man, known to him to be deeply and sorrowfully concerned for the salvation of his soul, he found him blowing the fire to assist in preparing the ordinary meal. My father said to him, “John, if you had half as much faith in Jesus Christ as you have in those bellows, you would be set at liberty in a moment.” This at once brought the subject of faith in Christ within the man’s reach. In an instant he saw—he felt—he believed—and was saved from all his sins and sorrows.
He would often put the person who was eagerly inquiring after Christ to read an appropriate Scripture or verse of a hymn, telling him that he must try to read for himself. If, at the first reading, his heart did not take hold of the truth, he would be required to read over the portion more carefully, again and again. In this way he has helped many a poor mourner over the bar of unbelief.
Closely connected with this method of instruction he had another which was equally successful. At some apposite turn of expression he would stop short the sorrowful and heavy-laden reader, look him in the face, with the feelings of a devoutly melting heart visible in his eyes, and show him what was contained in, and his right to, what his lips had uttered. Then, in the most persuasive and affectionate manner, he would inquire if he did not perceive the meaning and believe the gracious truth contained in the words which had now dropped from his own lips. Thus many, ere they were aware, felt themselves gently borne from the fearful precipice of unbelief, and set down amidst the ocean of redeeming love.
Of this I have an instance before me, detailed in a letter from one of my father’s correspondents. The writer says of him, “He went with me to see an old couple whom I was in the habit of visiting once a week. While we were there, a woman who was a near neighbor came in. Your dear father, who was always ready for such work, asked her, I think, if she loved God. She said, ‘Yes; but there is something I still want.’ He said, ‘Come and sit down by me and I will tell you all about it.’ She sat down accordingly, and he soon discovered she did not know her sins were pardoned. He told her, ‘You may receive this blessing now.’ He then took our hymn book, opened to the tenth hymn, and put her to read the fourth verse. When she had read, ‘Thy debt is paid,’ he put his thumb on the words which followed, looked her in the face, and inquired if she thought it was paid? She burst into a flood of tears and was made happy from that moment. This is many years ago, but his dear name is as precious to her as ever. And I may add, she is still a consistent member of the society.”
There is another way in which he was sometimes made a very great blessing to the sincere seekers of Gospel salvation. It was by clearly and familiarly pointing out to them the error into which they occasionally fell of undervaluing and overlooking the good work which God had already wrought in them, and thus, by a voluntary humility, adding to their own difficulties in the work of faith.
Another extract from the letter above referred to will afford an interesting and profitable illustration of this remark. After detailing the unsuccessful pains which he and certain of his friends had taken to obtain the blessing of perfect love, the writer proceeds to state, “About this time your father had visited some neighboring places, but I had not seen him. But one day brother B. called on me and in his quaint manner said, ‘Brother T., you will not be with him five minutes before you will be hot all over.’ My expectations were raised. At last he arrived, and took up his abode under my roof.
“One memorable night, my friends being present with me, he was conversing with us on the blessing of perfect love. He, like a wise master-builder, having examined our spiritual attainments, discovered that we were in possession of the essential properties of that happy state, but without the joyful witness thereof. Therefore, he no longer held up the thing in prospect before us, but declared us in possession of it, and charged us with the error of asking for what God had already given. ‘Now,’ said he, ‘it is rather your business to give thanks and rejoice.’
“To illustrate and impress on us his view of the subject, he took up a hymn book which lay before us on the table. ‘Suppose,’ says he, ‘one of you ask me for this book. Well, there it is. I give it to you,’ putting it at the same time into the hands of one of our little company. ‘Now,’ he observed, ‘will it not be manifest folly in you to continue asking me for the book when you have it already in your possession?’ This simple method helped us to the act of faith. We believed; the sacred fire kindled within, and presently we were all in a blaze of love, shouting and praising God together. And, what is matter of greatest praise, the savor of the good then received we retain to this day.”
As to the true nature, the object, and the fruits of faith, he never misled the inquirer by new and strange notions, but uniformly kept in the good old way. With him the immediate and constant fruits of full Christian faith were, “pardon, and holiness, and Heaven.” The object of this faith was “Christ crucified.” As to the nature of it, he ever maintained that the power to believe was from God, that the act of believing was necessarily ours; and that the former was received, and the latter performed, only in the spirit of prayer.
St. Paul’s definition of faith, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Heb. 11:1) he greatly admired and often quoted. The marvelous effects of faith detailed in that chapter were much his theme in life and death. Faith subdued all his evils, repaired all his breaches, supported and solaced him under all his trials and sorrows, made the fullness of Christ all his own, and empowered him with an ability to become an immense blessing to multitudes; hence the prominence which he gave to it in his public addresses, his private conversations, and spiritual letters; and hence, also, the bold relief in which it will be found the grace of faith stands in the subsequent narrative. Should there be any who call for a defense of this peculiarity in the book, we may refer them for such a defense to the example contained in the teaching of Jesus Christ and the apostles.
