I enter upon the subject, on which you bid me write with fear and trembling. My abilities are really far from being equal to it: for although I know many Christians, who would immediately cry out, that it needed not one moment’s consideration, I dare not do so; for I now really _feel_ the weight of it upon my soul. *’Tis a most alarming truth, that a minister may speak with the tongue of men and of angels, and that the power of God may so accompany his words as to make them the means of converting thousands; and yet for want of duly searching into his own heart, he may suffer it to be overgrown with poisonous weeds, with tempers and inclinations, which if unsubdued, will absolutely shut _him out_ from the kingdom of glory, to which he is leading others. How easy for a man who is continually setting forth the glorious truths of the gospel, and inforcing holiness of heart and life, to imagine (for want of constant self-examination) that _he himself is_ what he preaches? This is a most dangerous snare; and therefore how absolutely necessary is that retirement which affords opportunity for a diligent search into the recesses of the heart, and gives the soul leisure to wait in awful silence before God, where, free from every object of sense, and from the workings of imagination, it may with all its faculties prostrate before the eternal Trinity, and feel itself to be nothing, and God to be _all in all_? But then it may be asked, shall not a man who with singleness of heart, spends and is spent for the service of God, be so kept by divine grace, that his soul shall suffer no loss by the want of retirement? Doubtless. Where _sincerity_ and _singleness_ of heart are preserved, that soul shall be defended as with a shield. But this I take to be the grand temptation of every minister of the gospel; he sets out perhaps (though this is not always the case) with a single view to the glory of God and the salvation of souls. The power of God accompanies his words, the hearts of the people fall under him. His reputation daily increases, till at last he becomes popular. He sees himself surrounded by a croud of people, who for the most part hear him as an angel of God, their thirsty souls gasping after the truths he utters. An innocent and an _holy_ joy fills his heart; “Here are souls that may be won to Christ, and that _by me_! Lord, what amazing love, that I who am the least of all thy servants should be thus blest!”――So far all is well, all is happy: but the subtil enemy of mankind so strongly impresses this, _by me_, that a self-complacency, separate from the glory of God, arises in his heart, and this, if not immediately quelled, leads him to the brink of a precipice. God still, for the sake of others, continues his usefulness; but every conversion which he is the means of making, is fresh food for his self-love; and by degrees he becomes so dead to the love of God, that he preaches even the purest doctrines of the gospel, with the same