“I went by the field of the slothful

“I went by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding; And, lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and nettles  had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall thereof was broken down. Then I saw, and considered it well: I looked upon it, and received instruction.”—Proverbs 24:30-32

Whether the present age be worse than others that have preceded it, I shall not determine. But this is manifest: it abounds not only in infidelity and profligacy,but also with great numbers of loose characters among professing Christians. It is true, there are some eminently zealous and spiritual, perhaps as much so as at almost any former period: the disinterested concern, which has appeared for the diffusion of evangelical religion, is doubtless a hopeful feature of our times. Yet it is no less evident that others are in a sad degree conformed to this world instead of being transformed by the renewing of their minds. Even of those who retain a decency of character, many are sunk into a Laodicean lukewarmness (Rev 3:14-22). Professors are continually falling away from Christ, eithertotally, to walk no more with Him, or partially, so as greatly to dishonor His name. Alas, how many characters of this description are to be found in our congregations! If we only review the progress of things for twenty or thirty years past, we shall perceive many who once bid fair for the kingdom of heaven now fallen a prey to the temptations of the world. Like the blossoms in the spring, they for a time excited our hopes; but a blight has succeeded. The blossom has gone up as the dust, and the “root” in many cases appears to be “rottenness” (Isa 5:24).

It is one important branch of the work of a faithful pastor to strengthen the diseased, to heal the sick, to bind up the broken, to bring again that which is driven away, and to seek that which is lost (Eze 34:4). If these pages should fall into the hands of but a few of the above description and contribute in any degree to their recovery from the snare of the devil, the writer will be amply rewarded. It is a pleasure to recover any sinner from the error of his way, but much more those of whom we once thought favorably. The place, which they formerly occupied in our esteem, our hopes, and our social exercises, now seems to be a kind of chasm, which can be filled up only by the return of the party. If a child departs from his father’s house and plunge into profligacy and ruin, the father may have other children and may love them. But none of them can heal his wound, nor can anything

satisfy him, but the return of “him that was lost.”

ON THE GENERAL NATURE AND DIFFERENT SPECIES OF BACKSLIDING: All backsliding from God originates in a departure of heart from Him; herein consist the essence and the evil of it. “Thine own wickedness shall correct thee, and thy backslidings shall reprove thee: know therefore and see that it is an evil thing and bitter, that thou hast forsaken the LORD thy God, and that my fear is not in thee, saith the Lord GOD of hosts” (Jer 2:19). But the degrees of this sin and the modes in which it operates are various.

The backsliding of some is total. After having made a profession of the true religion, they apostatize from it. I am aware it is common to consider a backslider as being a good man, though in a bad state of mind; but the Scriptures do not confine the term to this application. Those who are addressed in the passage just quoted had not the fear of God in them, which can never be said of a good man. Backsliding, it is true, always supposes a profession of the true religion; but it does not necessarily suppose the existence of the thing professed. There is a “perpetual backsliding” and a “draw[ing] back unto perdition” (Jer 8:5; Heb 10:39). Such characters were Saul, Ahithophel, and Judas. Many persons have in a great degree declined the practice of religion who yet comfort themselves with an idea that they shall be brought to repentance before they die; but this is presumptuously tempting God. Whosoever plunges into this gulf or continues easy in it, under an idea of being recovered by repentance, may find himself mistaken. Both Peter and Judas went in, but only one of them came out! There is reason to fear that thousands of professors are now lifting up their eyes in torment, who in this world reckoned themselves good men, who considered their sins as pardonable errors, and laid their accounts with being brought to repentance. But, ere they were aware, the Bridegroom came, and they were not ready to meet him (Mat 25:1-13).

The nature and deadly tendency of sin is the same in itself, whether in a wicked or in a righteous man. There is an important difference, however, between the backsliding of the one and that of the other. That of the hypocrite arises from his having “not root in himself” (Mat 13:21). Therefore, it is that in the time of temptation he falleth away. But that of the sincere Christian respects the culture of the branch and is owing to unwatchfulness or remissness in duty. The former, in turning back, returns to a course which his heart always preferred; the latter, though in what he does he is not absolutely involuntary, for then it were innocent; yet it is not with a full or perfect consent of his will. He does not sin willfully; that which he does he allows not. It is against the habitual disposition of his soul. He is not himself, as we should say, while so acting. Finally, th

one, were it not for the remorse of conscience which may continue to haunt him and disturb his peace, would be in his element in having made a full riddance of religion; but this is not the case with the other. A life of deviation and distance from God is not his element, nor can he enjoy himself in it. This difference is remarkably exemplified in the cases of Saul and David. The religion of the former never appears to have fitted him; he was continually acting awkwardly with it and presently threw it aside. If, in addition to this, he could have forgotten it and lived without being terrified by the apprehension of consequences, he would doubtless have been much the happier for having cast it off. But when the latter had sinned, he was not like the raven that went forth of the ark and came no more; but like the dove that could find no rest for the sole of her foot until she returned. The thirty-second and thirty-eighth Psalms express the wretchedness of his mind until he confessed his sin and obtained mercy.

