August 1802 – September 1803

Swansea, August 9, 1802.

DEAR SARGENT: You see by the date of my letter, that I have almost reached the end of my long pilgrimage. Our first resting-place was Wenlock in Shropshire, from whence we went on the Sunday to Madeley church. You must have heard of Mr. Fletcher, who was formerly Vicar of this place. We were introduced to Mrs. F.

Thus have I been preserved by the protecting providence of God. I have never once wished for a companion; even in the most gloomy moments I have found the Bible a never-failing source of interesting thought.

1803. JAN. 8 — 11. Often gave way to levity and arrogance in conversation, and was frequently assaulted by temptations to cowardly desires of the world: but, as God never suffered them to be of long continuance, my mind enjoyed considerable peace.

ST. JOHN’S, Jan. 17, 1803.

MY DEAR SARGENT: I find from that you really expect me to fulfil a promise I never made. However, as you allow me to send you even a skeleton of a letter, I sit down resolved to avail myself of the permission, if I find it necessary. * * * G — and H — seem to disapprove of my project much; and on this account I have been rather discouraged of late, though not in any degree convinced. It would be more satisfactory to go out with the full approbation of my friends, but it is in vain to attempt to please man. In doubtful cases, we are to use the opinions of others no further than as means of directing our own judgment. My sister has also objected to it, on the score of my deficiency in that deep and solid experience necessary in a missionary. You have taken rooms, I think, in the Temple, so that the providence of God seems to have called you irrevocably to the profession of the law. Though I cannot help regretting that one so well qualified to preach the glad tidings of salvation should be called off to labor in the business of this world, yet we may be sure, that whatever is undertaken according to his will, will be attended with his blessing. You will, I dare say, find a double degree of watchfulness necessary to preserve a proper state of mind. In the case of those who minister in the sanctuary, temporal and spiritual occupations are one; corresponding to the necessity of a superior degree of holiness in those who are to be examples. But in your case, even a common degree of spirituality can not be maintained without much attention. Many have found, that occasional aspirations after God have been made the channels of the communications of his grace in the midst of worldly business, and have left the mind not disqualified for the employments of heaven. Indeed, this seems to be a good criterion of our state. For surely the new-born soul never more truly acts according to its heavenly nature, than when it delights to shake off the clogs of earth, and to leave the world beneath it, and to rise exultingly to God. Though it is hard to be thus minded, yet it is undoubtedly our privi-

1803. J OF THE REV. HENRY MARTYtf. 9

lege. But nothing but almighty grace is sufficient for these tilings, as the coldness we all feel manifests.

JAN. 24. In my walk out, and during the remainder of the day, the sense of my own weakness and worthlessness called me to watchfulness and dependence upon the grace of

Christ. Lost much time at ’s in the evening, by joining

in trifling conversation. A little tract on eternity, and some of the book of Revelation, made a strong impression upon me this evening. Went to bed with a clear view of the infinite necessity of an ardent pursuit of holiness.

JAN. 25. Bore the pall at Parry’s funeral, but my heart

was cold and hard. With B in the evening, no one but

Foster being there. Ought I not to have introduced the subject of religion? How short-lived are right affections! WThat madness is it to be slothful in drawing nigh to the Lord!

JAN. 31. Had a kind of calmness, but little sweetness in divine things. I was vexed at finding I was not so forward in religion as my pride suggested. Oh the desperate wickedness of this heart! and yet the chief part lies concealed from my view.

FEB. 1. Wasted time in unnecessary sleep. After this I can never cheerfully either pray, or begin my daily employments. For want of reading the Scriptures, could not collect my thoughts in my walk.

FEE. 2. In a poor and lukewarm state this morning. Resolved to send away two of my pupils, as I found my time so much taken up by them of late, instead of being devoted to reading the Scriptures. May God enable me to give this redeemed time to him! N stayed with me, and discov ered to me, by his conversation, my infinite inferiority to him in divine experience, as well as exemplified in himself a truly humble and watchful spirit. Prayed with some little fervor to be like him and of course to be like the debased

Redeemer, whose unparalleled humiliation in Isaiah liii. I had been reading.

