July 1804 – October 1804

Jtly 1. (Sunday.) Walked a little before morning prayer, and found by my wanderings and discontent, in how great a degree prayer had effected that sweet enjoyment of divine things 1 have often felt in passing through the walks just after its exercise. At church enjoyed some deadness to the world, but at the receiving of the sacrament my heart was hard and insensible. I seemed to have a heart of adamant, and full of pride and earthly thoughts. Heard Dr. P. preach for two hours; his profusion of Greek and Latin quotations excited my mirth, when his unprofitableness ought to have raised very different emotions in me. After church at night walked in the Fellows’ garden with four friends; our conversation was tolerably spiritual, but my heart was swelling fast with pride and love of the world, and fear of losing the good opinion of those who love and honor me. But I know my refuge. God is able to humble me, and to make me die to everything but himself. In prayer at night God either showed me myself, or else Satan tempted me to his own sin. My thoughts were those of cool deliberate pride, there was no sudden repugnance to the divine will through the love of the flesh, but a sort of calm rejection of the authority of God, and of the necessity of humiliation before him. In the utmost agony of soul I sometimes hurried to the thoughts of my being a creature; sometimes to my having been saved through mercy from I was afraid to leave off praying in this frame, lost I should sink down to dwell with the devil and his angels, whose spirit of rebellion I seemed precisely to have obtained. Went to bed commending my soul earnestly to Christ.

JULY 2. After an hour spent in prayer the Lord mercifully assisted me, and the sense of my danger and blasphemous impiety melted me into tears. I now hoped that in answer to my prayers, I should now and ever take my place among the most worthless of the creatures of God, and feel among my brethren, as one who was not worthy to be trodden under foot: but through the day, was unhappy from the real actings of unbelief. I was afraid, or suspected that the same atheistical thoughts were still in my head, and I dreaded to examine it; and I thought also that God’s anger was kindled, and he was departing from me. On my return from my walk, read some of the Old Testament with the hope of seeing my own insignificance, and God’s greatness and power; then prayed, and put up some strong cries for help and faith, in which I was greatly encouraged, by considering that there was no one else who would or could do me any good, but God, with whom I was alone.

JULY 3. My thoughts this morning were rather of a different kind, lest I should be carried away by the vanities of a public day. In the senate-house, where I was created M.A., I was not in general forgetful of my soul, though I caught myself repeatedly in trains of vain thoughts; was empty and tired for want of being alone; attended a society where Mr. Simeon lectured on the words, “a plant of renown;” towards the last, I found some returning admiration and affection for the Lord Jesus Christ, but the momentary sunshine was overcast materially by clouds of unbelief. The dreadful pride of my heart, as it was discovered to me on Sunday night, has made me almost desperate. I know not what to do. I am afraid of never coming to God or Christ with the humility of a creature. The only thing that revives my heart, is the thought of the possibility of becoming the meanest creature of God serving him; and I declare, that were all the glory my imagination could invent offered to me, with my present proud heart, I would not, I could not take it; nay, on the contrary, so miserable would it make me, by increasing my pride and rebellion against God, that rather than have it, I would prefer being blotted out of existence for ever. And this I say, not from any deep conviction of the propriety of such submission, but only from feeling what is my real happiness. And now I think I have stated my case.

* * It is all in vain, that I remember myself to be created out of the dust, that I know nothing of natural things, that I can neither do, say, or think anything, except by his permission. Yet all are in vain to bring me down. I pray as usual, yet cursed unbelief and pride send me away without a blessing. Nevertheless, now for the shield of faith to quench these fiery darts of the devil. At present my desires after humiliation are intensely strong; I do not know why; but if this satanic spirit remain, the cloud may spread over these desires also, and then all is over. I therefore commend my soul to Christ; with great difficulty, forcing my way through the crowd of opposing enemies within, and I think also Satan without: it is the peculiar dreadfulness of these thoughts, that they dishonor the Saviour, and deny his authority, and tear me away from my best and only friend. Yet they shall not, if Christ give me grace to stand firm. Be strong, my soul, why art thou afraid? This is the very time to show the strength of faith. I will even, against hope, believe in hope. JULY 4. To-day I would hope that the Lord hath heard my prayer, in delivering me from spiritual pride, for ] have had no returns of it in the. same distracting degree. Walked to Shelford, where the time passed not without religious conversation, but my mind was carnal for want of reading and prayer.