But whatever difference there is between a partial and a total departure from God, it will be difficult, if not impossible, for the party himself at the time to perceive it. So long as any man continues in a backsliding state, the reality of his religion must remain uncertain. He may not be without hope, nor ought he to be without fear. The Scriptures know nothing of that kind of confidence, which renders men easy in their sins. Paul stood in doubt of the Galatians, and they ought to have stood in doubt of themselves. The species of backsliding are various; some respect doctrine, others practice; but all are the operations of a heart departing from the living God.

In some, a backsliding spirit first appears by a relinquishment of evangelical doctrine.Where truth is treated merely as a matter of speculation or as an opinion of no great moment, it is not held fast. And where this is the case, it is easily surrendered. If a plausible book in favor of deism or any of those vain systems, which nearly approach it, fall in their way, they are ready to yield. And by reading the performance a second time or conversing with a person who favors it, they make shipwreck of their faith and are driven on the rocks of infidelity. Such was the process in the days of the Apostles: those who “received not the love of the truth” were given up to “believe a lie” (2Th 2:11). If these departures from evangelical principles were closely examined, it would be found that they were preceded by a neglect of private prayer, watchfulness, self-diffidence, and walking humbly with God; and every one may perceive that they are followed with similar effects. It has been acknowledged, by some who have embraced the Socinian system, that since they entertained those views they had lost even the gift of prayer. Perhaps they might draw up and read an address to the Deity, but they could not pray. Where the principles of the Gospel are abandoned, the spirit of prayer

and of all close walking with God will go with it. The confession of Peter that Jesus “was the Christ, the Son of God” is thought to be that which our Lord denominates the rock on which He would build His church (Mat 16:18). We are sure that the belief of this article of faith was required as a kind of test of Christianity; and who can look into the Christian world with attention and not perceive that it continues a sort of keystone to the building? If this gives way, the fabric falls. Backslidings of this nature are infinitely dangerous. He that declines in holy practice has to labor against the remonstrances of conscience; but he that brings himself to think lightly of sin and meanly of the Savior (which is what every false system of religion teaches) has gone far towards silencing the accusations of this unpleasant monitor. He is upon good terms with himself. The disorder of his soul is deep; but it is of a flattering nature. The declension of serious religion in him is no less apparent to others than that of the constitution by a consuming hectic; yet, as is common in such cases, the party himself thinks he shall do well. In short, “the light that is in [him is] darkness” (Mat 6:23); and this is the greatest of all darkness!

In others, a departure of heart from God is followed by falling into some gross immorality.There are instances in which a sudden misconduct of this sort has been overruled for the awakening of the mind from its stupor and divesting it of its self-confidence. It was manifestly thus with the Apostle Peter. The stumbling of such persons is not that they should fall; but rather that they should stand with greater care and firmness. But the greatest danger arises from those cases where some lust of the flesh has gradually obtained an ascendancy over the heart, so that when the subject of it falls in the eyes of the world, it is only appearing to be what he has long been in secret. And the first wrong step that he makes, instead of alarming him and occasioning his going aside to weep bitterly, is only the prelude to a succession of others. This is not the fall of one who is “overtaken in a fault” (Gal 6:1), but of one who is entangled in the net of his own corruptions. One sin prepares the way for another. Like the insect infolded in the spider’s web, he loses all power of resistance and falls a prey to the destroyer.

Some have fallen sacrifices to intemperance, not by being overtaken in a single act of intoxication, but by contracting a habit of hard drinking. First, it was indulged in private, perhaps under some outward trouble, instead of carrying it to a throne of grace. In a little time, its demands increased. At length, it could no longer be kept a secret; reason was enslaved to sense, and the Christian professor sunk below the man! Others have indulged in impurity. Intimacies which may have arisen from nothing worse than a few improper familiarities—yea, which in some instances have

originated in religion itself, have been known, through the corrupt propensities of the human heart, which turns everything it touches into poison, to produce the most fatal effects. Passions of this sort once kindled will soon possess all the soul. They leave no room for any thing that should resist them; not only consuming every spiritual desire and holy thought, but also banishing from the mind even the sober dictates of reason, reducing the most exalted characters to the rank of fools in Israel. Near these rocks are seen many a floating wreck and, among these quicksands, numbers who once bade fair for the haven of everlasting life.

