The worst point, howsomever, of all is, what is done with the
prayers--and I have heard you say, that although there was nothing more
to objec to the wonderful Doctor Chammers of Glasgou, that his reading of
his sermons was testimony against him in the great controversy of sound
doctrine; but what will you say to reading of prayers, and no only
reading of prayers, but printed prayers, as if the contreet heart of the
sinner had no more to say to the Lord in the hour of fasting and
humiliation, than what a bishop can indite, and a book-seller make profit
o'. "Verily," as I may say, in a word of scripter, I doobt if the glad
tidings of salvation have yet been preeched in this land of London; but
the ministers have good stipends, and where the ground is well manured,
it may in time bring forth fruit meet for repentance.
There is another thing that behoves me to mention, and that is, that an
elder is not to be seen in the churches of London, which is a sore signal
that the piple are left to themselves; and in what state the morality can
be, you may guess with an eye of pity. But on the Sabbath nights, there
is such a going and coming, that it's more like a cried fair than the
Lord's night--all sorts of poor people, instead of meditating on their
bygane toil and misery of the week, making the Sunday their own day, as
if they had not a greater Master to serve on that day, than the earthly
man whom they served in the week-days. It is, howsomever, past the poor
of nature to tell you of the sinfulness of London; and you may we think
what is to be the end of all things, when I ashure you, that there is a
newspaper sold every Sabbath morning, and read by those that never look
at their Bibles. Our landlady asked us if we would take one; but I
thought the Doctor would have fired the house, and you know it is not a
small thing that kindles his passion. In short, London is not a place to
come to hear the tidings of salvation preeched,--no that I mean to deny
that there is not herine more than five righteous persons in it, and I
trust the cornal's hagent is one; for if he is not, we are undone, having
been obligated to take on already more than a hundred pounds of debt, to
the account of our living, and the legacy yet in the dead thraws. But as
I mean this for a spiritual letter, I will say no more about the root of
all evil, as it is called in the words of truth and holiness; so
referring you to what I have told Miss Mally Glencairn about the legacy
and other things nearest my heart, I remain, my dear Mrs. Glibbans, your
fellou Christian and sinner, JANET PRINGLE.