JULY 5. Employed in making calls, <fec. By much converse with men, even on religious subjects, my thoughts are not refreshed from heaven. Last night in prayer, in recollection of my unprofitableness and waste of time, I found my soul drawn out in strong desires to live a life of entire devotedness and prayer; yet here is another day spent in like manner; nothing done, and my thoughts scattered. How I long to bury myself in the country!

JULY 6. The sudden appearance of evil thoughts made me very unhappy, but -I found refuge in God. 0 may the Lord receive my wandering heart, and make me to find in himself, the source and centre of beauty, a sweet and satisfied delight! O what sublime, what rapturous views of God and divine things might I enjoy with a little more watchfulness! For a moment my mind seems about to be filled, and all its faculties absorbed; but the spirit passes on, and I am lost in dulness.

JULY 7. Extremely dull and cold in prayer, very principally for want of scripture reading and meditation. Yet through humiliation on account of it, I passed the rest of the morning in the sense of God’s presence, and with tolerable diligence. Read Acts xx. 0 that I may be, as I desire to be, dead to the world, and have my thoughts taken up with Christ and his service! How repeatedly has this blessed chapter made me feel the vanity of the world!

JULYS. (Sunday.) Watchful against wandering, but my heart was not engaged. Rode home from Lolworth in a great storm of rain. I had grand views of God, and felt no doubt but that I should be received, were I to be taken from this world; but I felt that my only hope was in Christ, for not one thought, word, or work of mine, was without sin. In the evening service, I enjoyed great delight in God at times, and a desire to be his. The most satisfying feeling at those times is the worthiness of God and Christ.

JULY 9. Set out on my journey in greater recollection of mind than ever heretofore; on the road the contemplation of myself showed me the workings of vanity. Called on Mr. Grant, who told me that he had little doubt that there would be a chaplainship vacant before the close of next spring sea son. The dejection in which Mr. Grant’s answer left me, drew me nearer to God in prayer. My determination to go out, with God’s direction, did not seem at all shaken by the difficulties I foresaw.

JULY 10. Dined with Mr. Wilberforce at Palace Yard. It was very agreeable, as there was no one else. Speaking of the slave-trade, I mentioned the words, “Shall I not visit for these things?” and found my heart so affected, that I could with difficulty refrain from tears. Went with Mr. W. to the House of Commons, where I was surprised and charmed with Mr. Pitt’s eloquence. Ah, thought I, if these powers of oratory were now employed in recommending the Gospel — but as it is, he talks with great seriousness and energy about that which is of no consequence at all. At night met with

,who used the name of God in profane swearing. I

gave him no reprimand, except slightly towards the last, in consequence of which, at night, I found my conscience exceedingly grieved, and saw myself vile, as one who had denied Christ before men.

JULY 11. Left London for Bath. I was on the top of the coach, and the wind blew exceedingly cold. I was unable to turn away my mind from the complaints of the body, but continued peevish and discontented, except at one or two intervals, when I forced my thoughts away. Alas! these are the very occasions, when I should exercise myself, in living by faith. I was then most dreadfully assailed by evil thoughts; but at the very height, prayer availed, and I was delivered; and during the rest of my journey, enjoyed great peace, and a strong desire to live for Christ alone.

JULY 12 — 19. On the 16th reached Truro, and went immediately to Laraorran. 18th, walked to Truro, found some opportunity of speaking to a poor young woman, who had given up a profession of religion. 19th, sat in a wood for two hours, thinking on Isaiah Iv. 1 — 3, on which I meant to preach. In the house afterwards, and in prayer, in which I engaged with a great conviction of my having backslidden, I found my soul filled with seriousness and solemnity before God.

JULY 20. I found myself unable to introduce any conversation, as my heart was not close to God, nor touched with love to God.

JULY 21. Had a very interesting conversation with my

dear. In my walk to Truro was tempted to great pride;

but my uneasiness under every access of glory to myself, makes me earnest in general to give it to the Lord, to whom alone it belongs.