Of all the Wesleyan tenets, none was received by my father more heartily than the doctrine of Christian perfection. He saw it with the eyes that compiled the Wesleyan hymn book. Throughout his long Christian career he held it to be just as important as Mr. Wesley himself did when he said, “This doctrine is the grand depositum which God has lodged with the people called Methodists; and for the sake of propagating this chiefly He appeared to have raised us up.” “Where it is not strongly and explicitly preached, there is seldom any remarkable blessing of God; and consequently, little addition to the society, and little life in the members of it. . . . Speak, and spare not. Let not regard to any man induce you to betray the truth of God. Till you press believers to expect full salvation now, you must not look for any revival.”
“That point—entire salvation from inbred sin—can hardly ever be insisted upon in preaching or prayer without a particular blessing. Honest I. B. firmly believes this doctrine, that we are to be saved from all sin in this life. But I wish, when opportunity serves, you would encourage him: (1) To preach Christian perfection constantly, strongly, and explicitly; (2) Explicitly to assert and prove that it may be received now; and (3) That it is to be received by simple faith.”
Into all this pious ardor for “perfect holiness of heart by faith now” my father entered with the full tide of feeling and of conviction. It was no matter of speculation with him. He had felt his want of such a blessing as is understood by the words Christian perfection, entire sanctification, or perfect love. Unaided by human teaching, he searched the Scriptures and found that God had clearly promised it. By the prayer of faith he applied to the throne of grace for it, and the Spirit of holiness, with glorious power and demonstration, revealed it in his heart. Hence neither men nor devils could shake his faith in the verity of this doctrine, nor could his tongue or humble pen be silent in recommending it to all believers with whom he had intercourse. His success in this forms one of the most striking features of his brief history.
From his distinct profession on this point, together with the large development of his experience contained in this volume, some little instruction perhaps may be gained on the practical bearings of the doctrine. As far as his views and experience go, we learn:
(1) That perfect love admits of a direct and satisfactory testimony from the Spirit as to the time when God accomplishes the great work within us.
(2) That faith alone is the condition and instrument of its application.
(3) That it does not make man independent of the Atonement. On the contrary, it increases the believer’s consciousness of its necessity and inestimable worth, inasmuch as the holiness of God, the purity and extent of the law, the sinfulness of sin, and the defects of our lives, are better understood.
(4) That a present profession of enjoyment of the blessing is not responsible for failures past or to come. He that can now say, “In me verily is the love of God perfected,” may have often grieved the Spirit since he first knew this great salvation by experience, and may again cast away his confidence and feel a return of the carnal mind; for he stands only one moment at a time, and that moment by a faith whose life depends on our constancy in watching unto prayer.
(5) That in the time of temptation, when the soul is stripped of the joyous witness of the blessing, it is our privilege and our duty to go at once to the atoning sacrifice and exercise a bold and firm reliance on Christ for present and full salvation. This faith brings that blessed inward witness, the absence of which was a little before so sensibly felt.
(6) That when the believer has sustained a spiritual loss, and is conscious he has given way to sin, on the first perception of it he should humbly but instantly fly to the blood that makes the wounded whole, resting therein and agonizing in prayer till the soul be again completely restored.
(7) That although the enjoyment of perfect love does not admit of outward or inward sin, properly so called, yet it admits of a strong conviction of the presence of numberless shortcomings and infirmities. It requires a vivid perception of the evil of fallen, unregenerate nature, the aggravation of actual sins that are past, and the judgment for which they are continually calling, should we be found one moment separate from the atoning blood.
In the perusal of the following personal narrative it should be borne in mind that as an author my father labored under peculiar disadvantages; such indeed, I apprehend, as cannot be easily paralleled in the history of literature. Here is the singular instance of a man writing a volume for the instruction of the world, and raising himself into very extensive notoriety and esteem by his epistolary correspondence, who, at the advanced age of sixty-five, had never written a single sentence! At this period the utmost performance of his pen was to mark his class-book or class-paper and, on a rare occasion when circumstances required something of the kind, to put together, with much effort, the letters of the alphabet which composed his name.
As he used with much regularity to mark his class-paper when he returned from meeting, and commonly filled up the ruled interstices with the letter P, I remember my mother used now and then humorously to rally him about the extent of his penmanship, telling him that the utmost he could do was to make P’s. However, I am inclined to believe we are in a great degree indebted to this circumstance, which rendered him somewhat familiar with the use of a pen, for the benefit which he has conferred on others by his subsequent rather voluminous writing.