FEB. 4. Had some remains of that humbled spirit, the sweetness of which is satisfying-. But at breakfast “the old man” showed itself in contemptuous expressions towards others. Had something like poverty of spirit in hall. Endeavored to think of Job xiv. 14, and to have solemn thoughts of death, but could not find them before my pupil came, to whom I explained justification by faith, as he had ridiculed Methodism. But talk upon what I will, or with whom I will, conversation leaves me ruffled and discomposed. From what does this arise? From a want of the sense of God’s presence, when I am with others.

FEB. 6. Read the Scriptures, between breakfast and church, in a very wandering and unsettled manner, and in my walk was very weak in desires after God. As I found myself about the middle of the day full of pride and formality, I sought relief in prayer. Sat with II. and D. after dinner, till three, but though silent, was destitute of humility. Read some of S. Pearce’s life, and was much interested by his account of the workings of his mind on the subject of his mission. Saw reason to be thankful, that I had no such tender ties to confine me at home, as he seemed to have I almost dread to set apart any precise time for extraordinary devotions, lest it should be all thrown away through the weakness of my mind, which so soon flags in spiritual things. Oh how hard it is to live by faith — and impossible to abound in the work of the Lord without love! Yet love, which makes a heaven below, he has encouraged us to expect. 0 that I may learn now my utter helplessness without thee, and so by deep humiliation be qualified for greater usefulness!

FEB. 7. Had some disheartening thoughts at the prospect of being stripped of every earthly comfort. What true wisdom is resignation — yet how does my unbelief revolt against the dictates of reason! I feel little desire of preaching the gospel, and have some difficulty in conceiving the pleasure and anxiety expressed by most faithful ministers about their people, I find that in whatever manner the most holy ministers speak of their success, I am very apt to be disgusted at the prominent character of the instrument; and I record this, that at some future period I may derive ad vantage from it. 0 for humility! Love cannot exist with out gratitude — nor gratitude without humility. Much refreshed by reading the 91st Psalm.

I find that in my most serious moments I am, through mere habit, disposed to a cynic flippancy. Not quite pleased with that respect and attention shown me by my friends..

In the afternoon H came, and we resumed our exercises

of reading and prayer. I was by no means particular enough with respect to my own wants, or even of our com mon needs, in my prayer — but was too general in petition, as through want of use I had not the command of my thoughts. Some men coming in after our reading was over, I rather lost this little degree of spirituality by umvatchfulness. But upon the whole I have been comparatively happy to-day, and find my mind more active and energetic, than when I pass the whole day in reading.

FEB. 9. Read Greek Testament. From not seeing any allusion 10 infernal possessions anywhere but in the Gospels, and also from observing that “their own children would cast them out,” terrifying doubts arose about the truth of the whole; but through the mercy of God they were soon dissipated. But I determined to investigate the subject more thoroughly; an idle curiosity led me in the afternoon to the knowledge of something, which I had better not have known. In the evening several men by calling disturbed me — had, however, some little solemnity afterwards, — finished 1st book of Samuel, and read Psalms ii. — iv. But, O my soul! this is poor work! Condemned myself for not exerting myself in doing good to man by visiting the sick, Arc.

FEB. 10. Read Matthew xiii. and xiV. and by frequent supplications for grace, was preserved in a good degree from that pride and worldliness, which I have so often found to attend critical study. But in the afternoon this solemn tone of mind degenerated into formality and stupidity; and in the evening at tea with D. my unsteady conversation betrayed me into most excessive levity. Was of course little prepared for public worship. Yet during the latter part of it, and the sermon, I felt more serious, and returned home, ashamed of myself, and despising that vanity of spirit, which so separates me from the blessed God. Oh that I may more deeply mourn over that guilt, which I contract daily by so inconsistent a walk!

FEB. 11. Some difficulties about Algebra, which I thought it my duty to examine for the sake of my pupil, occupied the early part of the morning; and the 10th chapter of St. Matthew the rest. Spoke to T. about some things which I thought wrong in him; and felt great pain at my having done it without love. 0 why should I take upon myself to be a reprover, with so much to blame even in my outward conduct! Resolved not to reprove any more, except I experience at the time a peculiar contrition of spirit, in all cases where I can conscientiously be silent. Finding my throat sore; the recollection of sitting in the very room where P. died presented me with the view of death. I passed the greater part of the evening in self-examination and prayer; and reading the Psalms and Revelation as far as my illness permitted me. Though I could discover no allowed sin, yet my soul was agitated with alternate hopes and fears. The promisf-s were clear — as free, as full as the dying sinner could wish; yet, alas! I sought in vain for that sweetness of meditation on death, which I ought and wished to feel. Oh! for a more realizing faith, and the encouragements of hope and love! Oh that I could love indeed! I think I can say, that I have no other desire to live, but to live to his glory; but with fear and trembling should I say it, as I have a heart deceitful above all things. Do thou, my Saviour, support me through life and death; and I will fear no evil.