JULY 22. Walked to Kenwyn with, who I rejoice to

find has not forgot the religious impressions of his youth. I preached there on 1 Tim. i. 15, to a congregation not large, but consisting of my acquaintance almost entirely, people who are in the habit of hearing truth. I heard the commendations of several, during the course of the evening, which gave me some uneasiness, by fanning the flame of vanity. Visited some sick people after tea, with one of whom my soul was much drawn out in prayer. But no outward duties leave me in a humble spiritual state of themselves; often on the contrary they flurry me, and fill my heart with pride.

JULY 23. At night walked through the woods to.

How wretched to be in a house where there is a general disregard to religion! Though I am unworthy, through my carnal-mindedness, to be of the household of faith, and to be a fellow-citizen with the saints, yet it would be perfect misery to me to live with such people as I meet with, ignorant of God, and lovers of the world.

JULY 24, S walked a little way with me towards

Truro. I told her gently of her not adorning the doctrine of God, by a cheerful and contented temper. She was in tears at the thought of her inward corruption as she said. I went on my way fearful 1 had not been tender enough in my

behaviour or my thoughts. Dined at ’s. Conversation

as usual utterly insipid. That something might be said, I conformed too much in levity to the rest. I find it far more difficult to preserve a devout and serious frame amongst my friends here, among whom I have always hitherto appeared a gay young man, than in Cambridge. I fear there is a very great deal of dissimulation in my profession.

JULY 28. Rode to St. Hilary, with my mind all the way thinking on nothing, thus giving the tempter an occasion against me.

JULY 29. (Sunday.) At St. Hilary church in the morning, my thoughts wandered from the service, and I suffered the keenest disappointment. Miss L — — G — — did not come. Yet in great pain, I blessed God for having kept her away, as she might have been a snare to me. These things would be almost incredible to another, and almost to myself, were I not taught by daily experience, that whatever the world may say, or I may think of myself, I am a poor, wretched, sinful, contemptible worm.

Called after tea on Miss L G ,* and walked with

her and, conversing on spiritual subjects. All the rest

of the evening and at night I could not keep her out of my mind. I felt too plainly that I loved her passionately. The direct opposition of this to my devotedness to God in the

* Miss Lydia Grenfell.

missionary way, excited no small tumult in my mind. In conversation, having no divine sweetness or peace, my cheerfulness was affected, and consequently very hurtful to my conscience. At night I continued an hour and a half in prayer, striving against this attachment. I read the most solemn parts of Scripture, to realize to myself death and eternity, and these attempts were sometimes blest. One while I was about to triumph, but in a moment my heart had wandered to the beloved idol! I went to bed in great pain, yet still rather superior to the enemy.

JULY 30. Rose in great peace. God, by secret influence, seemed to have caused the tempest of self-will to subside. Rode away from St. Hilary to Gwennap in peace of mind, and meditated most of the way on Rom. viii. I again devoted myself to the Lord, and with more of my will than last night. I was much disposed to think of subjects entirely placed beyond the world, and had strong desires, though with heavy opposition from my corrupt nature, after that entire deadness to this world, which David Brainerd manifested. At night I found myself to have backslidden a long way from the life of godliness, to have declined very much since rny coming into Cornwall, but especially since I went to St. Hilary.

JULY 31. Read and prayed this morning with increasing victory over my self-will. The 7th of Romans was particularly suitable; it was agreeable to me to speak to God of my own corruption and helplessness. Walked in the after noon to Redruth, after having prayed over the Epistle to the Ephesians with much seriousness. On the road I was enabled to triumph at last, and found my heart as pleased with the prospect of a single life in missionary labors as ever. What is the exceeding greatness of his power to usward who believe!

AUG. 5. Walked in great peace to St. Michael’s, and preached there on John iv. 10; my two sisters heard me for the first time. I labored greatly with an empty unsettled mind, but latterly my spirit rose again to heaven, and enjoyed (rreat deadness to the world, and clear views of the work

&

which lay before me in this world, and of my passage into eternity.

LAMORRAN, August 6, 1804.

MY DEAR SARGENT,

* * * * * * *

How can I sufficiently adore the singular benefits of God to my family! we are now brothers and sisters for eternity. How cheerfully can I now go forth to proclaim the glories of

him who hath done so much for us.

