IN Him we live, in Him we move ;
Seek not thy God afar ;
He is not prisoned in a height above sun, moon, and star,
But thou through strange dark lands hast strayed, and wandered far from Him ;
And therefore He, O soul, to thee, is distant, and is dim.
Lord, I was in the far-off land, I loved from Thee to stray,
And when unto myself I came, a swineherd far away,
One moment—then the welcome sweet, the kiss—the Father's Home ;
Far distant was the distance ; to Thy bosom I am come.
—G. TERSTEEGEN.
THE little town itself, with the pleasant country round, had a charm for the boy ; for he loved all that was beautiful, and could therefore find beauty and loveliness where others might have overlooked it—in the fields and meadows and the summer woods, of which later he wrote as only poets can write.
But his life at Mülheim was not to his taste by any means. His biographer, Kerlen, writing in 1853, relates that he had known long ago a very old woman who had known Tersteegen. He had told her that between his hours of business he used his utmost endeavours to find a quiet place and time for study and for prayer ; for very soon after his arrival at Mulheim he made the acquaintance of one of "the quiet in the land," an " awakened " merchant, who spoke to him of the things of God. Gerhardt listened, and at times was almost persuaded to give himself to Christ. But the power of Satan and the world were armed against him, and he remained miserable and conscience-stricken, as he who was " sent into the fields to feed swine." Thus he describes himself at that time.
But none around him understood why he was restless and dissatisfied, and unlike the merry boy of former days. Good Matthias Brink was of opinion that reading and thinking produced evil results, many and great. And, therefore, when a spare hour was found, he employed Gerhardt in rolling empty casks across the yard ; "for Satan finds some mischief still, for idle hands to do," thought the worthy merchant, anxious for the welfare of his charge.
The Mulheim life therefore had few pleasures. Occasionally Gerhardt was allowed to go out to some of the conventicles, and took the opportunity of borrowing books, which he read at night. We can well believe his business training was very hateful to him. But later on he said, " The Holy Ghost used my outward employments as a good training and school for my mind."
No doubt it was in reality very much the thing needed for a boy who was apt to dream and lose himself in useless speculations about things in heaven above and earth beneath. A friend could say of him in much later days, "I know not that I ever knew a man more circumspect, more punctual and practical in words and deeds."
It was not strange that the conventicles soon had a great attraction for Gerhardt. He felt a marvellous power which reached to the depths of his soul when he heard the preaching of Ernest Hochmann, and of others of the "quiet in the land."
Eight years before he arrived at Mulheim, a young candidate of theology, Hoffman by name, had been converted there through the preaching of Hochmann, and had since then been holding meetings every Thursday, which were originally held by Untereyk before Gerhardt Tersteegen was born. These meetings were in no way connected with the Established Church, and had therefore a suspicion of heresy attached to them.
Hoffmann was himself included in this suspicion, and all the more because he had declined to sign his approval of the whole of the Heidelberg catechism. He was therefore spoken of as one "who, under the pretext of zeal for true Christianity, was likely to lead many away from the regular services of the ordained preachers, and thereby cause divisions and disorder."
Hoffmann was warned that if he continued to carry on the Thursday meetings, he would be openly put away from fellowship with the Reformed Church. It would seem also that he had published a suspicious little book, namely, a catechism of his own, called Short Instructions for Little Children. "A simple, touching, childlike catechism," writes Goebel, "without the Ten Commandments, in which the example of Jesus is specially held up before the children's minds, containing also prayers, and hymns, and extracts from an English book, laneway's Examples of Early Piety,"
Whilst the elders and the whole of the synod of Cleves were considering the dangers of Hoffman's teaching, the rumour reached them that some of his hearers had collected money to build a large hall, as more accommodation was needed. A solemn admonition was therefore addressed to him to desist from his evil ways. But Hoffmann had his hall and continued his meetings notwithstanding.
Gerhardt not only came to the meetings, but attached himself warmly to Hoffmann, and felt more strongly that an irresistible power was drawing his heart to God. And yet, as long as he could do so, he held back, though, as he tells us, " threats and invitations a thousand fold" aroused him and allured him. We do not know at what moment the first spark of light and life broke in upon the darkness ; but it was not till the year 1717, when he was nearly twenty years old, that he could say, " God called me out of the world, and gave me the desire to belong to Him wholly, and to follow Him fully. His grace it is which keeps us in this mind up to the end."
It was in this same year that Gerhardt, having finished his years of apprenticeship to Matthias Brink, set up in business for himself His business, however, proved a failure. We can well believe, that with a sincere desire to be diligent and faithful, his heart was elsewhere. But it was necessary to support himself, and not to be a burden on his mother. He had made the acquaintance of an " awakened " linen-weaver, and by his advice he betook himself to the same employment. But the work proved too hard for him, and gave him little time to be alone. Later in the same year, 1719, he took a lodging, and began to weave ribbon. This he could do in his own room, and it was with inexpressible delight that he found himself now solitary and undisturbed. His only companion was a little girl who occasionally came in for a part of the day to wind his silk.
" How happy I was," he wrote afterwards, "when I found myself living all alone! I often thought no king in the whole world could be as fully contented as I was. I scarcely knew when it was meal time, or what I ate, or how it tasted, and often for a whole week I saw no one but the servant girl who brought me my food."
This food he generally cooked himself. It was of the simplest sort, for he saved his money to buy necessaries for others. Flour, water, and milk formed the ingredients of his meals ; and for the first few years of his solitary life he ate but once in the day.
He worked from five in the morning till nine in the evening; but earned, notwithstanding, so little, that he often lay down at night not knowing how to provide food for the next day. "No friends," he wrote afterwards, " knew anything of my circumstances," This was probably after the death of his mother, in 1721. She had been near enough to know something of her son's affairs, but may perhaps have been too infirm to visit him.
He generally went out after dark when he was not seen, to pay visits to the poor and needy. He also went to see the linen-weaver, and his beloved friend Hoffmann. He had now much time for prayer, and also much time for reading.