FEB. 15. Found great freedom in prayer this morning, yet when H. breakfasted with me, had no power to set my heart or tongue in tune for heaven. But for grace, this self-dependence would be my ruin.

FEB. 16. Was employed the greater part of the morning in sketching out a sermon on 1 Cor. xvi. 22. On preparing to go out, B. called upon me, and our conversation lasted till near dinner-time. He thought that by immoderate seclusion I deadened those fine feelings which we should cultivate, and neglected the active duties of life; that a thorough and universal change of heart and life was not necessary to make us Christians, of whom there might be all degrees, as of every thing else.

FEB. 18. As my walk was much in the town, I suffered a little distraction; but still thought myself strong.” He that

trusteth his own heart is a fool.” S. and came to me,

and I found myself sarcastic, and destitute of all Christian conversation, though without any particular sensation of pride and bitterness in my heart. But my self-ignorance is truly deplorable. How utterly forgetful have I been this day of the need of Christ’s grace, of my own vileness and poverty! Let me then remember, that all apparent joy in God without humility, is a mere delusion of Satan.

FEB. 19. - - drank tea with me in the evening, and for fear of my besetting sins, I set a bridle on my tongue. ., with his trifling- conversation, prolonged to a late hour, left me dissatisfied.

FEB. 20. Had, generally speaking, a full conviction of the supreme excellence of religion; of its being the one thing needful to my happiness; of the reasonableness of an entire devotedness to God; yet through levity and sloth, failed in deepening that acquaintance with the things of God, which has of late been very superficial.

MARCH 5 — 13. Much harassed with evil tempers, levity, and distraction of mind, all arising from want of sufficient reading of the Scriptures. Alas! I hardly ever meditate upon them! but only read without having my thoughts intently fixed.

MARCH 14 — 27. In general, dejected, though not so much from a sense of God’s displeasure, as from the sight of my own sinfulness, which eminently discovered itself, now I had so little power over my besetting sins, by discontent and want of love to man. A violent cold and cough led me to prepare myself for an inquiry into my views of death. I was enabled to rest composed on the Rock of Ages. 0 what mercy shown to the chief of sinners!

APRIL 2. Dined with Mr. Simeon, and met Mr. Atkinson of Leeds, with whose company I was exceedingly delighted. The conversation was truly such as became the children of God. The good old Mr. A. took occasion to address him self particularly to me, as I was in the outset, not to be discouraged, and told me I might profit by the experience of others, and avoid many of their difficulties by depending entirely on Christ. The tender pity of our Lord towards Jerusalem, even when he mentioned so many causes of indignation, was pressed to my mind strongly as an example. At tea, when Mr. Simeon talked of divine love, I thought I knew there was such a thing as communion of saints. I left them with great desires after the spirit of Christ, and after the privileges attending communion with God.

APRIL 12. For the last week I have had great want of spirituality, — carelessness, levity, and vanity of mind. It is a mercy that God, instead of giving me up to a reprobate mind, convinces me of the dreadful corruption of my heart. Last night I could not but tremble at the review of the thoughts which had successively passed through my mind in the course of the day, and which could not have been there, if I had been diligent in walking with God. My pres ent ground of complaint is my extreme ignorance of God and myself. His service, if any self-denial is required, is often a burden to me; and every consideration I can propose to my self, every prayer for a willing heart, are often ineffectual to make me love to do his will.

APRIL 22. Was ashamed to confess to that I was to

be Mr. Simeon’s curate; — a despicable fear of man, from which I vainly thought myself free. He, however, asked me if I was not to be, and so I was obliged to tell him. Jer. i. 17.

