Wellington, March 16th, 1813.
I have enclosed a copy of a new edition of _Alleine’s Alarm_, published
by Mr. Gilpin. It was this book, to which, under God, I feel indebted
for the determination which some years ago I received, with respect to my
views and conduct. I love it greatly in its old and less inviting garb,
but far better now. Ah, my dear sister, many profess religion, many
enjoy some of its comforts, feel pleasure in an attendance upon its
institutions and its ordinances; but, to walk closely with God, to get a
deep and thorough knowledge both of him and of our own souls, to
penetrate beneath the surface of religion and to forward the life—the
inward life of God in the soul, something more is required. In order to
this, our eye must be kept constantly directed to one and the same point;
we must learn that one thing is supereminently needful, and that
everything which stands in competition with it must be considered as dung
and as dross. May God in mercy impart to both of us such clear, such
vivid and luminous views of its importance, that the present world and
all its gaudy trifles may be lessened in our estimation, and that true
and vital godliness, deep and genuine spirituality, may become more and
more the objects of our pursuits. We were yesterday with dear Mrs.
Fletcher, and received, as usual, much profit from her choice, savoury,
and spiritual remarks. The book, which lay open before her, was her
Bible. I could not help thinking how much more efficaciously we should
all of us proceed, both as ministers and private Christians, if this
blessed book were more frequently and more seriously perused. There is a
strange feeling with respect to it existing in the minds of most persons
who may be considered as even pious characters. They would not feel
happy if they suffered the day to pass over without reading their chapter
or chapters, but still they do it as a duty, merely as a duty. How
rarely is it taken up as a privilege, as the book of books, as the very
choicest treasure which we could possibly open; and yet, unless it be
thus resorted to, thus feelingly read and studied, how can we expect to
be great proficients in the Divine Life—how can we drink deep into the
Spirit of our God? Could we see into the manner in which many
individuals perform the duties of their closet, we should not be much at
a loss to discover the reason of their want of spirituality. It might
all be easily and naturally traced to this one single source—their hour
thus set apart is gone through in a manner not very dissimilar to a horse
in a mill; they go round and round with the same lifeless formality; and
when their duty is over, they pass with unaltered uninfluenced feelings
to anything which may next engage their attention; but how different from
those who walk in their solitude with God; who go to their closets as if
they were about to meet the very best friend they have upon earth; who
feel heavenly emotions on every such occasion rekindled; whose hearts are
made to burn within them; in short, who so wait upon God as to renew
their strength; who carry from their privacy a holy influence which is
easily discovered in the whole of their converse, tempers, and pursuits.
Give our kind love to Eliza, and accept the same yourself. To both of
you we feel no small degree of affectionate regards; we often talk of
you, but still oftener make you the subject of our thoughts.