The Sixth Sacrament. September 6, 1730

I HAVE been very careless in recording, and much more careless in conducting the actions of the last month. I have done little for God; I have enjoyed little of him; I have sinned frequently against him; and have, on the whole, gone on much as I did before, only rather with less remorse, when I have fallen into some shameful instances of self-indulgence. I have now the Lord’s supper again in view. O that I might be brought thither with a broken heart, and offer the sacrifice of a contrite spirit for my many and deeply aggravated sins! I have been lately reading of the “life of faith.” I want more of that blessed principle, and then it would excite repentance. O blessed Spirit! graciously descend on my polluted heart. Strike the flint, O thou almighty arm of the Lord, that the waters of life may flow forth.

I come to humble myself before God; I come, to renew my resolutions against sin; I come, to refer my concerns to him; I come, to seal my engagements to. be the Lord’s, and to prosecute with greater vigour the duties of a pastor, of a tutor, a student, and a friend. Lord, do thou instruct me in them: Lord, do thou animate me to them.

O thou Searcher of hearts, I appeal to thee. Have I a wish so predominant in my soul as this; that I may be thy faithful servant? Would I not ten thousand times rather be free from the corruptions of my own heart than from all the calamities of this mortal life? Would I not rather live in the warmest exercise of holy love, in the most vigorous prosecution of thy service — than to live in a round of sensual indulgences, or in the pursuit of the most curious speculative amusements, although I were sure that I should be ever so successful in them now, and not be brought to any reckoning for them at last?

My God! when thou renewest the least taste of thy love — when I find, though but for a few hasty, interrupted moments, the pleasure of conversing with thee, I say, “It is good for me to be here.” Here, O Lord, would I pitch my tabernacle; and rather dwell in the meanest cottage with thee, than in the most stately palace without thy favour. May I not hope that thou hast not yet forsaken me. O, return to me in love; — visit me this day at thy house, and at thy table, and, for thy name’s sake, continue to lead me, and to guide me. Rescue me when I am beginning to wander; awaken me when I slumber; strengthen me when I faint; and let not all my prayers, my sermons, my private exhortations, my secret and public transactions with thee, issue at last in my aggravated ruin. Let me, if it be thy will, be separated from all that is dearest to me here; but, O my dear, my compassionate and forgiving Father, let me never, never be separated from thee. — Amen.