*******

Respecting your approaching union with that excellent lady, I have nothing to add at present, but that you have my prayers, both of you; and particularly does it seem to me a necessary petition that you may not in your mutual affection forget the Saviour. May he himself show us the vanity of the enjoyments of this world; and instead of pleasing ourselves with the prospect of a happy continuance in it, let us contemplate with greater satisfaction the moment

of our departure from it. *

* ’ * * *

AUG. 7. Continued seven hours in the wood this morning. In prayer my soul was convinced of its trifling unconcern about souls, and was stirred up to pray for a serious earnestness, which the Lord imparted to me in some measure. I wrote with my mind solemnized. In the evening read Jon. Edwards on “Original Sin;” one mark was a want of love to God; how deeply do I bear this mark engraved in my nature. In prayer at night I was made to feel a little more love to the blessed God.

AUG. 8. Walked with Tressilian to Lamorran, with my mind unsettled at first, but in complaining of the deadness of my heart, and asking to be shown something for which my love to God might be kindled, my heart was raised, doubtless by the Spirit, to great admiration and love to God, without having in view any of his particular benefits, and the prominent feature of this affection in my mind at the time, was an unwillingness so much as to think anything that might offend him.

AUG. 12. Went by water to Philleigh, where I preached;

dined with Mr. B; finding no opportunity of talking on

religious subjects, I conformed to their worldly manner and conversation so much, that in the afternoon, going to church, I found my conscience dreadfully grieved, and did not recover from an unbelieving sense of guilt till I went away from them; but I confessed my iniquity to the Lord, and found returning peace. On the water, and in the wood, as I returned, my heart was humbled and tender.

AUG. 16. Rode to Truro with C, unable to bring him

to any useful conversation. Dined at — — ’s, who used every argument to dissuade me from going to India, some not without weight, expressing withal great regard for me. In

the evening called on the two ’s, sent, I think, by their

Lord to them, for they were in great want and dejection that none visited them.

AUG. 17. Rode to Lanivet with great deadness, except when I read the word of God. 0 how I blessed that precious book for quickening me to conformity to saints and holy angels, although of a better world. After tea, with - I found, to my surprise and grief, his mind tinctured with infidelity. I was enabled to answer his arguments clearly, from Butler and Jonathan Edwards.

AUG. 18. Morning passed in reading Homer and Mathematics with, for I could get him to speak on no other subjects. In our walk we touched again on the subject of religion; it was my chief endeavor to point out the necessity of prayer for illumination, even if he believed in natural religion only; also of a determination of acting up to the light he should receive, and conforming his life to the gospel, Also of inquiring with the humility of a creature.

AUG. 19. Though I lay down in a temper of poverty of spirit, my first thoughts, seized by the concerns of time and sense, led me to a proud and discontented temper; but prayer brought me to a better spirit. The church at Kenwyn was quite full, many outside, and many obliged to go away. I prayed and delivered my sermon with composure

and earnestness, on 2 Cor. v. 20, 21. Walked with,

and tried, I am afraid to no purpose, to turn his wavering mind to religion. Felt chagrined in the evening at not hearing my sermon praised. Wretched creature, full of sin and ignorance; the less reason I have to be proud, the more eagerly do I court applause. 0 the blessedness of living unknown. But my soul is encouraged, and I feel the want of heavenly abstraction from sin and the world, and the certainty that 1 may receive it from above.

AUG. 23. Walked to the sea-side, and found a large cave singularly fitted for meditation; I prayed with some sense of the awful presence of God, for the assistance of the Spirit, in writing on Rev. xxii. 1 7.

AUG. 24. Walked out, and my mind was kept much from wandering. In the evening read Thomas a Kempis with much profit in my room.

AUG. 25. Walked out, and had at times my heart exalted to God, but my affections were only transient. After much exertion, I got an insight into the meaning of Rev. xxii. 17, and walked up and down with my soul very solemnly impressed, and my ideas flowing naturally.

AUG. 26. Rose early, and walked out, invited by the beauty of the morning. Many different pleasing thoughts crowded on my mind, as I viewed the sea and rocks — mount and bay, and thought of the person who lived near it; but for want of checking my natural spirits, and fixing on one subject of thought, I was not much benefit-led by my meditations.