Another way in which a departure from God very often operates is by the love of the world.It is not uncommon for persons who once appeared to be zealous, affectionate, and devoted to God, when they come to be settled in life and to enter into its necessary avocations, to lose all heart for religion and take no delight in anything but saving money. This, it is true, is not generally considered by the world as disreputable. On the contrary, provided we are fair in our dealings, it is reckoned a mark of wisdom. “Men will praise thee, when thou doest well to thyself” (Psa 49:18). Such a one, say they, is a discreet man, and one that knows how to secure the main chance. Yet the Scriptures are very decisive against such characters.

This is the sin which they denominate “the lust of the eyes” (1Jo 2:16). The cares, riches, and pleasures of this life are described as choking the Word and rendering it unfruitful. It is worthy of special notice that when our Lord had warned His followers to “take heed, and beware of covetousness” (Luk 12:15), the example that He gives of this sin is not of one that was a plunderer of other men’s property, an unfair dealer, or an oppressor of the poor, but of a “certain rich man” whose ground “brought forth plentifully” (Luk 12:16-21). [His] only object appeared to be, first, to acquire a handsome fortune and then to retire from business and live at his ease. This also appears to be the character that is blessed by wicked men, but abhorred of God (Psa 10:3). A man who deals unfairly with men gains not their blessing, but their curse. Men, in general, regard only themselves. So long, therefore, as any person deals justly with them, they care not what his conduct is towards God. But it is affecting to think that the very character that they bless and envy, God abhors. The decision of Heaven is nothing less than this: “If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him” (1Jo 2:15)…

It has long appeared to me that this species of covetousness will prove, in all probability, the eternal overthrow of more characters among professing people than almost any other sin; and this because it is almost the only sin that may be indulged and a profession of religion at the same time

supported. If a man is a drunkard, a fornicator, an adulterer, or a liar—if he rob his neighbor, oppress the poor, or deal unjustly—he must give up his pretensions to religion. Or, if not, his religious connections, if they are worthy of being so denominated, will give him up. But he may “love the world, and the things of the world” (1Jo 2:15) and at the same time retain his character. If the depravity of the human heart is not subdued by the grace of God, it will operate….Thus it is with religious professors whose hearts are not right with God. They cannot figure away with the profane nor indulge in gross immoralities; but they can love the world supremely, to the neglect of God, and be scarcely amenable to human judgment…

Further, many have fallen sacrifices not only to the love of the world, but also to a conformity to it. These are not the same thing, though frequently found in the same person. The object of the one is principally the acquisition of wealth; the other respects the manner of spending it. That is often penurious; this wishes to cut a figure and appear like people of fashion. The former is “the lust of the eye”; the latter is “the pride of life.” We need not affect singularity in things indifferent; but to engage in the chase of fashionable appearance is not only an indication of a vain and little mind, but is certainly inconsistent with pressing towards the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. The desire of making an appearance has ruined many people in their circumstances, more in their characters, and most of all in their souls. We may flatter ourselves that we can pursue these things and be religious at the same time; but it is a mistake. The vanity of mind, which they cherish, eats up everything of a humble, serious, and holy nature, rendering us an easy prey to temptation when solicited to do as others do in an evil thing.

A Christian’s rule is the revealed will of God; and, where the customs of the world run counter to this, it is his business to withstand them, even though in so doing he may have to withstand a multitude, yea, and a multitude of people of fashion. But if we feel ambitious of their applause, we shall not be able to endure the scorn that a singularity of conduct will draw upon us. Thus, either we shall be carried down the stream by the course of this world and shall fall into the gulf of perdition, or, if any good thing should be found in us towards the Lord God of Israel, it will be almost indiscernible and useless. In short, such characters are certainly in a backsliding state, whether they be ever recovered from it or not. The case of the Laodiceans seems to approach the nearest to theirs of any thing which in Scripture occurs to me. They were “neither cold nor hot”—neither the decided friends of Christ nor His avowed enemies. They could not relinquish the world in favor of religion, yet neither could they let religion alone. They were vainly puffed up, with a notion of their wealth, their

wisdom, and their finery, saying, “I am rich, and increased in goods, and have need of nothing”; but, in the account of the Faithful and True Witness, they were “poor, and wretched, and miserable, and blind, and naked.” Such a decision ought to make us tremble at the thought of aspiring to imitate people of fashion.