MAY 1. At church felt nothing so much as a want of seriousness. Vv7alked with till dinner, and talked for talking’s sake, for my head was 1 do not know where. Then

went to St. Mary’s, then walked with; this continued

employment with others on the Sabbath, fretted me exceedingly; yet when in solitude afterwards, I could neither pray nor read with earnestness; but labored the whole day under a careless indifference about all things equally.

MAY 6. Walked to Shelf ord. Unsettled in mind, and unhumbled in spirit most of the day. In the evening Mr. Thomason had a service which led me to think, as I was returning home, how very superficial my experience had been; so much so, that I should be at a loss to describe the real state of my soul. After my prayers, my mind seems touched

with humility and love, but the impressions decay so soon.

MAY 7. breakfasted with me, but I soon forgot the

grounds I had seen for humiliation but just before. Was harassed with contemptuous thoughts of the ministry, but prayed that the character in Timothy might be mine. In my morning walk felt miserable through the pride and unbelief of my heart. Yet before I had finished, perceived the reasonableness of meeting with people to converse about their spiritual state, from the similar process used to form a physician, who is not content to look at his own body only, but repairs to a hospital, and marks the different cases, and inquires of the patients themselves.

MAY 9 — 14. Some days in this week my faith has been strong. I have rejoiced to go forth, and to brave the world. It was accompanied with more simplicity of heart than I usually feel. On Saturday felt great fear of man, and yet was determined to let slip no proper occasion of speaking

out. Was quite fatigued with being so long with. On

expressing my dislike of such company to W., he suggested that it might perhaps arise rather from feeling than principle; and this witness is true, for though I could perceive them to be in the gall of bitterness, 1 felt little of pity.

MAY 31. Had some disquieting doubts, why I should not speak to every one I knew and met about their souls. From repeated experience I know that this arises from an unwillingness to take up my cross; for at those rare seasons, when I have any love to Christ, no difficulties lie then in the way.

JUNE 5. From reading some of Law’s Serious Call, perceived the vanity and meanness of the thoughts of the carnal heart, and longed to live far beyond the wrorld; and in the general course of this Sabbath was more free from those vain and self-esteeming thoughts, which keep me very low in the divine life.

1803. J OF THE REV. HENRY MARTYN. IT

JUNE 6. Rose at half after five, according to the impulse

I received from reading Law. Breakfasted with F, and

spoke in praise of humility, but was not humble. Was grieved that I had not been faithful to God at dinner-time, when the conversation seemed to call upon me to speak out.

JUNE 12. Rose in heaviness through sinful thoughts seizing me at time of waking, and continued so during the day through manifold temptations. After St. Mary’s in the after noon, walked with, and was exceedingly irritated and

hurried by conversation with him about religion. The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God. I felt grieved in my own mind, and troubled from the opposition of men, and I said, “Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I flee away, and be at rest. Lo, then would I wander afar off, and remain in the wilderness.”

JUNE 13 — 24. Passed in tolerable comfort upon the whole; though I could on no day say my walk had been close with God. Read Sir G. Staunton’s Embassy to China. I have still the spirit of worldly men, when I read worldly books. I felt more curiosity about the manners of this people, than love and pity towards their souls. Sargent warns mo to self-examination. His lively devotion in the midst of such snares may well shame me. May the Lord make him to be an example to us all!

JUNE 25. I experience a want of variety in prayer, and am unable to pray with my whole heart and soul, as I observed in the morning. Lost the morning in endeavoring to construct some paper figures on dialing. Attacked with strong temptations in my walk, but through grace overcame them, although with pain, by recalling to mind the promises in the three first chapters of Revelation, “to him that overcometh,” &c. Thought besides, has God commanded me to use self-denial merely to give me pain, and not rather to per-Sect my happiness? Was seized with excessive hilarity in company with H in the afternoon, which rendered me

unfit for serious conversation, though II seemed inclined

to it. This is frequently the case, especially after severe study either of temporal or spiritual kind. It seems merely animal, for I would gladly exchange it for sympathy, so that my heart might be tender and pathetic without the pain of grief. Walked to the hawthorn hedge, and on my way felt the force of Baxter’s observation, in his directions for solemnity in the work of meditation, — that if an angel had appointed to meet me, how full of awe I should be, — how much more then when I was about to meet God. As this was my first set attempt for a long time, I found it necessary to know the state of my own heart, in which I could find no wilful neglect, but most lamentable ignorance and pride. I commended myself to his mercy, and prayed for the guidance of the Spirit of Christ, but experienced no true joy. I devoted myself to him solemnly, and trust that, when tempted to sin, I shall remember this walk.