AUG. 27. Walked to Marazion, with my heart more delivered from its idolatry, and enabled to look steadily and peacefully to God. Reading in the afternoon to Lydia alone, from Dr. Watts, there happened to be among other things a prayer on entire preference of God to the creature. Now, thought I, here am I in the presence of God and my idol. So I used the prayer for myself, and addressed it to God, who answered it, I think, for my love was kindled to God and divine things, and I felt cheerfully resigned to the will of God, to forego the earthly joy, which I had just been desiring with my whole heart. I continued conversing with her, generally with my heart in heaven, but every now and then resting on her. Parted with Lydia, perhaps for ever in this life. Walked to St. Hilary, determining in great tumult and inward pain to be the servant of God. My efforts were, through mercy, not in vain, to feel the vanity of this attachment to the creature. Read in Thomas a Kempis many chapters, directly to the purpose; the shortness of time, the awfulness of death, and its consequences, rather settled my mind to prayer. I devoted myself unreservedly to the ser vice of the Lord, to him, as to one who knew the great con flict within, and my firm resolve through his grace of being his, though it should be with much tribulation.

AUG. 28, Took leave of St. Hilary; walked on, dwelling at large on the excellence of Lydia. A few faint struggles to forget her, and delight in God, but they were ineffectual. Among the many motives to the subjection of self-will, I found the thought of the entire unworthiness of a soul escaped from hell to choose its own will before God’s, must bring my soul to a right frame. So that while I saw the necessity of resigning, for the service of God, all those joys, for the loss of which I could not perceive how anything in heaven or earth could be a compensation, I said amen!

AUG. 29. My mind taken up with Lydia. But once rea soning in this way, If God made me, and wills my happiness, as I do not doubt, then he is providing for my good by separating me from her; this reasoning convinced my mind. I felt very solemnly and sweetly the excellence of serving God faithfully, of following Christ and his apostles, and meditated with great joy on the approach of the end of the world. Yet still I enjoyed, every now and then, the thought of walking hereafter with her, in the realms of glory, conversing on the things of God. My mind the rest of the evening was much depressed. I had no desire to live in this world; scarcely could I say, where I would be, or what I would do, now that my self-will was so strongly counteracted. Thus God waits patiently for my return from my backsliding, which I would do immediately. If he were to offer me the utmost of my wishes, I would say, not so, Lord! “Not my will, but thine be done.”

AUG. 30. Passed the morning rather idly, in reading lives of pious women. I felt an indescribable mixture of opposing emotions. At one time, about to ascend with delight to God, who had permitted me to aspire after the same glory, but oftener called down to earth, by my earthly good. After dinner walked in the garden for two hours, reasoning with my perverse heart, and through God’s mercy not without success. To preach up dead ness to the world, and yet not to live an example of it! Now is the time, my soul, if you cannot feel that it is best to bear the cross, to trust God for it. This will be true faith. If I were put in possession of my idol, I should immediately say and feel that

1804.] OF THE REV. HENRY MARTYN. Ill

God alone was, notwithstanding, the only good, and to Him I should seek immediately. Again I weighed the probable temporal consequence of having my own will gratified! the dreadful pain of separation by death, after being united, together with the distress I might bring upon her whom I loved. All these things were of small influence, till I read the Epistle to the Hebrews, by which my mind, made to consider divine things attentively, was much more freed from earthly things. I have found grace to help in this time of need; I still want a humble spirit to wait upon the Lord; I almost called God to witness, that I truly resigned my pleas ure to his, as if I wished it to be remembered. In the evening, had a serious and solemn time in prayer, chiefly for the influences of the Spirit, and rose with my thoughts fixed on eternity. I longed for death, and called on the glorious day to hasten, but it was in order to be free from the troubles of this world.

SEPT. 2. (Sunday.) Preached at Helston church, and greatly offended some ladies, who said they would not go again to hear such doctrine; accordingly, in the afternoon, the genteel part of the congregation was smaller, but the poor more numerous. Mr. Andrews, a Methodist, begged me to preach at their chapel, which I refused of course. I retired to my room, and found my heart much enlarged in solemn prayer, and views of eternity. Joined Mr. S., and pressed him closely on leaving off cards, plays, dances, and forsaking the company of the world. He seemed much convinced, and expressed great desire of a more serious devotion of himself to the service of God. Mr. 0., who had been a missionary in the West Indies for twelve years, called on me afterwards, and gave me much delightful information concerning the work.

