I am quite sick of modern religion–it is such a mixture, such a medley, such a compromise. I find much, indeed, of this religion in my own heart, for it suits the flesh well–but I would not have it so, and grieve it should be so.
The religion which I want is that of the Holy Spirit.
I know nothing but what He teaches me,
and feel nothing but what He works in me.
I believe nothing but what He shows me,
and only mourn when He smites my rocky heart.
I only rejoice when He reveals the Savior.
This religion I am seeking after, though miles and miles from it–but no other will satisfy or content me.
When the blessed Spirit is not at work in me, and with me–I fall back into all the . . .
of my Adam nature.
True religion is a supernatural and mysterious thing!
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