ST. JOHN’S, June 30, 1803.

DEAR SARGENT: *

I feel ashamed that you

express any satisfaction in corresponding with me. God only knows how poor and shallow I am; and if any good should ever arise to you by my means, it must be ascribed to his wisdom, who can use the meanest instruments to effect his purposes. What shall I say to him for giving me such a friend as you are likely to prove! One who fears not to give offence by speaking the truth, and who would seek to improve the Spirit, rather than please the flesh. * * May you, as long as you

shall give me your acquaintance, direct me to the casting down of all high imaginations! Possibly it may be a cross to you to tell me or any one of his faults. But should I be at last a cast-away, or at least dishonor Christ through some sin, which for want of faithful admonition remains unmortU fied, how bitter would be your reflections! I conjure you therefore, my dear friend, as you value the good of the souls to whom I am to preach, and my own eternal interests, that you tell me what you think to be, in my life, spirit, or temper, not according to the will of God my Saviour. You profess your need of humiliation. I wish my own experience could assist you in this the most important part of our sanctification. In examining myself according to your advice, on this head, it seems (for the work of inquiry is so exceedingly difficult, that I can hardly say with certainty what I have known, or whether I have known anything on this subject) that I seek humility rather from views of God’s greatness and the example of Christ, than of my own corruption. Now, though the former views may assist in producing the effect, yet the impressions arising from them are necessarily transient; whereas that humility which arises from just views of ourselves may be as abiding as our own consciousness, and be brought into exercise by everything we do, or speak, or think. It has greatly distressed me to think, how slow my heart is to yield to the convictions of reason; how unable to mourn, when I should be lying low in the dust. On reading the words of our Lord to the lukewarm Laodiceans, the form of the words is very striking and comforting. “Because thou knowest not that thou art wretched, &c., I counsel thee to buy of me eye-salve, that thou mayest see,” so that there is provision made for those, whom of all others God holds most in abhorrence; the blind, (to their sins,) the hard-hearted, and the proud. Were it not so, what would become of me? Happily for us, “the covenant is ordered in all things, and sure;” and it is not left to our own wisdom, but to that adorable agent, the Spirit of God, to perform that good work which he hath begun in us. May we be both conformed to the bright image of the dear Redeemer, especially in meekness and lowliness of heart! I feel for you, lest by a fatal comparison with those around you, you should be induced to lower the standard of Christian morality in your own practice. This is a temptation, to which I am prone even here. But let us remember, that God judge th according to every man’s work, and not relatively. He marks his secret walk, and his view of him is precisely the same, whatever be the change of the opinions of the man of himself, or of others concerning him. Let us then walk in the Spirit — * * D. has heard about a religious young man of seventeen, who wants to come to College, but has only £20 a year. He is very clever, and from the perusal of some poems which he has published, I am much interested about him. His name is H. K. White.

We remembered our friend

Sargent at our prayer at Mr. Simeon’s room on Thursday evening. Pray that I may have true piety and fitness for my work.

Your’s ever,

HENRY MABTYN.

JULY 10. Great ignorance of my own heart, pride, censoriousness, and discontent have beset me for some time. A letter from Sargent recommending diligent self-examination, taught me how little I had been used to look within, and I was somewhat humbled at not knowing how to describe my own state. I was much dejected at finding myself so low in Christianity, which sufficiently showed the truth of what had been said. Resolved, however, this week, to be earnest and searching in examining myself, and to be lying low in the dust before God. I ought to have my heart impressed with a sense of my weakness, misery, and sin.

JULY 17. Rose at half-past five, and walked a little before chapel in a happy frame of mind; but the sunshine was presently overcast by my carelessly neglecting to speak for the good of two men, when I had an opportunity. The pain was moreover increased by the prospect of the incessant watchfulness for opportunities I should use; nevertheless resolved that I would do so through grace. The dreadful act of disobeying God, and the baseness of being unwilling to incur the contempt of men, for the sake of the Lord Jesus, who had done so much for me, and the cruelty of not longing to save souls, were the considerations that pressed on my mind.