SEPT. 3. Mr. S. called on me this morning, to let me know how much he was obliged to me for my conversation with him, and that he would not but have seen me on any account. The Lord teach him to save himself and them that hear him!

I was about to take my leave, when begged to speak a

few words, which brought me to ask him about balls, which I had heard he sometimes attended. He was convinced by the arguments I adduced, and confessed he had been acting wrongly through ignorance and fear of man, and determined to have nothing more to do with them. From these things I saw clearly the hand of Providence, conducting me to Helston, whither I never dreamt of going till just before. The papers relating to the Mission Church, I read through, and from them and Major Sandys’ accounts, felt very strong de sires to go forth and preach. Rode to Redruth after dinner, with my mind unsettled, through love of the world, or rather my idol.

SEPT. 5. Passed the evening with S, and took occasion to beseech her to give up herself wholly to God, without which she could not be safe.

SEPT. G. Retired for a while to my Bethel, and after writing a few pages, took my leave of it with solemn and affectionate prayer, that I might preach in the concourse of men in foreign lands those truths which I had received and meditated upon there, and that if I should be spared to revisit it, it might be with great increase of grace in my heart, and after an abundant harvest of souls. Much of the rest of the day, till evening, passed in exhorting and comforting my sister, and then took leave of her, with great distress to us both.

SEPT. 8. Continued our journey to Plymouth Dock, where we arrived at three o’clock; my mind in the morning was empty, for want of prayer, and so ill prepared to exercise a complacent devotedncss to God in all that he is about to do with me. SEPT. 1 1. Went to TCxeter. My thoughts were almost wholly occupied with Lydia, though not in a spirit of departure from God, for I considered myself as in his hands, and reposed with confidence and peace on his unerring wisdom. One of the passengers was a Unitarian, and with him, in a long walk we had before the coach, I had a conversation, till, having nothing to say in his defence, he declined the subject. Alas! it is the love of sin in all carnal men that is at the bottom. Filled with awful thoughts of God’s power and sovereignty, and felt the dreadful impiety of being dissatisfied with his will.

LONDON, SEPT. 14. Went to St. Paul’s, to see Sir W. Jones’s monument: the sight of the interior of the dome filled my soul with inexpressible ideas of the grandeur of God, and the glory of heaven, much the same as I had at the sight of a painted vaulted roof in the British Museum. I could scarcely believe that I might be in the immediate enjoyment of such glory in another hour. In the evening the sound of sacred music, with the sight of a rural landscape, imparted some indescribable emotions after the glory of God, by diligence in his work. To preach the gospel for the sal vation of my poor fellow-creatures, that they might obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory, seemed a very sweet and precious employment. Lydiathen ao-ain seemed a small hindrance.

SEPT. 15. Left London for Cambridge. I took no pains to say anything for the good of the people, though I might certainly have done it.

SEPT. 16. (Sunday.) Set out for Stapleford with great desire that not a moment might pass without having my thoughts in actual exercise about something improving. Yet it was but a poor day, for want of reading, prayer, and watchfulness.

Rode home, and having little time for prayer, went to Trinity Church with my desires indeed after God, and deadness to the world, but unfixed, unsettled on divine meditations. Preached on 2 Cor. v. 20, 21, with no comfort, be cause I appeared to offer to God what cost me nothing. May God apply the word, but not for my sake; I must truly say 1 am an unprofitable servant; but through mercy God does not forsake me, but is quickening me to greater devotedness and diligence. 0 may his grace enable me to fight manfully, and to labor while it is day, while I am in this world. My rest remaineth for the next.

SEPT. 17. Another unprofitable day. My heart was languid in God’s work, and wandering in pursuit of my earthly idol. Yet by meditating on Ephes. ii. 1C, my soul was more disposed to cleave to God, as the chief good.

1 stayed so long over a difficult Latin passage, that it was too late to see anybody more, so I went home and prayed with some earnestness, that I might redeem the time. I was particularly affected with this thought, “Are there so many people, old and young, dying all around me, and am I considering how I may enjoy myself in life?” The rest of the evening read, and looked out the parallel passages in the 3rd of Ephesians. O may the sins and negligences of this day be forgiven, and the next be passed with greater zeal, diligence and heavenly-mindedness.