SYMPTOMS OF A BACKSLIDING SPIRIT: The Apostle Paul speaks of a certain state of mind which he feared he should find in the Corinthians, that of their having sinned and not repented of their deeds (2Co 12:21). This it is which denominates a man a backslider, and which, so long as it continues, deprives him of any scriptural foundation for concluding himself interested in forgiving mercy. What are the particular symptoms of this state of mind is the object of our present inquiry.

If our departing from the Lord have issued in some outward misconduct, there is no need of inquiring into the proofs of it, as the thing speaks for itself. But if its operations have been at present only internal, the inquiry may be highly necessary, that we may become acquainted with our condition, and that the disease may be healed ere it finishes its operations. Further, though it may be out of all doubt that we have sinned, yet it may be a matter of uncertainty whether or not we have repented. If we imagine we have when we have not, the consequence may be of the most serious nature. Let the following observations then be attended to:

First, if religious duties are attended to rather from custom or conscience than from love, we must never have known what true religion is; or, in a great degree, [we] have lost the spirit of it. We may have been guilty of no particular outward evil, so as to have fallen under the censure of the world or of even our nearest connections, and yet have so far lost the spirit of religion as to be really in a backsliding state. The exercises of prayer, reading the Scriptures, hearing the Word, and giving something to the poor may be kept up in form, and yet be little, if any thing, more than a form. The church of Ephesus was not accused of any particular outward misconduct, but they had “left their first love” (Rev 2:4). Where this is the case, however, much will be neglected, especially of those parts of duty that fall not under the eye of creatures. It is supposed of the church just referred to that they had relaxed, if not in the actual performance, yet in the manner of performing their religious exercises. Therefore, they are exhorted to “repent, and to do their first works” (Rev 2:5). A departure from our first love is commonly the first step of a backsliding course.Perhaps, if the truth were known, there are few open falls but what are preceded by a secret departure of heart from the living God.

Secondly, if we have fallen into any particular sin, which exposes us to the censures of our friends, and instead of confessing it with sorrow are employed in defending or palliating it, it is a certain proof that we are at present under the power of it. Some sins cannot be defended. But there are others that will admit of much being said on their behalf, and it is admirable with what ingenuity men will go about to find excuses where self is concerned. People that you would hardly think possessed of common sense will in this case be singularly quick-sighted, discerning every circumstance that may make in their favor or serve to extenuate their fault. The cunning of the old serpent, which appeared in the excuses of our first parents, seems here to supply the place of wisdom. This self-justifying spirit is a very dangerous symptom: while it continues, there is no hope of a good issue. We read of the deceitfulness of sin; and, truly, it is with great propriety that deceit is ascribed to it. Perhaps there are few persons who are employed in justifying their failings, but who are first imposed upon or brought to think somehow, that they are, if not quite justifiable, yet very excusable. Sin, when we have committed it, loses its sinfulness and appears a very different thing to what it did in others. David’s indignation could rise against the man that had taken a ewe-lamb, while to his own conduct, which was much more criminal, he was blinded! When we commit any sin, it is common for it to assume another name. By means of this, we become easily reconciled to it and are ready to enter on a vindication of it. Covetousness will admit of a defense under the names of prudence, industry, or frugality. Conformity to the world may be pleaded for as an exercise of sociability and good breeding; unchristian resentment, as necessary self-defense; foolish levity, as innocent mirth; malignantcontentions, as zeal for the truth…

Thirdly, though we do not defend or palliate our sin in words, yet, if we continue in the practice of it, we may be certain we have not repented. All true repentance is followed by a forsaking of the evil. Where this effect is not produced, there can be no Scriptural ground to hope for forgiveness. There are sins, as before observed, which will admit of no defense. If a person is convicted of them, he can do no other than own himself in the wrong or at least be silent. Yet he may feel no sorrow on their account, nor scarcely any intention to forsake them. When Samuel reproved Saul for his rebellion against the commandment of the Lord, assuring him that God had rejected him from being king and had given the kingdom to a neighbor of his that was better than he, he was confounded and compelled to say, “I have sinned” (1Sa 15:24). Yet the only concern he discovered was because of having lost his honor. As soon as he suspected who his rival was, he sought to slay him….A sullen silence under reproof and a perseverance in the evil are certain signs of a hard and impenitent heart.