JULY 18 — 30. Gained no ground in all this time; was much distracted and unsettled for want of solitude. Felt the passion of envy rankle in my bosom on a certain occasion. Seldom enjoyed peace, but was much under the power of corruption.

JULY 30. Was so relaxed as to be incapable of any exertion of body or mind. It then appeared to me, that if I could not read, that was the time for visiting, but 1 sought to find some excuse for not going. Oh, the dreadful consequence of not obeying conscience. After some consideration, however, I determined to do the will of God without shrinking from the self-denial. Wrote to recreate myself, and then it was chapel-time. Afterwards meant to go to

visit, but I suffered a trifling consideration to keep me

away. At night a terrible thunder-storm came on. Instead of enjoying the solemn scene in sweet security, my heart was conscious of not having walked with God, and gloomy fear prevailed.

AUG. 1. Under great darkness and discontent, which continued through great part of the day, as I had no opportunity of reading. In the evening found some degree of peace in returning to the Lord. But all the graces of the Spirit are very low. Imperfect views of Christ. No realizing of heaven or eternal things, no happy walk with God.

AUG. 20. Time taken up from half-past ten till two, in drilling the fellows and pupils. In the afternoon, remembered in prayer the reasons I had yesterday seen for activity in the work of the ministry, so far as it belonged to me. But though one’s reason cannot but see how good it must be to be employed about that church, which He hath purchased with his own blood; yet how perverse is the will! It appeared to-day, when it was even in a better frame than commonly, to be very far removed from that pleasure and cheerfulness, with which the children of God do their works of love. No, instead of having my will swallowed up in God’s, instead of hearkening to the voice of his word, instead of placing the happiness and joy of my soul in a constant imitating of the Lord Jesus Christ, in going about doing good; it is my will rather to sit down, to please myself with reading, and let the world perish. I see a great work before me now, namely, the subduing and mortifying of my perverted will. What am I, that I should dare to do my own will, even if I were not a sinner? but now how plain, how reasonable to have the love of Christ constraining me to be his faithful, willing servant, cheerfully taking up the cross that he shall appoint me!

AUG. 30. Was greatly distressed at not having spoken to an old man with whom I might have conversed, and again for not joining some gownsmen, to whom I might have done good, and for having attempted to begin a religious conversation with in a most unreasonable and uncharitable

manner. My conscience was painfully wounded, as if by unfaithfulness to God, and my spirits depressed at the prospect of being much with men, and having to speak to them in spite of their contempt and hatred. Nevertheless, resolved to do the will of God, whatever it might be.

SEPT. 4. (Sunday.) Heard in the evening with great

satisfaction. Returned home wearied with religious language, and found that not even prayer was profitable, with out having my mind stocked with ideas, and impressed with

awful thoughts of God. Heard on” Simon, son of

Jonas, lovest thou me?” The having the Saviour uppermost in my thoughts, and speaking of him with delight and love, would be a severe criterion to me. Oh, what a hard ungrateful heart must I have, to requite the tender love of Christ in the way I do!

SEPT. 7. Under great anxiety all the morning, in the prospect of the service I had promised to do in the evening. After praying at noon, found myself somewhat more disposed to labor for the good of the souls of others; though the clouds of sin, which hide from my view the excellences of active godliness, gathered again, and the pain and trouble of a perverse and slothful heart. I want greater deadness to the world; for I believe that my aversion to officiate in public, and at social meetings, arises more from a concern about the opinion of men, than from the actual trouble of it. A want of self-recollection on those occasions, which has led me to speak in prayer without thinking, makes me also shrink from it.

SEPT. 9. Walked to L alone. My mind was cheerful

and composed on the road at first, but found an emptiness of thought afterwards, for want of reading. Endeavored to fix my thoughts on the subject of the use of imagination in religion. Was rather dispirited through fear of growing cold, as I advanced in life, through the decay of this inventive faculty. But I could not so much as define imagination. I fear my mind is in a very uncultivated state, as it respects composition and exertion of thought; but I have not yet seen it my duty to alter the nature of my present studies. I chiefly want more deadness to the world, and indifference to the opinions of men.

