Madeley, Jan. 26th, 1816.
My dear Mary,
I HAVE been much struck of late with the forcible manner in which the
providence of God has been co-operating with his word in the endeavour to
teach me a lesson, which, of all others, I find so exceedingly difficult
to learn; I mean that of so numbering my days as to apply my heart unto
wisdom. The removal of my dear mother-in-law, the unusual number of
deaths among all descriptions of persons in my own immediate
neighbourhood, and especially that of Mrs. Fletcher; all these conspiring
circumstances loudly enforce the necessity of being sober and watching
unto prayer, of having my loins girt and my lamp burning, of being in a
prepared posture of expectation, waiting for the coming of my Lord.
These effects, I am thankful to state, have in some measure been
gratefully traced by me in my recent experience. One thing seems to me
more than ever to be truly needful, not indeed the obtaining and the
securing of inheritances below, but the getting prepared for my
inheritance above—an inheritance to which every day and every hour spent
for God is adding some increase of comfort, and which, when once
possessed, will be found to be worth the possessing—an inheritance
incorruptible, undefiled, and which fadeth not away. O my dear Mary, how
does the grand enemy of our souls destroy by deluding! how does he
infatuate the world at large! how gross also the deception which he
practises even upon believers themselves, making then live nine-tenths of
their time, if not sinfully, at least uselessly for themselves, or for
the world, instead of for God and eternity, as a matter of course,
instead of with a pure and single aim. But, alas! what is any action
when stripped of its proper motive, I mean the glory of God. A man may
give liberally to the poor, he may carefully regulate his household,
bring up his children decently and even morally, and restrain his
domestics from immoralities and inconsistencies. But if our liberality
is connected with our own reputation, if our children be merely educated
that they may bring credit and comfort to us, or if our dependents are
restrained and their good consulted, because it would reflect dishonour
upon us to pursue a contrary course; if these be our motives, what are
they after all but mere selfishness? There is no reference to God in all
these actions, and, of course, no eternal reward can be expected from
them. Their reference is to ourselves and that also in our present
state, but the future is left entirely out of the question. I grant,
indeed, that a present reward is obtained, but this is all, and, in fact,
it is all which in most cases is sought for. The benevolent man has the
reputation for benevolence, which he seeks; the moral educator of his
children has the satisfaction of seeing them orderly and decent, and they
bring to him the temporal comfort which he desired; the strict and moral
master has in the same way the present fruit of his labours. But if
God’s glory, if a sincere desire of pleasing him, has not been combined
with the motives of these respective individuals, no eternal fruit will
be found from them. They die with this present world. How uselessly,
then, if not sinfully, are the generality of persons employed, and what
need have we all to strive to live more completely under the influence of
unseen celestial realities! I feel these truths while I am writing them,
and the earnest prayer of my soul is, that, as a consequence of them, my
inheritance may rather be in reserve than in immediate possession.