Fourthly, though we should refrain from the practice of the evil, yet if it is only a temporary effect of conviction, there is no true repentance. It is very common for persons, when they first fall into any gross sin, to feel ashamed and alarmed, to wish they had not acted as they have, and to resolve that they will do so no more. And this, though the love of the evil be the same and on the first temptation that returns it is committed again, is nevertheless frequently mistaken for repentance. When Saul’s life was spared by David, and his groundless malice against him detected, his heart seemed to relent. He felt ashamed, owned his sin, lifted up his voice and wept, and promised to do so no more. But this was not repentance. David appears to have suspected it at the time; for he would not trust himself in his hands, but gat him up into the hold. The event justified his conduct. The first opportunity that offered, Saul returned to the folly that he had condemned.

A temporary abstinence from evil may also be produced by some alarming providence. When judgments overtake us and conscience tells us that it is the hand of the Lord stretched out against us for our sin, the mind is appalled with fear and so ceases to be in a state to pursue its favorite devices. But if, as soon as the pressing hand of Providence is removed, the heart returns like a spring to its former position, there is no reason to consider its temporary depression as containing any true repentance…

When a professor of religion has fallen into some odious vice, and wishes to shelter himself from the censures of his connections, you will often hear him allege, “I have repented,” whereas it amounts to little more than the shame and alarm…as his after-conduct very frequently proves. Indeed, it is not of the nature of true repentance to talk of having repented, and especially for the purpose of evading a faithful censure.

Fifthly, though we should refrain from the open practice of the sin, and that for a continuance, yet if it is merely from prudential or selfsh considerations, we may be certain that we have not yet repented it. Though we had no religion and pretended to none, we might find various inducements to refrain from gross immoralities. They affect our interest, our health, and our reputation. It is on such principles that mere worldly men will guard against them; and, if we act from the same motives, wherein are we better than they are? Or if the dread of future punishment may be supposed to have some influence upon us, this is a very different thing from the fear of the Lord,which is to hate evil. And where the motives for abstaining from any evil are merely prudential or selfish, we shall abstain from very little more than that which falls under the eye of creatures. Our

watchfulness will respect little, if any thing, more than outward actions. The daily care of our lives will be, not how we shall please God, but how we shall conceal the prevailing dispositions of our hearts from those about us—a task as difficult as it is mean; for whatever occupies our thoughts and affections will on various occasions, notwithstanding our utmost care, escape us. Looks, gestures, manner of speaking and acting, as well as words and deeds themselves, betray what is predominant within. Hence, it is that we generally deceive ourselves in these matters. We often fancy our character to be unknown when it is well known; and if it were otherwise, all is naked and open to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do. Of this, we may be certain: while our chief concern is to hide our sins from those about us, should we be summoned to give an account of our stewardship, it will appear that we have sinned and not repented of our deeds. Wherein this differs from going down to the grave with our guilt upon our heads, it is difficult to say.

Sixthly, if we take pleasure in talking of the evil or in dwelling upon it in our thoughts, it is a certain sign of the same thing. True repentance works in a way of silent shame and self-abasement: “That thou mayest remember, and be confounded, and never open thy mouth any more because of thy shame, when I am pacified toward thee for all that thou hast done, saith the Lord GOD” (Eze 16:63). When men can talk and even write of their former wicked courses with lightness, it is a certain proof that, whatever repentance they have had, they do not repent of it at present. Though nothing be said or written, yet if such things occupy our thoughts, imaginations, and affections, it is much the same. A mind full of this must needs be lacking of those spiritual exercises, which render us that we shall be neither barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Those that are such are described fitly enough as having forgotten that they were purged from their old sins (2Pe 1:9). If old sins are thought of with new delight, they are reacted and persisted in. Where this continues to be the case, the guilt of them must remain upon us and may be found upon our heads when we go down to the grave.

Lastly, if we trifle with temptation or be not afraid of putting ourselves in the way of it or even of being led into it, we may be certain that at present we have not repented of our sin. It is a saying almost grown into a proverb, “He that is not afraid of temptation is not afraid of sin; and he that is not afraid of sin must needs be in danger of being destroyed by it.” If, after having been repeatedly drawn into sin by associating in certain companies or certain pursuits, we can, nevertheless, run into them again without fear, we cannot possibly have repented of our deeds. Nay more, though we should fear to plunge ourselves into temptation, yet if, when Providence brings u

into such situations and companies, our hearts secretly rejoice in it, this is no less an evidence of our impenitent state than the other. True repentance will not only teach us to shun the way of evil, but to be averse to every avenue that leads to it. If, therefore, we either run into temptation or are glad when we are led into it, we are beyond all doubt under the power of it.