SEPT. 10. Was most deeply affected with reading the account of the apostacy of Lewis and Broomhall, in the transactions of the Missionary Society. When I first came to the account of the awful death of the former, I cannot describe the sense I had of the reality of religion, — that there is a God who testifies his hatred of sin; “my flesh trembled for fear of his judgments.” Afterwards coming to the account of Broomhall’s sudden turn to Deism, I could not help even bursting into tears of anxiety and terror at my own extreme danger; because I have often thought, that if I ever should make shipwreck, it would be on the rocks of sensuality or infidelity. The hollowness of Broomhall’s arguments was so apparent, that I could only attribute his fall to the neglect of inquiring after the rational foundation of his faith.

In making this journal, I pretend not to record all that I remember; and that, not on account of its minuteness — for nothing is strictly so — but because in some cases it would be improper to commit it to paper. I desire to collect the habit of my mind, to discover my besetting sins, the occasion of calling them forth, and the considerations by which I have at any time been stirred up to duty. May God in his mercy save me from the delusions of my deceitful heart, and pardon the indifference with which I speak and think of sin, and of this record, which may be of everlasting importance to my soul!

SEPT. 12. I read some of the Missionary accounts. The account of their sufferings and diligence could not but tend to lower my notions of myself. I was almost ashamed at my have ing such comforts about me, and at my own unprofitableness.

SEPT. 13. My want of Christian experience filled me with many disquieting doubts. “I am not only not so holy as I ought, but I do not strive to have my soul wrought up to the highest pitch of devotion every moment. But now if my salvation rested upon the covenant of works, I should thus strive. It follows, therefore, that I am making grace an occasion of sin.” To another person making this objection, I should answer, that those who have fled to Jesus in the sense of their own sinfulness and helplessness, are delivered from the law as a covenant of works, and receive it only as a rule of life. But how shall we know when we make it a rule of life?

SEPT. 14. By a watchful endeavor to preserve proper thoughts of my own meanness, and of the love of Christ, during my reading, my mind was more spiritual, and more able to commune with God. When afterwards in company with C. was continually falling into levities, which my conscience condemned.

SEPT, 15. My spirit seemed to be still given to prayer, and I found the benefit of it, when I walked at twelve with

, and I was more composed than I usually am before a

man to whom I am obliged to speak unwillingly about religion.

SEPT. IV. Assailed by proud, unbelieving, discontented thoughts again to-day, but was not long under the power of them. Read Dr. Vanderkemp’s mission to CafFraria. What a man! In heaven I shall think myself well off, if I obtain but the lowest seat among such, though now I am fond of giving myself a high one.

SEPT. 18. Prayed with some fervor for assistance in mortification, as I find myself little disposed to keep my body under. But afterwards gave way to many despicable vanities about my appearance, which soon spread darkness over my heart. At Mr. Simeon’s, when he delivered his text from John xvii. 9, 10, I felt ashamed and provoked at my folly, now that I was about to lose the enjoyment I should otherwise have had from this subject, from the pain my sins had caused. After dinner read Hebrews xii. and xiii. and was in a composed frame throughout the remainder of the day. Many vanities sprung up imperceptibly at chapel, and again I omitted an opportunity of speaking for the good of others. My sins are more in number than the hairs of my head; well might I doubt the possibility of being sanctified and saved, wore not that to make things worse. Mr. Simeon preached in the evening a most convincing sermon on Mark ii. 17. I could not but feel my need of a physician, such as Jesus; and also the folly of unbelief; nevertheless my sins pressed heavily on my heart.

SEPT. 19. Breakfasted with C, and was much too

conformed to my old behavior of levity and arrogance.

drank tea with me in the evening; my hope of him has be come more sanguine. May his will be thoroughly subdued

to the obedience of faith! With to-day, but seemed

fearful of pressing home the humbling truths of the gospel, though he receives all I say with candor.

SEPT. 22. Two men from Clare Hull breakfasted with me. A fear of man, which prevented me from saying grace before breakfast, brought me into inexpressible confusion of conscience. Recovered a little by saying it after. How foolish am I, and ignorant, and cowardly, to be afraid to worship the Lord of Hosts before his rebellious creatures! WTalked with B. and discovered great selfishness and want of charity. Fear of man again at table to-day, not by my silence, for that was unavoidable, but by look and manner. My heart condemned me, but not at the time. But the Lord is great er than our hearts, he knoweth all things He brought it to my mind afterwards, so that I could not but appear to my self exceedingly vile and contemptible.