SEPT. 18. My prayer of yesterday was heard, for this day has been better spent. Rose before six, and prayed in heaviness for God’s assistance in preparing for public ministrations. Learnt some Scripture by heart.

After dinner I had two hours in my room of prayer and meditation on latter part of Ephes. iii.; then went to a society, where I found considerable ease on a difficult subject, and thus the Lord rewards the least diligence: let it encourage me to greater exertions. Expounded to my bed-maker, at night, as usual, but all the day I have had an inward con flict between God and the world. My dear Lydia and my duty call me different ways, yet God hath not forsaken me, but strengthened me, though I determined to do his will, and if I could not find joy in him, not to seek it in anything else.

SEPT. 19. Having no society to attend this day, I was not so watchful over my heart; such is my corruption! hypocrisy even in my spiritual desires! Lost a great deal of time

by thinking on L G. These thoughts may be very

pleasing for the time, but they leave behind them tenfold pain. Attempted to write on Isaiah Iv. 1 — 3, but with little progress, my mind was so distracted.

After church called on - — , who, after professing for twenty-five years, had now in illness begun to fear, not with out reason, that she had never known the grace of God in truth. After many vain, evil, distrustful thoughts, my mind settled in prayer to God, and asked freely for all ministerial gifts and graces, and begged of him to fulfil all the good pleasure of his will respecting me, not to allow me to follow the dictates of my heart, for what I would not, that do I. It is therefore no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me.

SEPT. 20. In my walk I indulged in the pleasing retrospection of the mornings I had passed with Lydia, and at last ceased from them without repining, as I saw sufficient in God’s wisdom and love, to impart perfect satisfaction with all that he should order. I was for the rest of the time generally in peace, sometimes rejoicing. Visited, the conversation very trifling, but I abstained from that levity to which I was tending, because it would be inconsistent with the solemnity of the subject this evening. At church my soul was much affected with the views of eternity.

SEPT. 21. Pvose and prayed under the overwhelming influence of corruption. I felt an obstinate dislike to all the ser vice of God, and an unhappy discontent at his righteous will.

Yet I determined to persevere in striving to live independently of created comforts, small and great. At the hour of walking out, everything tended to recall gloom; yet I summoned up my spirits, and considered it as an exercise of faith. I once was beginning to console myself, that I should leave this dreary scene of college, which appears indeed a wilderness, after the company of my dear friends in Cornwall and Devonshire. But I checked the thought, as being full of earthliness, discontent, and folly. Afterwards read a little of Pearson, French translation of Soame Jenyns, and Thomasa-Kempis. Some of Fortescue’s poems set me into a pensive meditation on the happy mornings I had passed near Killa but afterwards it subsided into a more profitable one on the vanity of the world; “they marry, and are given in marriage,” and at the end of a few years, what are they more than myself! looking forward to the same dissolution, and expecting their real happiness in another life. “The fashion of this world passeth away,” Amen. Let me do the will of God, while I am in it.

SEPT. 22. Wrote freely this morning, and in my walk out was tolerably peaceful; when my time is well employed, the things of this world have less power to charm. At chapel my soul ascended to God, and the sight of the picture at the altar, of John the Baptist preaching in the wilderness, animated me exceedingly to devotedness to the life of a missionary; passed most of the evening in reading the account of the missionaries in India.

SEPT. 23. (Sunday.) This morning I had power to check my thoughts from wandering over the earth, and looked up to Christ for entire devotedness to him. Prayed for all my dear brethren in the ministry, and particularly the person who had warned me of my not preaching Christ. I preached at Lolworth from 2 Cor. v. 20, 21; I thought with such clearness, that all must have understood; but a woman with whom I have conversed more than once, discovered by her conversation that she knew no more of Christ than if she had never heard of him. “Not by power, nor by might, but by my Spirit,” is often my refuge. I see that I can only sound the horns round the walls of Jericho; but oh, does not God withhold his Spirit from this benighted place, because I do not plead for them in earnest, nor bear them upon my heart often enough before Him? I must live much nearer to the Lord. I am satisfied with going on without anxiety for nearness to God, whereas, in the midst of my troubles, I find not a moment’s peace, save in his presence. Oh, how does it show the corruption of my heart, that severe afflictions are necessary to keep me from ruin! Read David Brainerd to-day and yesterday, and find, as usual, my spirit greatly benefited by it. I long to be like him; let me forget the world, and be swallowed up in a desire to glorify God. I am now alone with God. Awful thought! what is there in the creature to be compared to thee? Lord, remove the veil from my heart, that I may not be so powerfully driven away in contradiction to my reason. Let me cheerfully re pose in the wisdom of God; and think of nothing now, but how I may walk agreeably to my Father’s will. But what conflicts has caused in my mind! At night

