TO HIS SISTER.

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.