SEPT. 23. I was under disquiet at the prospect of my future work abroad, encompassed with difficulties; but I trusted that I was under the guidance of infinite wisdom, and on that I could rest. I was led to a calm and melancholy reflection on the vanity of the world, the mighty power of God, the mystery of our existence, and in prayer afterwards I drew nigh to God.

SEPT. 24. In a gloomy temper, from being vainly concerned about the appearance of the body. It is enough to astonish and distress me, that in spite of my convictions of the perfect nothingness of this world, of the opinion of men, and above all, of the insignificancy of bodily appearance, I should still feel any concern about the appearance of my person. This is Mr. Simeon’s birth- day. He said he could thank God for his creation, though so little had been done by him these forty-four years. May I have done as much in the same time.

SEPT. 25. Had a sweet meditation in the garden, but

much vanity of mind in the course of the day. drank

tea with me, but the world seemed uppermost in his thoughts. I ought to be more close in my dealing with the consciences of those to whom I can speak on religion.

SEPT. 27. Designed to visit Mrs. S. but through delay and fear of my frame being unsuitable, I did not go, and so brought pain to my conscience, which was a proof that it was not in my heart to go; for if it were pleasant to go, I should not be easily satisfied with the excuses for not going.

SEPT. 28. It appeared this morning, as if I had been long absent from God. It is of his mercy that he restoreth my soul, and leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Read Zechariah with Lowth. As I had fixed on two places to visit this evening, the prospect of it made me unhappy this morning. But in my walk out, I felt ashamed at having demurred at such a blessed work, as comforting the afflicted and instructing the ignorant, especially when hundreds of God’s people, especially his ministers, are doing it with infinite pains and satisfaction in all parts of the globe. I perceived that the reason of my unwillingness to pray with others, arose not from anything else than a vain desire of the esteem of men. For were I dead to the world and the opinions of it, I should speak in prayer with composure, and have the testimony of a good conscience. Whereas the remembrance of the pain succeeding hypocritical prayers, diffuses the bitterness of gall over the day, before the duty is done. Alas! I have much unmortified pride to subdue yet. When shall I live with my thoughts wrapped up in God and heaven, and crucified to the world? I think sometimes, that if I could find the work of God in this particular, (praying with the sick or others,) a delight, nothing would prevent my enjoying the full earnest of heaven. But this I shall hereafter find to be vain. What but the humbling influence of the Spirit, showing me my vileness and desperate wickedness, can ever produce such an habitual temper? I thought at dinner, with what awful and deep submission should I work the work of God, were I to see some marvellous manifestation of his glory in providence, or if my own death were fixed for to day! 0 Lord, let me glorify thee in the faithful view of thy worthiness, of thy design in commanding the cross, and with gratitude for being spared I

found it in my heart to pour forth my soul to God. I was constrained to praise God for his mercy. Admire, my soul! the displayed perfections, the transacted works, the fulfilled promises of the Most High. Let me believe his mighty works, and sing his praise.

SEPT. 29. A nervous headache prevented my reading: so I passed the morning in the open air, striving to fix my thoughts on John iv. 10, on which I wished to write a sermon. I could not make out much, though the thought of the living water brought me into a calm and peaceful frame. But before I got home, many an evil thought possessed my mind.

Mr. Simeon’s sermon in the evening, on 2 Chron. xxxii. 31, discovered to me my corruption and vileness, more than any sermon I have ever heard. If David, who had so closely walked with God, fell into the most foul and filthy abominations, what must my danger be who walk so unstably! Lord, save thy servant from presumptuous sins, that they have not dominion over me. Hezekiah’s sin was vanity. Instead of directing the ambassadors who came to inquire about the phenomenon, to the knowledge of Jehovah, who had set the sun in the firmament, he thought only of gratifying his pride, by showing them his treasures, &c. How many times have I fallen into this sin? And had God left me every time, to show me what was in my heart? And did I fall into it again and again, without learning it! Oh, the riches of his patience and long- suffering!