prayed earnestly for an increase of grace for usefulness in the ministry, and felt a great desire to deny myself, and to be diligent for the cause of the gospel.

SEPT. 24. Rose with my mind heavenward, after some thoughts of God in the night, but in prayer was short and superficial.

Read and prayed with my bed-maker; read a good deal of Thomas-a-Kempis, and with the 19th Psalm closed the reading of the day. But no good has been done without. By reading a-Kempis, I am brought to ask, what keeps me from such close communion with God, but sin and sloth. Do

I not know I might enjoy the same deadness to the world, and spirituality of mind, were I resolutely to pursue the path of watchfulness, fasting, and prayer?

SEPT. 25. Rose rather in darkness, but was enlivened by prayer. Called on - — , and exhorted her, now she was raised to life again, to walk worthy of the gospel. As I went along the street, my heart rose above earthly things to God. I feel the utmost encouragement, and even desire to go and preach to the Hindoos. My talents seem to me to be peculiarly suited to them. Yet I have need to learn much subjugation of spirit, to be willing to wait on these poor people, and to abide the Lord’s time for their conversion.

SETT. 26. Rose before six, and walked to Shelford, with my mind in tolerable peace, committing Scripture to memory; I found it continually necessary to pray for the good of men, and particularly the persons I am this day to meet. As I arrived early, I employed myself immediately, that no time might be lost; for the redemption of time is absolutely necessary to my tranquillity.

SEPT. 27. Walked to Shelford; somewhat milled at a trifle, and my mind getting further and further from God. But though my spirit at the time was so hateful, I returned to him in defiance of my corruption, and prayed for deliverance, which I received. I was enabled to be tolerably watchful, so as not to lose sight of the eternal world. During the interval between supper and bed-time, was looking over the Bengalee grammar.

SEPT. 28. Walked out just before dinner, with the melancholy retrospect of a morning all lost through wandering thoughts. But I was taught by former experience, not to depart from God, but to come nearer to him, which he mercifully permitted me to do; I calmly considered how loudly and earnestly all things around me are calling me to redeem the time. Almost despaired of ever writing or speaking with deep seriousness. Yet by looking up to God, I some what composed my mind into a solemn frame. At prayer, after dinner, my soul was seriously affected, and I went to my work of visiting Wall’s Lane, with a heart strengthened against my vanities; returned and finished the Bengalee grammar, which I had begun yesterday, and construed a little. I am anxious to get Carey’s Bengalee New Testament. After tea, reading a version of Psalm cxxxix. I felt the presence of God as very near to me, and addressed him with the deep impression on my soul. 0 that I could live in such a frame! let me set the Lord always before me. What is religion without the reality of divine communion? and how shall I be easy on my death-bed, without being more clearly satisfied of my having partaken of it, than I am at present? God seems near to me, but speaks not; but it is because I do not ask him to speak; I content myself with telling him my wants, but can bear to be unanswered, and to be without the joy of the Holy Ghost.

SEPT. 29. Watched over my thoughts more steadily this day, and found the benefit, as I delighted more in God.

SEPT. 30. My mind this morning was in a frame of easily ascending to God in peaceful solemnity; but by the merest carelessness and self-confidence, I let my thoughts run upon the world, and the flesh, till my conscience was wounded. At intervals I recovered, and reposed on the wisdom of God, and sometimes through the evening, I longed to be alone in my room, to have my heart opened in prayer.

OCT. 1. The pride of my heart was made manifest to me this morning in prayer, but it was a time of spiritual strengthening to me. Read at the hospital, and called on, &c. My own heart was not the better for these ministrations, but rather puffed up with pride and arrogance. But in prayer I found myself restored to a right frame.