In the text of the following Memoir allusion is made to the circumstance which first called forth the use of his pen. From that hour an entirely new source of pleasure and usefulness was opened to his active and benevolent mind. And now thousands of closely-written pages in his hand-writing attest how piously and diligently he improved it. He, indeed, presents the remarkable phenomenon of a person who, with great diligence, toiled in business above half a century, acquired a sufficiency to retire with credit and comfort to himself, and who with his pen filled up volumes, and wrote hundreds of letters; and yet I believe not a page or a letter was ever written by him on any other topic than experimental and practical godliness! Surely this is one way of showing how fully he “counted all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord.”
After this statement respecting the origin of the book, it is presumed, with some degree of confidence, that the literary reader’s indulgence will not be asked in vain. The more important part of writing a free and perspicuous communication of his thoughts my father readily mastered; yet, from the great simplicity of his mind, and the fervor of his soul, he was generally drawn out too eagerly to grasp at things to pay much attention to orthography or the arrangement of words in a sentence. Still, such was the obvious improvement which he made in every department of writing, during the first few years after he commenced what may be inoffensively termed his literary life, that I think it likely, had any one attempted to give him, at seventy-five, only a very few lessons on the subject, he would have readily learned to write with considerable correctness.
In the mechanical part of the art of writing he excelled most men of his standing in life. I have before me a letter on a post sheet which was addressed to me. It contains upward of two hundred lines, or more matter than is contained in several of the printed pages of this book. And yet, so carefully is the whole written, and so distinctly are the letters formed, that it is just as legible, and can be read with as much ease, as a plain letter from a clever school-boy.
As my father’s letters were so numerous, and mostly so lengthy, and have in general been so carefully preserved by his affectionate correspondents, it would have been very easy to produce a volume two or three times the size of the present. The few which are inserted will serve as a specimen of his pious exertions in the epistolary way. Should any of his friends be disappointed at not finding their letters here, after they had kindly forwarded them for the use of the editor, his apology is that he feared to swell the book to such a magnitude as would necessarily make its price too great for a numerous class of persons, to whom it will probably be more useful than to any others, and by whom it is likely to be most highly prized.
In preparing the manuscripts for publication, the editor has felt it to be highly important to refrain as much as possible from altering the language in order that the narrator may, in his own words, tell his own simple, affecting story. Where necessary retrenchments and corrections have required a few verbal alterations, there has been no interference with the obvious meaning of the writer.
The editor cannot conclude his work—in which he has felt unwonted pleasure and profit—without expressing his hope that this little volume, however unpretending and defective in a literary point of view, will prove a blessing unto many. The Memoir of such a man cannot be read by the well disposed without imparting something of the sacred unction which followed him from place to place, from house to house, and from one class to another, and which rested upon him in his secret intercourse with God.
His personal friends will drop a tear over many of the incidents which he has recorded. As they call to mind how often the holy fire warmed their hearts when he was present to join in their devotions, they will feel a momentary return of the vital joys connected with the many happy opportunities now passed into the rear of time. To his own children in the faith, no doubt, this record will yield something more than a momentary pleasure. His own pious and telling narrative; his instructions, admonitions, and prayers, followed by his triumphant death, will attract and impel them toward that heavenly rest where they expect soon to meet again their beloved father in the Gospel. And as to such as have been unfaithful in improving the grace which they once professed to receive through his instrumentality, I am inclined to hope and to believe that some of them will be hereby again quickened, and restored to the liberty and enjoyment of the salvation of God.
With respect to the thousands of the unsaved whom he personally and earnestly warned and admonished, it is likely it will fall into the hands of many of them. I pray God that the perusal of it may bring their vows to their remembrance, and rivet on their consciences the solemn and important truths which their ears once heard from his thrilling voice. The pious reader, who personally knew him not, will doubtless soon recognize a kindred spirit, and “glorify God in him.”
Benjamin Carvosso
Preface to the Second Edition
It is a matter of no small gratification to the editor of this little work to find that a second edition is so soon called for, a large impression having been disposed of in about three months. From various quarters he has heard of the usefulness of the little volume. Many, it appears, especially aged and experienced Christians, have read it greatly to their souls’ profit. With not a few it has produced a kind of new era in their “life of faith in the Son of God.” For this the editor is devoutly thankful to the Author of all good, and earnestly prays that the divine blessing may still more especially attend its further circulation among the churches. Agreeably to the wish of the benevolent writer, the profits of this as well as of the former edition will be applied to the spread of the Kingdom of Christ in the world. Nov. 1835.
