About three months after he commenced the note-book of which the above is the first paragraph, he began writing another little volume, which he entitled “Sunday Reading.” It is the most personal and the most interesting of all that he has written. From his boyhood until his death, his writings were always truthful, often frank; but in these pages he photographs his own consciousness, his own soul, for future reference and comparison.
In these two books it is pleasing and useful to see how the boy sets about improving his mind and sanctifying his heart, just as a sensible and practical person undertakes the accomplishment of any purpose. He does, indeed, seem to have been in moral communication with God from his earliest years; for he not only shows a practical spirit, but he proceeds with a ready faith in the laws of cause and consequence in the moral world, analogous to a child’s instinctive trust in physical laws.
But now listen to Walter Aimwell himself, as he speaks in the first article of his book of “Sunday Reading:—
“It is not only profitable and pleasant occasionally to look back upon all the way in which the Lord our God hath led us, but perhaps it ought rather to be considered as a duty. For if ever the heart is melted to gratitude, it ought to be when it is looking back upon its past life, and contemplating the various scenes through which it has passed. And if this is true of the common events of life, how much more is it of our religious experience, which reminds us of the manner in which God first called our attention to the subject of our soul’s salvation, and of our success in the Christian warfare. As I regard my religious experience as embracing by far the most important events of my life, I have thought it would not be altogether useless to preserve in writing a short account of it. If ever this heart should grow cold and stupid (which God forbid), may he grant that the perusal of these pages—containing an account of his providential dealings with me in times past—may awaken me from my ungrateful stupidity, and lead me to examine myself and see if my foundation is sure. However, I would remember that I am not to live on past experience or present hope, but to ‘press forward.’
“From my earliest childhood, I believe I have felt the influence of the Spirit of God. Well do I remember, when quite young, retiring with a younger brother to pray. And I recollect most vividly the ‘meetings’ I used to hold when left alone with him on Sabbath evenings. We would sing and pray, and then I would read an extract from some religious book, which we denominated the ‘sermon.’ And I remember the pleasure I took, still later, in going to meeting, even on week days. During this time I was a member of the Tabernacle Sabbath school in Salem, and was in the class of Mr. E. G., and subsequently of Mr. N. P. It is not to flatter my pride that I make these statements, or because I think I was an uncommonly good child; for I well remember many things of my childhood which I should blush to relate; besides, these things only serve to increase the guilt of my subsequent life.
“But, though I was thus blest with right sentiments in my earliest days, yet my heart gradually grew harder, until I began to lose all personal interest in the subject. I cannot recollect any special strivings of the Spirit until I began to reside in Boston, at which time I was about thirteen years of age. But few words are required to relate what took place from this time up to my seventeenth year. I attended no regular place of worship, and frequently spent my Sabbaths in strolling the city, or in reading and writing. I did not read a Bible once in two or three months, and, to tell the truth, I did not even own one. But, though I thus neglected the sanctuary privileges, I was frequently rebuked by my conscience, and I believe the Holy Spirit often strove with me, and I was determined to be a Christian when I had ‘a more convenient season.’
“In the year 1839, when between sixteen and seventeen years of age, I was frequently alarmed, and thought much on the subject of religion. Especially do I remember one occasion when I attended for the first time an inquiry-meeting. But there were so many present I had no opportunity for personal conversation, and my interest soon subsided.
“Again was my interest called up, and it seemed as if every sermon I heard had a serious effect upon me. I procured a Bible, and commenced praying. I think it was about this time that I made the following resolution, which I committed to paper in a secret handwriting, and laid in my trunk, that my eyes might frequently remind me of my promise:—
“‘Alone in the presence of my God, I solemnly declare it to be my intention, the rest of my life, to endeavor to do my duty to him, and to strive to enter in at the strait gate; and in order to do this I will no more neglect prayer, the reading of the Bible, and other exercises of a similar nature.